#but this time it exists out in the world and I love that it does!!!

[kazanoic]

Hello! How about a fic where Jiyan falls in love with a courtesan and decides to buy her out of the brothel? Like in the red light district, where girls (or guys) ended up because of debts.

DREAMS OF THE CAGED. jiyan / gn.reader

-> a toast to a better future

tw: anything to do with brothels (nothing suggestive or explicit however.)

wc: 1.6k

a/n: shh you never saw me struggling with romance, of course not. this took everything out of me to finish, and as always, I don't know batshit about brothels and how they function.

From the moment you learned to think, you knew almost instantly that you would be burdened with the ever-so-increasing debt your parents will put on you. You never blamed them for gambling, for being addicts— because every decision they make; be it stupid or not makes perfect sense to them at that time… but one thing you will never understand is why they needed to so badly have you. You will never understand why they didn’t just die in debt and end their overflowing legacy of liabilities. You will never understand why you’re born into this world, and you blame them for it every second of your goddamn life.

When the familiar piercing ray of light catches your eyes, you remember your place in this overwhelming sea of madness; a lowly courtesan who serves the scums of the earth. You don’t know whether to thank your “agents” for deeming you attractive enough to appease those of a higher status, because frankly rich or poor, they are all the same. Insufferable.

You walk out of your room, ignoring the obscene sounds that echoes throughout the halls. As you attempt to leave the brothel, a co-worker catches you.

“Break?”

“Yeah, I'll be back in an hour.”

“I’ll call you back if there’s a client coming on short notice,” the brothel-keeper pipes in.

“Madame, please don’t,” you chuckle.

“Hold up, I’ll go on break with you, I have 15 minutes!” That same coworker spoke, walking quickly to your side.

As you trudged through the red neons of the district, the both of you started to talk— the sound of conversation and laughter slowly fills the air as you talked about your dreams; to live a life free of worries— to exist far far away from the harsh turbulences of life, and to enjoy the simple act of just existing.

“As a kid, I wanted to be a farmer."

“No way? Are you being serious?”

“Yeah, doesn't it sound pretty great?”

“It actually does seem pretty nice.”

But no matter how much one wished, or hoped, or begged– at the end of the day wishes are just merely wishes. It doesn't matter whether you wished upon a shooting star or the your bedroom ceiling, wishes are simply just a strong desire for things that are unattainable. So Instead of longingly looking at stars in the night sky, counting how much money you needed to have your debt repaid, and to live a long fulfilling life, you decided that you just had to suck it up.

‘Ah! My 15 minutes is up, I have to get back to the brothel! See ya,” your coworker waved before swiftly making their way back into the brothel.

You wish them good luck before continuing on your mindless journey, relishing in your short lived break before a tuft of fur catches your eyes. You smiled before quickly walking up to the feline, “Miao Mao, did you get fatter?” You squat to get a closer look, keeping your hands to your knees so as to not taint your fingers with their “filth”. Having enough fun, you got up as graciously as you possibly could so as to not taint your image with such inelegance. As soon as you got up, you made eye contact with a stranger, and you couldn't help but stare just a little longer than you should've.

‘Madame's client?’ You deduce. Your time here was more than enough for you to more or less pinpoint the types of people seeking for pleasure and those seeking for an informant. He was obviously seeking for the latter– there was an air of hesitancy and slight discomfort around him; that alone was apparent enough to you. He might not be madame's client, but his hanfu and appearance told you otherwise. Madame's service is the most pricey and yet the most accurate one in the entire district; it'd be frankly stupid, if he didn't go to her for whatever intel he seeks.

You contemplated for a bit if you should approach the confused man yourself, but that thought was cut short as the man walked towards you. “Hello. I am looking for…” He paused for a second, seemingly as a cover for his embarrassment, “Mei Mei Brothel… do you know where it is?” He muttered as quietly as he could while still making sure you could listen so he wouldn't have to repeat himself. You laughed at his demeanor before opening your mouth, “well aren't you adorable? I'm on my way there, shall we go together?” He nodded silently before walking beside you, matching your pace just right.

“Are you a…” He tried striking up a conversation.

“Yeah. I'm a courtesan there,” you reply.

“I see,” he thought a little more, half hoping to continue the conversation but promptly walked by your side in silence to prevent you from saying anything you didn't want to.

“I've been working here since I was 14, so I'm quite familiar with this place. If you ever need a place to eat or whatever, you know where to go,” you use your head to point at the neon billboard of the brothel you worked at.

You walked in the brothel, the familiar sweet scent obliterates your nose– the man scrunched his nose ever so slightly as he followed you in.

“Is Madame here? There's a client waiting for her,” You spoke to the receptionist.

“Madame's still with a client, she'll be done in a few minutes,” the receptionist looked at you before averting her eyes to Madame's client. “While waiting, do choose a courtesan. It will be free of charge,” the receptionist hands him a book filled with all the courtesans working in the brothel. He opened the book to scan for you. When he found you, he looked at the receptionist and said your name.

You heard your name escape his lips and you froze. ‘do I… have to walk back…’ Before letting you decide, the receptionist beckons you over, knowing you wouldn't have arrived at your room yet.

“Let’s go, shall we?”

“Yes.”

You occasionally glanced at his monotonous expression, hoping it’d crack just a bit under the sounds that echoed throughout the halls.

“Since you now know my name, it is only fair that I have yours, no?”

“I apologize for not telling you sooner. My name is Jiyan.”

“…”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Of course not. I just didn’t quite expect you to be the general.”

“Do I look unfit to be one?”

You slid open the room, ushering him to sit on a cushion on the wooden floor.

“I think you’re too attractive to be one,” you laugh, “if i knew you were the general I should've treated you with more respect.”

“There really is no need for that. I’d like it better if you’d stay as you are.”

You turn on the lights, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

“I’ll keep that in mind, general.” He gives you a look, one which you return with a grin.

“Would you like some tea?” You ask in which he replies with a curt nod. You brew the tea wordlessly, slowly pouring it on a clean cup.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“Thank you,” he smiles.

“I’m sorry I didn't recognise you sooner, we don’t get a lot of news here, so most of us don’t know what you look like— we heavily rely on word of mouth here. They’re plenty reliable.”

“I don't mind the slightest,” he says before picking up the cup, blowing it quietly; the steam floating slightly above the cup splits apart under his breath before reforming once more. The cycle repeats a few more times before he places his lips on the cup, taking a sip.

“It's good.”

“I'm glad you like it.”

“Do you usually drink tea?”

“If the guests would like me to do so, I would. Otherwise I do not,” you say truthfully.

Before Jiyan could respond, the door slid open, the long-awaited figure emerged at last.

“General, I sincerely apologize for the wait. My previous client was rather demanding.”

“I understand,” Jiyan replies. He finishes the remaining tea in his cup and stands. He looks at you, smiling, “thank you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” You return the smile.

“I'll see you again?” He asks, almost hesitant.

“You know where to find me.”

– x –

For what seems to be weeks, he'd come to meet the brothel keeper for his needed information; making sure to come a few minutes earlier so you could keep him company for the time being. But you don't realize when it all started to change– when his purpose shifted from getting information to meeting you.

Buying your time for hours on end not for the reasons one would go to a brothel, but just to exist with you– to live beside you for just a little bit every once in a while.

“You know this isn't what brothels are for, right? Brothel's aren't used to making friends, Jiyan,” you laugh as you joke.

“I don't want to be friends with you.”

“Brothel's aren't used for courting either, darlin’,” you smile half heartedly, looking at the man's frown, “it's not that I don't want to, princess. it's that it's written in my contract– unless you're willing to wait 5 years for my debts to settle.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Not one I've ever heard of.”

Unbeknownst to you, the day when Jiyan left your room, he approached the brothel keeper, beckoning her to give him a way to free you of the shackles you were forced upon. She told him that there was a way: to have him pay your debts. He agrees soundlessly, promising you the freedom you've always dreamt of.

So when you hear the news the next day, he stood waiting for you.

“Let's go, shall we?”

“You stole my damn line.”

“Are you upset?”

“Don't give me that face, sweetheart. I very well know your intentions.”

You walk towards him before pressing a kiss onto his lips.

all rights reserved © kazanoic // do not copy, translate, repost.

[gaymurdersalad]

Jack! You should try talking it out with Dave. Tell him how you feel, how from your perspective how tiring and agonising this whole situation is.

Dave cares about you a lot. I'm sure he'll understand you.

> Fuck you! Quit giving me those puppy dog eyes! It’s not gonna work this time, no, you’re not gonna ruin my life and waltz back in like we’re still friends. I only liked you when I hated myself. Get it through that fucking lobotomized skull, you purple leech.

> ��� Do you even realize what you’re sayin’ to me, Sportsy?

> I know exactly what I’m saying! You deaf too, you bastard?

> I didn’t ask for your help! Y’know, Sportsy, I coulda been perfectly fine rotting in that alleyway! You didn’t HAVE to drag me back to your home just to fuckin’ chew me out you goddamn hypocrite! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

> It was a moment of weakness. Never in my right mind would I ever let you back in here!

> Sportsy, I know that ain’t really what you think, so can you stop bein’ so goddamn difficult and just tell me what the hell is pissin’ you off today?

> Today? Today?! You’ve been making my life fucking miserable since the moment I met you! You saw I was struggling, you noticed that I hated the company, and instead of leaving me well enough alone, you took advantage of me and made me do your fucking dirty work! I was prepared to do good, I was prepared to save whatever kid was stupid enough to let your cryptid ass lure them into the backroom, but god, when offered with the opportunity to burn it all down, I took it! I couldn’t have met a worse person, someone who fed into that fucking hate and malice and made me worse!

> You’re— You’re blaming me? Sportsy, You’re grown! You are a grown man, you made your own goddamn decision! How are you being so childish right now?! Stop tryin’ to escape the parts you don’t like about yourself, just deal with ‘em like every other adult!

> Deal with it?

> I killed children! Little kids!

> And that’s somehow my fault?

> If you’d have never been there, I never would have done it.

> But you did, you stupid motherfucker, you did! So grow up!

> If you weren’t so fucking obsessed with the legacy of a man that doesn’t even love you, I would never be here! I’d still be living my shitty existence with my shitty family in a shitty house that I couldn’t afford in a shitty world with a shitty job! Your bullfuckery cost me a life, it costed dozens of kids their futures, it destroyed families! Telling me to grow up?? You can only do whatever the fuck your daddy tells you to do!

> Do you know what the hell this means to me? Do you even understand why I’m doin’ this at all? It’s ‘cause I trust him, Sportsy, I trust him with my life ‘cause he’s saved it over and over again! You don’t know what’s happened to me, you don’t know what the hell I’ve seen, what Henry’s dragged me out of! You’ll never fuckin’ understand what he means to me!

> You’re right. I don’t know. Although what I do know, as any other sane, rational person would, is that whatever he’s done for you, it does not justify snuffing out the lives of little kids as some twisted form of gratitude.

> You’re bein’ really unfair!

> Unfair?? I didn’t realize murder was unfair! Okay, you should have every right to take someone else’s life! It’s only fair! It’s only right ‘cause it’s Henry!

> You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you ain’t never had a dad, you don’t know what the fuck I’d lose if I didn’t satisfy him!

> …

> Yeah, turns out I ain’t brain dead, you soulless bastard. I remember everything you’ve ever told me. Everything you spilled outta those rotten guts in Vegas. You wanna know why, you sick fuck? ‘Cause I liked you. I liked how you treated me, like a person. Lookin’ at me wit’ them doe eyes, so fuckin’ receptive and so goddamn… affectionate.

> Look, Sportsy, I know you whether you want me to or not. I know you don’t hate me, I know you never did. I don’t hate you neither. It’s not a question of if you’re ashamed of what you’ve done or whether it’s my fault or not— you like me. You are so fuckin’ violated to know that I can see through you. Sometimes that’s what I like about you, but right now it’s pissin’ me off. Lay down the goddamn charades and tell me what you want without usin’ any of that goddamn language you were dishin’ out earlier.

> Stop living for Henry.

> …

> Stop making it impossible for me to like you.

> … I can be close with Henry and still be your friend, Sportsy—

> No, you can’t! My entire reason for existence is to right Henry’s wrongs! My best friend cannot be his fucking protégé! Dave, you don’t understand what this is doing to me! I want you more than I want to do good in the world! Do you realize how sincerely fucked up that is?!

> … You’re not the only one who feels this way, Sportsy. This is puttin’ me in a uncomfortable position too. You’re askin’ me for a lot.

