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detective-eggy · 2 years ago

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𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢; 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble and it turned into a very long part of my originally planned Christmas fic. sOOO.. you're welcome (and yes I did co-opt Wanda and Vision's thing at the beginning because I can and I wanted to)

request: @wandasdolly; okay so hear me out… festive wandanat sex by the fireplace… and there’s blankets and wine and probably christmas music playing and i am just being horny anyway bye😁

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

wc: 4.2k

summary: Private Hire: Origins AU; This is an 18+ only work, minors DNI; smut, fluff; cozy and romantic living room sex, fingering, oral, cum strap because I'm a feral homosexual, Natasha has two wolves inside her: one that's horny for Wanda and the other that's disgustingly in love with her, cuddly aftercare and a lot of feelings at the end because this is me and well, I've been wanting to write this for a long time

private hire au. || main masterlist.

"Wanda, darling..."

"Natasha, sweetheart?" Wanda struggled to keep her weight on just one arm, her other bent to keep her glass of wine upright. She'd been in the middle of taking another sip when Natasha leaned in to kiss her cheek, cutting her drink short to replace cool glass with her lips. "What are you doing?"

The redhead chuckled against her skin, leaving lipstick marks along Wanda's jaw as she continued her trek. "You're a smart girl. What do you think I'm doing?"

Elegant piano versions of classic Christmas songs played low in the background, Natasha having insisted on pulling out her records for the living room scene she'd set. Thick blankets laid over the carpeted floor, fire crackling over wooden logs nestled in their large fireplace, Natasha surprised Wanda with a cozy night alone for the holidays. It was a sweet gesture for the typically stoic one of the pair, the kind of thing Wanda loved more than anything especially during her favorite time of year.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you're up to something..." As Wanda spoke, Natasha pressed forward, kissing down her neck as she turned it to the side and allowed her further access. The moment she felt her girlfriend's hands on her hips, she expected some kind of removal of her silk pajama top, but it never came.

Instead, when Nat's mouth reached the last bits of exposed skin over her sternum, they traveled over the fabric and nuzzled into Wanda's chest where she always felt most safe and secure. "You should set your wine down before you spill it."

Wanda looked down then, raising a confused brow to the woman too preoccupied with reverently kissing the swells of her breasts to notice being watched. "I'm not going to spill- oh..."

The glass met the stone fire hearth with a hard clank, Wanda's hand shaky as Natasha's lips wrapped around a covered nipple. Both arms had to support her now, Nat tugging her closer and leaving her at a somewhat awkward angle- it was hard to care while her girlfriend licked over the semi-hard bud. Both of them knew how sensitive she was, Natasha exploiting it at every turn when she needed Wanda breathless and pliable as quickly as possible, but this was different.

This was slow, careful, tongue rolling over her in a teasing promise of what was to come before she switched to the other, not wanting to neglect any part of Wanda. "You're going to ruin my shirt..."

"They're pajamas, you'll get over it." She'd been bouncing around for weeks arranging everything —buying this house to get away from bustling city streets, the type of home Wanda sighed over whenever they drove by, giving explicit instructions to not be disturbed unless someone was dying of in danger of it— all of this for Wanda's Christmas gift. Nothing was going to get in the way of Natasha making the most of their time together.

And so only when Wanda began to whine, needing more after being wound up painfully slowly, did Natasha guide the brunette to lay back. She undid the row of tiny buttons blocking her top half from view before sliding matching bottoms down to her ankles, calloused fingers dragging down skin so soft Natasha felt blessed to touch it. Wanda kicked the pants off herself, moved to rid herself of her underwear, the last piece of clothing that kept her from being fully exposed, but Natasha stopped her.

She sat back on her knees to get a good look at her, long hair splayed out atop the quilt where Wanda lay prone, wide green eyes a little hazy from the alcohol, but playful nonetheless as she smiled up at Natasha; she swore she felt her heart leap. Maybe she paused too long because manicured fingernails dug into Natasha's thighs, Wanda having grown impatient, "What are you staring at?"

"You," Natasha said without hesitation, tracing the shadows the fire made over Wanda's abdomen with her pointer finger, "You're beautiful and I don't think I tell you that enough." Wanda blushed a deep pink and went to shake her head, but Nat was quick to hold her chin still and force her to take the compliment. "You're beautiful and I love you and I need you to remember that."

Wanda could've made some snarky remark about how dramatic Natasha was being, how she didn't have to say that stuff just to get in her pants, but the words she heard choked her up. Manipulative as she could be, Natasha would never lie to Wanda, not about that, and in the short seconds she managed to make eye contact with the woman above her, Wanda saw only sincerity in her loving gaze. "Show me."

