#So we don't know to what extent he has lost his memories.

[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!

[taddymason]

the fact that in your fic, jay before loosing his memories was fighting craglings in the realm of madness and then ended up staying in the adminstration

which canonically also turned out to be in the realm of madness 👀

Fr I swear my reaction when Zane said that was "Sure, that makes a lot of sense" to then think about this drawing I did a few months ago

Long story short, the time Jay was hit in the head really hard twice and ended up electrocuting himself by accident.

[steadybear]

“ 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭 : 𝗺𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐚𝐧! 𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝗼𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝗼 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝗺𝐢𝐝 𝐜𝗼𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧

Content warnings : nsfw content ahead, 18+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, dragon anatomy..., breeding kink, unsafe sex (don't be silly, wrap up your willy), yandere themes, implied intent to baby trap, mlm, bl, gay sex, anal sex, idk if this counts as dubcon on either end??? (reader says no a lot but it's out of respect for dan heng rather than not wanting to????" ~7.5k words? (don't quote me, I'm guesstimating)

“ new contact noted! caller 𝚒𝚕 𝚍𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚗𝚐 has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

𝙳𝚊𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚐 had what he would call a one-sided crush on a particular resesrcher he conversed with on Herta’s Space Station for a little while

Others, however, would say he had an unhealthy attachment to one of the shining stars of the station, specifically one that specialized in areas of study related to geneology

"Please remember, this conversation isn't meant to make you feel uncomfortable in any way possible, I understand the questions we're moving onto may be..." Your fingers halted on your keyboard, mulling over your choice of words carefully. ..."uncomfortable to answer or inappropriate to ask." You finally pried your eyes away from your screen to make eye contact with the archivist. "So, please, please, feel free to decline to answer any questions, ask to take a break, or end the questions entirely."

How lovely; that you were so oblivious, Dan Heng noted in his mind. He'd been clearly eyeing you up over the table for the entire hour the two of you had discussed the history of the Vidyadhara. Yet, despite the glances you stole at him to make occasional eye contact while you took your notes, you had yet to notice anything amiss.

Not the abundance of information flowing past his lips, eager to please and more than willing to tell you anything and everything you wanted to hear from him; not the hopelessly lost look in his eyes, turquoise tracing each and every little different movement you made as you typed away; not even the clear and obvious rubbing of his thighs together; the clammy, shaky nature of his hands and each and every one of their careful movements; not even the obvious red hue that blotted his cheeks and flushed the tips of his pointy ears a bashful pink.

"Of course."

You nodded, a silent acknowledgement as you consulted a clipboard you'd pushed off to the side for the relevant questions you'd been meaning to ask. "You stated previously that the extent any Vidyadhara manifests more draconic features is reliant on their previous lives, is there any distinctions between those who outwardly display these traits?"

"Yes, no new Vidyadharas can be born, only through rebirth do any vidyadhara children come to be." He bit his lip, letting his thoughts ruminate, "Because of this, those who hold certain titles and authorities maintain this authority in all of their lives once they've regained memories of their past. While there are distinctions between Vidyadharas, it's not so much based on how we present but how we present is related to how strong our affinity is to certain rites and abilities related to our predecessors."

He tried to wipe his clammy hands off on his pants, but felt no relief at all. There was some kind of anxiety brewing inside of him and he couldn't pin what was causing it. It didn't help that you were moving onto the biology section of your questions, intimate knowledge of his body that nobody else knew. It brought him some comfort that your own cheeks were tinted a light pink out of general embarrassment.

He felt himself settle down more, but he also knew these would be the easy questions. It wasn't as though things would get more simple, to come up with complex questions, you'd need to know the basics.

Aeons, the things he would do just to steal your attention for just a few, fleeting moments.

Dan Heng's stomach dropped.

It shouldn't have showed up for at least another month, he realized. There hadn't been any sign of his heat rearing its ugly head in the slightest as of late.

He would know, he consistently tracked any and all symptoms for cases like this. He dreaded the idea of being stuck on a trailblazing mission and suddenly going into heat, but this was arguably a million times worse.

Dan Heng's idea of the most attractive man in the cosmos, sitting across from him with only a small coffee table separating them. He'd let out his horns and tails so you could sketch them down on a spare sheet of paper and you were far too close for his self-restraint's comfort. He carefully licked over his teeth in his mouth, hoping to find some kind of way to slip away from the conversation in due time. However, all hopes of this were dashed when you sheepishly made a small request of him.

"Do you think I could get a look at your fangs?"

He felt his entire body light aflame with red, hot desire tucked beneath a careful casing of embarrassment entwined with dread.

Upon noticing his apprehension, you were careful to notify him that he didn't need to do anything for you in the slightest. "I understand if that's uncomfortable, I would never want to force you to do anything that would cross any boundaries of yours. You can say-"

"Sure."

You blinked at him owlishly, snapping your jaw shut quietly. Doing your best to not miss a beat or make Dan Heng uncomfortable, you tried (and failed) to regain your composure and reinstate your more professional demeanor. Much to your chagrin, your pink cheeks and stammering gave you away. "Oh, I, uh, Alright-" you cleared your throat, gazing down at your clipboard nervously, "Whenever you're ready."

He opened his mouth slowly, allowing his fangs to be put on full display. His breath hitched in his mouth when you stood up from the couch across from him to sitting on the couch next to him. He could feel his heartbeat picking up and more heat pooling between his thighs when you started scooting in closer.

He squirmed under your watchful eyes, pitifully aroused and unbearably hot, but unable to do anything about it. You made quick work of sketching the basics of his dental layout, noting sharper fangs but also his forked tongue. You made a quiet observation, but you were hesitant to ask for further clarification.

"I- Nevermind."

Dan Heng did his best to keep his voice and breathing steady, but he couldn't help the tremble in his voice when he asked "What is it?"

You shook your head, "Your dental structure and the curvature of your fangs is similar to that of a few snake species I've had the ability to work with." You hesitated again to continue. But the sharp turquoise eyes on you made you feel an obligation to explain yourself, "I wanted to see if you, well, if you might have a Jacobson's organ but-" you cut yourself off again. You bit the inside of your cheek, squeezing out the last bit of your explanation quickly, "the location of the organ is in a bit of a compromising positions and it'd be so, so inappropriate of me to ask if I could see it-"

"I'm fine with that."

You froze, your face erupting in a flaming red as you stuttered over yourself, trying to explain the implications of looking at someone's Jacobson Organ. The little sadist in Dan Heng's heart was ecstatic to watch you get flustered, to watch you try to be as respectful as possible and keep that platonic wall firmly between the two of you.

He could feel it slowly starting to crack, continuing to shift in his seat as he waited for you to quiet down and actually get on with it. He murmured out a quiet affirmation that he truly was fine with it.

"I know what it means to look at it, I'm telling you I don't mind."

You averted eye contact for a moment before gulping down some spit and carefully setting your pen down on your clipboard, you hesitantly reached towards his face. You stopped about a foot away, inquiring meekly, "May I?"

He was quick to nod, a little too quick to be completely innocent. You didn't seem to pick up on it though, capturing his jaw between your pointer finger and thumb. He relished the skin on skin contact, drunk on the way your skin felt cool and welcoming on his own burning temperature.

You tilted his head up to get a look at the roof of his mouth, spotting the small mass behind the top front row of his teeth. You did your best to make quick observations so you didn't need to embarrass dan heng anymore than he most likely already was.

He, on the other hand, didn't want the moment to end. You were so close to him, your face just barely a foot away from his, looking at an intimate part of his anatomy. His eyes were half-lidded, sweat accumulating on his forehead rapidly. He didn't know why he didn't check out of the questionnaire the moment he knew his heat was coming on, but somewhere in the haze of his brain there was a small inkling as to why.

The longer your hand lingered on his chin, he could feel your pheromones start to waft up his nose and it was getting hard to see straight. The Jacobson's Organ itself was an organ meant to signal and interpret both signs of aggressive from others of your species, but also to signal a willingness to mate. Dan Heng's was sending electric signals pulsing through his cranium every second you peered at it from his jaw.

When your hand tried to retract from his jaw, he grabbed your wrist and pressed it onto his cheek.

It was only then you realized just how quickly his skin was rising in temperature.

He writhed on your mattress, your smell wafting addictively through the air as he did his best to peel his clothes off. He wasn't having much success, the sweat having just about fused it with his skin. You had rushed off earlier somewhere with a few words he couldn't hear over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

He only managed to yank off his large overcoat and kick off his shoes and socks when you returned to the room. He was fumbling with various buttons and zippers on his top when you burst through your bedroom door with just about as many pillows and blankets as you could find in the short time you were gone.

You were fumbling over your words apologizing for not realizing sooner, saying you assumed Vidyadhara didn't have heat periods because they reproduced asexually. Your voice was in one ear and out the other as his fingers weakly and clumsily tried to pull his shirt over his head, but he noted that your arms were loaded to the brim with plush, soft, luxury pillows and blankets.

Nesting materials.

He was growing more and more desperate to get his clothes off of him as you dropped the pillows and blankets on the bed, apologizing over and over with a red face. He gave a needy huff when his fingers dropped the clasp of his shirt again. He couldn't get it off of him and he could feel frustrated tears settling in.

That was, until you started helping him out of his clothes.

You noticed his struggles and tentatively asked him if he needed help in this honey sweet voice, always stopping between each and every article of clothing you tenderly stripped off of him to make sure he was sure he was okay with you helping him out.

Soon enough he was left in nothing but his boxers as you excused yourself to start building up his nest for his comfort. You promised him you'd contact Caelus or someone else from the express to pick him up or at the very least explain the situation. He didn't answer, just about writhing in the middle of the bed, mind going fuzzy with the overwhelming feeling of you surrounding him.

He felt comfortable as he watched the plush walls being built around him, clutching on your blanket in particular as he could feel his hips begin rutting pathetically against the mattress. He buried his face in the soft fabric to try and hide his shame, all while huffing in your scent like cocaine.

Too many sensations, to many sounds, to many smells, his body concluded; throwing him into a haze of seeking blind release on your blanket. He hadn't even noticed you calling for his attention from next to your nightstand, setting down a pager and some water.

"-an Heng! Dan Heng!"

He finally snapped his eyes up to gaze at you, a little bit of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth and his eyes glassy.

You gulped down some saliva to wet your dry throat before continuing, "I'm leaving, but there's a pager on the nightstand if you need anything."

There was some kind of deep noise that escaped from his throat, at the thought of you leaving. "Where are you going?"

You raised a hand, trying your best to dissuade his worries. "I'm at fault for this mess, I can just crash in Arlan's room or find a temporary one. I can't possibly ask you to move during your heat period."

He dragged himself closer to the edge of the bed, closer to you, as he tried his best to stop his hips from rutting against the wall of pillows and blankets you hastily built up for him. "You can st-stay." There was rumbling in his throat, one you realized was purring. He was trying to entice you into bed with him.

Your face pulsed a deep crimson as you vehemently shook your head, "You aren't in your right mind, I would never even think of taking advan-"

He whined, grabbing blindly for your arms as his hips started to move against the wall of pillows. "Need- Need something, someone, need you-" he cut himself off with a curse as he felt a growing knot of arousal build up more in his stomach.

At this point he was pulling on your arms, trying to pull you in closer, down into the nest. His torso lunging forward to press his face into the skin of your neck, he was just about whimpering directly into your ear while humping the bed.

"D-Dan Heng, you're in heat, I couldn't do something like that to you-" you stammered, trying to draw away from him. His insistent groveling was starting to get to you.

He tried pulling you down into the nest again, hands reaching up to your shoulders to push off the pristine white coat you usually wore. His little whimpers were growing desperate, practically begging for you to take care of him.

Your hands gripped his wrists, sending another spark of arousal up his spine, he couldn't even hear your next words, "This isn't right, you probably wouldn't be talking to me like this if you weren't in heat."

His thighs shook under him, looking at you with half-lidded eyes as you put your coat back on your shoulders so you could leave. "Wait-Wait, please don't go- ah~"

"If you need anything, I left a pager on the nightstand. When your heat is over we can talk-"

He whined his protests, but you adamantly let go of his wrists and he could feel himself getting more and more desperate to keep you in his nest as your delicious scent wafted away from him. "I think of you so, so muchhhsh, it's not just the heat." He mewled when he brought your blanket to his nose.

He let out an unintentional purr when you stopped just short distance away from your door. You turned to look at him. He pushed his hips against the fabric of the blanket and the sheets, already soaking both his boxers and your precious blanket with the scent of sex. "Y-You never talk to me unless you need to know something- agh~" his hips stuttered against the mattress again. "Have you ever considered my feelings?" He let out another moan when he ground particularly hard into the bed.

"What are you talking about?"

He keened when he felt your attention on him again, really playing up the pathetic act he was putting on. "Twice a year- hah~" he practically melted against your bed when he found the right angle to move his hips at, picking up the pace quickly. "-you're all I can think about. Alone in my room while the others are gone and I'm making a mess of myself."

He let out another drawn out whimper when you stepped closer to the bed, "Y-You never even spared me more than a glance- hngh~" he grunted when your blanket slid against the mess he was making of your bed, "I wanted you soooo ba-had~"

He crawled over to the edge of his nest to where you were standing, doing his best to reach out to you and make some kind of contact with your skin. "I want you- mmmnnhg~ right now, I n-need you here-" he gave a whine when you interlaced your fingers with him, his hips growing faster against the wall of the nest. "I want y-your, ouhh~, want your heellpppp-"

You considered your options carefully. Dan Heng certainly wasn't bad looking, in fact, you could feel yourself getting a less than respectable boner at the sight of him basically bashing his hips against your blanket. You had his prior consent, knowledge of an... intimate attraction at the very least. Last but not least, you felt partially responsible for the state he was in, despite his heat cycle having nothing to do with you.

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek as Dan Heng put the hand intertwined with his own to his nose, sucking in the smell of your skin harshly. He was basically having the time of his life, eyes squeezed shut and his grunts and groans getting pitchier and pitchier with each passing moment.

You supposed you had to take responsibility for his little mess.