> I didn’t realize not murdering anyone required serious introspection.

> Gah, it’s not just about the murder, get over it! That’s all you ever wanna fuckin’ talk about! The very fuckin’ notion that I should lay all my loyalties down for the likes of you is downright insulting— the one who abandoned me after givin’ me a taste of humanity! Yer a joke and a conman and I cannot fuckin’ stand you!

> Yet I care about what you think of me, which is the wildest part of it all! I want you to like me again, but as you’ve so clearly forced down my throat, you won’t do it again unless I betray my own father! Unless I submit to YOUR goddamn ideology! Is it just that you’re usin’ me? Do you just want another pair of hands just like I asked for yours all those years ago? Trynna worm your way into a heartless vessel, are ya? All I got left is my brain, Sportsy, and you and that pink fuck are rippin’ it apart at the seams! Gah!

> You ain’t blameless yourself, anyhow! What, you had one good trip on ether and decided you were a saint? You’ve killed same as me, don’t you dare try and look down on me like you’re any better! So easily persuaded to kill, so easily persuaded to spare— can you ever make up your goddamn mind, or are you just gonna let people boss you around your entire afterlife? Yer like a fuckin’ sheep, like goddamn livestock for people that wanna use you! Turns out we ain’t so different after all, huh?!

> GOD, YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING PLAGUE!

> I WISH I NEVER TOLD YOU TO SKIP WORK! I WISH I MAIMED YOU IN THAT SPRINGLOCK SUIT, I WISH EVERY RIGGED PIECE IN THAT FUCKIN’ THING WRANG THE LIFE OUTTA YOU OUT FOR GOOD! GOD, I WISH YOU WERE FUCKIN’ DEAD!

> … You… You wish you what…?

> …!

[jrueships]

Paul George on Stephen A. Smith’s Kawhi Leonard jab: “I didn’t like that moment… Kawhi wants to play… We exhausted a lot out of Kawhi this season. So at some point your body breaks you down… I didn’t appreciate that moment. I know I laughed because the situation was lighthearted, but deep down it was like you gotta let that go, Stephen A.”

Paul George, knight in shining armor

[baked-potatoes-rule]

The Yellowjackets playing The Sims

Jackie : She loves building her own house! She takes time to make it as perfect and as fancy as her starter budget allows her too(not really, she uses cheat codes so she can buy all the expensive crap). After she's done building, she plays for a bit but gets bored pretty soon, so she just starts over again! She loves playing "House" with Shauna and she always makes her be the mom.

Shauna : She loves building her own house as well. However, Shauna plans the build and budget's properly. She doesn't use cheat codes. She settles for humble beginnings. She always builds a little library corner and she makes her Sim sit there and read while she's too busy dissociating while thinking of...stuff(Jackie...Jackie is said stuff). They sometimes play together because Jackie insists it will be fun. Shauna likes to pretend she finds it annoying but she secretly LOVES it. That's until their respective Sims have a baby, Jackie's Sim starts spending way too much time outside their house( she's supposed to get a job but for some reason she's always late for it? she never makes it). Shauna's stuck at home, rushing around for the baby, cleaning after annoying guests and she also has to cook. Their house is often on fire and eventually Shauna doesn't even bother after things get out of control. Their expensive oven is burning, the bathroom is a mess, the baby is on the floor, crying and she's absolutely at her wits end. "Jackie you need to pitch in...I can't do everything by myself." Deadbeat dad Sims award goes to Jackie.

Misty : Misty loves the game. She plays by herself mostly, she finds it peaceful. She loves it when guests come to visit her Sim but she sometimes gets annoyed when they won't leave. She secretly wishes she could build a basement and torture them to death there.

Natalie : Natalie isn't much of a Sims girl but when she does play, she doesn't take it seriously. She does her best to make her Sims's life awful, by letting them pee themselves, not showering, not cleaning after they eat, removes the ladders from the pool, and doesn't bother to use the fire extinguisher. She fucking hates guests. "Who even shows up unannounced? Opening people's fridges and shit 🙄"

Tai&Van : These two ALWAYS play together. In fact if Van plays without Tai being there, they are guaranteed to have a fight. "We're in this together. It's OUR quality time gaming thing!" She sucks at the game and Van always has to explain to her what to press and what to do. It's as if she doesn't even bother remembering at first. Until she learns. One day Van finds her playing by herself. "The fuck?" Tai : I'm practising my skills."

Lottie : She uninstalled the game and decided to never play again after spending 32 hours in front of her screen, completely forgetting the outside world exists.

[bitchinbarzal]

CASUALTY | J DOOHAN

Summary: in the battle between love and war, you were just a casualty.

-

The sneaking around wasn’t to benefit you, you didn’t really think it would change much. However, Jack thought it best to keep it all a secret. Not wanting to have a single thing tarnish his name on the come up to Formula One. He couldn’t be seen to be fucking the social media girl, not now.

This set up worked for a couple years, supporting him from the sidelines during F2. Never getting to congratulate him on the wins in public the way all the other girlfriends got to but you just accepted that, this is how it was.

You assumed that one day this set up would come to an end and that you would go public, you could post him on social media and vice versa, stopping the thirsty girls in his comment section.

As time crept on you came to realise this would never change, he was always going to hide you from the world. Leading to the screaming match you were having after witnessing him get awfully friendly with a girl in the club post Charles’ Monaco win.

“You always do this!”

“Do what? Dislike my boyfriend openly flirting with people in public like I don’t exist?!”

“You know I can’t do that with you, babe you understand-“ he stressed but you scoffed

“I actually don’t! I don’t get it how we’ve been together for years and we can’t come out about it! I want to be proud of you in public”

He sighed, pinching his forehead “We can’t”

“And why not?!”

“Because you work here! We can’t ever be public!” He bellowed, startling you with his volume.

Your brows furrowed “Ever? As in, you don’t ever intend to tell people we’re together? Like this has been a waste of what, two years of my life?!”

Jack’s face went from one of anger and outburst to worry upon seeing the tears lining your eyes “This really does mean nothing to you, god I’m a fucking idiot!”

“No, no it does! I love you, of course I do”

“It doesn’t feel like it!”

“Y/N just calm down” his hand dropped onto your shoulder and you just pushed it away “Don’t touch me”

The room fell silent, the only sounds being those still partying in Monacos streets.

You bit your bottom lip in an attempt not to sob

“Babe please, say something”

“I think we’re done Jack”

He nods “Ok, good idea we go to sleep and just clean slate in the morning” turning to his side of the bed.

You stayed still, shaking your head “No, no we’re done Jack. We can’t be together”

The sounds that escaped him weren’t comprehensible “You don’t mean that, you’re angry”

“You’re right, I’m hurt, angry and heartbroken and anyone who truly loved me wouldn’t make me feel that way. I’m gonna go share a room with the social team, see you around Jack”

He didn’t know what to say, speechless as he watched you collect your coat and kiss him on the cheek on your way out the room.

He couldn’t comprehend what was happening. This wasn’t real. In the morning he’d find you and you’d all be fine, this was just a fight.

He was wrong. In the morning he found out he’d been removed as a follower on your socials and you were gone from the hotel along with your team.

He hadn’t heard from you until he received a box to his door with your handwriting, the contents being stuff he’d left at your apartment. The memories from the past two years of his life squashed into a cardboard box.

He couldn’t stay stuck on it, he was moving quick and fast with Alpine. He knew you’d know.

When the call came in, he’d be driving in Canada he was ecstatic. Not only for the drive but he knew he’d be seeing you again. That you’d be there on media day.

The team knew he was looking for you when he walked in. They exchanged knowing glances.

“Jack this is Aaron, our social media manager. I don’t think you’ve met!”

Jack scowled “where’s Y/N?”

“Y/N quit…”

His heart dropped “W-what?”

“She just quit after Monaco, I don’t know”

He never drove in Canada. Sure this was his cosmic karma for what he did.

When the call came in during Saudi that he’d be an Alpine Driver for 2025 he wanted to call you immediately.

He paused before hitting call, unsure you’d care or that you hadn’t blocked him.

It got to two in the morning before he called, getting your voicemail

“I did it. I’m going to be fucking f1 driver, I really did it and i really wish you were here. God, I miss you”

The off season was spent in the gym, getting into the best shape he could.

Australia.

His home race was his first.

He was beyond nervous.

Social media, Aaron hadn’t stopped harassing him and while he appreciated it was his job Aaron didn’t seem as stealthy as you.

He qualified in the top ten and he was feeling on top of the world. Only one thing would make this better.

All of his family were there, all hosted in Alpine’s hospitality. He was just missing you.

On Sunday, despite his nerves he finished P9. Top 10.

He was celebrating as though he’d won the WDC.

His family were waiting for him in his garage, navigating to them when he stopped in his tracks.

You, stood with your old colleagues chatting away. The room fell silent when he saw you and you looked up with a cautious glance

“You’re here…”

“Congrats J, P9 that’s-“

“Shut up” he mumbled, striding across the room to kiss you. You melted into it, grasping at his forearms to balance yourself.

When you eventually pulled away for air you gasped lowly “shit, everyone-“

He shook his head “I care about you and only you. They do not matter. I’m really really sorry it took you losing your job to see that”

You didn’t get the chance to reply before Alex passed by the front of the garage “Hey Y/N! See you at work Monday?”

You looked up bashfully at a confused Jack

“So… I’m back on the grid I guess?”

“As long as you’re back with me, I’m supporting you wherever you go”

[mothmanssweetsucculentass]

Nina The Killer Headcanons

Psycho Barbie’s turn in the spotlight!!!!

I’ve always thought Nina in concept was so fucking cool, like, an obsessed fangirl becoming a copycat killer always scratched a good niche in my brain, so I never hated her like most of the fandom did when I was younger, I just never really interacted with anything about her cause. The fandom hated her, lmao.

Expect canon typical violence/topics beyond this point pookies <3

TGIRL SWAG!!!!!!!!! Nina is trans I’m making it canon right now and you can’t do shit about it

Roughly about 25, two years younger than Jeff

Ann ain’t the only zombie adjacent character in the mansion

Nina actually has zero fucking clue why she keeps coming back every time Jeff murders her, but she’s having fun with it so ig it’s fine right?

Some of the more supernaturally intelligent members of the mansion also have no fucking idea what her deal is. By all accounts she should be dead and rotting a thousand times over

Eyeless Jack has done four vivisections on her and all yielded the same result, human

Except humans don’t bounce back after having their heart cut out????

Seconds after losing organs they just???? Reappear??? Inside her body???? What the fuck????

Out of everyone she’s a massive enigma. No one can figure it out but everyone loves using her as a guinea pig for murder purposes

Ya girl is such a masochist she actually gets disappointed when people don’t like testing new stabbing methods on her

She’s so unapologetically a freak, she’s cringe, but she’s free

Out of everyone in the mansion she’s the easiest to get along with

Sometimes to her detriment, her hyper extroverted personality off puts some of the more quiet and reserved inhabitants

No one truly hates her, you can’t exactly hate someone who doesn’t have a combative bone against you in their body, but not everyone likes to stick around her

It bothers her only a little bit when she’s noticed she’s pushed people away with her intense personality (it bothers her A LOT-)

She loves collecting and gifting trinkets and jewelry to people. The amount of Kandi bracelets she’s made Jeff and Ben, good lord-

The most persistent determined bitch in the world. You would have to nuke her entire existence to get her to stop focusing/going after something

Of course it ends up making her stubborn

Buuuuuuut she’s also an honorary favorite dog of Slenderman

The household often has monthly contests to see who can have the highest body count. You’ll never guess who’s almost always in the top 3

So she’s out on missions a lot. She comes back and gossips talks about what’s happened when she comes back two days later

Surprisingly doesn’t have a sweet tooth? You’d think with how manic she acts she injects sugar and caffeine into her bloodstream, but nope, she doesn’t. She hates fruit candies and can only stomach dark chocolate

Always comes back from hits and supply runs with tons of candy anyways to share with everyone

Is a SLUT for spicy foods

Ann had to cut her tongue off one time because she fucked it up so bad eating stuff that was borderline radioactive with how spicy it was

Everyone is convinced she would eat actual nuclear waste if given the chance just to feel the burn

The biggest foodie in general too. She’s not the best at cooking but everyone loves her pancakes

Ben made a joke one time about her putting crack in the batter. Two weeks later she had to apologize to mansion parents Masky and Hoody about why half the house was suffering withdrawal symptoms. Someone has to monitor her while she cooks now. Bummer.

She’s a total junkie but she is responsible about it at least dammit!