Natasha closed the distance quickly, kissing Wanda until she was breathless and nearly lightheaded. When she descended this time it was with teeth scraped over her collarbone and nibbles that were sure to leave a mark. Pointedly ignoring Wanda's breasts until an insistent hand pulled her by her hair to them, Natasha bit down harder than she needed to, the brunette squeaking and squirming as Nat soothed the blossoming red bruise with a series of apologetic licks. "I'll be wearing turtlenecks until that goes away, Nat."

"It's winter anyways, too cold to show off." She was content to let Wanda rock against her thigh while she played, sucking and licking each nipple and rolling whichever one she couldn't have in her mouth with her fingers, always a game to see how fast Natasha could make her cum just like that. But today was for more than that and as Nat's free hand dipped lower, snapping the sides of Wanda's panties against her hips, she couldn't bring herself to be too disappointed hanging up her mischievous hat for one night.

Pushing insistent hips to still on the ground, curious fingers dipped between Wanda's legs and found a sizable spot on that last piece of her clothing; a telltale sign of her arousal. "You're so wet, baby. Is that all for me? Because I made you dinner and got your favorite wine, or did I play with your tits so much you're already close to cumming?"

Wanda hated and loved when Natasha called attention to her like so; hated for how cocky her girlfriend got no matter what her response and loved for the way that kind of talk tightened that coil in her belly, a true double-edged sword. Keeping her ego in check was a 24/7 job, but Wanda had to admit it was kind of cute to see Natasha so visibly proud of herself. "Both, now touch me before I do it myself and make you watch."

"Oh honey," Natasha cooed, easily moving the thin lace to the side and sliding two fingers along Wanda's folds, "you know you'd only be begging me to do it for you the entire time."

Confident fingertips toyed with Wanda's clit, moving in time with the ones still firmly at her chest, Nat grinning wide while Wanda's back arched involuntarily and she cried out, her first orgasm a sudden and unplanned surprise.

As her head swam, Wanda recalled the short video she'd sent Natasha just a few days prior, motivation to come home after she'd gotten word the older woman was held up and would be back later than planned. In it, she'd fucked herself on her newest vibrator, a toy she knew Natasha was itching to see Wanda use— she didn't realize she'd called out Natasha's name until after she pressed the send button. Soft and desperate, pleading for her girlfriend and her help on pure instinct... Natasha wasn't going to let that go unnoticed.

In this particular instance, the shock of it all left Wanda's mouth open in a silent scream; gorgeous as she was, Natasha wanted to hear her name again. Thankfully she was far from done.

Wanda's underwear joined her pants in a heap next to them before Natasha kissed her way back up the expanse of Wanda's bare legs, holding them apart to selfishly drink in the sinful sight of her lover spread open just for her. "Have I mentioned how pretty you are, Wands?"

The girl only rolled her eyes, brushing off her gawking to tug at Natasha who was still fully clothed. "I want to see you too."

She wasn't shy about her body, Wanda having seen it countless times over the few years they've known one another, but she never failed to be surprised when Wanda asked. Before her and even at the beginning of her, the sex she had was quick and detached, clothes askew and shoved aside to get to the point; when Wanda demanded more from her, Natasha was too head over heels to deny the request.

Especially on nights such as these where she focused on Wanda alone, she never liked to be the only one naked and so Natasha obliged, shedding her pajama shirt and letting her girlfriend's hands roam at will. Wanda sat up then, taking her turn to kiss every inch of skin she could reach, fingertips lovingly skirting over every cut and scar Natasha sustained over the years. "I think you're plenty beautiful yourself, you know."

She knew Natasha wouldn't let it last long, not when a brush between her legs revealed the thick strap on set firmly in place on her hips, but the brevity didn't stop Wanda from wanting to show what appreciation she could anyways. "And this is for me, I'm assuming."

"Depends, do you want it to be?" Natasha rocked against Wanda's as she rubbed over the fake cock, the textured base of the toy perfect for giving some much needed attention to her neglected sex. She rarely talked about how much it turned her on just to make Wanda fall apart, but honestly, it made her insatiable. Even getting to watch the display she doubted Wanda knew she was putting on, wiggling against the blankets as she palmed her strap with such anticipation she had to bite her lip to keep from immediately asking for it... Nat could've cum on the spot.