You let out a little groan of pain into his vent when he tugged harshly at your hair. He was just about jerking you further into his nether regions with one hand while he looped his fangs around one of his fingers on the other. His tail squeezed your upper bicep. You were laying on your stomach, going down on him with his legs thrown over you shoulders.

His little whimpers and whines weren't much to go off when it came to seeing what he liked most. Instead, you would go off the little things like the twitch of his thighs around your head or the way his hand tightened in your hair. There were actually a few things you figured out would get him to jerk his hips up into your mouth. Specifically, he really liked it when you managed to get your tongue inside his cloaca and tease the tips of his cocks.

You pulled your mouth off of his hips, relishing in his small protest. He keened, his hips chasing after your slick stained lips. You ignored his nonverbal begging for more, instead snuggly wrapping your biceps around his hips and squaring them back down on the pillow he was propped up on. You hadn't exactly done anything like this before, but that definitely didn't mean you weren't willing to learn.

Instead of going back in to continue teasing his slit, you focused your attention on what was slowly everting out of it. Your thumb traced over the slit of the dick that had just barely begun poking its head out his vent. You earned a muffled groan from Dan Heng, who was doing his best to muffle his noises on his finger. For his own dignity, you let him.

You tentatively licked over the tip just to gauge his sensitivity and were kindly rewarded with more of his cock sliding out and the second one just barely sliding emerging as well. The precum oozing off the tips tasted just like his slick, mouth numbingly sweet. It wasn't any kind of flavored sweet, actually it was almost like drinking a mouthful of sugar water; something you mentally took note of.

His fingers were just about digging into your scalp now, pushing your face down closer to him. He was trying to wiggle his hips up closer to your mouth, but your arms kept him firmly pressed down as you continued to mercilessly tease him. He sucked in a sharp breath when you finally took one in your mouth, going down slowly until your nose was flush with his pubic bone. You traced over the underside with an experimental flick of the tongue.

In turn, his thighs twitched to clamp your head in place, delivering a delicious pressure that kept you locked in between his legs. You felt the heel of his foot push into your back right between your shoulder blades. He tugged on your hair again, letting out a pathetic hiccup when you maneuvered your hand underneath his little leg lock to tease the opening of his vent.

He shivered deliciously when you groaned against him again, finally prying his thighs away from the sides of your head. You traced the outline of his cloaca slowly, sensually; causing his other hand to join in on tugging your head closer to his dripping sex. You rose off of his erection with plenty of spit and precum dangling from your lips, glinting in the low light.

His fingers carded through your hair as you finally got up from between his legs, crawling on top of him and pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. Your breath was hot on his face and he could feel the sweat dripping on his brow as he locked his legs around your waist to pull you down on top of him.

One of your hands traced little patterns up the outside of his thigh and up to his little hip dips. You kept your voice low, trying not to overwhelm him since he was already trying to force his hips up higher to grind on your own erection. "As much as I'd love to keep going like we were, I want to hear what you want to do."

He seemed to lack the ability to answer, coherent thoughts transitioning to jumbled syllables and begging the moment they moved past his lips. He finally managed to raise his hips high enough to rut on the inside of your thigh, tears slowly welling up in his eyes. He was getting overwhelmed, your scent and your touch and the things you were making him feel drowned him in an ocean of white hot flames, boiling him alive with all the sensations sending a pleasant buzz through all of his nerves.

"Hm? Dan heng?" You cooed into his ear, he took in a sharp inhale, letting out a breathy huff in response. He kept rutting up against the inside of your thigh, his dicks standing at full attention and weeping precum all over your skin. Once again, he couldn't respond, letting out little huffs and groans into your neck while he tried to chase the feeling of completion.

You used the hand that was gently caressing his thigh to push his hips back down towards the bed. Chastising him gently for not answering you, "C'mon, I can't help you if you don't tell me how I can help, sweetheart."

He could feel the hot wet trails of tears running down his face as he started crying. He sniffled pathetically as his hips struggled against the strength of your arm keeping them pinned down by the waist. His hands moved from your hair to your shoulders, trying to use them to get more leverage to try and fight against your grip. "I- I-"

"Yes?" You purred, placing a kiss to the side of his neck. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, eyelids fluttering shut as he tried to put more effort towards thinking. "What do you want from me, Heng?"

He whimpered at the mention of his name, "I don't know- I don't know-" he hiccupped, his fingernails leaving crescent marks in your shoulders, "I want to feel good, I-" a sniffle, "-touch me, please touch me agaainn..."

"Good," your murmured against his skin, "Just a little bit more, you're being so good for me," you placed a few more kisses up his neck until you met his jawline, "Where do you want me to touch you? How do you want me to touch you?"

His tail squeezed around your thigh, shaking as tried to ground himself enough to answer. He pressed his foot further into your back to bring your body down closer. He whimpered, "-Inside" his fingers trailed up to your jawline, "I- I want it inside." He held your face in his hands to make eye contact with him.

In all his teary eyed glory, you still managed to find the willpower to hold back and tease him just a little more, "What do you want inside?" He whined, roughly bringing your forehead to touch his. You pressed an innocent peck to his lips, "Last question, Heng, What do you want inside?"

He keened, chasing after your lips, almost yelling against your mouth, "YOU! I want YOU insiiihiidddeee~"

You curse against his lips, "...ah fuck," you suck a sharp breath between your teeth. You dot kisses on his face, holding him in a soft missionary. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?" You were scared to hurt him, trying to help him relax a little bit.

Dan Heng, on the other hand, was barely cognizant, eyes squeezed shut as little tears poured down the sides of his face. Was it from the pain? No, rather it was from relief.

"good, good, so good-" he babbled, arms looped around your neck as he tried to push himself backwards and further up on the pillow propped under his pelvis.

You gently stroked his hair away from his face, thumbing away the tears on his cheek. You gently pushed another couple of inches into him, causing him to let out a shaky moan. You kissed him on his sweat-caked forehead, shushing him as he cried pathetically underneath you. "You're doing so good, such a good boy, almost there, promise."

"Ahnnn~" he squirmed under the praise, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth, "deeper, please," he sniffled, "-please, deeper,"

You nodded, starting to push just a little bit in further, stopping when his tail smacked unceremoniously against your back. His back arched up against the bed in an open mouthed scream, just about seeing stars when you brushed past his prostate. He kept drooling, hiccupping and whining for you to keep going.

You finally bottomed out, ultimately noticing just the smallest bump protruding on his mid-section. His hands were scratching lines down your back, his mouth pressed shut tight and his jaw tense. Tears continued to stream down the side of his face as muffled murmurs and whimpers bounced around the inside of his taut lips.

You latched onto the side of his neck, placing a delicate kiss before starting to suck a light hickey into his pale, pale skin. He shuddered under the simple touch, a broken, humiliating purr resonating from his throat.

He sniffled again, sobbing, "P-Please, just move, I can't wait- ouhhh~"

You unlatched from his neck, kissing the just barely red skin gently before drawing your hips away from his pelvis. He let out a long drawn out moan, his voice cracking in the middle of it. You pulled until your length was about halfway out, snapping your hips forward as gently as you could.

He let out a yelp, thighs twitching and clamping down on both sides of your waist. After a small pause, you repeated the same thing, earning another broken squeak. You set the pace slower just so you knew Dan Heng wouldn't be too overwhelmed. He laid there, largely limp for a short period of time, voice cracking and tears streaming down the sides of his face.

Eventually, when he seemed to get used to the feeling, his broken moans turned into purrs and huffy groans. His hips started to rock back against yours, hands balling up and relaxing into fists behind your neck. He reached for your face, a little bit less out of it and pulled you in for a sloppy kiss.

The first thing you were met with was his teeth clacking against yours before his long forked tongue ran over your bottom lip. You teasingly nipped at his lip, earning a purr as he parted his tips more the let you take control of the kiss.

It was around then that you got a more devious idea. You played nice to begin with, feeling around the inside of his mouth with your tongue, but eventually, when his whines started to get louder, you decided it'd be the right time to push him over the edge. Cheekily, you smiled into the kiss before pressing your tongue right on top of Dan Heng's Jacobson's organ.

You only had a split second to register that you'd actually done it before Dan Heng all but screamed into your mouth and the two of you were graced with white painting both of your chests.

You rocked your hips forward slowly working him through the intensity of it. You finally bottomed out again and stilled, pulling away from his lips.

To your surprise, however, Dan Heng's fingers moved from the back of your neck to tangling themselves in your hair. He was panting, teary eyes glassy and glazed as he pushed his chest closer to yours.

His lips parted, ghosting over your own lips as he begged, "Do that again, Ouh~ Please, please do that again, mhhhh~" His hips continued to rock back against yours but they weren't getting all that far; he was basically just grinding himself on the based of your cock.

You hesitated for a moment before tentatively locking lips with him again. At his insistence, you started to move again, but shallowly and slowly. He grunted into the kiss, tugging on your hair to show his disapproval. You huffed into the kiss before almost completely pulling out before shoving your hips forward harshly. He made a choked noise, just about having the wind knocked out of him at the sudden change.

You pulled away from the kiss, feeling a little mean as you rested your head in the crook of his neck. "Wow, I didn't know you could be so greedy, Heng. You already came once and you're begging me to go harder?"

"Please- hah~ please, I feel like I'm going crazy-"

You kissed the shell of his pointed ear, drinking in the little noise you got in response before humming and catching his lips again. Maintaining about the same pace as before, you started knocking the air of him continuously with each thrust. You started toying with the forked tongue in his mouth and slyly sliding your tongue over his fangs.

He let out a drawn out moan into the kiss, pushing his face against yours harder. He tried coaxing you further into his mouth, just about begging you to inject the bundle of nerves with just about the highest concentration of your pheromones he could get.

Still, you played hard to get, wrapping your tongue in his. In your focus on him, you didn't notice your pace was picking up as you got closer to your own orgasm. Eventually, when he gave a particularly harsh tug to your hair did you finally relent.

However, while you gave into tonguing over the roof on his mouth, you also wrapped a large hand around the two painfully red cocks bouncing against both of your stomachs. He squealed into your mouth, thighs trying to squeeze shut and protect himself from the onslaught of sensations. When he finally forgot his requests for you to put your tongue on the little bump on the roof of his mouth, did you let him have his way.

His eyes snapped open, pupils rolling up into his skull as you continued to stroke him and shove your tongue into the top of his mouth. He fell limp in your arms, fingers only staying attached to your hair because they'd just about knotted themselves in your locks.

You felt the pit in your own stomach starting to get tighter, eliciting a set of groans into Dan Heng. You sped up your pace, knocking Dan Heng out of his little stupor as his hands tugged about as hard on your hair as they could without pulling out any chunks. He was back to crying while you were just about fucking him open and drinking in the noises he was screaming out into your own mouth.

Finally, you let out a finally, deep, guttural moan as you bottomed out and finally spilled your seed inside of him. His back arched and his mouth fell open in a lewd moan, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he spurted all over your stomachs again.

"yesyesyesyesyesyes-umffff~"

You panted as you shoved his face into the pillow by the neck with one hand while the other carved bruises into his hips in the shape of your fingers. It'd been a couple hours later and Dan Heng was absolutely insatiable.

You supposed you should've expected it, seeing as he's in heat and all, but you didn't expect him to have nearly enough energy to keep going for the rest of the afternoon and into the early hours of the morning. Well, it was probably easier for him to keep going than you. After all, you were the one that was actually putting in the majority of effort to keep pile driving him into the sheets.

You grunted as you pressed your chest onto his back, watching the way his tail rattled in the air in contentment. Your hips were consistently slapping against his ass, his hands clutching at the pillow you'd shoved his face into mere seconds earlier.

His happy, fucked out noises were difficult to hear from the plush, comfortable pillows, but more audible now that you were closer to his face. You pressed a handful of kisses down his spine before reaching your hand around to his front. Originally, you were going to try and stroke him through another orgasm, but instead, the hand that was formerly on his neck ghosted over the bump you were creating in his stomach. He let out a noise into the pillow that was as delectable as sin. His entire body spasming when you applied pressure onto the same point.

After a couple of hours in, his cum had thinned to the point he was just shooting blanks at this point. His cock was an angry, crimson red from the amount of times it'd actually gotten off. Just like now, his entire body tensed, but nothing actually came out.

So instead, you pressed harder on the bulge, watching in delight how his body fell limp and he stopped rocking back to meet your rough, quick thrusts forward.

It was cute for the first couple of minutes, watching him weakly moan into the pillow and claw at the sheets underneath him to try and ground himself from the heaven you were currently sending him to. But as of now, your own hips were starting to get tired. Your thighs were burning after about three hours of copulation, but you also knew the moment you stopped, Dan Heng would be alert again, demanding your attention again. Sigh, so needy.

Taking matters into your own hands, quite literally actually, you traced up his stomach before curving it around to the side and resting it on his hips. You starting tugging his hips back onto your dick, listening to the sweet mewls he let out as he turned to press only one side of his face into the pillow.

Still not quite satisfied with the amount of friction generated from using his hips as handholds, you turned your attention to the rather large solution position just a few inches away on his spine.

A devious grin broke out on your face before you ghosting your hands over the base of it, taking special satisfaction from the way his eyes widened. The next moment, your hand was wrapped around his tail and his eyes were rolling back up into his skull, low moans turning into high pitched squeals as the end of his tail rather weakly whacked against your shoulder.

Once again, you were just so close to getting to your own peak, you meanly wrapped your other hand just above the other one, sending him jolting forward towards the headboard. He finally picked his front half up from the bed sheet and clutched the top of the headboard, resting his head on it as his nails dug into the wood. You were a little concerned when you heard it start to splinter, but you dismissed it for when your thoughts were cloudy with making sure Dan Heng definitely wouldn't be able to think about anyone else during any of his following heats.

Finally, the moment came when the pooling heat in your stomach exploded and unleashed another load inside of him, prompting him to scream as just the tiniest few drops of crystalline cum shot from his angry red tip.

Once again, when you stilled to try and catch your breath to see if Dan Heng was finally satisfied, the way he looked back at you, despite the drool dripping down his chin and dried tear tracks on his cheeks, was pleading with you to keep going. He punctuated it with pushing his hips back against your softening cock again.

Horny little bastard.