Like yeah she gets stoned out of her goddamn mind with Ben every other weekend, but that shit doesn’t leave her or his room

She has to set a good example for Sally!!!!!

The kid fucking adores Nina like a big sister

Nina is always bringing her goodies and toys

In return Sally does her makeup for the day

Does it look like a 5 year old scribbled all over her face? Yes and she doesn’t care!!!! She wears that shit with pride

Helen made fun of it once and he has since learned not to piss off the hyperactive pink glitter mayhem lady who knows how to wield a chainsaw

Oh yeah fuck knives. Nina got tired of knives pretty quick. Ya girl USES A CHAINSAW

It’s totally not the same kind of chainsaw Jeff used when he was a scare actor in college shut up no way

She’s really good with the thing too. It’s so heavy and she totes it around like it weighs nothing

She’s got such a sleeper build it’s insane. She’s 5”2 and 160 pounds of pure whoop ass

AND SHE DOES IT ALL IN PLATFORMS AND ACRYLIC NAILS??????

She’s just constantly full of energy and needs to be doing something at every second or she thinks she’ll explode

Besides her signature chainsaw covered in stickers and glitter, she’s also pretty handy with handguns, axes, and baseball bats

She’s got a small collection of weapons under her bed

Three guns (all customized with stickers and paint), a large axe (with a heart in the middle of the blade), and two baseball bats (one covered in nails)

Her room is a fucking mess but she knows where anything and everything is

Girl can’t even see her floor and she’s somehow able to find what she needs in there

Bead curtains, a disco ball, leopard print carpet on the ceiling, lava lamps, it looks like scene mixed with the 70’s threw up in there

Not exactly the most fashionable but has the biggest wardrobe and most flashy way of dressing

Like. I don’t even think she owns anything solid. Definitely not solid black

Has given herself many tattoos and piercings

To the point she’s so good at it that the others start coming to her asking for her to do the same to them

Her hair never stays one color for long, but often goes between red and purple

Is best friends/close with: Ben, Kagekao, Jason, LJ, Sally, the Puppeteer, Clockwork, and Jane

Has a tolerable relationship/is neutral about: Masky, Hoody, Liu, Eyeless Jack, Ann, Helen, and Slenderman

Hates no one

Has a… questionable relationship with Jeff

When first starting off he fucking hated her, but she was so goddamn persistent and just kept getting back up despite the multiple times he was certain he’d killed her, to the point she’s grown on him like a parasite

She sees him as her ultimate best friend, her ride or die, and he’s flattered…but he definitely doesn’t feel intensely as she does

Like he obviously doesn’t hate her anymore and actually quite enjoys her company. But she also annoys the shit out of him and he often finds himself needing a break from her constant state of “on”. Girl has no off switch

The two of them are often found lounging together and talking random shit, or sparring

She believes that somehow the first time he killed her, it gave her her weird zombie regeneration abilities

And of course she thinks that’s cool as fuck and nearly worshipped the ground he walks on because of it

The more time has passed the more she’s grown to stop feeling like she needs him to function

She went from making herself Jeff’s biggest fan her whole personality to becoming an actual decent person outside of her unhealthy obsession with him

Surprisingly never had any romantic feelings for the man

Like yeah she was obsessed but not like that

She just thinks he’s waaaaay cooler than other people see him as

Jane and Clockwork are her girl solidarity bffs

Jane was practically the girl’s mentor in how to be girl 101 when Nina was beginning to realize she was trans

Whereas Clockwork was her combat mentor who taught Nina everything she knows about kicking someone’s ass

They went from her cool lesbian moms to her cool lesbian besties

She’s one of the only few who can tolerate LJ’s nonsense

And by nonsense I mean his usual mad hatter ramblings and personality. Nina thinks it’s hilarious and loves that he’s just as down to clown (SORRY) as she is

Her, him, and Sally are the prank trio

The two would do anything to hear that little girl erupt into giggles

Her and Ben bond over scene fashion and old internet stuff

Ben is also her weed dealer. He’s everyone’s weed dealer but she gets special treatment and doesn’t have to pay him shit cause they’re besties

She’s a pretty positive person overall but cannot fucking stand/HATES anyone outside the mansion

She views everyone there like family

The outside world not so much. Bullying has really left her bitter

Hates blackmail but definitely holds grudges!!! It’s hard to get on her bad side though, so no one’s worried about it

Loves breakcore, kpop, jpop, any kind of hyper and electronic music, extra points if it’s pop

[bullet-prooflove]

Hi,

From Taylor Swift mixed tape list can I ask for 21) Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours for Terry Silver? 🤍

Tagging: @volumesofforgottenlore@kmc1989@somethingdarkside17@noonee333

Companion piece to Paris - Your entire world changes when you meet Terry Silver on your birthday. 

The sun is beginning to fade in the distance, the orange rays shimmering over the Seine as you stand alongside Terry on the Pont des Arts examining the names on the padlocks.

“Do you think they made it?” You ask him as your thumb trails a rusted one. It’s been here a long time, the names are so faded you can barely make them out.

“I like to think so.” He tells as he tilts his head towards you, noticing the goosebumps on your arms. “But perhaps that’s just the romantic in me.”

“Here.” He says as he strips out of his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders. The scent of his aftershave clings to the collar, it’s an intoxicating, earthy aroma that makes you think of cool sheets and warm summer nights. What would it be like to share a bed with this man? To be the focus of his attention? Does he make love? You wonder. Or does he fuck?

It’s been over a year since you’ve taken a lover, you haven’t been with anyone since JP. There have been offers but you were never ready, not even for something casual. That man had completely obliterated you. You still find it hard to look in the mirror sometimes, to see anything beyond what he told you you were.

You forget about that with Terry, you enjoy yourself, exist in the moment. He makes you feel attractive, interesting.

When he walks you home that night, you try to return his jacket and he shakes his head, the edges of his mouth turning up into a smile.

“Tomorrow.” He says, his voice rich with promise. “You can give it back to me when you see me tomorrow.”

Love Terry S? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[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

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

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!

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you hadn't talked about it. had believed you'd never have to. but then you'd been alone in a classroom with a madman and the walls had been closing in, no hope, no escape. and then it'd screamed, LET ME OUT.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: panic attacks. eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

this one may be difficult to follow as i use omniscient POV in some instances rather than third-person. i hope i managed to make the head-hopping clear 🫶

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.18

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why did Frankenstein create the Monster?

Mr. Anderson sat behind his desk, marking that morning's pile of tests. Yours was underway, everyone's heads down, the room silent apart from the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional creak as someone shifted at their desk.

As soon as you'd received your copy, you'd read through the questions; simple enough. Determine metaphor and allegory, write about what's between the lines, not what's on the page.

This wasn't your first rodeo. You loved the practice of analyzing books, finding things the author probably hadn't meant to give deeper meaning to but had, for the sake of high school English. It was where you excelled, earned As and A-pluses, 10/10s, 99/100s.

Mrs. Boudreaux, your junior English teacher, had been the driving force behind your application to the English program at Berkeley. With her guidance, you'd applied in your final semester last year and already had the acceptance letter stashed where your mother wouldn't snoop.

You were really fucking good at English.

And yet...

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why does Frankenstein create the Monster?

You couldn't focus. Your mind kept slipping, the edges of cordoned-off memories bleeding under the tape. What you'd almost said to Simon earlier—"I'm gonna end up going after him with a—" crowbar crowbar crowbar—your stomach churned. You'd bitten the threat on your tongue and swallowed it back down before it'd had the chance to spill into the world.

Why that? Why, of all things, that? You hadn't...you'd never use...you wouldn't DO that.

"Sissy May! You're not looking! You have to look!"

A quiet, sharp inhale. Like sucking air through a straw. It wasn't enough, but you didn't want the attention. You folded over your desk to lay sideways on your arm, putting your back to the class. Pen on paper, unmoving, blue dot growing as ink seeped through the pages.

Write. Do it. Write something. Anything.

But you couldn't. Half of you was pulled in one direction while time wrenched your other half in another, fracturing in impossible countermotion. Existing forward and backward at the same time.

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why does Frankenstein create the Monster?

Your vision swam as memories wedged themselves between the seconds, left hand singeing where it was cradled in the crook of your neck and shoulder. The pain shot from the outermost knuckle up to your elbow and struck outward in Lichtenberg figures behind your ribs.

"—the Split River police are considering this a missing person investigation—he lures her to the boiler room—blood blood blood on the walls—and you chose that person to be there—you're stuck here?"

Dialogue ran into each other, warped, distorted, a record played in reverse. Mr. Hartman's speech on Monday, your conversation with Wally, Simon's despair, and private thoughts emulsified into an incoherent sludge that pulsed in your ears.

"—she's stuck she's stuck she's stuck—body could be anywhere—I know this is alarming news, but we have every hope she'll be found safely—aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

Question 1: Why does Frankenstein create the Monster?

Hesitant, careful, you tried not to draw attention as you sat up. Your left hand felt wet and when you looked down you saw tiny pinpricks of blood beading within the crevice of your scar. The pinpricks swelled into each other, more and more, scar tissue splitting up the middle and folding back. Blood gurgled out around the bone and spilled onto your desk. Drip-dropped onto the floor. Dribbled across blank test sheets.

You snatched your hand into your lap—don't look, it's not real, don't look—and clenched your eyes shut, dragging in quick, rabbitty breaths as best you could without making any noise.

"—if you know anything, anything at all, please come forward—he's hiding Maddie in there—I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry—no questions asked, remember?—get your stuff and let's go—I'm sorry I'm sorry—Sissy?"

Your eyes snapped open, immediately trained on the supply closet door. Ominous. Unbelonging. Dry, grey wood and rusted handle. You looked down at yourself, at your hand, open wound spewing a pool under your desk. Clothes and skin stained red. Hair in tacky strings that fell to your waist, much longer than it'd been when you woke up that morning.

Blood. So much. Blood.

tick. tock.

tick. tock.

"LET ME OUT!"

The rusted handle rattled furiously, wood expanding and contracting like the lungs of a nightmare. You were paralyzed in your seat, joints completely fused, unable to open your mouth and scream for help. Tears welled in your eyes, streaked down your face, as you watched the hinges loosen and the doorframe splinter around the strike plate.

"You can't keep me here! Do you hear me!? LET ME OUT!!"

Suddenly, there were hands on your face, a voice in the distance calling your name.

"Go get the nurse." Mr. Anderson instructed, spooked, standing from his desk and rushing down the aisle.

"With all due respect, sir," Xavier said over his shoulder, crouched beside you, hands staying firm on your jaw, "You do it. I'm staying with her."

He turned back to you, repeated your name, told you where you were, that you were okay, that he had you and wasn't going anywhere, shh shh it's okay, I'm right here. Until, finally, thank Christ, finally, your eyes refocused and you seemed to recognize Xavier.

"I need you to breathe for me, kiddo." He said in as soothing a tone as he could given his panic. He grabbed your left hand and put it over his heart, settled his open palm on your sternum, and inhaled deeply. "Come on, May, you can do this. You're okay."

The old nickname stung like a lash, defunct for a reason, but despite wanting to tell Xavier off, you couldn't speak. Your throat was too tight, tongue too large, fuck, you were going to die. Not there. Not in the school. Not where you'd never get out.

Not like this, you pleaded. And then, all at once, you were released, gasping and wailing, toppling out of your seat and onto the floor, into Xavier's arms. He tucked himself around you, protective, safe, and held you as you sobbed.

Outside, Wally almost doubled over, uneven contractions of pain in his chest, over and over, worse and worse. Disoriented, he held himself up on the side of the bus stop.

Rhonda was ranting at Charley about secrets, Maddie's secret—Simon could see them!—and Charley was frantically apologizing and Maddie was gone—where had she gone? It didn't matter—nothing mattered, he had to find you.

"Where are you going?!" Rhonda yelled after him as he took off toward the side door.

And all he could think of to explain his sudden departure was, "I just need some space right now!"

Right then, he didn't care if she believed him. If either of them believed him. If they followed him and found you and found him with you—he didn't fucking care.

He just had to get to you.

Mr. Anderson returned with the nurse, pale and uneasy. Xavier ignored them both as he helped you to your feet. The classroom had thankfully been on its way to empty when Xavier had noticed you'd been unresponsive. Sat stiff as a board at your desk clutching your left hand, the whites of your eyes visible as you'd stared into nothingness.

"I'm taking her home." He said, brooking no argument, holding you against him with an arm secured around your waist and you were almost out, almost away from the terror that had gripped you, but Nurse Laine had to shine a flashlight pen into your eyes first.