Wanda's hand stilled, bringing her eyes back up to meet Natasha's, mirthful expression so cute the redhead fought the urge to pinch her cheeks, "I thought you hated dumb questions."

Natasha laughed at that, reluctantly pulling Wanda away and pushing her back once more so that she could rid herself of her own pants before leaning over Wanda until their chests were pressed together, "It's not a dumb question if I'm asking. Do you want it?"

She rolled her pelvis against Wanda's slowly, deliberately sliding the strap on against Wanda's wet folds as she fought to keep still. Wanda knew what she was doing and it wasn't fair, forcing Wanda to beg for something on what was supposed to be a romantic night where Natasha usually gave without asking— it wasn't a habit her girlfriend could kick easily. "Yes..."

"Yes what?" Nat took that sweet pressure away and replaced it with her fingers, pushing one digit past her entrance without warning. It didn't hurt, but Wanda whimpered anyways, the sudden intrusion catching her off guard. A second finger joined the first soon after, steadily stretching Wanda until she was ready to speak her wishes. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, whatever it is."

"I-I..." Forming sentences was hard when two fingers were fucking her open, fast and rough even as Natasha's words stayed even-paced and calm. It was too much and not enough, even as those devious fingers curled, hitting that one spot that drove Wanda to madness. She didn't want to be so close again, not without her girlfriend's strap buried deep inside her; all she had to do was say it. "I want you to fuck me! Nat, please, I'm gonna-!"

"You're gonna what? Cum again?" Wanda nodded, desperately trying to stave off her impending orgasm, but Natasha never let up. When the girl's mewling gave away her stubbornness, Nat cradled her flushed cheek in her hand, thumb running over kiss-swollen lips. "Let go for me, sweet thing. Let me see you cum just like this and I'll give you what you really want."

It was only a few seconds longer that she lasted, arms drawn tight around Natasha's neck as she rode out her orgasm. This one was stronger than the last, longer and fuller, and Wanda was glad to already be laid out where her muscles could safely give way.

As soon as Nat's fingers pulled out, her strap pushed in, thicker than her digits and inching ever deeper until her lover bottomed out with a low grunt. "Shit, Wanda..."

Long legs wound around Natasha's waist as Wanda adjusted to the stretch, both keeping her close as she could and giving her girlfriend a better angle to grind against the toy's base, willing to endure the temporary discomfort if it meant hearing more of Nat's swears and the occasional praises that came with them. "Tasha... fuck me."

Gentle command as it was, Natasha moved, slow at first until she could go without resistance, finding just the right pace as she left messy kisses down Wanda's throat. "This what you wanted?"

"Again with the dumb questions," Wanda bypassed a real response in favor of pulling the redhead closer, dragging red lines down her back with blunt fingernails as Natasha hit the perfect angle. It felt so right, like everything did when it was with her; the singular person Wanda trusted to see her at her most vulnerable. "Right there, don't stop!"

"Here?" Natasha accented her question with a particularly hard thrust, Wanda's exaggerated groan immediately giving her her answer. A few more pointed movements of her hips and Wanda might have well been a puddle on the floor, babbling any number of incoherent pleas Natasha could only just make out as Sokovian.

"What's the matter, Wanda, can’t talk straight with your pussy stuffed full of my cock? Poor baby.” She couldn't help but play into it, to drive her further into the subspace that was for Natasha's eyes only. Wanda looked like she wanted to say something back, probably some half-hearted distaste for Natasha’s vulgarity, but she couldn’t pretend not to love it. Not when the same woman tugged her hips upwards to keep hitting that same spot now threatening to make her drool, her eyes rolling back into her head as she mumbled and reached for Natasha.

On her third orgasm, she was terribly sensitive and didn't have a hope of lasting long even if she tried. Natasha drew it out as long as she could, working her way to her own climax right along with the woman below. Wanda preferred it that way, always wanting to share her ecstasy with the person she loved most; it was sweetest to her watching the same pleasure she felt wash over her lover at the same time. “Fuck, Wanda, you feel amazing.. I’m so close..”

Natasha’s head dropped into the crook of Wanda’s neck and she was quick to bury her fingers in thick red locks, uncaring of how hard she pulled as she neared her end once more. “Cum with me Tasha, please, please-!”

Their joined climax was a flurry of kisses and sighs, Wanda clinging to Natasha for dear life as a gush of liquid slipped deep inside her, some added thing to her girlfriend’s new toy that only added to the fullness she felt. Natasha’s hips had yet to still, rutting into Wanda for as long as her orgasm let her. When she did come down, she held tight to Wanda, squeezing her limp form and kissing her shoulder until the other woman protested her suffocation. “Sorry…”

When Wanda opened her eyes it was to Natasha’s shy smile and she giggled, granting her a quick peck on the nose before Nat pulled back. “You’re quite cute when you’re clingy.”