During the last few rounds, Dan Heng had started becoming rather verbal. Not to be confused with vocal, he was vocal since foreplay started. No, he started talking a lot the more and more energy you were losing.

At this point, you were much too worn out to wonder why. A few flitting thoughts trailed through your head, but were quickly knocked out of you the more you snapped your hips forward and the sweet sound of Dan Heng's hoarse cries replaced them.

"Sooo fullllll~" he mewled, riding slowly. The height he was rising was getting less and less as his pace was getting slower. His voice was slowly starting to slur the longer he was on top. He held an inflated stomach with one hand, using the other shaky arm to support himself on your chest.

Soon enough though, his arm gave out on him and let himself rest his head on your chest, hips still insisting on moving, though he was barely rising. "Ghonna get pregnaannnttt~" he purred into your ear. You lazily hummed an affirmation in his ear. Eyes half-lidded in exhaustion as you watched him use the last bit of energy he had to try and reach one more orgasm.

"Ghonna have your babyyy~" he cooed, his hips finally resting on your pelvis. He moved his pelvis in little circles, what little energy he had left diminishing exponentially the longer he went on. He whined out your name when your eyes shut.

"I'm listening, Dan Heng," you affirmed, sleeping hand coming to rest on the small of his back while the other cupped his cheek.

"You have to stay with me if I have your baby~" he complained, "you can't ever leave me."

You raised an eyebrow at his words, but chalked it up to a horny dragon that was giving into his mating instincts. "Yes, Heng. I won't leave you or the baby."

There was a weak purr that emitted from his throat, his hips finally stilling flush with your own. "Would jyou make me yohur wifeee..."

You hummed into his skin, "Mhm..." you rubbed a thumb across his cheek, letting him settle into his cute little domestic dream. "My pretty wife and our baby."

You could feel a smile stretch across his face against the skin on your chest. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair. His hands pressed up against your abdomen, resting there as you felt him burrow his nose right in between your pectorals. "Prhomishe?"

You twirled a piece of his hair around your finger, mumbling out a half-awake, "Promise."

With that, you could feel his breathing relax and small snores emit from his mouth. Without moving all that much, your own arm lazily grabbed at a blanket, throwing it over the both of you before letting yourself also drift off into the land of dreams.

Before that though, there really was only one thing left on your mind...

How exactly were you supposed to survive the rest of his heat if this was going to be your everyday?

there a small note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" i fear this is the filthiest thing I've ever written and I will be doing it again soon. "

feel free to submit requests (if you're interested) either on the post I provided or in my inbox, either works and I'll most likely get around to it eventually

if you also just want to chat, that is a-okay too, i need people to preread my stuff so if you're interested hmu

oh yeah, if you're interested in a follow-up/sequel to this, also let me know either through inbox or by leaving a note or reblog. I appreicate any and all interactions, largely cause interactions motivate me to actually write things instead of leaving it in the recesses of my brain.

- love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19

[itsclydebitches]

Though I adore the dynamic myself, it struck me as odd a few months back that fans were taking a "Monster loved for the first time" approach to Astarion. Part of the allure of a vampire (for me anyway) is the act of transformation; the horror and tragedy of having lost who you were before—including all those everyday, human experiences. There were debates about precisely how old Astarion was when he died and at the same time fans were screaming over him having his first hug, his first real romance, this is the first time someone has helped him without ulterior motives, etc. and I'm going, "How is that possible?" This is an elf who lived a life before being turned, even if it was short compared to what his race would normally experience. Astarion had a family. He had a job! Yet the fandom (and to an extent the game as well) treats Astarion as more of a Phantom-esque character: deemed monstrous from birth and blindsided by the simplest acts of love because he was denied them from the get-go.

Of course, it's easy enough to read everything through the lens of slavery and torture. Sure, Astarion had all this at one point but it's been so long and his life as a vampire has been so unimaginably torturous that it's eclipsed those earlier experiences. I get that... but time as the answer still didn't fully convince me.

Not until I started romancing him and hit this line:

"I... I don't know. I can't remember."

This is in response to asking Astarion what color his eyes were before they turned red. Can we just sit with that for a moment? He doesn't remember the color of his eyes. This line was a game changer for me because I can't even CONCEPTUALIZE that. Mirrors appear to be pretty common in Faerûn—it's not like this is a setting devoid of all modern inventions and Astarion, as a member of the upper class, absolutely would have had access to various ornate mirrors like the one he starts this scene with—so what does it take to make you completely forget such an ingrained bit of knowledge about yourself? 200 years as a dehumanized slave, obviously. Still, my mind continues to trip over the idea. I have blue eyes. That's a fact I've known since I had any real sense of self. If my eyes were to suddenly change tomorrow I can't imagine forgetting that they were originally blue. Even if I'd put it from my mind for an extended period of time I'd expect the very pointed question, "What color were they before?" would fire some old synapses and drag the information back. Obviously none of us have any idea what 200 years would do to a human brain (or, you know, an elf's) but it still feels firmly in the real of impossibility that I could ever completely forget something like that.

Yet Astarion has and this line more than anything else has sold me on his Baby Monster Loved For The First Time characterization, both in-game and in the fandom. He acts like he's never been hugged before? Of course he does! The guy can't remember his eye color and you think he's going to recall any probably-treated-as-casual-and-thus-didn't-solidify-as-significant-memories hugs while alive? When was the last time you were hugged? I'm not sure. I know I HAVE hugged recently but was the last one with family over Thanksgiving? Did I give my friend a brief side-hug before we parted? I'm lucky in that hugs are such a normalized part of my life that I don't give them much thought... which means that if you were to suddenly enslave me and keep me isolated for 200 years, yeah, I'd probably forget what they feel like too. Or that I ever had any at all.

(Self-hatred is going to play hell with memory too. Once you feel like you don't deserve something and it's continually denied to you it's easier to convince yourself you never had it to begin with.)

So yeah, Astarion acts like someone who was always the monster because he has, on a literal canonical level, forgotten what it was like to be anything else. Which just sets his relationship with Tav into such angsty, terrifying focus. Here's someone who has lost his previous identity. He (rightfully) despises the identity Cazador forced on him. Even if he didn't, Astarion is now miles away, the tattered remains of his self threatened by ceremorphosis. He stares into a mirror knowing he'll never see anything, but doing it anyway because he needs to figure out who he is—and that's precisely where most of us would start. What do I look like? What do others see when they see me? Is that the person I want to be?

Then Tav offers to be his mirror, just like they offered to sketch out the poem on his back. How exquisitely horrible for Astarion. He's being given precisely what he wants but he's in NO position to take it. All his sense of self placed in the hands of another? Asking, "Who am I?" and hearing, "I'll tell you. I'll be the keeper of that knowledge"? That's a far more intimate, potentially destructive power than anything else Astarion is looking to get his hands on AND he's trying to manipulate YOU at this point in the story! It just makes me crazy because Astarion is desperate to figure out who he is, but circumstances have ensured that, at this point in time, he needs to put his trust in someone else to begin answering that question... and the one thing he does know about himself is that he's a manipulative, mistrustful rogue who's only out to keep himself safe. Allowing someone else to take the reins with his identity (again) is probably the least safe thing he could possibly think of.

It's this messy tragic loop that yes, Astarion is working to break by the end of the game (depending on your choices) but in Act 1? Goddamn. No wonder he's trying desperately to maintain control of this relationship. No wonder—despite his best efforts—he's still undone by the simplest acts of kindness.

[albertasunrise]

Look for the Light - 5

Masterlist

Summary: Four years ago, Joel saved you from certain death. In return, you followed him faithfully. Always ready to do and give him whatever he asked, despite the hurt it inflicted on you, body and soul. Agreeing to go with him to deliver Ellie to the Fireflies… this would be the last time you’d follow him… After this, your debt would be paid.

Relationships: Reader x Joel Miller, Joel Miller & Ellie, Reader & Ellie

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose to give none. Read at your own risk. 18+ (So excited to share this with you. So much to come folks! 🙊😍)

Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You watched Joel from your seat beside the fire. The stone wall at your back does little to keep back the biting cold. You knew you must be close to where Tommy's last known location was and your mind started to wander as to what the plan was once you found him. Joel was so certain that his brother would lead them to the fireflies and yet believed that unlikely. The man had left them for a reason.

"You two ever going to speak again?" Ellie piped up, pulling your attention away from Joel.

"Ellie." You warned but the teenager scoffed.

"You two have barely spoken a word to each other since..." She trailed off, knowing the subject was still raw for you "You can't keep going on like this."

"I have his back when he needs it and he has mine... we don't need to speak to each other to achieve that."

"He's hurting too." Ellie pushed and you rolled your eyes at her "He is."

"Drop it, Ellie." You grumbled "Get some sleep. Early start ahead."

The teenager didn't push and you were glad of that. The two of you pulled out your blankets and settled down for the night, knowing Joel wouldn't allow either one of you to take the watch. Your eyes drifted to the man whose eyes scanned the darkened landscape, heart aching a little at the thought that he felt even a small semblance of pain to what had happened.

Little did you know, Joel was heartbroken. That day haunted his dreams and robbed him of his ability to sleep. Your tear-filled eyes and bloody hands were permanently seared into his memory, forever torturing him.

Joel fought to keep his tears at bay as he stripped away your soiled jeans. There was so much blood. He feared for your life if you lost much more. He knew that miscarriages could be dangerous when heavy bleeding was involved and this... this he felt fit those symptoms. Your skin was pale and your eyes looked sunken. Like you'd not slept in days and he supposed that to an extent, you probably hadn't.

"Is she losing the baby?" Ellie asked, her eyes wide as she watched the man throw the ruined garment away.

"Fetch me some water." He asked, knowing that the taps still worked in the abandoned motel.

"Joel-"

Just do as I ask Ellie." He snapped, voice wobbling a little as he looked at the teenager with an expression she found hard to read.

She didn't argue then. Rummaging through your pack, she grabbed one of the tins and ran to the bathroom, filling the vestibule with water before grabbing an old towel hanging beside the sink.

"Here." She said when she'd made her way back, handing the water and towel to Joel before sitting down on the bed beside you "You're okay." She said softly as she stroked the hair out of your face "Joel's gonna clean you up and then we'll move you to my bed so you can get some sleep."

"Ellie-" You choked but the girl just hushed you, cradling your head in her arms and pulling it to her chest.

Joel watched out of the corner of his eye whilst he worked to clean away the blood that painted your thighs. He was unable to stop his hands from shaking as he worked. His heart was breaking. Despite how he'd reacted when you'd told him the news, he had since come around to the idea that he was to have a baby with you.

He had started to picture what they would look like. He'd imagined another daughter. His curly brown hair and your eyes. He'd started to picture you, round with his child and how you'd glow. It was a picture that now had burned away. Disappearing in a puff of smoke. He knew you were never going to be the same after this.

And neither was he.

When he was done cleaning you up, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the room Ellie had slept in that night. He was glad you'd fallen asleep or you would have seen the bodies of Henry and Sam still laying there.

Once you were settled in the bed, he went to work burying the boys. Needing some time away from the devastation inside. Ellie had gone in search of some clothes that might fit you. Your jean were beyond saving. He knew that eventually, he'd need to speak to you about what had happened but he would wait until you were ready.

However long that was.

"Here." Said Joel as he handed you a mug, coffee steaming within.

You nodded your thanks then returned to starting at the landscape beyond, bringing the mug to your lips so you could blow on its contents. Joel lingered a moment, looking at you longingly, praying that you would spare him at least one glance but you didn't. You just sipped your twenty-year-old coffee and paid him no heed.

You had barely spoken to him at all since leaving the motel two weeks ago. He didn't push you to speak to him. Your interactions with Ellie had remained the same but with him, they had ceased completely. He was in agony. The longer you froze him out, the more his heart cracked. He was sure that if this went on much longer it would shatter completely and he would surely bleed out.

You noticed him walk away from the corner of your eye and you breathed a sigh of relief at his retreat. You weren't sure what he wanted from you. He got what he wanted. The baby was gone. Did he expect you to want to talk about it? Join him in his relief? All you wanted to do now was achieve your mission so you could be rid of him. The reminder of what you lost.

"You gonna be pissed at him forever?" Ellie asked as she plonked herself next to you.

"Maybe." You replied curtly, eyes remaining fixed ahead.

"It's not his fault you know." She stated and this grabbed your attention "You losing the baby isn't his fault."

"That's not-"

"You can't blame him for what happened." Ellie pushed and you sighed "You'll need to talk to him eventually."

"I know." You grumbled, scrapping a hand over your face before sipping at the coffee Joel had made you "I will. I just... I need some time."

"Understandable." Ellie replied, giving you a warm smile "Just don't leave it too long."

It was later that night when Ellie had fallen asleep that you had decided to break your silence. Joel was perched on a fallen tree trunk, gun in hand as he scanned the woodland that surrounded you. You sat yourself down at the other end, not wanting to be too close to him, and then you spoke.

"I can take the watch tonight." You piped up, taking Joel by surprise "You could do with some sleep."

"It's fine, you go ahead." Joel replied, shaking his head at you "Don't sleep much these days anyway."

"Joel, you can't keep going on like this." You argued and this grabbed his attention "You have to let us help you."

"You know, that's might rich of you to say." Joel grumbled, turning his body to face you "Seein' as you don't seem to want to speak to me anymore."

"Joel-"

"I know you're hurtin' and I understand but-"

"Understand?" You spat, eyes growing wide in disbelief "How could you possibly understand this?"

"I lost a child once before... remember?" He said, his voice lowered in an attempt to keep this conversation out of Ellie's ears "I understand how much you're hurtin' but you have to let me in."

"You didn't even want it." You growled, eyes cold as you stared back at him "I bet you're relieved!"

"I'm not." He growled, his face hardening at your accusation "But we both know that it was probably for the best." He continued "What sort of life could we have offered them?"

"I would have loved them." You sobbed "Nurtured them. I would have given all I had to give them a good life but that opportunity was taken away from me."

Joel stared at you with wide eyes. His heart ached to tell you that he was just as heartbroken as you. That he had hoped, after delivering Ellie to the fireflies, you and he would find somewhere to settle to raise your baby together. Instead, he watched you as you cried, hand resting on where your child had once rested and he found himself unable to say anything. You scoffed at his lack of response, cementing your belief that he was relieved you had lost the baby.