She asked questions that you answered with curt nods and shakes.

"Are her parents home?"

Xavier informed, "Her grandmother. I've already said I'm bringing her back." Between convulsions. Had reached into your bag to fish out your phone. Punched the code in easily and found Abigail's number in your contacts. Why the hell was it still 0-6-1-2? Why torture yourself?

It was then that Wally barreled through the closed classroom door. He looked every bit as shaken as you felt. In four long strides, he was at your side, observing Xavier with more scrutiny than he gave to the scene itself.

"I want to go home," You said, weak, wet, directed to everyone in the room, but especially to Wally. Because you couldn't talk directly to him, couldn't touch him; no matter how much you needed him to be who held you, you weren't so far gone not to recognize that that wasn't possible.

Mr. Anderson spoke as Xavier guided you to the door, "You can retake the test on Monday. It's no problem." And it was both a relief and a kick in the gut.

You couldn't look at him. At the man who had abducted Maddie, hurt her, abused her, forced her out of her body.

"Sissy?"

You wrenched forward and vomited into the garbage pail beside the door.

Mr. Anderson took a single step and you whimpered, curling into Xavier as if attempting to hide from the man. Xavier looked between you and Mr. Anderson, a dark expression of suspicion seeping into his features.

"Don't worry about it." Mr. Anderson said of the garbage pail like that's what you were scared about. Like that mattered at all. "I'll take care of it. Just get her home safely."

Xavier gritted out a thank you to Mr. Anderson on your behalf and practically carried you out of there, stopping only to peek into the hallway first to assess how to get you to the car without witnesses.

Minus a couple of students jogging to their next class a few minutes late, the hallway was empty.

Wally remained a stalwart presence at your other side, down the two flights of stairs and out the door into the parking lot.

Lead-rubber limbs caused missteps, scuffing the toes of your sneakers against the gravel. Xavier never let go, every stumble counterbalanced, patient as you found your footing again only to lose it moments later.

He bundled you into the passenger's seat—sideways against the back with your legs still outside the car—and crouched to tell you, "I'm going to grab my bike. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay."

After a hard press of his lips to your forehead, he was gone, and Wally took his place.

It felt too much like your sophomore year, Xavier swooping in to the rescue, leaving Wally in the dust. Only, this time, Wally knew you could hear him. More than that, Wally knew you'd answer when he asked:

"Baby, what happened?"

You shrugged, fragile, tired, and, "Panic attack," you said simply. "I think this whole thing with Maddie is getting to me."

Wally nodded as if he understood, but he didn't, though he so wished he did. What he'd felt, what the connection between you and he had delivered into him...if he'd been alive, the pain Wally had experienced would've killed him, he was certain of it.

Are you okay? He almost asked. Instead, he dropped to his knees and wound his arms around your waist, coaxing you forward until you tilted out of the seat and allowed Wally to take your weight. He leaned back and sunk onto his haunches so you were entirely seated in his lap, face under his chin, arms around his neck, fastened to him in a way he was beginning to prefer.

Eventually, "Something happened. Six years ago," you revealed, so quiet Wally nearly missed it.

He kissed a crown into your hairline, "You don't have to tell me, pretty girl, it's okay."

"I want to." You insisted, but Wally felt the tension in your back when you said it.

Plastering on his best smile, he craned his neck so he could see your face, practically melting as those big, marbled eyes blinked sweetly up at him. "Some other time, then, huh?" He suggested and was pleased when you agreed. A little nod and then you nuzzled yourself back into his throat with a sigh. Cute as a baby bird.

Xavier returned a few minutes later and set about preparing the car so he had enough space to deposit his bike in the trunk. Once finished, he climbed into the driver's seat and tapped you lightly on the shoulder.

"Ready to go?"

Contrary to last night, when you'd slammed back into your body at speed, you seemed to simply rouse as if from sleep. A far gentler experience that you hoped was the new norm.

"Get some rest, baby," Wally said and stood, dusting off the knees of his sweatpants. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

You answered with a smile since Xavier was watching you; refusing to start the car until you'd positioned yourself properly with your seatbelt buckled and the car door closed.

As Xavier drove out of the parking lot, the warmth of the connection between you and Wally fell away like a cloak slipping from your shoulders.

Xavier didn't hesitate to reach over the console and take your hand as if he could sense you needed the comfort. He squeezed and promised, "No questions asked."

You kept your head turned toward the window, heavy on the headrest, and squeezed back.

💀___________________________

PART SEVENTEEN

note: this chapter was written to Amber Run's I Found (TXME Remix). i have a whole soundtrack for this series that i'd like to present once October Sun is complete, but i couldn't keep this one to myself. it's so intense and perfectly captures the fracturing of Reader's mind as she sits in that classroom with her friend's possible abuser.

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if you'd like to be kept up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS, since the taglist has malfunctioned 🙈 i'm still adding ppl to it, but i can't guarantee that i'll ever use it since attempting to fix the problem is starting to destroy my sanity 💀

[ganondoodle]

I honestly find it impressive how totk managed to fuck up so bad as a sequel. But truth be told, good gameplay aside, botw already was a whole lot of nothing as far as story and lore were concerned. I just feel like amnesiac Link going out into the world to save some voice is not a good premise, even though botw Zelda has an interesting personality. Idk, I guess botw felt like an experiment that was supposed to pay off in totk, but totk being a disappointment makes botw kind of feel like a waste of time as well

yes and no to that (in my opinion .. just gonna add that to be sure)

what hooked me in botw was less the story that was told and more what was implied, bc it seemed to imply so much, there was so much design that felt intentional- like an introduction to a world with subtle hints towards much much more that would be perfect to dive deeply into in an expansion or second part- just like you said

i personally am a sucker for big environments with enviromental storytelling more than direct dialog in your face- it might be a small detail to some but for me the choice of music, or how little and broken there was really spoke to me (in part bc i am very noise sensitive, id gladly spent hours in botws hyrule field, but id want to get out of twilight princesses hyrule field bc it would get unbearable to me after a while)

but mainly .. it was the world, botw made me feel like no other game has before, it felt so real to me, that this is a world with deep history, most of which unknown, so much mystery and things that existed with no explicit explanation (like man do i love botws dragons ...... and i will not forgive what totk did to them lore wise)-- like with the ancient shiekah especially, they were, or seemed, so drenched in lore you can only guess but yet it felt so intentional, or how calamtiy ganon was this strange being like a force of nature and the gerudo having had no king in so long it was basically forgotten it was ever a thing?? so much to speculate and think about, so much you could do with all those things; you probably didnt aim to get this kind of talk from me but when i talk i talk unfortunately, and botw is my second favorite zelda game (grinding my teeth to dust trying to ignore what totk did to its lore)

if you look at just whats told to you, botw isnt that special either (though at least coherent in itself lol) but its the world and design and mystery that got to me, that i care about so much, care that got almost utterly destroyed by totk bc it made me realize that there .. might have been no intention behind anything, it didnt mean anything actually

its a thing that hurts me so much to know, to think about, that totk cannot be separated from botw, they cheapen each other, people think its just botw+extra, when imo its more like .. botw again but worse, or them saying that botw was jsut a tech demo to the grand game that is totk (i couldnt disagree more to that wtf, totk is more of a tech demo for ultrahand tbh)

i cant even decide whats worse to me, the fact that botw isnt gonna get that deep lore dive in a second part that got me so excited like i never was before after the first trailer, that everything i cared about in it isnt gonna have a follow up ever, the knowledge that there might be no intention and no meaning behind anything in their games, that the next games might be like that too, that its inseperable from totk in the worst way, or that they only damage each other, botw functions better on its own than totk does, but together it worsens both

(i basically just said what you said in long form .. sorry- though i do feel more positively about the amnesia thing in botw, theres tragedy and emotional weight in it and helps immensely to let you and link explore the world like for the first time- plus its a drawback to an otherwise pretty overpowered piece of tech/magic- unlike some other things in a certain other game)

[kyomint]

Theory: Stolas' trial

I'm going to put my theories about what will happen in Mastermind/Sinsmas in order.

At the beginning of each episode, we have a content warning. In it, we can hear a "ticking", very similar to the noise of the hands of a clock. This ticking starts in the episode "Truth Seekers" and recently some people have pointed out how the sound has decreased over the episodes. In the beginning it played during the entire warning, in "The Full Moon", it stops halfway through the warning.

Another interesting detail that we can notice in the warning is the symbol that appears in the background. This symbol is known as "Devil's Trap" and originally appears in "Solomon's Clavicle" (no, it's not from Supernatural), a grimoire with a vast collection of ancient spells, with the Devil's Trap being a spell used to immobilize and control demons.

In the LVL UP trailer, we see scenes of what appears to be a meeting between the 7 Sins and Ars Goetia. We can assume from Vassago's lines, "Where is Stolas, anyway? We have to summon him at once" that the meeting's agenda is something that Stolas is responsible for and given Vassago's stress and Andrealphus' interference, things are ugly for him.

From the trailer it is also possible to deduce that Stolas will lose his powers at some point since in the scenes below, we see that he is completely defenseless against Andrealphus, who theoretically should be less powerful, since in the hierarchy of Ars Goetia Stolas occupies position 36, while Andrealphus occupies position 65.

Okay, but what does the ticking have to do with the meeting and Stolas' powers? Simple, the ticking of the clock is marking the time until the trial of Stolas and the I.M.P.

I believe the meeting will aim to discuss Stolas' actions and whether or not he should be tried for allowing I.M.P. used his grimoire to gain illegal access to the human world.

Thanks to the group's carelessness in episode 6, the D.H.O.R.K.S. were able to obtain irrefutable proof of the existence of demons, which led the human government to finance the activities of the organization, which in a short time was able to discover a way to access hell.

Even if the D.H.O.R.K.S. aren't a threat at the moment, it's only a matter of time before they figure out a way to actually open a portal and then, yes, hell will have something to worry about.

Andrealphus and Stella, knowing about the affair between Stolas and Blitz, will take advantage of the situation to formally accuse him, convincing Ars Goetia that he and the I.M.P. they must be judged and held accountable for their actions.

As punishment for breaking the laws of Hell, Stolas loses his titles and has his powers temporarily sealed by the Devil's Trap while he awaits official trial. Meanwhile, Stella and Andrealphus take possession of Stolas' possessions, which now rightfully belong to Stella, as the divorce has not yet been made official.

In the midst of all this, Octavia's custody will also be officially passed on to Stella, who, knowing how much Stolas cares for his daughter, will prevent them from meeting, further damaging their relationship, as we see in the speech "You don't love your mother, and you don't love me, you love HIM".

Anyway, this is what I think will happen in the next episodes, I hope the text wasn't confusing, as English is not my first language. I'm looking forward to seeing how this plot unfolds, and whether or not I got anything right!

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.7 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warning: mentions of trauma, violence, abuse

See masterlist

All her life, she has been an outcast. After all, rumours spread fast when you live in a small place.

"She is cursed."

"No normal being has what she has."

"Stay away from her."

"Did you hear? She is not fae because of that."

All because of one traitor. All because she trusted the wrong 'friend' to tell and show it to.

It did not get better when the rumours reached him either.

She still has the burns on her legs from that night to prove that.

He was tying her onto the table. She was screaming, trying to fight him, pleading for whoever would listen, to come save her. No one came.

A slap across her right cheek.

"Shut your mouth! You have already embarassed me enough by having your deformity be the talk of every Illyrian camp to exist."

She was completely tied to the table. Her weak, bony, bruised arms and legs were secured to the edges with really tight and thick ropes.

"No! Let me go!"

That was when he took the heated metal, red-hot in appearance, and started to come closer to her.

He prepared for this. He was planning to do this to her all along because that iron did not get so hell-hot in a matter of seconds.

Maybe today was the day. Her end.

To her surprise, he applied it not to her chest, but to her legs. Nonstop, taking turns for each leg.

She tried. She really tried not to scream, not to give him the satisfaction of her pain but, how could she not? She was being burned for Cauldron's sake! She held out for a minute before succumbing into the pain.

She did not remember the rest because she passed out after who knows which burn.

She was 15.

So why her? Why was she the chosen one? Why should she close the gates? Was she not the cursed one? Why did The Book of Breathings send her here? What is her purpose?

So many questions. Seems like her plan to go home as soon as possible and leave them to deal with their own problems would have to be erased.

With a sigh, she looked up at the bright blue sky as she and Fenrys finally made it out of the warded area into the clearing.