“I’m not cute.” Natasha sat back on her knees, lazy eyes dropping from Wanda’s exhausted gaze to where she was now glistening in the firelight, a mixture of her arousal and the toy’s lubricant dripping from her abused entrance. She was gathering it on her fingers without a second thought, moaning as she pushed it back in and slowly let her digits drift back inside. Nat studied Wanda as she toyed with her, checking for signs of discomfort or even pain; when none came, she figured she might as well ask for the one thing she wanted. “Can I taste you, my love? I’ll be quick.”

Wanda nodded, her eyes already falling closed again, “Be gentle.” It was an easy enough request to abide by and Nat laid kisses down Wanda’s abdomen as a thank you, soft and adoring little things over her lower belly, willing her girlfriend to relax when her lips finally reached the top of her mound. She was flat on her stomach now, inspecting Wanda up close to commit the sight to memory— Natasha would spend all night filling Wanda up just to watch it seep out and fuck it back in again if she’d let her, but that was for some other time.

Her tongue was careful as it licked over her hole, mindful of Wanda’s shivers and quivering thighs, but she tasted divine and soon enough Natasha was taking every bit of her she could get. “You’re always so good for me, Wanda, so perfect…”

The only response she received was a pleased hum, a sound made comfortably enough that Natasha continued on in stride, turning her attention to Wanda’s swollen clit. Loving sets of kitten licks left Wanda’s hips stuttering, Natasha wrapping her lips around it and sucking only because she knew when she let up there’d be a fresh pool of wetness waiting for her. She continued her little cycle until Wanda weakly pushed her away with a strained whine, “Too sensitive, hurts…”

Instantly worried, Natasha was off in a flash, giving the exhausted woman a thorough once over. She’d been so careful, but even so, if she’d done something harmful, she’d never forgive herself. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly okay, Nat.” Wanda shook her head, running her hands over her girlfriend’s thighs to reassure her now frantic state. “Don’t overreact, I’m fine. Barely awake, but I feel great.” Nat breathed an audible sigh of relief, but kept her distance, giving Wanda the space she hated having after sex. Her outstretched arms reminded Natasha yet again how much of a cuddler her partner was, another activity she only ever indulged when it came to Wanda.

She scooped her up along with a blanket, wrapping Wanda in a warm bundle before letting her lay on her chest; the brunette’s favorite way to be held when she was tired and reorienting herself. Rarely did she say anything which was more than fine for the other woman who tended to exist in silence unless prompted, but something about tonight compelled Natasha to speak up. “I love you.”

“Yes, I know,” Wanda chuckled, giving Natasha a quick squeeze as she sleepily watched the dimming fire. Nat took her hand though, catching her attention as she played with it in her own. All day her partner had been so… odd; not in any way Wanda could complain about with the gift of this house, dinner, and everything else, but she had to admit it was completely out of character. “I love you too.”

“No, I…” She felt stupid even trying to say it, having shown it as best she could and most likely doing more than enough to prove her point, but the truest words were always the hardest ones for Natasha to convey. “I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you that it makes me feel like an idiot.”

“You’re being a little silly, sweetheart. We should probably go to bed-” A kiss cut Wanda off, bold and full of a strange uncertainty that caught her off guard. She could still taste herself on Natasha’s lips from earlier and as she was pulled impossibly closer, Wanda feared her spine would break if the arms around her held any tighter.

Nat gave her just enough space, her forehead pressed against Wanda’s as their heavy breaths mingled. “Marry me.”

Wanda’s once half lidded eyes flew open, scooting back from Natasha to stare at her in disbelief. She’d been with her girlfriend long enough to know when she was joking; Wanda didn’t know if it scared her more not to see any evidence of that in her or not. “Natalia, don’t…”

“Don’t do that, don’t pull away. I mean it!” There was no point in being on one knee when they were both sat on the ground so Natasha just shuffled closer, taking Wanda’s hand back and holding it in her own shaky ones. “I want to live in this house here, with you, and come back here every night to call this our home. I never want to think about having another Christmas without you right by my side or any other holiday that in all honesty, I think are stupid, but you love. I want to see your face light up when I surprise you and kill whatever makes you cry. Hell, I even like cuddling now when it means holding you. I want you to marry me.”