Watching you walk away, sobbing, his heart broke all over again. He had lost you once and for all.

You admired the river that carved its path through the landscape on your right. The landscape was something you'd read about in the books that had survived the apocalypse.

"Look at that river. It's crazy blue." Said Ellie as she too admired the wilderness surrounding you all "Hey, Joel... what if this is the River of Death?"

This made you a Joel pause. The words of that couple echoed in your brain as you share a look with the older man.

"What's past the river?" Ellie had asked and she had replied

"Death."

Horses whinnying, made you jump from your skin and you grabbed your gun as Joel pushed Ellie back.

"Get behind me." Joel ordered, studying their mounted foes and coming to the conclusion that fighting them wasn't an option "We ain't lookin' for any trouble. We're just passin' through."

"Drop the guns." One of them ordered and both complied, raising your hands above your head once you had "You... take five steps back."

"How 'bout we just talk this through?" Joel said calmly, desperate to placate the situation.

"How 'bout you shut the fսck up?" The man spat and you flinched at his tone, heart thumping wildly in your chest.

"Okay, easy. You'll be okay."

"You been near Infected?" The man demanded and you scoffed.

"There's no Infected out here." You piped up and the group all looked at you.

"The hell there ain't." The man replied before whistling, a dog barking then it trotted into view "Last chance for a bullet. If you've been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up.

The dog sniffed at Joel's legs before moving on to you. The animal grunted when it was satisfied that neither of you was infected.

"Like I said... we'll just move on." Joel said as he looked from the dog to the man that owned it.

"Now her." He said, motioning at Ellie and Joel felt his heart start to race. Low growling echoed in his ears and yet he found himself glued to the spot. Unable to do anything but wait for what came next.

"Hi. Hi." She giggled, the dog licking her face and Joel turned to see the girl grinning at him.

The man whistled, pulling the dog back to his side and Joel felt his heart slow again. His eyes returned to the leader of the group.

"You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What are you doin' out here?"

"I'm just lookin' for my brother. That's all, nothin' more." Joel replied, his expression almost pleading.

"Hо! What's your name?" Asked a woman, pulling down the fabric that covered her face.

"Joel."

"Get them on some horses."

"But-"

"Just do it." She ordered "They're coming with us."

You mounted the horse given to you, Ellie joining you on yours as Joel gets on his own. The three of you then followed the group for a short while. Not a word was shared between anyone until you reached a set of tall wooden gates, flanked on either side by a wall just as high.

The gates opened. Revealing a bustling town that looked like it had never been touched by the tragedy that had torn the world to shreds. It reminded you of where you'd grown up. Just on the border of Canada. The wooden buildings felt familiar to you and you felt safe for the first time in years. Children laughed around you. People sang Christmas carols as they gathered around a tree that stood proudly in the square.

"TOMMY!" Joel's shouting pulled your attention away from the town and you watched the man leap from his horse and sprint towards a man you recognised as Tommy.

He didn't appear to have aged since you'd seen him last, unlike Joel.

"What the fսck you doin' here?" He asked, pulling back from his embrace with his brother to look at him better.

"I came here to save you," Joel replied, the two brothers sharing a look before he pulled him into a hug again.

The sight stirred something you'd thought long dead.

Affection.

The three of you were then led to a canteen-like space where you were served a piping hot meal and the cleanest water you'd tasted in years. Then, after Joel scorned Ellie for her manners and you'd all learned that Tommy was now married to the woman who'd brought you to town. A woman who went by the name of Maria. She then proceeded to give you a tour of the town before Maria took Ellie to the house they'd allocated them and you and Joel went to the town bar to catch up.

You weren't sure why Tommy had insisted you come. You weren't family. You suspected he hoped it would soothe over the grilling he knew he was inevitably going to receive from Joel. You knew differently.

"Been a long time." Chuckled as he stroked the polished wooden bar.

"I've never been in a bar." You teased, surprised at how relaxed you now found yourself.

"Shut up." The brothers replied in unison, making you smirk at them.

"Doesn't seem like you aged much." Joel said as he returned his attention to his brother, watching as he poured you both a glass of amber liquid.

"You, on the other hand." Tommy said, winking at you before pushing the glasses towards you and Joel "Thanks for still givin' a shit about me." He toasted, smiling at Joel before sipping his drink.

Joel's mouth formed a pouty 'O' as he looked from the glass to his brother. A silent conversation passed between the two men.

"Workin' on raisin' some hogs, too. Once we get bacon, I mean, what's even left?"

"Pshoo." Joel laughed "Christmas trees and bacon? Pretty decent setup." Joel said as he stood and walked over to the fireplace across from the bar. Studying the pictures sat on the mantle.

"So, how's Tess?" Tommy asked as his gaze flitted between you and Joel.

"She's fine. All right." Joel replied, taking you by surprise so you opted to keep your mouth shut. The man knew what he was doing.

"Good then. And the kid?" Pushed and Joel once again answered before you had a chance to open your mouth.

"Oh, yeah. She’s the daughter of some Firefly muckety-muck... Try'na find her family somewhere out here. I was headin' in this direction, so..."

"Really? Goodness of your heart?" Tommy scoffed, his gaze drifting to you.

"There's a payment." You replied, watching as his eyes squinted at you. "So you know where they might be? These Fireflies?" You asked, taking a sip of your drink.

"Well, they got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado. It's, uh, a week's ride south. But it is severely fսckеd up between here and there. Infected... raiders." Tommy stated, his gaze returning to his brother "It’s not exactly an easy trip."

"It’ll be easy for us, seeing as how you can headshot Infected from half a mile away, which is a bunch of bullshit, by the way." You chuckled at Joel's statement, remembering how good a shot Tommy had been back in the day.

"Yeah, I can’t go."

"Oh, come on." You chuckled, sure that Tommy was having you both on. "I made it across the country."

"The two of us can make it from here to Colorado." Joel pushed, brows pulled together as he studied his brother's boy language closely. "What, ’cause your wife won’t let you?"

"They’re good people." Tommy argued "They didn’t have to take me in, but they did. And all they ask is that I follow their rules."

"I’m your brother." Joel growled, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Yeah, I’m aware." Tommy scoffed "They’re very protective of this place, and for good fuckin’ reason." The younger man continued, sipping his drink again "I mean, folks find out we’re up here…"

"No, we heard." Joel interrupted and Tommy sighed.

"Wrong people might show up."

"So is that what we are? Are we the wrong people?" He asked, motioning between you and him.

"Joel…"

"Those things I did, Tommy, those things that you judge me for, I did those things to keep us alive." Joel spat, edging closer to his sibling.

"We did those things." Tommy snarled "And they weren’t 'things.' We murdered people... And I don’t judge you for it." Tommy paused, letting out a sigh as he looked between you and Joel "We survived the only way we knew how. But there were other ways..." He trailed off "We just weren’t any good at ’em."

"If you knew the shit that we've been through... Tommy, tryin’ to find you these last few months…"

"I’m gonna be a father."

This news hit you like a freight train.

You saw Joel glance at you. Felt his eyes on you as you started down into your drink. Desperately trying to keep yourself together.

"Maria’s a few months along now." Tommy continued, smiling as he played with the glass in his hands "So I just gotta be more careful..." He paused, glancing at you and Joel "To be honest, I’m scared to death. But I don’t know. Uh… I feel like I’d be a good dad."

A pregnant pause hung over you all. Joel looked at you before returning his attention to his drink. Downing the last of it before speaking.

"Guess we’ll find out." He said as he poured himself a drink.

“I guess we’ll find out?" Tommy spat, angry at his brother's response "That’s all you got?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" The older man asked, looking at his brother who was now squared up to him.

"Just because life stopped for you… doesn’t mean it has to stop for me." Tommy snarled and you swear you could hear Joel's heart shatter.

With tearful eyes, he glanced at you before downing his drink and grabbing his coat.

"We’ll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin’."

You watched Joel leave. Tommy called after him before slamming his hand on the counter of the bar.

"We lost a baby." You said numbly, grabbing Tommy's attention.

"What?"

"Joel and I... We found out three months ago that I was pregnant." You replied, eyes locking with the man's as you continued "We lost it after escaping from Kansas City."

"Shit I'm-"

"I'm happy for you Tommy." You continued "But don't expect us to be jumping for joy."

You finished your drink and then grabbed your coat, wanting to be out of this place as soon as possible.

"I'm sorry you lost your baby." Tommy piped up, stopping you in your tracks "But life goes on. You can't live your life bitter because other people have what it is you want... It'll poison you."

You didn't reply. You simply left, your tears streaming by the time you stepped outside.

You managed to find the house Maria and Tommy had told you about. You'd decided to take a walk on your own for a few hours and before you'd realised, the sun had set and the town was now blanketed in the soft yellow light. Stepping inside you could hear talking coming from upstairs.

"I’m not her, you know?" Ellie said as you came to a stop outside her room "Maria told me about Sarah and…"

"Don’t." Joel warned, his voice low "Don’t say another word."

"I-I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel." Ellie pushed on, ignoring the man's warning "But I have lost people, too."

"You have no idea what loss is." Joel growled, his tone making you shiver.

"Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me." Ellie spat "Everybody, fucking except for you!" She yelled "So don’t tell me that I’d be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared."

"You’re right." Joel piped up after a short pause "You’re not my daughter and I sure as hell ain’t your dad..." He paused a moment, and you wondered where he was going with this. Your question was soon answered.

"Now, come dawn… we’re goin’ our separate ways." You felt your blood boil.

You didn't even flinch when he opened the door to see you standing on the other side. The two of you then just glared at each other before you stormed off, leaving a frustrated Joel in your wake.

The words his brother had spoken to him less than an hour earlier after he'd pleaded for the man to take Ellie still swirled around in his head.

"I know you lost another child Joel... and for that Brother I am sorry but you can't keep shutting her out. I know you're grieving... Don't bottle it up."

Making his way downstairs, he placed himself down on the couch and threw his head into his hands. Memories of Sarah flashed in his mind. Of him decorating the tree with her. Making Christmas cookies to hand from its branches. Not that many made it onto the tree.

His mind then drifted to you. How he could have shared that with you one day. How he still wanted to. He knew he had to make things right with you.

He just wasn't sure how.

Next

Taglist form

[lordofdestructionm]

An Unlikely Friendship betrayed

Mordecai being repressed as all hell and having feelings for the first time in his life for his straight best friend and not dealing with that very well is of course pure delicious angst

But even with an entirely platonic attitude to the tuxedo that doesn't necessarily mean Viktor is less hurt by what happened

Viktor is a man who has always wanted to feel useful and needed. As a farm hand, as a soldier, as a manual labourer, as a handyman for his neighborhood, and as a bootlegger.

But unable to return to the land of his birth, tossed aside by the US government after serving his purpose in the war, losing an eye when striking for fairer pay and conditions, abandoned by his wife who took his daughter with her, Viktor has had that sense of purpose snatched away from him too many times. He starts working for Atlas as much because it offers him a new one as much as any gratitude he had for getting him out of custody.

A BIG part of that new purpose became watching out for and guarding the back of a younger tuxedo cat, trying so hard to appear cold and capable to conceal the desperate lost man inside. For whatever reason, despite all his noise, nagging, criticism, prickliness,and their regular arguements, this unlikely partner he spends most of his time with somehow achieves that rare feat of being considered a friend by Viktor "Vinegar" Vasko

He makes sure he isn't taking needless risks, he goes out of his way to retrieve his eye wear from half way up destroyed stairs in a burning building,he tries to help him improve his weak social skills, he wears a tie he offers him for Christmas, and seemingly even agrees to wearing a matching suit at the 1926 New Years party despite hating formal wear

He has a practical purpose as a mechanic, gunman and the muscle of the Lackadaisy gang, while more personally his circle is not much bigger than Mordecai's.

A good hearted but senile neighbor in Mrs Bapka, a young bright eyed girl who fills the gap where his daughter was, and his eccentric partner and likely both best and only friend.

But then Atlas dies, and not long after one of those people puts a bullet in his one fully working knee. We don't know to what extent if any Mordecai explained himself beforehand, but we have to assume Viktor believes like most other people that is was pure spite and self interest as he left them for their biggest rivals.