Apparently, all this thinking has made her blind because the next thing she knows, y/n is colliding with a hard wall- no, muscle. She looked up to see that it was none other than Fenrys, holding her by her arms so she can balance her body once again. She was pressed to his body.

With an awkward move, she staggered back and tried to stop herself from blushing like a tomato. And from the amused smirk on Fenrys' face, she was doing a terrible job at keeping herself composed.

"I-...sorry,"

He let out a small chuckle as he came closer, "Let that be a lesson to not daydream while walking."

She scoffed and turned her face while crossing her arms, "I was NOT daydreaming."

She tried and failed to hide her sneaky smile.

He turned her around so that they were face to face as he said, "Hmmm sure, whatever you say. I can winnow us out of here now. Hopefully, this time you won't make a scene about it."

"I was NOT making a scene either, I was just- wait. Did you just say winnow? As in, the way we say it in Prythian?"

Fenrys simply shrugged before taking her hand and as the world around them began disapearing, all he said was, "Just a slip up. I will never say it again."

Y/n could not stop the smile that formed on her face.

When they arrived at the grand hall, the first thing y/n noticed was that her legs were sore after walking for so many days. Scratch that. Her whole body was sore. Sleeping on the ground does that to you. Damn those tall trees and their dense leaves, she couln't even fly! Going to bed right now and sleeping for a whole day or two did not sound like a bad plan at all.

The second thing she noticed was that Aedion's right arm was covered in bandages and hanging from a sling. How on earth did he manage to break his arm? Looks like they were not the only ones who had a tough journey.

And the third thing she noticed was a new face. Silver hair like moonlight highlighted a face so beautiful, y/n wondered if this woman was even real. Lips covered in a seductive red color that would make any being fall on their knees for her. When her eyes that were the color of burnt gold locked with y/n's gaze, the woman seemingly assesed her from head to toe. In turn, y/n did the same. She was wearing some kind of scale-embossed black, leather coat-dress with a silver chain around her torso, and a small, red fabric dangling from the chain. Her simple, black pants and knee high boots added an air of dominance to her overall look.

Was this Manon? Fenrys mentioned her name earlier but y/n was too distracted with the loud roars coming from that weird flying thing that she was almost not paying any attention.

"Shhh"

"Don't shush me!"

"This is getting a little too intense guys"

"No, it is getting exciting. Just look at the way they are coldly looking at one another! Fight, Fight, Fi-"

"Gods, Aedion stop that! Are you a child?!"

Y/n was pulled out of her haze as she looked around the room to see everyone looking between her and Manon. Apparently, they were too intense with their assessment of one another.

Manon, seemingly unfazed, just kept on staring at her face with cool indifference. So, y/n did the same. She was not about to look scared in front of this woman.

Aelin, clearly seeing the tension, came forward while clearing her throat.

"Y/n, this is Manon. Manon Blackbeak. She is The Queen of Witches and our bestest friend." she said jokingly as she tried side-hugging Manon, to which the woman scoffed and removed her arm while smirking slightly.

So she was a witch. The Queen of Witches. Oh, Nesta would have loved her.

"Manon dearest, this is the one and only Y/n. Anddd I would be glad if you could stop giving her death stares now. You too, y/n."

Y/n held her ground under Manon's penetrating gaze, refusing to be the first to look away. She could sense the power and confidence radiating from the Queen of Witches, and while it intimidated her, it also intrigued her.

"Manon Blackbeak," Y/n echoed, her voice steady despite the tension in the room. "I've heard a lot about you."

Manon raised an eyebrow, her smirk fading slightly as she regarded Y/n with a calculating gaze.

"Have you now?" she replied, her tone neutral yet tinged with curiosity.

Aelin interjected with a nervous laugh, attempting to lighten the atmosphere. "Yes, Y/n, Manon here is not just the Queen of Witches but also quite the force to be reckoned with."

Manon's lips quirked in amusement at Aelin's attempt at diplomacy, but she remained silent, her eyes still fixed on Y/n.

Y/n took a breath, deciding to address the tension head-on. "Look, I don't know what your impression of me is, but I'm here to help," she stated firmly, meeting Manon's gaze with determination. "Whatever it takes to close those gates and protect our worlds....aaaanddd finally get me to MY world."

Manon's expression softened for a quick second, a hint of respect gleaming in her eyes. "Words are easy." she remarked cryptically, her voice low but carrying an undertone of acknowledgment.

Rowan cleared his throat, attempting to diffuse the palpable atmosphere. "Yes, well, we're all on the same side here," he said diplomatically, giving a pointed look to both Y/n and Manon. "Let's focus on why we're all gathered. There's a lot at stake."

Manon's gaze lingered on Y/n for a moment longer before she finally broke the stare, her expression unreadable. "Agreed" she said simply, her voice carrying a tone of authority that resonated through the room.

Lysandra got up to her feet "Very well then! Who wants to go first?"

The second she saw Lorcan open his mouth, Lysandra put up her hand as she said, "Nevermind, we will go first."

There were a few chuckles and a full on cruel smirk from Manon directed right at the angry giant.

The green eyed female turned towards her husband and Elide as she said, "Dearest crew mates, shall we begin?"

Aedion was about to say something when she also shut him up "Do not. I am still pissed at you for what you did. Elide, sweetheart, will you do the honors?"

Aedion rolled his eyes as he scoffed and grumbled something under his breath which made Eva let out a wide eyed laugh.

Elide sat on one of the chairs surrounding the large table and sighed "Well, as much as Lysandra just added dramatics and made it seem like we discovered something beyond shocking, we only managed to find one thing that could help us."

"Hey! We needed to add some dramatics to make it seem bigger than it is. Or else they will be disappointed that we don't come with much information. I guess it is all ruined now anyway." Lysandra finished before jokingly sticking her tounge out at Elide.

"If I may-"

"No you may not Aedion."

"Lysandra, please, starlight."

"Fine! Do whatever you want. It is not like I was able to stop you before!"

Y/n, feeling the tension between them, murmured to the blond queen beside her, "What happened with those two?"

Aelin simply sighed and shook her head "If only we knew."

Aedion cleared his throat before adressing the room, "So, after a two day journey JUST to reach the Sanctuary, we were able to acquire a meeting with the head monk. Thanks to Elide's lovely acting and sweet talking. Once we met with the wrinkly, bony, ghost-"

"He was not that at all! Yes, he was quite ancient but so sweet! He even gave us sweet drinks." Elide said before casting a glare at the blond warrior.

Aedion continued, "Yes. Well, he was only sweet to you. I still did not get over the fact that he called my wife a half-beastie."

Lysandra scoffed "You should have let me deal with him on my own! There was no need to cause that fight!"

At that, Aelin interjected "What fight? What on earth are you talking about?"

Lysandra pointed a finger at Aedion before looking at her queen "Did you know, your cousin-"

"What is wrong with protecting my wife-"

"ENOUGH!"

To everyone's absolute shock, it was Elide who shouted that word and got up from her chair, striding to the center of the room with a determined look on her face.

"Look, we went, I charmed the old folks, they allowed us to go through their manuscripts and ancient whatever else. Of course, even my smooth-talk had its limits because we did not get a full access and there were monks and sages looking over our shoulders at any point."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "So, what we managed to find was that the gates are indeed weakened. Apparently, the barriers between realms are awakening. And guess what? The Valg are exploiting these vulnerabilities to gain access to not just our world, but to any world possible."

She then looked pointedly at Aedion and Lysandra "There was this one specific manuscript. Its cover looked very promising I was just about to take it and quickly go through it but..."

Rowan crossed his arms as he urged, "But...what?"

She sighed before looking at no one in particular "But, a specific shifter and a specific warrior ruined it all."

"Wait what-"

"I ruined nothing-"

"Why me-"

Manon's voice cut through the growing commotion, "You fought with a monk because he called Lysandra a half-beastie?"

Aedion got up to his feet, although y/n did see how he hissed a little due to the condition of his arm.

"No. I was beyond mad when the monk said that in the beginning of our little visit of course, but Lysandra somehow managed to calm me. It was not until these two were searching for information and I was in the hall, looking through the window. That cranky old bastard once again came near me and....and fucking dared to not only insult MY wife again, but also MY queen. Saying things how, 'now she remembers them', that Aelin is a 'spoiled brat' and whatever not. I could not take it no more."

Utter silence was in the room as y/n, seeing the state he got into, carefully asked, "And how exactly did you break your arm?"

He sighed before plopping down on the couch and looking her fiercely in the eyes. "The bastard managed to push me quite forcefully with his magic into a wall. I beat him up in the end of course, but he still managed to win this one from me." He paused as he pointed to his arm before looking at his wife and then, cousin "But I would do it all again if it meant that I could rip his head out this time. The females of my household will never be disrespected."

Rowan came forward and put his hand on Aedion's shoulder, a sign of respect and gratitude for protecting his mate's honor.

Aelin also came forward and sat next to her cousin, put her hand on his right shoulder, before continuing, "You should be more careful next time. I am grateful nonetheless cousin. Hopefully, those bony bastards will know their place from now on."

Before anyone could say anything, she cleared her throat and looked at her mate and Lorcan, "What about you two?"

The two warriors exchanged a look before Lorcan said in a voice so...not agressive or angry that y/n thought she must be hallucinating.

"Anyone who is standing might want to sit down for this one."

Rowan looked at his companion before nodding and then gazing at everyone else in the room.

"When we went to The Riftgate Ruins....while we were studying them, trying to understand anything about what was on them, we noticed that there were recent disturbances or traces of Valg magic that indicate current activity."

Lorcan came forward and continued the story on his brothers behalf, "Since I am, after all, the best and most skilled tracker that there is,"

Y/n nearly felt her eyeballs hit the back of her head because of how hard she was rolling them.

"Detecting Valg magic that leaves distinct residues and traces was not hard. Rowan and I found lingering traces of Valg essence or dark magic around the ruins, which clearly suggests recent Valg activity."

Y/n felt the room physically grow cold as the uncomfortable silence stretched on and on. Is it possible then? Are Valgs back?

Chaol, who was apparently standing by the doorway and listening, asked "But how? We killed them all during the war. Erawan is dead. Shouldn't their connection be severed?"

No one answered him. No one could answer him because no one had an answer to give.

Aelin, fear and determination evident in her gaze, said, "What if they are not all dead? But how would that be? Were they not connected to Erawan?"

Manon sighed before turning her head towards Chaol, "Yrene. Did she find something yet?"

Chaol came into the light and oh Mother above...did he even sleep? His hair was completely dishelved, there were bags under his eyes and why in the seven hells was he limping?

He said in a tired voice, "She is getting close. The language is clearly something she has never seen before so she is giving it her all. Give her some more time."

It was Lysandra who asked, "She won't let anyone into the room, is she atleast well? eating? sleeping? taking care?"

"Of course. My wife is my number one priority. I make sure that she is well."

Fenrys, who had not spoken until now, came closer and put a hand on the brown haired man as he said, "You need rest as well. We will take care of Yrene in whatever she needs. Do not forget what happens when one of you is not well. It affects the other."

What? Y/n made a mental note to ask Aelin on what on earth that meant.

Chaol nodded and got up as he said, "Yes, I will. For her well-being, I will. Just came to give you all the latest news. And apparently got shocking news in turn as well," a look directed at Rowan and Lorcan.

Aelin sighed, "Just go rest. You gave up much of your energy. You both did. We got it for now."

Once Chaol was gone, the queen looked at Eva, smiled sadly and said, "Thanks to Eva's precise book spotting and my exceptional page skimming skills, we managed to quickly find some interesting facts. The Book of Breathings contains ancient spells capable of containing the Valg. In fact, it has a specific text dedicated to sealing them. If this is true, it could only mean one thing, the Valgs already existed when that book was created."

It was Eva who came closer to y/n and looked up at her "But isn't that book in your world? How can we get it into this world?"

Y/n had no idea on what to say apart from, "The book was created using the last of the molten ore used to forge the Cauldron, I thought it only contained spells to control the Cauldron's powers. But if there is a specific area in it that is dedicated to the Valgs then it could mean that when it was created, the Vags attempted to endanger my world as well."

Lysandra put her face in her palms and muttered "This is getting worse by the minute."

Elide sighed as she turned her head towards Fenrys and said, "Please tell me you two atleast found something less....depressive."

Right. Y/n and Fenrys also had to tell about their findings. Great.

It wasn't until Fenrys came and stood near her that y/n realized how her heart was about to rip out of her chest. She was anxious and uncomfortable just by talking about what they found out.