She didn’t know what to say, effectively stunned into silence at Natasha’s confession. In all the ways Wanda imagined a proposal as a little girl, it was never naked in a blanket on the floor of some American home in New York, being asked by a woman who she loved as much as she butt heads with. Far from her wildest dreams, but Wanda had long stopped having those. “Ask me.”

“What?” Pleased as she was Wanda didn’t yell or bolt from the room as she’s been known to do, her response wasn’t the enthusiastic yes Natasha hoped for.

“You said you want to marry me, so ask me.” Wanda stared at Natasha blankly, expectantly until the other woman got the hint. Her instinct was to roll her eyes, remark that Wanda couldn’t ever just take a gesture for what it was, no, she had to be difficult about it; she knew this about her and none of it made Natasha want her any less.

And so she straightened up, holding Wanda’s hand firmly now, and asked the question Wanda thought she’d never hear. “I’ve said it a thousand times today, but I’ll say it a thousand more if you ask me to: I love you. So much so that I’m asking you to marry me without buying you a ring because I couldn’t bear one more day without knowing you’ll be mine for the rest of our lives. We fight sometimes and we’re both so stubborn, I’m sure we’ll never stop having our disagreements, but you’ll also never stop being the only person I trust with everything I have. I’m not good with the words that actually matter and you know that so please don’t make me do this again; will you marry me, Wanda Maximoff?”

Wanda didn’t like crying, hated when it happened and even more so when Natasha was around to see it, but this time she’d caused it and Wanda was too overwhelmed with emotion to hold back her sob. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

She flung herself back into Natasha’s arms, a sweaty mess of tears and the smell of sex, but Nat caught her anyways, rubbing her back as Wanda cried. Unfortunately, Natasha hadn’t thought through how emotional Wanda tended to get; she’d barely bargained for her own stumbling before opening her mouth. “You’re too tired to be crying like this, you’ll pass out.”

“You’d take care of me,” Wanda mumbled, curling into Natasha’s lap as she tried to settle herself down. It took a while, longer because the brunette refused to quit kissing her new fiancee to properly catch her breath. When she finally did, her wide smile was still plastered on her face and Natasha found it contagious, a similar expression stuck on her own mouth. “That was quite an adorable proposal, Miss Romanoff.”

Natasha raised a brow, wiping the last remnants of tears from Wanda’s pink cheeks with a disgruntled huff, “If you tell anyone about that, I’ll make sure they can’t speak a word of it to anyone else.”

“Does that include-”

“That especially includes Sam. Not a word or I’m taking my proposal back.” Wanda laughed, not believing a single thing that came out of her grumpy wife-to-be’s mouth. Natasha was so protective of her steel-cut persona, so few people heard anything different and even fewer actually saw it. Wanda, on the other hand, loved spilling secrets to their friends and more than once, Natasha caught herself being the topic of conversation; they never let her live those moments down. “Not a single word, I mean it. I bet I can sell this house too.”

#wandanat #maximotts #AIEEEEEEEEEE #squeakingsqwakingscreaming #PROPOSAL MOMENT?!?!#Natasha’s ‘you’re beautiful’ moment was just - !#the proposal was just !!!#yes your honor the smut was superb but look at all that sweet genuine soft soulmate vulnerable tender moments #merry Christmas indeed #bravo

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peanut-tyrug · 1 year ago

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DS Fanfic: The Ballad of the Rose

Wes, Wolfgang and Wigfrid discover a rose-ridden stage in a small clearing. The three decide to use the stage to put on a show for their fellow Survivors, but little do they know that they’ve already set the Shadow Queen’s plan for the performers in motion…

TRIGGER WARNING - This fic includes: Mentions of death, judgmental harsh speech, claustrophobia, emotional manipulation, voices/voices in the mind, and arachnophobia. A character is told that they can’t do anything right and is referred to as a burden/blight on this world at one point. If you aren’t comfortable with any of these, please don’t read this.

Wes, Wolfgang, and Wigfrid tread through a small forest. They had left camp to go out on a hunt that Wigfrid had proposed, as she felt that a hunt would help bring up Wes and Wolfgang’s fighting skills and bravery (which they desperately need). Wigfrid is leading while Wolfgang and Wes follow behind, each of them holding their own spears.

As they walk, they approach an area past the trees with various spider dens littered throughout. They peek through the trees and look upon the sight before them.

Wolfgang quivers in fear. “Ooh… creepy crawlies… Wolfgang no like this…”

Wes tries to comfort the strongman by patting his back. Wes smiles at the strongman. Wolfgang looks back to Wes and smiles back.