Not knowing it was a desperate measure to protect him

Now neither of his legs work properly, he is relegated to tending the bar which he must feel is as bad as being benched completely, and following the pig farmers attack, in part due to the robbery of their weapons by that same ex-partner, he currently can't even do that

He is left sitting at home feeling broken and useless without a clear purpose to keep him going, to distract him from the many bad memories hanging over him

All because of the one person he thought, after so many years, wouldn't abandon him, needed him, would always have his back

Not stick a knife in it.

based on response to post by @felinelun

[polichinelle]

yeah fuck it i'm making this its own post. basically very long winded (but still not as extensively detailed as i'd like) thoughts on adam & ronan (sort of) & whelk & noah

i remember reading the raven boys back in 2014 (ten years of rot in my brain!) and being sooo disappointed that there was basically zero fandom interest in whelk & noah beyond "omg whelk is evil and awful and terrible, poor baby noah!" when that is not the narrative surrounding them, not really. i feel it's a disservice to both of their characters to do that, especially noah's:

there is nuance there. there are implications. like... it's ALL about the implications!!! we basically see nothing of whelk and noah beyond what's left after the carnage. and it's a theme in trc for characters to have irreparably changed before we ever meet them (gansey, ronan, whelk, noah). we don't know what they were actually like when noah was alive, when they were best friends. when they were tight as ticks.

what we do know is this: whelk was noah's gansey. whelk was cheating on his own girlfriend with noah's, which is a shitty thing to do for sure, but something we also have zero context for. we also don't know how true it is, because whelk has such a self-inflicted warped view of his past. he keeps rewriting his own memories to think lesser of noah, because his absence hurts that much! we know they were best friends, the same way adam & ronan are best friends with gansey. we know they did everything together

okay, changing gears a little.

i'll paste the part where adam is possessed, sorry for the amount of screenshots:

and this line from a bit further along the chapter:

then, from noah's possession scene:

compare this to whelk's recollection of killing noah, and the effects it had on him:

"red lines streaked in the corners of his vision" "in whelk's head, unearthly voices hissed and whispered, words blurred and stretched together" "dictated by something larger and more powerful than himself" "somehow invited into his body through czerny's death" yes i am going there, yes i am making that point. i think, to some extent, barrington was possessed when he murdered his best friend. neither noah nor adam get their own pov while possessed, so...

i mean, time is a circle. noah needed to die so that gansey would live. noah had already died, gansey had already lived. it needed to happen, and so it would.

where the difference lies, i think, is in barrington's reaction to being possessed, versus adam/noah. for all that i'm arguing possession, i don't think barry's a stand up guy, he's a kid who's never had good role models (need i pull out the quotes about his shit parents) and who was raised by money and objects and reputation, which is why i think the possession worked. the idea to kill noah might've seemed like his own in the moment, an escalation of the situation he was already in, but unlike adam/noah there was no one to hold him back (not to mention barrington isn't as familiar with magic things(?) as they are). in that moment, whelk did truly lost it. he did the unforgivable. but there is no universe in which he doesn't.

for every time we see noah reenacting his death, we also need to imagine barrington whelk, seventeen and shivering. realizing as he's committing the act that he can't go back. perhaps realizing too that he couldn't stop his hands from gripping onto that skateboard, no matter how much he wanted to after that first hit. ("But instead, he remembered the sound Czerny made the first time he hit him.")

there's also adam in this. both him as a parallel to barrington, and as a strange sort of part of noah in a way. adam and noah interact the least out of the main group, arguably, but they too are a two-headed creature; they started out as one singular character and you can sort of tell. something something hands and eyes, something something sacrifice. ronan sort of parallels noah, in that he is not the same lively person we hear about, and he never will be that person again. both are cabeswater personified (although in different ways).

some more things:

"he once had been tight as ticks with his roommate czerny" "only whelk and czerny, treasure hunters and troublemakers" "it was possible that czerny's death wasn't for nothing after all" "[...] his days a ribbon floating aimlessly in water" (in relation to: "he had been a swimmer himself, once") "czerny, you're in a better place than me, i think" "whelk, standing in the wreckage of his life, didn't laugh this time" "the dry, half-eaten burger on the passenger seat / the first fast-food burger he'd had in seven years" "these days, when whelk was trying to comfort himself, he told himself that czerny was a sheep, but sometimes he slipped and remembered him as loyal instead" "[...] took him back to that moment, the skateboard in his hands, the sad question gasped in czerny's dying sounds "we were friends like —"

also, whelk dying in the same place noah did. these lines:

both noah and barrington look the same in the end. broken, rumpled, forgotten. noah's family will never know his bones were reburied outside of their family plot. whelk's mother, however distant she is, will never be notified that her son has died. i think in a way barrington died at the exact same time noah did; something something invited into his body through czerny's death.

basically what i'm getting at is, noah and barry could've been ronan and adam i think, had the circumstances been different. they never will be, but i think about it sometimes.

and there's so many more things i'm not even gonna TRY going into, like noah and whelk both being parallels to gansey (the three of them kings in their own right), or the disparity between whelk talking about czerny vs adele talking about noah, or whatever the fuck is going on with whelk's backstory in general (what's the deal with his mother? how the hell did he get the aglionby job? a random headcanon of mine is that his and noah's search for the ley line lead them to fox way, seven years before the events of the book, and that's partly why whelk refuses to give out his name to maura, because barrington is hard to forget, and easy to trace back)

there is so much to talk about here and i'm so peeved no one is doing it properly... why are we still talking about declan bringing his weekly girlfriend over to monmouth for no reason when we could be talking about whatever the fuck kinda soul-fate-destiny bullshit noah and whelk have!

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2 of the losers bracket

Propaganda:

For John and Jack:

So, they both are literal murders. One of them is a little bit more insane than the other. Okay, the little bit part is not right, totally insane that is John, yes. But gonna love him though. He had been in rehab for alcohol, drugs, sex and murder. Don't kiss him, he might be wearing poisoning lipstick. They are canon mlm. They had been stuck in a two week time loop for five years, which was like leading a married life for them. They didn't actually marry, but they were partners, both in business and sexually. They worked together for an time agency. Then Jack's memories of two years were erased and he left. He went into  independent self deployment, doing scams using his knowledge of future events. After that he build an alien hunting institute in Cardiff, Wales. When John and Jack see eachother again after years, you don't know whether they will they kiss or fight. They do both. Did I tell you that along this story Jack became an inmortal who can't stay dead? No matter how or how often he dies or is killed, he keeps coming back to life. This is all very scraping on the surface, but oh boy, would it be at least a novella to describe them.

They worked together in the Time Agency where they did horrible things to the extent where Jack had two years of his memory stolen so that he couldn’t know what he’d done. They were also in a time loop together for five years where they canonically thought of each other as the wife (John was a good wife :3), and were basically married. Then they had a divorce arc and they both separately went rogue from the Agency to become conmen, although they still worked together/clashed on occasions, always still with that spark of passion. “Frenemies with benefits” Jack called them once, although John preferred “my lover, my rival, my nemesis and destiny. And bane of my bloody life.” Canon finds us where Jack has tried to reform and be a better person, but John is still chasing cons, and all he wants to do is bring Jack back to the stars with him, back to the crime and the glitter of the galaxies (it doesn’t work and he shoves Jack off a building but Jack got himself immortal so he’s fine <3) anyway I am very normal about them xoxo

In John's introduction to the series he shows up on a roof where some guy is mugging someone, grabs him by the throat and dangles him over the edge of the building while this guy begs for his life before dropping him just because he felt like it. When John and Jack interact for the first time in the show there's a super cool guitar riff, very evil western vibes, they walk up to each other, look deeply into each other's eyes, make out, then start throwing punches to Blur's Song 2. In one of the audio dramas we're told about various times where these two conned people, stole a bunch of money and gold and gems and stuff, then had sex with whoever it is they conned before (sometimes) killing them. When Jack devided he was done and left John to die John escaped and married the queen of England (Victoria) then locked Jack up somewhere to take his life force and live forever, destroying the timeline in the process. John has tried to kill all of Jack's friends at least twice to have him all to himself. He found Jack's long lost brother and when the brother turned out to be a terrible person with a vendetta against Jack John did everything he could to save Jack. Their relationship is canon but very one-sided most of the time

just this video

For the Doctor and the Master:

Immortal genderfluid war criminals <333

So we all know the Master has killed plenty of people, but, despite their reputation, the Doctor has killed a more than average number too. Sure they undid the whole destroying their own planet thing, but that's still something the Doctor did. Also there's apparently a novelization out there where, when they were children, the Doctor killed one of their childhood bullies but then made a deal with Death so that the Master had the memory of it and became Death's champion, which is pretty messed up and murder husbandish. There are plenty more war crimes on the Doctor's hands, and the Master has killed countless people in a variety of creative ways. Also, I'm having trouble finding the quote, but I swear the Master once said something to the lines of "trying to kill the Doctor is just my flirting" or something similar. But I do know Missy (also the Master but female at the time) described their relationship as "older than your civilization and infinitely more complex". They love each other, they're constantly trying to destroy each other, they are the only friends they each have who can even begin to understand everything they've been through; they've known each other since childhood and they've watched (and helped) civilizations rise and fall together. They may not be who you first think of for murder spouses but they really are a beautiful example.

[aishangotome]

Alfons Sylvatica: [Blind Love] Chapter 24

Chapter 23

♡———♡

If I were to disappear from here...

She would meet someone she could truly love and find happiness.

When her time finally came, she would be surrounded by family, cherishing the memories of her loved ones as she closed her eyes.

A warm, peaceful, and ordinary ending, unlike any play ever performed on stage.

(The thought of you forgetting me and meeting such an end...)

(It's the most...)

Alfons: ...fucking bullshit scenario.

Gore: ...What?

(No matter how much we loved each other, if I lost my life, in that instant...)

(Her happy days would become an illusion, plunging her into despair.)

Even knowing that, I want to leave my mark.

Deeper, irrevocably.

(With such a precarious happiness that could turn into despair...)

(I want to ruin your life.)

Before I knew it, I was unexpectedly wishing for that, strongly.

The desire to hurt you is far from kindness or compassion, but...

--For now, shall we call this love?

Alfons: Oh dear... Kate, what have you done?

Alfons: Leaving me with such a troublesome thing... You'll have to take responsibility, you know.

Alfons: Don't you think so?

Gore: ...I don't understand what you're saying. Have you lost your mind?

Alfons: No, I'm at least saner than you.

Reading the opponent's breathing, I draw my saber in the momentary lapse of consciousness during a blink.

Using dance steps taught by the Greetia family tutor, I circled behind him.

Gore: !.....

To the old gentleman's dismay, the cold blade was already at his throat.

The guards were too afraid to pull the trigger for fear of shooting their master, so they just pointed their muzzles pointlessly.

(Yes, yes, that's a good boy)

Gore finally seemed to realize he was the one on trial, with his fate hanging by a thread.

Gore: Wh-what do you want...? State your... demands...

Alfons: Ah ha! You know we're an assassination organization, don't you?

Alfons: If someone from an assassination organization comes all this way to see you, then their goal must be—your life, of course.

Gore: ...!?

(Drawing my saber is no longer a threat to incite an attack)

I apparently wish to continue acting out this stale tragedy a little longer, even though it doesn't matter when or where it ends.

-

Elbert: ...Al, good work.

Roger: Ah...you went all out again, huh?

Alfons: I got a little carried away and made a mess of the killing.

Five minutes later, Elbert and Roger opened the door to find several mangled bodies of what appeared to be guards.

In the center, an old man - Councilman Gore - was looking up at the sky in an unusual state of excitement, which Alfons was watching with amusement.

Roger: What about him? Why didn't you kill him?

Roger pointed his chin at Councilman Gore, who had completely lost his mind.

Alfons: Because it would be boring to just kill him and end it.

Alfons: I was given permission to "destroy the organization by any means necessary"...

Alfons: So I thought I'd let him go wild for the rest of his life.

Gore: The celestial god is real! We are all slaves!

Gore: That's why I had to offer a living sacrifice...yes, I have to tell everyone about my great achievement!

Councilman Gore ran out of the room with a crazed look on his face, ignoring Alfons and the others.

Roger: What the hell did you put in his head...?

Alfons: "The massacre in the East End was a ritual to offer a living sacrifice to the celestial god."

Alfons: "The fact that you led it is an honor that all mankind, who are slaves to God, should praise."

Alfons: "You must proclaim this fact to everyone attending this banquet!"

Alfons gestures theatrically as he relays the full extent of the illusion he showed Councilman Gore.

Roger: I see... You made the old man confess to the whole thing, while making his cronies think he's gone crazy.

Elbert: ...If they saw that, the young councilmen who followed him out of admiration would leave him.

Roger: The old man will be sent to prison or a mental hospital.

Roger: The members of the "Purification" club will want to continue their activities, but...

Roger: If they're seen as followers of the old man, it will hinder their activities as councilmen... They'll have no choice but to lie low.

Alfons: That's right.

Roger: But how do you come up with these tall tales so easily?

Alfons: It's my specialty.

Alfons places a hand on his chest and smiles deeply.

Roger: Well, I'm glad you're safe.

Alfons: I'm sorry for taking your job away from you.

Roger: Don't worry about it. I got some good information out of it too.

Alfons: What kind of information?

Roger: You think I'm a "competent doctor."

Alfons: ...It's just flattery, don't take it seriously.

Roger: Oh really? I thought so too, but judging by your reaction, you're being honest.

Alfons: I truly admire your optimistic way of thinking.

Their pointless conversation blossoms.

Then, a low, calm voice coughs softly.

Elbert: ...Al.

Alfons: Yes?

Elbert: Was there anything "lovely" inside of you...?

Alfons: .....

**flashback to earlier**

Alfons: That's why I want to test it.

Alfons: Whether love really exists within me.

Alfons: Whether it's something so wonderful that I would desperately cling to life for it.

**flashback over**

Alfons: ...No.

Alfons: But...there was something unbearably troublesome.

Elbert: ...I see.

I want to hurt it, to ruin it beyond repair.

It's not worthy of being called by the same name as what she gives, but...

---It was definitely there.

-

(Back to Kate's POV)

(I hope Alfons is safe... I hope he's not injured.)

Inside the carriage, I waited restlessly for Alfons' return.

(...Perhaps from now on, like this...)

(...Many nights may come when I wait for Alfons, my heart burning with worry.)

Even so...I want to believe he will come back.

As long as he resides in my mind – for as long as possible.

Just as I clasped my hands together in prayer...I heard the sound of multiple footsteps.

(...Could it be?)

With trembling fingertips, I peeked outside through the carriage window curtain.

(Ah–)

The moment I saw him, I opened the door and rushed out.

Kate: ...Welcome back! Are you hurt...?

Alfons: ..........

He, who was walking at the front, shook his wet, raven hair and blinked.

Kate: Ah, wait a minute. You don't have to answer. And don't try to dodge the question.

Kate: I'll check your entire body myself.

Kate: Take off your coat, please.

As I reached for his clothes, Alfons suddenly burst out laughing.

Alfons: ....hehehe

Kate: ...? What is it...?

Alfons: No...haha, excuse me...hehehe, ahaha!

Kate: Wh-What!? What's so funny...?

Alfons: Ha...well, I was looking forward to seeing what kind of seductive face you'd be waiting with.

Alfons: But you greeted me with such a wholesome face, and now you're trying to undress me without a shred of sexiness.

Alfons: ...It's a bit anticlimactic, or rather, funny.

Kate: Eh...seductive, you say–

**flashback**

Kate: I'll give you a special reward when you come back.

Alfons: ...Huh?

Kate: B-because... you said... you wanted me to reward you for making you wait...?

Alfons: ...I see, that's certainly something I can't help but come back for.

Alfons: I wonder what kind of seductive face you'll greet me with.

**flashback over**

Remembering what I had said before sending him off, my face flushed red.

Alfons: Ah, you remembered?

Alfons: Make sure you provide the special reward later, okay?

Kate: ! ?