All of a sudden, she felt this overwhelming amount of calm and soothing overtake her body. She turned her head to her right to see him standing right next to her now. She would never say it out loud but, y/n was glad that Fenrys was beside her during this revelation.

He seemingly understood her state because he cast her a quick glance before beginning to talk about their 'lovely' little journey.

Fenrys looked at everyone in the room as he recounted the events, from the appearence of the otherworldly seers to the revelations thrown upon them. Once he was done, the room went through another intensely extended period of silence as everyone processed his words.

Aelin had pure shock on her face while Rowan was just staring at the wall, his gaze unfocused, Lysandra tilted her head backwards and closed her eyes, Aedion stared at the ground, unmoving, Elide gasped before putting her hand on her mouth and looking at no one in particular, Lorcan had a frustrated look on his face directed at Fenrys, Eva was just looking up at y/n with wide eyes and Manon....well she was harder to understand but from the slight furrow in her brows y/n guessed that she was still analyzing Fenrys' words.

Y/n cleared her throat and came a little forward "Well, it seems like I can not go home until we solve your problem."

Aedion, still staring at the ground, replied "It may also become your world's problem if we do not put an end to this quickly."

Before y/n could reply, Rowan said to no one in particular "We need a properly constructed plan" before seemingly coming back from his haze and immediately leaving the room followed by a confused yet determined Lorcan.

Y/n saw how everyone, especially Aelin was still processing the information so, she said with a sigh, "I am going to rest. I do not think my mind is able to form any coherent thoughts right now." without looking back or waiting for an answer, she turned around and ascended the grand stairs.

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes was all the time she could sleep for- or atleast force herself to sleep for. Her body was begging her earlier for some good sleep and food but now, as she lay in bed, she was neither hungry nor sleepy. After staring at the ceiling for the past thirty minutes, y/n huffed before getting up and going to change into a more comfortable attire.

Once she discarded her turtleneck, y/n gently touched her throat, pleasantly surprised by how effective Isolde's salve had been on her injury. The mark that had once marred her skin was now barely noticeable, a testament to the healing properties of the salve. With a contented sigh, she planned to apply it once more later, confident that it would soon vanish completely.

Choosing a clean white turtleneck from her wardrobe, y/n slipped it on, followed by dark brown pants and boots.

Once she was ready, y/n stepped onto the balcony, the serene evening view stretching out before her. With a deep breath, she leapt into the air, feeling weightless and free as she soared above the grounds, her mind momentarily liberated from the concern's coming their way. Where she was going, y/n neither had no idea nor did she care as her wings flapped and she felt a sense of happiness and relaxation fall over her.

Fenrys was tired. Exhausted even. There was so much happening that he could barely keep up. He trusted Rowan to make a proper action plan without his help because if he had to stand for another minute, he would end up falling asleep and kissing the ground.

But, after what happened between him and y/n in the woods, Fenrys also had another question bugging his mind. Who hurt her?

He knew that he shouldn't care. That she meant absolutely nothing to him and therefore, he should let her handle her own problems. In fact, he should be delighted that someone caused her discomfort here, made her realize she is not safe in this world. It should have brought him great satisfaction when he pictured her scared face.

But all it brought to him was an overflow of anger and violence. Something within him forced Fenrys to turn violent whenever he thought of her in danger. He will find whoever caused her that mark. And when he does....let the nonexistent Gods have mercy on them because Fenrys for sure won't.

But first, sleep. Just as he was walking the halls to get to his room, he saw her, flying high in the sky, looking so ethereal-

No. Don't be stupid.

He ignored her, continuing on his path. Just go to your room and rest Fenrys. Yes. You don't need to care for her. Or follow her.

5 minutes later, he was outside getting ready to shift into a wolf and....follow her. Whatever this feeling within him was, it was as if he was being tugged or pulled to go wherever she goes.

In his defense, Fenrys tried to reason with himself that he was doing this for safety. What if she was a spy? Maybe she was going somewhere to meet with her accomplice? He was doing it for his queen. For his country. For his family.

But even as Fenrys shifted and began his way into the woods, he knew what a lie it was. He has no reason to still see her as a suspect because even the seers confirmed her innocence. And value to the book apparently.

After what seemed like twenty minutes, he found her, sitting on a medium sized boulder, overlooking the grassy views of Orynth.

He slowly approached her. Like a beast sizing its prey. If he jumped her now, she wouldn't even have time to react before he ripped her throat. But for some reason, even thinking of such a scenario left a sour taste in his mouth.

Apparently she knew he was here because without even turning around, her honey-like voice said, "Seems like you have this severe obsession with hunting and catching me."

She knew it was him without even having to look back. It made no sense how she would always recognize Fenrys out of a thousand others. So, as the giant white wolf shifted beside her into the familiar male, y/n felt a mixture of excitement and curiosity. The transformation from wolf to man was seamless, a testament to Fenrys' mastery over his shapeshifting abilities.

He wordlessly came and sat beside her on the boulder, leaving a respectful distance between them even though just last night they slept in each others arms. It looks like he won't bring that conversation up anytime soon. She won't either.

So, y/n, still not looking at the male beside her, asked, "Where do your people live? Looks like the forests here are very large."

Fenrys who was apparently also preferring to look towards the view instead of her, replied, "These are the palace grounds. I know, they are quite big but the people live just outside this forest. There are towns and villages. Aelin's subjects love her very much."

Y/n smiled a little "Seems like she is a good queen then."

At that, Fenrys also smiled "Yes. The best."

After a minute of silence, he asked "How....how is your life back in your world?"

To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. Fenrys was asking her a question and not throwing another snark remark? Was he being civil with her right now? It surely must be raining rocks.

He should not have asked her this. What even made him ask her this? Why are you entertaining the idea of her? Get up and leave. Now.

But he did not move. Not even a single inch as he watched her turn her head and look at him for the first time since he arrived here. And....what a sight for sore eyes she was.

The sunset was casting a natural glow over her features as she angled her head towards him and those kissable lips began moving- enough.

"My life....well I have um....gone through many different moments in my life- well, I can tell you about my years serving in the Night Court?"

Why was she hesitating to talk about her life? Some uneasy feeling settled over him but he ignored it as he nodded his head slightly, urging for her to continue.

Y/n took a deep breath before looking back at the view "When I met my High Lord, I was a trainer-of sorts for my own academy. Anyways, he and I had some...common beliefs regarding well-"

"Regarding?"

She sighed "Illyrians. Females like me, coming from the Illyrian mountains. That place is....not a kind one. Towards females, I mean. The males there are so traditional, sticking to the old rules where the only job of a female was to cook, clean and work as some kind of a breeding machine. There is this tradition that when we become old enough...female wings should be clipped."

He felt nauseous. How could a place like that exist? How could- wait. Did that mean..."Did they treat you like that? Did they try to clip your wings too?" even saying these words made him see red.

She was clearly uncomfortable now. Her face suddenly became shiny with a thin layer of sweat as she started fiddling with her fingers and looking everywhere but at him.

Something is wrong.

"Y/n-"

"Velaris is a very beautiful place to live in. Rhysand, my ex High Lord, and his ancestors kept that city a secret for a long time. Protecting it from our enemies."

She was avoiding him but it was alright, he would not press on the matter. After all, he would also avoid it if she were to ask him about his past. About what Maeve would force him to do, about his years as her slave- No. Don't go there. Just listen to her soothing voice.

Why was she even telling him these things? Apparently she was greatly missing home and needed someone to vent to.

"Rhysand introduced me to his family who later on also became my family. Cas or well...Cassian, Amren, Mor and...Az."

She felt him slightly stiffen beside her as he asked, "Who?"

Y/n cleared her throat "Azriel. He um...he-I....we were....acquinted."

She saw Fenrys put his arms on his legs and clench his hands slightly as he asked, "Mate?"

Her heart sank. She hates that word. Despises it. Especially the memories it brings up about Azriel.

Clearly, her frustration got the best of her because she snapped, "Not a mate."

Did his shoulders just relax? Why was he mad at her?

"Then...what?"

With a sigh, she tilted her head backwards and looked at the sky "We...we were lovers. 52 years. We were happy and in love or atleast I thought that but clearly I was wrong because this whole time he took me for a fool and played with my feelings."

She was on her feet now, pacing around, fuming to herself "I was such a fool, you know. I thought we were mates, that the bond would snap at any moment. That we were destined to be together. In the end, he found his mate, cheated on me with her for two whole fucking years, confessed how he never loved me, how he only saw me as a placeholder for her, and how my so called 'family' knew of this the whole fucking time!"

She saw nothing, her heart was racing, her vision blurry as she continued, "Feyre, long story short, she was a human once then became a high fae. When Rhys first introduced her to us, I was the one who constantly kept her company, I was the one who ensured her well-being, her proper transition to her new life. I taught her how to improve her shooting skills before the war against Hybern. I was loyal to my High Lady. I would follow her to the ends of the earth."

She let out a cruel, mocking laugh before continuing, "Then came Nesta and Elain. Feyre's two sisters. The King of Hybern threw them inside the Cauldron and turned them into high fae against their own will! And guess what? It was me again who took care of both of them. Especially Nesta because she was so misunderstood. I was the one who stood by her side through thick and thin. I was the one to join her little training session's as a sign of support. That was where I met Gwyn. The cause for my downfall. I was the one who talked sense into Cassian about being a proper mate towards Nesta. I-"

Her words were stuck in her throat. She wanted to cry. No. She won't.

"I...trusted them Fenrys. All of them. Mor and Amren, they were like sisters to me. We fought back to back on battlefields together for Cauldron's sake!"

She suddenly turned around and looked at him but did not see anything as her memories took over her "Do you know what I was doing right before I came here? I found out that the male whom I loved for so long was unfaithful to me for 2 years! 2 years, can you imagine?! And everyone fucking knew. Everyone. I was there for them when they were at their lowest but no one ever was there for me when I started descending into darkness all because Azriel was a little coward! But I was an idiot. Of course they would defend him. Protect him."

It felt good. So good to finally let your emotions out. To let your anger out.

But she could not breathe. She fell on her knees. Her mind was being bombarded with memories, her vision was getting more and more blurry, she was-

Y/n suddenly felt her body being pressed to a solid chest. She looked up to see Fenrys on the ground, holding her tightly to him while a mixture of anger, concern, frustration and pain was written all over his face.

His hands gently smoothed her hair as she laid her head on his chest, hearing his beating heart, "Shhhh, calm down now princess. It is in the past now."

She pressed her face further into his clothing as she murmured, "That doesn't make it any less hurtful."

She felt him sigh, "No, it doesn't."

His voice was so distant now. Y/n moved her head away from his chest to take a better look at his face and...yes he was definitely somewhere far off now, staring into the sunset with a mournful expression.

She quietly asked "What about you? What is your story Fenrys?"

He slowly looked back at her "It is a long one."

Her hand moved before she could even think, finding its place on his cheek. A look of surprise passed over his features as his gaze landed on hers. She smiled slightly, "I am willing to listen."

He gave a weak smile back, "You didn't tell me your full story now, did you?"

She sighed and looked down while closing her eyes, "No. I did not."

The next thing she knew, he put his thumb on her chin, followed by his index finger under her chin, and lifted her head up.

They were so close now, his breath was hitting her face. She could count the freckles on his face. Oh how otherworldy beautiful this male was.

Fenrys' gaze fell onto her lips as he quietly said, "Then we shall talk of our lives some other time."

She gave him a slight nod. Did she? y/n could not even remember because her gaze was locked on his as they started inching closer and closer, their lips about to-

A loud rumble shook the whole place as they were both ripped back from their haze and immediately got up.

Y/n turned around quickly so that he wouldn't see her embarassingly red blush that was beggining to form on her face.

"I-um...thank you...for letting me talk my nonsense."

She felt his hand on her arms as Fenrys turned her around. He had a very serious look on his face as he said, "Do not apologize. You did not talk 'nonsense' you let your feelings out."

Before y/n could reply, there was that loud growl again. Fenrys chuckled "Seems like Abraxos is not happy right now."

Right. Abraxos. That giant beast thing.

"I don't understand how you guys have such giant beast thingies-"

Fenrys let out a full laugh at that and for some reason, y/n wanted to engrave that sound in her memory for ever. Because he is always an arrogant prick who does not know what fun means, she kept telling herself.

"Wyverns, they are called Wyverns. Did you see him yet?"

"What?! No, of course not."

"Then let's go."

"Fenrys wai-"

But Fenrys took her hand and they were gone. The next thing she knew, she was in the middle of the palace grounds and there was this large beast thingie- Wyvern in front of her.

Manon was also here together with Eva and Lysandra as the young girl tried petting it.

As they got closer, she could hear Manon saying, "How many times have I told you to not eat the flowers in the royal gardens?! Just eat the flowers here, you know Aelin and how pissed she gets about her sweet little royal flowers, just avoid me the headache and eat the flowers on this side of the land, you stubborn brute!"

Abraxos only snarled back as Eva and Lysandra laughed loudly.

Eva was the first one to notice them as she ran towards y/n and took her hand, dragging her towards Abraxos.

"Y/n! meet Abraxos, he may look scary but he is the sweetest little creature everrr!"

As she came near it, y/n let out a little uncomfortable chuckle, "Doesn't really seem like a sweet little innocent creature to me."

Lysandra put her hand on y/n's shoulder and smirked "Well, he is the weirdest that's for sure. Unlike other Wyverns who eat humans and whatever living being they can get their teeth on, this fellow over here eats...flowers."

She heard Fenrys chuckle behind her as Manon scoffed.

Before anyone could say anything, Abraxos moved towards her with surprising gentleness, his massive wings folded back in a display of docility. His scales shimmered in the final few rays of light coming from the sunset, reflecting hues of deep blues and black that glinted like polished gemstones.

Y/n stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether to retreat or stand her ground. Abraxos approached cautiously, his large eyes fixed on her with an almost curious gaze. She could feel the warmth of his breath as he sniffed the air around her, his demeanor unexpectedly gentle despite his imposing size.

Eva beamed beside her, her enthusiasm undimmed. "See? He likes you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with delight.

Y/N managed a nervous smile, tentatively reaching out a hand to stroke Abraxos' scaled muzzle. To her surprise, he leaned into her touch, emitting a low rumble that sounded almost like contentment.

"He's... actually quite sweet," y/n admitted, her initial apprehension melting away in the presence of the gentle giant before her.

Manon crossed her arms, a begrudging smile playing on her lips. "Don't let him fool you," she warned, though her tone held a hint of fondness. "He's a soft spot for anyone who shows him kindness."

Lysandra chuckled softly. "Well, you've won him over, y/n. Not many can claim that honor."

Fenrys stepped forward, his usual guarded expression softening as he watched the scene unfold. "Abraxos has a way of surprising us all," he remarked, a note of respect in his voice.

She felt the world around them fade away as if it was just her and this beast who was starting to warm its way to her heart. How is this even possible?

A servant came running towards them as she said, "Dinner is ready your majesty and....ladies and...lord Fenrys...." The poor girl squeled and ran away the second Abraxos moved and everyone let out a chuckle, especially Fenrys who said while shaking his head, "Still can't understand why they don't call me by my name when I am not even a lord."

Lysandra and Eva began going towards the palace as the former said while still smiling, "Well it sure is hilarious to watch them stumble over their words when they are in your presence."

Fenrys smirked and moved towards the palace but stopped when he saw y/n still petting Abraxos.

"Aren't you coming?"

"You go. I will join you in a minute."

He smiled slightly but turned around and walked after Lysandra and Eva.

"You know that Eva has a crush on you right?"

Y/n was startled by Manon's voice. She was leaning against her Wyvern's side, arms crossed, watching y/n like a hawk. Seems like The Queen of Witches also hadn't left yet.

"What? No, of course she doesn't"

Manon looked towards the palace as she said, "The girl literally has hearts in her eyes whenever she looks at you. Clings to you like a koala bear. Besides, I heard her telling Lysandra how she can't wait to grow up and confess her 'undying love' for you. Poor child."

The silver haired witch looked back at her. Y/n let out a laugh that was soon joined by a small smirk on Manon's face.

"Well then, I guess I will have to wait for the next 5 years for her to come of age and confess her love to me. Pity that I am over a hundred years older than her." y/n said jokingly while still chuckling.

Suddenly, she let out a low hiss as her hand got pricked by one of the sharp, small scales on Abraxos, causing her blood to trickle down her palm.

No, not here. Please. Not now.

She had to hide her curse. Her lifelong secret. Her lifelong doom.

Manon can not see-

A gasp came from beside her as The Queen of Witches took her hand and inspected it. After what felt like an eternity, Manon raised her head, eyes slightly widened as she said,

"Your blood is blue. You are an Ironteeth Witch."

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

A/n: Sooo y/n's secret is out now. Wonder what will happen next;)) Thank you all for reading!

Taglist: @ladespedidas @mis-lil-red @going-through-shit @kaitttttttt @blackgirlmagicforever

@acotar-writing @paleidiot @snoopyspace @stained-glass-eyes0708 @saltedcoffeescotch

@wallacewillow0773638 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @crazylokonugget @bunnyredgirl

@fullmoon-94 @thecraziestcrayon @idkwahr

[dangerousduckcloud]

Flowerbeds make up for a nice eternal rest

My first DC fanfic! More specifically a Jason Todd fic. (Jason Todd/Reader)

English is not my first language! So if there's any mistake please be kind and let me know.

You can also find it in AO3.

Chapter 2

You’ve always wondered what it would be like to live inside the stories that you read on books and see on TV, what it would be like to be a medieval princess, a pirate exploring all seas, the girlfriend of a certain vigilante/crime lord that has you reading fanfiction after fanfiction about him. But what happens when one day you wake up in an unknown city, in an unknown cave filled with bats and a kid with a domino mask looking intently at you?

You’ve always wondered what it would be like to live inside the stories that you read on books and see on TV, what it would be like to be a medieval princess, a pirate exploring all seas, the girlfriend of a certain vigilante/crime lord that has you reading fanfiction after fanfiction about him.

Naturally, no matter how much you daydream about those worlds, you always come back to your nice, calm, but sometimes monotonous life.

Many wouldn’t consider a hotel receptionist would make an exciting job, let alone a prestigious one, but you like it. Love it, even, as you’ve had the opportunity to meet a vast array of people from all over the world, some even sharing their life’s stories, as well as leaving you enough time to work on your hobbies.

Of course, you’ve also had to deal with the typical Karens and Darrens that like to create problem after problem all because they never bother to utilize their brains for a second, let alone develop any level of reading comprehension. ‘What do you mean I can’t go swimming? Yes, I read the sign that says the pool’s closed today, but I want to swim’, or ‘Yes, I’m not an idiot, I know the door says breakfast is from seven to ten, but I always eat breakfast at twelve’ or your favorite ‘What do you mean I have to pay for the table that almost killed my children? Well, yes, I know they were jumping on top of it but it’s a serious hazard to have such cheap furniture! An accident waiting to happen!”

Even though at that moment it’s stressful and tiring dealing with them, at the end of the day they added to the list of stories you couldn’t wait to share with your friends every time you met up.

Today however, was a slow day, the constant, heavy downpour in the city making everyone reach their rooms as soon as possible to change their dripping-wet clothes into something warm and comfortable.

“D’you think it’ll stop soon?”

“The rain? Yeah, seems like it.” Joan, your coworker, replied, not looking up from her phone. “It’s not as heavy as it was an hour ago.”

You hoped she was correct, as your shift was about to end and you didn’t want to deal with the headache that it was not only to get a cab in this weather, but one that wouldn’t charge you 200% more than usual.

“So, what are your plans for the weekend?” Joan asked, resting her charging phone on the desk and turning towards you. “Anything exciting? Any dates?” At her last question, she raised her eyebrows consecutively, drawing a chuckle out of you.

“If only.” You snort. “I haven’t had any luck, not even on dating apps. People nowadays just want sex. Quick, done and gone. I’m not saying it’s not nice, but I want something… Real. Someone that can even make grocery shopping exciting, not just a face that I’ll forget in a few weeks.”

“So, you want someone that does not exist, got it.”

Laughing, you gently push her shoulder with your hand, the wheeled chair desk sending her a few centimeters away.

“They do exist.”

“Sure, but just in those stories you read.”

With a pout, you began thinking about the newest fanfiction you’d discovered last night and started binge-reading it, with 56 chapters, and you were already on chapter 39.

A sudden flush crept across your cheeks, embarrassment at being 22 and spending your weekends reading some silly fanfiction instead of going out to have some drinks.

But who could blame you? Whoever SuperWomBat_89 was, they sure were blessed with the writing of an angel, every single word so carefully chosen to convey the poetry their writing was, a story so romantic and profound that had you shedding a lonely tear at remembering people like Jason Todd — your newest hyperfixation —, did not exist.

Besides, it was way better than doing drugs, or kicking old ladies. Or doing drugs while kicking old ladies.

Not to mention, everyone enjoyed their limited time on earth in different ways, remembering that just because you didn’t enjoy the common pastime of your peers didn’t make you a weirdo or a failure.

No matter how many times some of your classmates called you that.

When you stopped disassociating, you took a glance at your phone, the time reading five minutes to six. Standing up from your chair, your eyes examined the weather outside through the glass doors, glad the storm had turned into a light drizzle, nothing your umbrella wouldn’t protect you from.

Bidding goodbye at Joan, you made your way towards the staff room, using the private bathroom to change into something more comfortable to walk home; pants, an oversized sweater and sneakers, walking out the back door.

Usually, you would put on your headphones for your fifteen-minute walk home, but as luck would have it, you’d forgotten to charge them, and not wanting to bother the other pedestrians walking home, you opted for not putting music on the phone speakers, no matter how low the volume was, making you more cognizant of the world around you.

Now, normally you wouldn’t call yourself an idiot. You considered yourself to be quite smart, honestly. Even if most of your actions didn’t seem like it. But you were, promise.

But when a strange light without a seemingly clear source brightened up a whole alleyway, you couldn’t help but get curious and walk towards it, a young, distorted voice coming up from somewhere around it.

“I knew it would work.” The voice said with glee. “B will… This technology…”

You couldn’t make up the rest of the sentence, the sound becoming too warped up for you to understand it. Was this some kind of magic illusion? A hidden camera? But looking all around, you couldn’t spot anything that resembled one, or something that would look out of place in an alley like this.

If someone were to ask you what possessed you to touch the light, you wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer, not even knowing it yourself. But you did it, feeling a warm, tingling sensation traverse your body until everything around you became engulfed in the bright light, including you.

[smokeys-house]

Normally I wouldn't address something this trivial but it's a take I keep seeing pop up in the moomin fandom by non moomin fans and it's annoying me. I don't even ship snufmin but periodic reminder that

1. Snufkin and moomin are around the same age. This confusion pops up a lot since the English VA for the 90s series is John Chancer and moomintroll's VA sounds like a child, but no explicit ages are ever given to any of the characters for the intention of whimsy and easy of story telling. This is intentional. The gap between their ages has always been that the children are younger than the "adult" characters, and old enough for whatever adventure is planned for them, and that Moomintroll and snufkin are close enough in age to share a room. Any idea that one is older than the other at all would be speculative at best and fanon at worst.

2. Snufkin is not a human, and a relationship between two fantasy species does not at all mirror the very real crime of animal abuse (I can't believe I have to say that, did you people have a problem with beauty and the beast, too? Lmao)

3. Snufkin was made to resemble or mirror Tove's at the time partner Atos Wirtanen, and Moomintroll represented herself at the time as well. She's said as much in interviews. While this doesn't mean "O: snufmin canon!" It also means you cannot discredit the fact that their dynamic was predicated on an existing romantic relationship.

4. Whether you ship it or not or even find the ship annoying, you can't discredit facts. You're allowed to just not like something. But I'd also remind you that nobody wants to hear about how much you hate what they like. Live and let live, there is 0 harm occurring in either circumstance regarding this situation. It is simply not that serious

5. This is specifically addressed to the person who annoyed me who I blocked but the English translations really do not lose or gain much compared to the original versions. The stories don't change just because it's in another language. I'm sorry you hate that a beloved series of stories was adapted to animation and translated so that the world could love these stories, too, but part of cherishing something is not squeezing it so tight that you crush it. You simply must face that people are going to enjoy things differently to you. It is not blasphemy. The moomins are not some sacred holy text, you can literally buy chewing gum with moomins face on it lmao

Like I said I don't really ship it. I don't see it. But it's not something I'm going to bother others about and dwell on. It's not out of character. There's no real reason for you to bash so hard on it outside of just generally disliking it. There's not a moral high ground to take with it, unless you just hate gay people I guess lol I get that the infatuation with snufmin and the way some folks strip them down to barebones just to have an mlm ship can suck, but that's literally all fan content. Any fandom has this. Relaaaaxxxxx

[theweirwoodfiles]

The Weirwood Files: Rhaewin (Rhaenyra x Harwin)

Subject: A defense of Harwin Strong and an analysis of his relationship with Rhaenyra.