His whisper in my ear filled my head with indecent thoughts.

Just a moment ago, I was worried sick about his life.

Elbert: Reward...?

Roger: Oh? Did you make such a promise, little lady?

Roger: You've been quite influenced by Al, haven't you?

Kate: Th-This isn't what you think it is–

Liam: What, what? What do you mean, influenced?

Ellis: Kate, your face is bright red. Are you okay?

Kate: Uh, well...

Overwhelmed by everyone's curious faces, I became flustered.

Alfons: Well, how should we answer this...right, Kate?

Kate: ...!

Yes, Alfons is that kind of person.

**flashback**

Harrison: Eh, what? Al, you already made a move?

Alfons: Hehe, How should I answer this...? What do you think, Kate?

**flashback over**

Ever since that night when he first showed me the illusion of being "lovers" and we slept together.

(He only says nonsensical things.)

(He plays with my sincere feelings as if they were a ball in his palm.)

(He doesn't give me even a glimpse of his true feelings.)

With just a few words, he messes with my head and fills it with thoughts of him.

But–.

You, the foolish person who resided within me,

Drove away my pain and sorrow,

Showed me pleasant dreams, and then tried to disappear.

That's why I love your "truth" so much–.

Kate: ...

I pulled Alfons' collar and pressed my lips against his.

Elbert and Roger: .....

Liam: Whoa.

Alfons: .........

Kate: ... I've been influenced by you enough to do something like this.

I want to leave my mark on Alfons, just like the scars he leaves on me.

It may be just a small scratch compared to the ones he carves into me.

Kate: Will you continue to influence me more from now on?

I glared at him with teary eyes, embarrassed, and he laughed as if amused.

Alfons: ...You're a fool.

Alfons: You'll regret it if it turns into a terrible color, you know.

--CHOICES--

I won't regret it even if it turns out to be a terrible color

No one knows what color it will turn into

Colors are more beautiful when mixed together

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

Kate: But no one knows what color it will turn into.

Kate: It might turn into a messy color.

Kate: Or it might turn into a very beautiful color, like a mosaic mural or stained glass.

Alfons: If it turns into such a color...I'd love to see it too.

I'll dig my claws into his heart over and over again, filling it with scratches.

He's not an illusion or a mirage–he's right here, right now.

-

–That's what I was thinking, but...

When I actually stood in front of his room's door, my heart felt like it was going to break.

(I said I'd give him a special reward, but I didn't think about what I'd actually do...!)

I can't look at Alfons standing next to me, so I end up staring at the door for no reason.

(To begin with, Alfons must have done a lot of amazing things in the past...)

(What if he's disappointed and thinks this is nothing special...? What should I do?)

Such thoughts swirl around in my head.

Alfons: ...ahaha

A laugh, as if he couldn't hold it in any longer, leaked from beside me, and my shoulders shook with a start.

I fearfully look to my side and see him looking at me as if I were something adorable.

Just like he's looking at a kitten tangled in yarn.

Alfons: At the tavern when you were drunk, you were so passionate, saying "I want to feel good."

Alfons: But today you're quite quiet, aren't you?

Kate: ...Ah... At that time, I was drunk...

Alfons: So it was just the alcohol talking?

Kate: Th-that's not true...

Kate: Even after you rejected me, my feelings for you wouldn't go away... There was nothing I could do.

The more I spoke, the more I felt like my limbs were getting tangled in yarn.

Alfons: But now it's not like that, so you can't be that bold, huh?

Alfons: It's a common story, isn't it? Once the obstacle is gone, the passion disappears.

Kate: Th-that's not true! I like you even more now than I did then...!

Alfons: Oh really?

His beautiful smiling face fills my vision.

Kate: Ah...!

By the time I realized I had been tricked into saying something embarrassing again, I was already trapped in his arms...

Alfons: Then, tell me about it... properly.

He opened the door with his hand behind his back and led me into the room, dancing while holding me close.

-

(Ah...)

His scent suddenly intensifies.

The moment I felt it, my body instantly heated up.

Alfons: You won't keep me waiting again tonight, will you?

.

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Blind Love: Chapter 24 Normal Story

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[sync24]

It was always the Doctor who would have to forget Clara. "Look how far I went for fear of losing you" describes not only the end of the universe, caused by the twelveclara timelordhuman hybrid, but the entirety of season 9.

In the preceding Christmas special, Clara lives a long and happy life. Though she still looks exactly the same to the Doctor, she is barely strong enough to pull on a Christmas cracker, both of them know they can't travel together like this. This is where the Doctor sees Clara's life without him in it for the first time, laid out. Of course, Clara and the Doctor had been lying to each other, pretending to have found their own piece of happiness and leaving each other to it — Gallifrey and Danny Pink alive and well, though even if that were true, the Doctor and Clara would not be able to find happiness and contentment in Gallifrey or with Danny Pink: they've tried before and it did not work. But, even though they're left to their own devices, the Doctor knows very well he could swoop back in to take her away at any second; it's a test of his will, not a permanent end, not if he doesn't want it to be.

A "Christmas miracle" allows him to find her again at the age she was when they lost track of each other, and he pleads with her (I'm begging you, please, don't even argue) to join him again, all of time and space is sitting outside in a blue box... I would argue that this is when Clara officially starts living on borrowed time, when her death becomes absolutely inevitable. Because there was an opportunity to let her live a full life away from the Doctor and he wouldn't let her, couldn't bear to, begged her not to, and perhaps most crucially: Clara would never choose a normal life, if presented with the choice, for the same reason the Doctor would never go back to Gallifrey and "live like a king" even if he could, even if things were peaceful and just. (Moffat: When I first wrote Clara, I thought, “Oh, this is fun. If the Doctor were a young woman living in contemporary Britain, it’d be a bit like her.”)

In season 9, nearly every two-parter episode puts Clara (and, to a lesser extent, the Doctor) in unprecedented danger. We see several demonstrations of what the Doctor might be capable of, should he actually lose Clara, but he manages to find a way, or Clara manages to find a way, Missy manages to find a way — like any member of team TARDIS always does, because they get themselves out of every shenanigan imaginable — until they don't. He doesn't care if he has to break the rules he has so carefully constructed for himself (I'm changing history to save Clara and The Doctor isn't here anymore: you are stuck here with me).

When the Doctor finds himself under the threat of death, Clara is there to demand him to find a solution, because he always does, this can't be the end, you owe me, die with the next person but you will not die with me. She finds a solution or demands he does, and they work it out. Because they always do, until they don't. Clara is a lot like the Doctor after all, and becomes more like him with every adventure they go on, but she does not have access to the same things the Doctor does: a TARDIS, a sonic, theoretical immortality. This is part of why the Doctor blames himself for what happens. (Clara, there's nothing special about me. I am nothing, but I'm less breakable than you. I should have taken care of you.) Had the Doctor succeeded in erasing Clara's memory as planned, he could look out for her, visit her, come back for her — and he would have. For the same reason he stole her away on Christmas day, taking her away from the love of her life (or so he believes) and a happy, fulfilled human lifetime (according to old!Clara). Even without his memories, of her, misshapen and riddled with holes, he is actively searching for her, despite knowing the dangers, remembering to some extent what happened and still, he searches. The only reason his memories get to return at the end with no consequences is because 1) he believes that she has returned to Gallifrey to face her death once again and 2) his regenerating body is about to force him to move on, to enter his next phase of life, become a new person, leave previous attachments to his previous iterations (literally and metaphorically). Look how far he went for fear of losing her. He had to be the one to forget.

[razzle-zazzle]

Would you be willing to like, info dump about your Troll pupating headcanon that appeared in your Between AU? Just elaborate on how it works and such?

YES. Putting this under a cut because it's moderately long

Okay okay so. I don't know why but trolls are like. Little bugs to me. So I want to give them a few small bug traits, make them little creatures.

And pupation seemed like the most fun way to do that. A pupa is an insect's life stage where they undergo metamorphosis between larval and adult forms. In real life, most pupation involves larval structures breaking down while adult structures like wings develop—in that case of caterpillars, the bug sees itself liquified during the process (while still retaining memories of pre-pupation! neat!).

Of course, in canon, we see baby and child trolls all the time, and they're not that different from the main characters. So troll pupation isn't as drastic as it is for most real-life insects in my headcanon; rather, it might be better described as spedrun puberty.

So. The headcanon itself. At about 12 or 13 years of age, a trolling will start to experience a surge in appetite and drop in metabolism. I'm not entirely decided yet on whether the cocoon is something that they build up over time from spun/shed hairs, or if it's something more instantaneous formed directly from their hair—though I'm leaning more towards the latter.

The troll spends most of their pupation asleep. Body structures don't need to break down to the extent seen in real-life insects, so while some semi-drastic changes do happen (genitals develop and become accessible, though they won't be fully functional for a few years yet; hair lengthens and becomes stronger + able to shift color and length; new adult teeth, fur, and claws grow in), the troll remains pretty much intact the entire way through the process.

When they emerge, the troll isn't actually a full adult yet; though most of the major changes have been ticked off, it still takes a few years of regular growth before they can be considered fully mature.

A big thing about pupations is that trolls are adaptable. And I headcanon Pop Trolls to be one of the most adaptable genres (since pop is literally defined as "whatever's popular," though the genre itself has a few defining features), though all trolls pupate regardless of genre. So trolls that are under a lot of stress or caught in unusual conditions may find themselves emerging from their pupations with new features outside of what's normally expected. These adaptations aren't super drastic—for example, a Pop Troll raised by Techno Trolls wouldn't emerge with the exact same structure as a Techno Troll; rather, they'd get webbed paws and bigger lung capacity (maybe bioluminescence if they're lucky) at the most. Lost limbs can occasionally be regrown during pupation if the injury was recent enough, and most scars will fade during pupation.

So why does Branch pupate at fifteen in my headcanons? Simple: he's gray. The lack of color is more than just a signifier of his disposition; it has direct physiological consequences with regards to Branch's growth rate and metabolism. His troll endocrine system released the necessary hormones to induce pupation late as a result. Hormones being what they are, it's possible for a fully-colored troll to have a delayed or even early pupation, but such deviation tends to be rare.

In the Between AU, Branch loses his tail at roughly thirteen years old. When he pupates about two years later, his body adapts to the whole "living with creatures twenty times his size" situation, and instead of regrowing his tail his hips and legs shifted to accommodate the new balance.

tl;dr my troll growth headcanons are a mix of mammalian (human) style puberty and buglike metamorphosis; trolls speedrun their puberty in a hair cocoon

[mymarifae]

HI I just happened to have stumbled upon your account and got very excited to see someone talking about the story for this HSR update because I’m still processing!! I know you’ve mainly been talking about Aventurine (understandably so), but I’d love to know your thoughts on the conversation between him and Acheron. Idk something about that scene really stuck to me through everything. I think it reveals so much about each of them as individuals and even their relationship? But yea how did you see it and what are your thoughts and

i loved it! like i said, i really, really, really enjoyed the way she shunned the nihility despite her position as an emanator. that was thematically perfect. she's a "raiden mei" who lost her "kiana" (and subsequently, her home, her planet, and everything she knew). she has been engulfed by despair, plagued by loss on an unimaginable scale. it would be so easy for her to drown in the nihility - to lose herself in the pointlessness and unfairness of it all... but she doesn't. she actively chooses to value life and individual choices. when aventurine starts talking about the nihility enveloping everyone and always being There, she tells him it's pointless. "it" not as in life, but as in the nihility itself.

and she's right! if it's always there, then what's the point in paying it any mind? that energy is better put into cherishing the time you do have to be alive. life matters because it always comes to an end. like, remember the xianzhou? yeah.

everything she had to say about endings and death is basically my own perspective on the matter. so that was really gratifying ^^ it's not a perspective i often see explored to the extent hsr did, because like i've said before... many stories are afraid to go prodding at the idea of death. many people are terrified of it. but like... why bother with that? it's there, it will happen to all of us, that's fine, i don't mind, i'm not going to despair over it. because the journey and the memories we make along the way are what matters

(good old red text blending in badly with this alternate color palette of hers... "And because of this, the 'end' will thus reveal a completely different meaning.")

she really was the perfect person to convey this. not just because of the subversion of the entire philosophy of nihilism - i think aventurine needed to hear it all. from her specifically. hard to keep arguing that life is pointless because it always ends in death when an emanator of nihility tells you that's not true. he hasn't valued his own life since... well . ever, it seems. even in his childhood he was ready to gamble it all away (the flashback where he risks his life to retrieve his sister's necklace)

his current gamble isn't over yet. he managed to stay one step ahead of sunday and provoked acheron into attacking him and getting him to this "other side" of the memory zone/dreamscape. but now he has to get out - and from what i understand, this is the part where all those official deaths on penacony's record happened. it wasn't them being "killed" in the dreamscape; it was their attempt to leave this "other side." if he can do it, i think he'll come out with a new appreciation for his life and a new sense of peace - and perhaps some freedom from the IPC, finally. the other stonehearts seem to think he's actually dead, right? here's his chance to slip free. which is the real reason why he went this far in the first place, btw :)

[stranger-rants]

I don't say this to invalidate Jonathan as an abuse survivor, nor do I encourage people to treat survival like a competition in any way. This is so that people understand the differences in what Jonathan and Billy were up against. Here's the abuse of children wheel for reference:

Note: This wheel isn't exhaustive. There could be abusive behavior that is unaccounted for. The Duluth Model is also not perfect, as it focuses primarily on the abuse of women and children by male abusers. Still, this model provides a good overview of what abusive behavior can look like.

Long Post Under Read More...

My memory isn't perfect, so feel free to correct me, especially when it comes to Lonnie Byers. I will also reference Runaway Max insomuch that it provides a possible look at Neil's behavior in the overall canon with an awareness that the novel itself isn't actually consistent with the TV timeline. While events may or may not be the same, the abuse that is portrayed in the book and Neil's characterization is consistent with what is implied or explicitly shown in the show.

We don't know a lot about Lonnie's time with Joyce, Jonathan, and Will. What we do know is that Lonnie was emotionally abusive towards both Jonathan and Will for being sensitive. He's not a good father, but in terms of long term power and control over Joyce, Jonathan, and Will, he has none. This is taken from him when Joyce separates from him. This act also empowers Jonathan to take a stand against him.