I want my first real post to be a deep dive into the beautiful relationship that is Rhaenyra x Harwin, a relationship that team green considers shameful, while team black (mostly staunch daemyras), finds it shallow and boring. I believe both interpretations are incorrect, as even with their limited screen time together, Emma and Ryan managed to tell a beautiful love story, even in just the way they looked at one another. With a single look, so much was said without a word being spoken. 

One thing that Rhaewin has begun to get criticism for lately, is the idea that Harwin is no better than any other man in Rhaenyra’s life, that he too has groomed and taken advantage of her, that perhaps he is no “saint” as he seems to be treated by the fandom. 

The truth is, there is nothing within the canon to suggest this. The first moment we get between them is when we see Harwin giving Rhaenyra an encouraging look after she returns from killing the boar. Nothing here implies he is lusting after her. Instead, Harwin merely just stands out as being the only one at the hunt to look at her with admiration while everyone stares in confusion or judgment. 

The next two scenes we are given of them also definitely don’t have any hint of predatory behavior from Harwin. He runs into her after she snuck out with Daemon and presumably decides to keep her secret, and the one after that he carries her away out of the chaos during her wedding after being given permission by his father, the hand. 

There is no canon evidence to support Harwin groomed her. Grooming implies a pattern of behavior over time that we do not see from Harwin. He and Rhaenyra have no pre existing relationship before they conceive Jace, Harwin does not even put himself forward for her hand during her marriage tour. Harwin does not commit any predatory actions towards Rhaenyra. 

This quote by Sara Hess is the closest we have to an official canonical description of Harwin, and while granted, Hess has said her fair share of questionable things in the past, there is nothing in the canon that disputes what she said. 

“He’s one of the more unambiguous characters, he’s just a good dude. You don’t see him off doing morally questionable things, which almost everybody else is doing. They’re so flawed and human and messy. He was able to be a paragon of decency and generosity and handsome strength. He’s one of the guys you could just love and feel great about loving and then he’s ripped from you too soon, before he does anything that could fuck that up for you. He’s our perfect angel.”

With this settled, I want to move on to their actual love story. We know they did not have much time together before they conceived Jace, considering the timeline of events. What we can put together at least, is that Rhaenyra was in a vulnerable position with Laenor. After they tried several times to conceive and failed, she needed to secure her position quickly and found solace in Harwin, who proved himself to be one of the only trusted figures she had in court. 

The next time we see Rhaewin is after the time jump. They have already had two beautiful sons together and another has just been born. Despite this implied intimacy, they have to hide their affections, only able to give each other coy smiles and a playful line here and there. Harwin holds their newborn son and Rhaenyra looks at the sight with adoration, yet also a hint of sadness, as if she is thinking of a world where they could be open about their love. In the night, they are in each other’s arms and make sons, princes of the realm. Yet in the day, these stolen moments are all they can afford.

The next time we see Harwin, he points out Criston Cole’s lack of care in his son’s training. He attempts to teach Jace as distantly as he can, and it is very clear he is increasingly frustrated with only being able to go so far in his son’s teachings. In the end, Cole still provokes him, and Harwin unleashes his anger on him. All the pain and frustration of only being able to love Rhaenyra and their children from afar is let out in the form of this beatdown on Cole. 

It would not follow without consequence however. Harwin is ordered to leave his position as Commander of the City Watch and go back to Harrenhal, away from Rhaenyra, away from their sons. Ryan Corr does an amazing job in this scene and you can just feel his utter devotion when he says one of my favorite lines from the show “you have your honor, and I have mine”. 

In a world where conceiving bastards is considered sinful and shameful, Harwin sees their union as one of love and honor. His sons are not treacherous reminders of sin and lust, but worthy princes born of love.

Rhaenyra and Harwin’s final scene together is one of the most heartbreaking scenes in the show. Rhaenyra is losing one of the only trusted figures she has in court, the man she sought comfort in and who fathered her three sons, and Harwin is losing everything that means the most to him. And once again, despite the privacy, despite the fact that this is their last moment together, they still cannot be open about their love. There is no final kiss goodbye, not even a hug. There is only a single look between them that says all we need to know, and a hopeful promise that Harwin will return. 

One of the most tragic things about this scene is that Jacaerys picks up on everything between them. He sees the looks shared between them, the desire for a hug or a kiss, he sees it all and he knows what it means. His mother and father have a love story that they can never tell anyone about, not even their own son. 

TL;DR: Rhaewin is a beautiful yet tragic twist on the knight and princess love story trope. Those that see this relationship as shameful have had their brains rotted by team discourse who buy into the “bastardphobia” present in universe (despite the fact that that is constantly criticized by the narrative itself), and wave it away as a “mistake”. There is nothing at all shameful about their relationship, and their sons were not made of sin, but of love. Rhaewin is also far from boring or shallow, to say this is to insult the work done by Emma and Ryan. There is a very beautiful, and rich love story between these two characters for those that have eyes to see it.

[pluralprompts]

[Had an error when trying to post an ask. This is our attempt at a work-around.]

Anonymous asked: Could you please put that your pro-endo in your bio? Considering the main difference between antis and pros is that we define "all plurals" differently, it's not very clear what you meant, and I thought you were anti-endo until I went through every single one of your side blogs mentioned in your pinned post

-an anti-endo who loves your prompts, the newest prompts tags just took me off guard <3

As you have noted, We use the term "plural" in our posts and blog name, which is inherently inclusive/pro-endo and has been since its coining decades ago, so I am not going to honor this unnecessary request. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but if you're using "plural" in any sort of anti-endo or generally exclusionist way, you are using it incorrectly, since it originated as an inclusive alternative to terms that had more medical associations. I'm honestly offended that you thought I was part of the same group of exclusionists that has openly and repeatedly told me they want me dead, have sent me gore in response to a positivity post, recently invaded inclusive tags to spread hate, and regularly tell me to kill myself – hell, you yourself are admitting that you are against my right to self-determination if not my very existence, alongside my religious and spiritual beliefs (I don't have to tell you how this in particular is an asshole move, do I?), and believe that you somehow know what's going on inside my head better than I or even – at the very least, if you won't listen to me and the thousands of other endogenic systems about our own lives – the doctors actually studying endogenic plurality do, considering our endogenic origins. I will not block you so that you can see this response, but you are not welcome here. Here is a document full of sources about endogenic plurality existing and being recognized as a real and valid scientific phenomenon, not to mention how it is a cultural, spiritual, and religious practice found around the world; I hope you educate yourself and grow as a person. You seem to be trying to be polite, so I can only hope that you are just someone who has been horribly misinformed about pro-endos and endogenic systems.

However, at the same time, please understand that you are asking a blog with an inherently inclusive term in the title and all their posts, and a pinned post that clarifies yes, they do mean they support all systems (and advise those who don't support all systems not to interact), to put a separate warning in their bio that yes, they actually really do mean it when they say they support all systems. The thing is, I wouldn't have a problem with this request if it wasn't under this context. You yourself have admitted that you read my pinned post; how did you take the section that says all systems/plurals are welcome (and exclusionists like you are not) and somehow think it meant we didn't actually mean all? If you're excluding anyone from your definition of "all plurals" by adding little rules like "must be traumagenic", you don't mean all. You mean some. You, as an anti-endo, as an anti- certain plurals, only support some plurals. Someone who is against part of a community does not support all of a community; they only support the part of the community they are not against, which is only some of the community. This is how quantitative words work. Just because you have decided that the part of the community you personally choose to support and give basic respect to is the only "real" or "valid" part of the community doesn't mean the part you don't support stops existing or stops using the label you claim to support fully and without any restrictions or rules (since that is what supporting all of a community means); you don't actually support all plurals, and I'm concerned that you ever thought you did. I could break out a Euler diagram if it would make it clearer that only supporting some does not mean supporting all, and that supporting all does not mean supporting only a particular group. That's like saying you support all animals while being anti mammals and, at best, believing they're all actually confused and misguided birds – or, as I'll elaborate on in a moment, saying you support all queer people while being an aphobe who, at best, thinks aspecs are all just confused and misguided gays. That is not support, and you are certainly not giving your actual respect to all plurals. I say this delicately, but I don't think you should be participating in syscourse if you have trouble with the concept that excluding people from a label means not being inclusive of all people who use that label.

If a comparison will help you understand our response, especially the passive aggressiveness that I can admit is fully leaking through – this ask is essentially the same as how aphobes, during the years of "ace discourse", would occasionally react with surprise that queer blogs supported aspecs, despite aspecs being documented parts of and contributors to the queer community for decades, and queer being an inclusive term. In essence, "I know you're using an inclusive term that both historically and in the modern day includes people I hate, but I really thought you would agree with me that said marginalized group that I hate shouldn't exist, and that this community would be better off if they were all gone!" Meanwhile, aphobes were posting gore in the aspec tags, making fun of the murder of an asexual girl, spreading lies of pedophilia about anyone who showed support for aspecs, and telling aspecs that they were lying about the discrimination they've faced, that their sexualities were just trauma responses or mental illnesses, that they were broken and needed to be "fixed", that they were "stealing terms" and "making the community look bad", that they were making it all up for attention, or just straight-up to kill themselves. None of these examples are all too dissimilar from what I regularly see anti-endos saying and doing – some of them are the exact same save some of the specific words used by these bigots swapped out for more system specific ones. Just today I saw an anti-endo claim that pro-endos are "grooming children" just by being inclusive, like how aphobes claim aspec people are "grooming children".

Yes, I am aware this is harsh to hear. No, I am not going to apologize – your community and hatred is part of the reason we have traumagenic origins (hello, the one writing this is a protector who split specifically due to the trauma you anti-endos inflicted on us!! In other words, your community is directly responsible for my traumagenic existence!! Should I be thanking you for allowing me a chance to experience the better parts of life? Hm, nah.) and are scared to interact with others who share our own damn disorder. You claim the "main difference" between us and you is that we define "all plurals" differently, but from where we're standing, the "main difference" is that pro-endos aren't regularly traumatizing, harassing, suicide baiting, mocking and insulting, spreading misinformation about, using slurs against, wishing harm on, and fakeclaiming the other side, often for merely disagreeing with them. We just came out of a harassment campaign in which anti-endos spread hate in our inclusive tags and spaces for weeks. I'm fucking sick of syscourse and being told I should kill myself for the "crime" of being inclusive of endogenic systems like the ones that helped me accept my plurality in the first place, or the pro-endos that create resources that help me manage my DID and not be a dissociative wreck all the time. To say the main difference between our communities is "how we define 'all plurals'" is a spit in the face of all the shit I and many, many others have faced from anti-endos like you over the years.

If you change your stance and learn not to hate others for their religions, cultures, traits they can't control, and personal beliefs and choices about their own body and mind, we will be happy to welcome you to our community and this blog. But until then, you need to re-evaluate your priorities and morals in life. Are you fine with being part of a community that twists others' words on the regular to make it seem like they're promoting child abuse? Are you chill with the fact that I exist as a protector to defend my system from people like you, the same way many others in my system exist to protect us from other abusers and threats to our safety and health? Are you okay with telling a living, breathing person you admire and enjoy the work of that you disagree with their identity and existence, and that you ally yourself with those who want them dead just for existing, have even personally threatened their life and well-being, as you have just done with this ask?

What took me off-guard was this ask and just how horribly you seem to be unaware of basic concepts like "plural is an inclusive term signaling someone is pro-endo" and "'all systems' does not mean 'only traumagenic systems'." But I guess in a way, it's only fair; you mistook me for one of those who hate my guts – while I can't tell even as I type this if you are a troll or not.

TLDR: No, we will not clarify in our bio that we are pro-endo, because there is no need to do so when we already use terms that signal that everywhere on our blog, and our pinned post even clarifies our stance in the rare case someone doesn't know the signal. You have been horribly misinformed; you cannot support "all plurals" while being against certain plurals, and "plural" is an inclusive term anyway even without that clarification. Again, you have misunderstood our pinned post which tells anti-endos like you to fuck off, which is almost funny considering we put that section in the post due to the horrendous amounts of harassment we and other pro-endos (not even just endogenic systems; a lot of anti-endos group all of us together as "fakers spreading misinformation") have faced from anti-endos like you. Please go think about the kind of people you're spending time with, and ask yourself if you're okay with being part of the same group of people that wants those like me dead for the crime of existing in a way that doesn't adhere to one specific medical model whose authors acknowledge isn't the only way to be more-than-one, anyway.

Have the day you deserve! <3