When we look at the wheel, there is some attempt at physical violence. The extent of violence towards Jonathan and Will is unclear. It's implied that he was emotionally and physically abusive towards Joyce, and a bad spouse who only cared about his desires. He used homophobic language towards Will, and Jonathan as the older sibling tried to protect Will from the ongoing arguments between Lonnie and Joyce, and any possible domestic violence he was responsible for.

Lonnie Byers used intimidation tactics on Joyce and the children. He may have tried to use institutions against Joyce to "win" arguments, but this isn't clear. The Byers are isolated because of their class, but it's unclear if he intentionally tried to isolate his children from their peers. He is emotionally abusive towards both his children. He doesn't appear to be economically responsible, as he contributes nothing to the family and attempts to exploit his son's death for profit. He does attempt to use his privilege as an adult to push and threaten Jonathan who with Joyce's help is able to kick him out.

Any power and control Lonnie has over his family has already been lost by the time The Byer's story is established in the first season. He comes back into their lives briefly as Will disappears and is presumed dead, when he tries to cash in on suing the quarry. He is a cheater, an alcoholic, and an opportunist. He is a dog with no bite, though, as any adult privilege and institutional power he may have had was ruined by his own reckless behavior and neglect. He is an abuser who neglected his responsibilities as a parent. However, he is not as we will see with Neil this kind of "mastermind" when it comes to power and control.

No child should have to take a stand against an abusive parent, but Jonathan did so with a relatively lower risk to his safety as Lonnie had already lost significant power and control over his family through Joyce's separation from him. It was still brave. It doesn't invalidate the seriousness of the situation to say this. It is just to establish that Joyce, Jonathan, and Will were and are in a different stage of "recovery" than Billy who I'll discuss next.

Without a doubt, Billy's father has more power and control over Billy than Lonnie has over Jonathan and Will. That doesn't invalidate anything Jonathan and Will may have gone through, but it's also important to be real about the danger of immediate harm an abused person is in when we have discussions like these. Unfortunately, Billy's story is split up into pieces across different mediums and he never gets to tell his own story. Still, there's more than enough evidence to show that Billy is at higher risk of being harmed by his parent and the kind of harm done to him spans almost all categories in the power and control wheel used above.

If we work backwards, we know that Neil abused Billy's mom. His physical violence is explicitly shown. Billy tries to protect his mother as a child, but he's also thrown to the ground. Then, Billy's mother leaves without taking him making him vulnerable to Neil's violence on a regular basis. This is not true for Jonathan and Will. Neil having full custody of Billy is dangerous for Billy, who has no rights or privileges to protect him as a child. Neil is continually able to use his adult privilege to control Billy and punish him if he does anything "wrong." Again, this is not true for Jonathan or Will.

If we take anything from Runaway Max to be true in combination with what we know to be canon in the show, Neil has used almost every single method on the power and control wheel to abuse Billy and there is no indication that he has stopped the entirety that Billy is on screen. Neil uses intimidation effectively to make Billy do what he wants him to do. This isn't true for Lonnie, who can't force his children to listen to him anymore. Neil threatens to send Billy away in the book (using institutions), and he moves Billy far from California in both the book and show which is a way of isolating Billy and using his adult privilege to control who Billy is able to see and where he is able to go. Lonnie doesn't have that kind of control over Jonathan and Will.

Similar to Lonnie, Neil is emotionally abusive. This kind of abuse is perhaps the most common, and it can do serious damage to a child's well being. This is where I want to emphasize that just because Lonnie isn't as immediately dangerous as Neil doesn't mean he didn't harm his children or that they don't need to heal from his abuse. That being said, Billy was still being subjected to this kind of abuse from his father who also called him slurs and hit him with no one to protect him. He had been abandoned by his mother who was the only one to express any joy or love for him. This did not happen to Jonathan and Will who still have a mother who loves them.

Continually denying a child their parent's love and actively teaching them that they're unlovable through emotional abuse and abandonment doesn't encourage any child to act positively or help others or be nice. Why would it? There's no motivation to try when the child is taught that no matter what they do they will be mistreated. That's what we see happen to Billy.

If you've read the book, then you know that Neil beats Billy unconscious. This may or may not be true for the show, but Neil's physical violence and Billy's reaction to it heavily imply that this happens regularly. Billy isn't shocked and he doesn't fight back. People have argued that Jonathan is braver than Billy because he pushes Lonnie away, but again Billy's situation is much more dangerous as he lacks any kind of support system outside of his father's custody over him and Neil is quantitatively more violent than Lonnie.

When people see scenes of Billy being abused or read about them, I want people to understand that these are not one and done incidents of abuse. They represent a pattern of behavior. A pattern of power and control over Billy by his abuser. When people look at these scenes, they need to understand that these things were happening to Billy frequently even if we don't see it happening frequently on screen.

I've seen people argue that Billy at ~12 years old is "continuing the cycle of violence" by bullying other kids while he's being abused, but I think that it's pretty harmful to compare a child's violence to that of their adult abuser. There are a multitude of cases of child abuse where a child exhibits violent behavior after enduring prolonged abuse at home. To say that child is now becoming the abuser isn't right, and it is that kind of thinking that trap these abused children in a dangerous situation without intervention.

Jonathan and Will weren't surviving the same situation as Billy, and they weren't left with the same choices to make. You can argue that everything is a choice, but a child who is in the custody of their abuser will behave a lot differently from a child who has a safe adult to live with. Children and even teens don't have all the tools to cope with abuse, so to praise one for surviving well and to condemn the other for not surviving well ignores the role that adults in our society play in protecting all abused children. We can't pick and choose who deserves to be treated with human dignity.

Billy has endured more abuse than Jonathan and Will. Neil is more violent than Lonnie. Neil has more power and control over Billy than Lonnie has over Jonathan and Will. Jonathan and Will have a loving mother and friends. Billy's mother abandoned him, and his step mother doesn't protect him. These should not be controversial statements to make, but I think people look at statements like these and think that saying these things invalidates the abuse that Jonathan and Will went through. It doesn't. It's just different, and it's ironic when the people who say that we're invalidating their trauma go on to mock Billy's suffering or use either Jonathan or Will as models of who Billy should be while surviving abuse.

At the end of the day, we've got to stop comparing apples to oranges here. Yes, I know. I've technically compared the two here, but it's only to establish that really these situations are different even if all child abuse can cause harm no matter the "degree" of it. We can't always predict how that will impact a child, but we do know things like early intervention and support systems matter. The fact that Jonathan and Will had that but Billy didn't, does matter.

[sonadowkismesis]

tell me about the gun commander! I need to hear your opinions I am deeply curious

hi! i really apologize for taking this long to respond. truth is, i didn't know where to start. given how bare bones the writing is when it comes to the commander, it's difficult to talk about his character without immediately dipping into speculation territory... and i'd end up asking myself things like "is this an actually widely accepted hc or just something i've thought about?"

so, i'm gonna lay my cards on the table here and say that this will mostly me sharing my thoughts (some more speculative than others) about unexplored aspects of his character, or things i think would have deserved to be expanded upon.

but first off, i'd like to advertise this post (the one that got me thinking about this in the first place!) so you can see where it is i'm coming from, and so i don't have to reiterate the points touched upon there

the first thing i noticed about the commander is how... he feels like a near perfect mirror to shadow, in a way that i don't think many people have noticed.

they're two people who lost the one most dear to them and thus blames the other for this tragedy, determined to take their revenge on those who wronged them. shadow blames gun, humanity -that of which the commander is a part of, meanwhile the commander casts gerald and the black arms, and therefore shadow, as guilty. while the commander has sat with his anger and sorrow for decades, shadow still holds the memory of the massacre fresh in his mind.

do you ever think about the fact that they might be the only people still alive who knew maria? the commander literally says he saw maria as an older sister figure. not friend, a sister. when you take into account that shth is the same game where shadow and maria are first referred to as siblings, it's hard not to see this detail as... deliberate.

it's almost like sonic team looked at shadow's grief and revenge arc from sa2, and thought "what if we did that again, but from the other side of the equation this time?". i'm not crazy it's right there dude. it's compelling as fuck and probably why i'll never think of the commander as the flopburger character others see him as.

something people might bring up as a plothole is the fact we never see the young commander on the ark before shth. if he and maria were this close as kids, how come we never see them together in sa2?

the commander is an obvious retcon (and not the only one in this game tbf), but that elephant aside, the shadow and maria scenes from sa2 are short and few enough that i don't think it's asking too much from our suspension of disbelief to imagine that young commander just. happened to be away during the duration of these scenes. in fact, i can think of at least a few good reasons for why it makes sense for him to not be around them at this time.

given his status as a top secret project, it's reasonable to think shadow would have had limited contact with anyone on the ark who wasn't a scientist. maria being an exception speaks for itself as she is gerald's granddaughter, and to some extent the person shadow was "made for".

but above all, i think when taking into account young commander's apparent terror from seeing shadow... i could easily see him try to avoid the hedgehog as much as he could. not yet out of hatred (the way i see it, his grudge against shadow and gerald would only grow after the ark raid happens) but more out of suspicion, distrust, and especially fear. he's so offput by the fact maria keeps hanging out with this guy, that he declines any of her suggestions to spend time with them.

sidenote: although it seems silly to us, i like to think most children would be scared of shadow, and the commander was no exception (especially considering black doom was like, right there which probably made the scene feel a lot more sinister). maria would then be a rare exception, as her bouts of compassion/sympathy towards the experiments on the ark seem to suggest. i could see her as the type of person to catch a bug and show it off to you for a bit, going on about how cute it looks... if she's a creature enthusiast, it would make sense why she clicked with shadow so well, in contrast to the commander.

i could imagine that in the event where shadow and young commander would have to pass eachother down the halls, yc would immediately try his best to put distance between him and the (dreadful) creature. switching lanes, changing directions, walking very close to the wall, you name it. (in my mind, shadow doesn't pay much mind to yc, but the fact that this kid seems to be that terrified of him is somewhat amusing)

anyways, it's that tendency to keep shadow at arm's length that leaves me thinking that his confrontation with shadow 50 years later could very well have been his first time... actually talking to the guy. because he never actually got to know shadow personally, his entire perception of him was built on unchecked biases given space to fester for decades on end. in these conditions, is it surprising that the commander ended up holding that grudge against shadow for all these years? how easy it is to project all the evil in the world onto someone you know next to nothing about?

the semi-hero story is the only path where the commander actually gets to talk to shadow face to face and... the shadow he meets feels lightyears away from the monster he had made him out to be, from his quiet and measured demeanor, to the graceful acceptance of his sins. and worse, shadow doesn't even remember the massacre the commander had been so eager to blame him for.

it's a brutal clash between reality and the fragile narrative he's constructed, one that literally leaves the commander to collapse on his knees. in that moment, it doesn't matter if shadow truly is responsible or not when the commander's biases and resolve have been shaken regardless. how could the hedgehog who spoke with so much truth and integrity be the evil demon he's been chasing after for so long? it just doesn't make sense.

i think for the most part, the commander's change of heart about shadow as it is depicted throughout the game does the job, and that string of dialogue where he invites shadow over to make amends is really sweet (although you can only hear it when playing the expert mode).

the commander hasn't been utilized again as a character after shth aside from a few scenes in chronicles, which is kind of a shame... because if there's one thing that i think should have been explored further, it's the commander's involvement with GUN. while we get a somewhat substantial exploration of his perception of shadow and its evolution, the same can't be said for the other side of the coin.

think about it, do we ever actually see him reflect on the fact that GUN was the one responsible for the ark raid all along? how does he feel about working for the organization who literally killed his family? does he even know about it for that matter??

personally, i often feel like a lot of the complaints about this plot point are done somewhat in bad faith? i've always held the opinion that young commander likely didn't know better or was misled on GUN's involvement on the ark, deliberately or not. i don't know about you, but to me, an 8yo child trusting a human-led organization who we know to lie to the general public in order to cover their tracks, over a scientist whom he personally saw create an all powerful creature with the help of an even more terrific alien demon kind of... speaks for itself. listen, my point is, it's not that hard to think of a reason why the commander would have this perspective on the events that transpired, especially given he was a small child when they happened.

but.

even putting sonic fans' obtuseness aside, the fact that none of this is touched upon in the actual game is such an oversight... like, it's a setup that never sees a pay-off or is ever called into question, and i understand shth is about shadow's character first and foremost, but jeez if you're gonna create a brand new character from scratch with their own backstory and motivations maybe don't leave a huge blank space right in the middle of it? it's sad because by diving into the circumstances of his enrolment at GUN, they could have covered some interesting themes like that of military indoctrination. and it would have added another layer of parallels between him and shadow, who is also deceived throughout the game and struggling to find the truth...

i think i've exhausted all the points i've wanted to make, so here are some dumb hcs i came up with that i didn't know where to mention

- since the commander was a child on the ark like maria, he might not have seen a lot of the earth so it's totally possible that shadow is the first mobian he ever saw, which would add to the spook factor

- the commander's parents were scientists who brought him along on the ark when he was little more than a toddler (i'm thinking around 4yo?). they were killed by GUN as part of the initiative to stop project shadow (afterwards the young commander would be told it was because of a freak accident involving gerald's roaming experiments, something he would believe for most of his life)

- after the ark raid, the young commander would be sent to live with distant relatives back on earth, all while being closely monitored by the organization (as they must have done with the other rescapees)

- the grandchild he mentions in expert mode is a little girl named alice, aka alicia. she was born on 30th october 2005, a few weeks before the game takes place (her parents were trying for an halloween baby and missed the mark by a day) (i may have kind of designed a whole family for the commander? if anyone's interested, maybe i'll post them eventually)

- the commander was granted access to a secret safe after rising through GUN's ranks. it has a ton of memorabilia that was locked in there after the ark shut down, away from prying eyes. as part of his effort to make peace with shadow, he invites him to go through it so he could recover some of his memories. among the countless toys and photos of maria he thought he'd never see again, there is no mention or pictures of project shadow at all, which was likely destroyed forever.

[spikeinthepunch]

thinking real hard about that new content in Painful bc i really love it-- while Painful did work well without more blatant explanations on Marty, Lisa, or Brad's past, it also meant there was some stuff I just never learned if i didnt play First at least (and my second play through of Painful brought even MORE clarity to me), and well honestly I just enjoy the deeper explorations of these characters. I already rambled about this content in a 2am post messily but now I am thinking hard about the cycle of abuse- specific to Brad and the general theme of new content in general being about how deeply rooted abuse is, improvement of yourself, letting go of guilt & anger and the importance of love.

in order to better break down the new content and how it adds things to the story i transcribed the new content-- queen's campfire dialog, mad dog's campfire dialog, and two large pieces of dialog from the nightmare scene. parallels! parallels everywhere! I uploaded it as a text file if you want to read it all yourself :)

also this means this post will be long as fuck. there are so many cool things to connect here.

This new content in Painful does a lot to express the years of shit Brad went through that further fed his issues. And while most of this ends up focusing on Marty (which I do thinks its important to not just throw Lisa on screen, her purpose is still as being 'off screen' for effect) it greatly helps Brad's character and the flashback to Lisa and him playing together or their convo before Brad runs away- fantastic addition alongside Buddy's later instance of putting makeup on Brad (made me extra sad)- and it 'humanizes' Lisa more. She existed- she was a sister with a brother and they hung out and had fun and they talked. etc. They existed in the same house and they endured horrible things.

I feel like this new content kind of hammered in the family like... the affect of abusive families. And what Brad has been missing from a normal upbringing, what he's lost after all this time because of abuse, and what he is desperately trying to get out of Buddy. At the end of the fight with flesh-mound Marty (we will be talking about this A LOT), this part especially feels like it reflects Brad's inability to not see Buddy as the redemption he needs, what he feels is the only thing to save him:

But if you stop. …if you do this. It's over. Dead. You know what happens. We can't let her out. She… She's gonna hurt us so bad.

Which also, I think parallels to Lisa too-- honestly. so much of what alludes to Lisa works well for Buddy and vise versa, for obvious reasons.

But the nightmare really just... you really get the feeling for how fucking exhausting it is. Brad is so tired and he's trying so hard. But the thought that says he will be like his father feels deep rooted- its his blood, Marty lives inside him, he can't fight it hard enough.

this next section of the flesh-mound boss fight ending has a clear conflict in his own thoughts. He recognizes it's all so tiring and it needs to be let go. But then it turns into anger at himself. And more likely recalling the tough words of wisdom his father gave him (or his grandpa too)

I know you're tired. All this anger. These memories. So many scars. So many mistakes. It all stings… So let it all go. You don't deserve it. The guilt is gonna kill you. Why can't you just let go? Be a man. When they hand you their heart. You don't bare yours. You eat it. Consume everything. Puke it up. Then eat it again. Eat like a dog. You know it only takes one taste. You know better than me. It's so fucking easy. And if you never stop… It feels so good.

Fun fact! The "When they hand you their heart. You don't bare yours. You eat it. Consume everything." gets referenced slightly in the new Joyful content, where Brad's friends are trying to recall some words of wisdom which they only recall as "Sometimes you need to just... Eat your heart out. Or something." Which implies Brad likely told them this line to some extent.

Oof. Probably my favorite excerpt from the boss dialog. Consume Everything. Puke it up, eat it again.... You know it only takes one taste. You know better than me... Marty's own behavior comes out here as he encouraged Brad similarly in other scenes. He's the one that's is in fact forcing Brad to get a "taste" of this. (Look back at the 'father' epilogue in Joyful). But he also makes Brad think that this is always all on him- by giving him the responsibility of "this is how men should be", it takes blame off of Marty and puts it on Brad for not "being a man" and thus, repeating these behaviors in a way that is often told to him as justified and as the right way to act.

He is constantly guilted and programed to this behavior in an extreme way by Marty taunting him, belittling and validating his own abusive behavior.

Let me cut over to Mad Dog's campfire scene. Yep! I promise its related (to me).

[cut to here. He is referring to what (seems to be) something his father said.] When I'm ready to die. We fight. You have to beat me. Then you will eat me. A dog in a dog in a dog in a dog. Hellacious. Miserable cycle. Never stop. Make. Us. More. Madness is a small cost. For power greater than love. […] Strength is our family. [Scene pans down the cliffs showing more and more skulls of humans and dogs hiden under ground. the next text appears on screen]: I love you… But I really have to go. [At the bottom of the cliffs, a spider much like the Marty-spiders appears, but with Brad's face instead.]

While this is something Mad Dog is saying as if its something his own father said to him, it seems pretty clear you can see the parallel to Brad. Honestly its way too accurate to ignore lol. the first line is strangely similar to things Marty says in the nightmare fight, and the "Dog in a dog" clearly feels very similar to the "eat like a dog" in that earlier quote i gave. Whats even more weird is the scene is pans through.

(Again not taking away from Mad Dog's own story, just explaining the parallel). The skulls that become more and more in the dirt feel like a metaphor for all the years of abuse, and the cycle of it. Now the Brad-spider? That surprised me.

Taking-

I love you… But I really have to go.

Feels like something related to Buddy. And I think this as well because of the spider at the end. Marty-spiders always felt like they were supposed to show how his effect is always there and you might now know where. His abuse still exists even in the smallest form. For a Brad one to be shown like that- I would read into it as how Brad is still going after Buddy, while his behavior is in fact abusive.

The hardest of it all is the imagery and the use of plural dialog too is that we really get to see how Brad feels like Marty is and always will be a part of him and that's what makes it so hard to change. And considering the above I mentioned, it makes sense.

We can't handle that, Brad. It's too painful. I'm not ready. We'll never be ready! Don't fight blood! Please! I'm fucking scared!

The desperation towards the end fits the idea of letting go of Lisa in the regard that the grief for her is also ruining Brad alongside his need to have Buddy as a way to atone for his behavior towards Dustin in the past, and try to not be like his father. And getting rid of that source is terrifying because it means a lot of scary things to him. The "us" and "we" keeps forcing that feeling that Marty is part of him, and that it really wants Brad to keep holding on because thats who he is. It is what he has been for so so long and he is terrified of letting go of grief because its what remains of Lisa in his head. And that letting go of Buddy would mean he is losing that opportunity to be the father he needs to be in order to prove he isnt like his father. These two reasons to not let go aren't good! They are not ways he should be living and he HAS to let that go.

But hey, thats not all. Let's get through the sad as fuck analysis okay? It'll get better.

As you descend a long rope as child!Brad you start to read a poem of sorts that I can only assume comes from Lisa. This excerpt also pops up in Joyful...

No friends. No brothers. No fathers. No mothers. Just me.

This gets repeated three times. Its weird but it always made me feel uneasy, and I think that is because it kind of focuses on how Lisa ends up being the core. When you apply this to Brad alone, it connects in the way that Lisa is the center of his grief and how that cancels out so much else in his life. Though i want to point out real quick-- it applies to Buddy in an interesting way that fufills their comparisons with the statues you destroy in Joyful. Very cool. And for Lisa it applies very blatantly. (No friends (Berny), No brothers (Brad), No fathers (Marty), No mothers (her own absent mom))

there is a LOT to this poem and you should look at that text post I linked to read it all. So I am just bringing up a one other part.

Deep below. A dark endless sea. A pain slumbers. One we'll never flee. Give me the strength. Let your memories set us free. So that when next we meet. I may grow into a mighty tree. [...] I know this wasn't easy. Thank you. …And Bradley, Good luck.

Oh yes, a step back to the boss dialog here, it's relevant:

I know you're tired. All this anger. These memories. So many scars. So many mistakes. It all stings… So let it all go. You don't deserve it.

This perfectly reflect points I have made up to this point regarding the way Brad holds onto his grief and even the earliest lines of the boss is trying to show him that. It's interesting that as the very start he's being so forgiving to himself then is devolves into more anger-- but here, once Brad has regressed, Lisa is the one to remind him this. I think its important to recognize how Its not about getting rid of Lisa's memory at all and this poem being spoken from Lisa (assumed) fits that. It isn't easy to recognize or to do this, it takes a whole different kind of strength.

In that text file i transcribed the end conversation between Brad & Lise where Brad says he is going to run away, but I won't be referencing it here... Do read it/watch it though.

If you read this far, good job! Just one more depressing thing though! The actual last thing said in the nightmare is great actually- for story telling. Because of course if this whole dream was trying to show that Brad has let go... well, it would kind of mess up the ending still carrying out with Brad still seeming unchanged.

Bradley, my boy. It's just not that easy. You can't save her. You can't even save yourself. After all… I'm in your veins..

Yes, thats it- thats the last part in the dream, where Brad sees a small flesh-mound Marty in blood. It doesn't ruin the fact Brad had this long ass dream. Its a great look into his mind. And how it entirely loops back. He really just... he really is stuck. You can see how damn hard he tries. But this theme of it being "in your blood" is SO fucking strong and it hurts. Because I think we all know, its not true. You are not fated to become the abuser. But god you can see how hard it truly is to fight what has been beaten into you for so long.

Right.

So looking at the parts where forgiveness are present... This pops up a bit in the new content- from this, too another campfire scene. I think the forgiveness and love sprinkled in is important to notice. A lot of people in Olathe in general are alone and without family. Brad has already been... alone, however. His family situation left him without affection, and an upbringing that left no proper parent to attach to meant he'd already not receive the affection he needed in order to give that to others properly. He had no one, and when he did finally have someone- Dustin- he still never received the love he didn't know he needed because of what was taught to him. And he did it again to Buddy.

This is obvious when you get to the end of the game. When Brad wants buddy to hold him.

And, Queen's dialog with Brad pulls a lot more of that conversation to the surface.

Being held by someone you love is the best feeling in the entire universe. […] These men out here. All this strength. This power. Your respect… you can't take it with you when you die. It wont save you. It doesn't matter how powerful you are. No ideas matter. No experience matters. None of that shit that's consumed you your whole life matters. You're completely naked in the face of death. Its terrifying. Now, a good hug. That matters. Honestly, it ain't gonna change much… dead is dead. But the way i see it. You can die afraid. Lost in your own mind. Haunted by the guilt of all your mistakes. Tormenting nightmares wondering what comes next. Or… you can be in the moment with someone you love. Someone that makes you feel like nothing else matters. Nothing could be more important than feeling each other's warmth and love. No thinking. Just feeling.

Brad's earlier chat included him bringing up how he didnt let Dustin or Buddy get physical affectionate too- theres some earlier chitchat that you may want to see in a video. But honestly the realization of how little affection Brad has received, due to Marty's influence, makes things even more depressing when you see how hard it is to let go.

Everything, everything is tied together. He can't let go. So he cant end the abuse. So he fails to ever change. So he never receives the love he truly wants and needs. By the end of the game, when you have that option to hold him, that new dialog hits even worse. And I don't think it is even to try and sway people into hugging Brad. if anything it kind of just opened up to me why Buddy shouldnt need to hold him. And how it is honestly something so much deeper. His struggle has infected everything he wants in life that he just keeps failing to have.

It depresses him, it discourages him. I can't even find more words to explain how heavy the weight is on someone like Brad after years and years of horrible abuse and never getting the help he so much needed.

[bookwyrminspiration]

In Flashback Gethen says Lady Gisela is preparing Sophie’s replacement it hasn’t came up in the books since. What do you think he meant?

Excellent question! So, looking at the scene, the exact thing he says is "the only reason we haven't taken you out is because Lady Gisela is still clinging to her hope that you'll prove yourself useful, especially with her son. But her patience will only last so much longer. In fact, she's already preparing your replacement" (90).

So the purpose Gisela sees in Sophie is to aid Keefe to some extent--which reminds me of what she said about intentionally keeping Sophie awake at the end of Legacy. Sophie is both incredibly talented and important to Keefe, and they can be used against each other. Sophie cares about Keefe and so, if the cards are placed right, will play into Gisela's hands to make sure he's okay (e.g. staying mentally with him as Gisela has him blasted). Additionally, there is very little if not nothing Keefe wouldn't do for Sophie; via Sophie, Gisela can get immense leverage to get Keefe to go along.

However, these attributes would be difficult to replicate. Creating/finding someone they're willing to do practically anything for doesn't seem like a solid plan, so what other use does Sophie serve? It makes me think of the line where, I believe it was Ro, tells Sophie that the Neverseen would probably also love to convert her to their cause. (Yes there's a similar one from Alden about the black swan, but I know there's one about the Neverseen even though I don't remember specifics atm).

Gethen specifies Keefe as being a main motivator, but not the only one. In which case, we'd be looking at Sophie's immense power and influence--which Lady Gisela could feasible replicate/replace. Via Keefe. At this point in the series he hasn't been blasted yet, Lady Gisela's still doing preparations. There's been a pretty big parallel growing between Sophie and Keefe, so Lady Gisela would be preparing to replace the freakishly powerful good little rebel who's rocking the whole world with one of her own. It may seem obvious in hindsight given 8-9's events, but at this point in time we didn't know anything about that.

Just in case that is too obvious, though, we can circle back around to the guaranteeing his good behavior via Sophie thing. The replacement wouldn't have to be another person, though it is what my mind first went to. In this situation, Gisela has eliminated Sophie and instituted something else, so the question becomes what does she think he would care about enough in her absence to listen to her. Now I'm not convinced with Sophie gone Keefe would have anything to lose, but Gisela's not aware of just how much her son is going to continue fighting her. It's possible Sophie's memory/something she left behind could be used, but that doesn't feel much like a replacement. I don't have a good answer for this one--maybe she could prey on his guilt related to Ethan and Eleanor, or other things related to lost memories we have yet to recover. Promising information, or implying certain things (that he was, in fact, at fault for example) to break him down. It's hard to guess because, like I said, this is where I think there's a flaw in Gisela's plan; she thinks there's something that can replace Sophie to Keefe, but there isn't, so any attempt will be doomed.

Anyway, that jumped around a little, but my guesses with this are either that 1. Keefe is meant to be Gisela's replacement for Sophie, or 2. she intends to try (and fail) at replacing the leverage Sophie gives her over Keefe. But I may be entirely off, who knows!