Wigfrid looks back to the mime and strongman. She speaks up in a stern whisper. “Remember. Nö cöwering away! Be brave, ströng! Unlöck yöur inner warriör!”

Wes, although a tad scared, nods semi-confidently. Wolfgang continues to quiver. “Wolfgang don’t know about this…”

“Thöu will be fine! Tis önly spiders! Övercome thine fear, dearest ströngman!” Wigfrid says in a slightly loud and confident whisper.

Wolfgang looks over to Wes. He tries to confidently nod and smile to help Wolfgang feel better. A look that attempts to scream “You got this!”

Wolfgang gains a more confident look on his face. He straightens his back up a bit. “Wolfgang will try! For his friends!” He flexes his arms.

“Hush!” Wigfrid hushes Wolfgang.

“Sorry. Heh, too much.” Wolfgang responds, slightly embarrassed.

“Tis fine.” Wigfrid responds back.

The three performers peek over the trees and slowly enter the den-ridden spot, trying to be as quiet as possible. Wigfrid leads, Wes behind Wigfrid, and Wolfgang behind Wes. The spiders shortly take notice of the three of them. Wigfrid and Wes (who is slightly afraid, but trying his hardest to be brave), ready their spears. Wolfgang quivers, but he tries to ready himself.

The spiders charge toward the three of them. Wigfrid and Wes charge forward. Wolfgang however…

“AIEEEEEEEEEE!!”

That man simply couldn’t be there any longer.

Wolfgang runs off, leaving his fellow performers. He heads into the bushes and tries to look for the forest’s exit.

Wes looks back to see Wolfgang running off. He tries to catch up with him, but spiders quickly begin to run after the poor mime. He tries to fend them off as best he can, while also panicking.

Wigfrid looks from her own set of spiders (now mostly dead) to see a struggling Wes and Wolfgang nowhere to be seen. She rushes over to Wes to help him. Wes attempts to assist her. The round of spiders is eventually killed off.

“Where is the ströngman?” Wigfrid asks, annoyed.

Wes points in the direction Wolfgang ran off to. She groans.

Suddenly, more spiders flood from their dens. Wigfrid and Wes prepare their spears. Wigfrid charges forward with Wes trailing behind her.

Deep in the forest, Wolfgang runs, desperately looking for an exit.

He spots a small opening in between a few trees. Wolfgang darts toward the opening and exits the forest.

Only to be meant with a large stage.

Wolfgang looks at the stage in awe, his mouth agape. He walks closer to it. Wolfgang notices that the flooring has changed from a grassy clearing, to something that almost feels like the floor of a throne room. Around the stage are a few mannequins bearing masks. Wolfgang tries not to look at them however. They freak him out.

Nearby the stage is large book. Wolfgang walks up to it, but doesn’t attempt to read it. He can’t read very well.

Wolfgang walks up to the stage and gets up on it. He looks in awe. “…Pretty stage.”

“STRÖNGMAN!!” a familiar voice booms from the trees.

Wolfgang looks back in fear. He sees Wigfrid and Wes walking out from the trees. Wigfrid looks extremely mad. Wes bears a disappointed expression. He is nowhere near as upset as Wigfrid though (he can understand why Wolfgang ran away, but he’s still a bit disappointed in him).

“WHAT DID I SAY ABÖUT CÖWERING-“ Wigfrid takes notice of the humongous stage Wolfgang is standing on. “-away…?”

Wigfrid and Wes look in shock as they approach the stage. The two eventually reach the stage’s edge. Wolfgang cowers and apologizes. “Sorry! Wolfgang couldn’t handle it!” He puts his hands up to cover his face. “Wolfgang is sorry! Just no arm nudgies!”

“We can wörry aböut that later…” says Wigfrid, still looking on in awe. Wigfrid and Wes step onto the stage, admiring it’s beauty.

“Hah!” Wigfrid laughs triumphantly, slamming the wooden end of her spear onto the stage’s floor. “Such a stage this be!”

Wes admires the stage, and realizes that both of the stage’s beams are wrapped in thorny rose vines. He walks over to the right beam and sniffs one of the roses. It’s scent is very pleasant, but also eerily familiar…

…Charlie…

Wes, although liking the scent, still shivers at the realization of the scent’s familiarity.

Wes the notices a large book nearby the stage. He steps off the stage to get a closer look at it. Wigfrid and Wolfgang notice Wes’ departure and follow behind him.

“Tis a playbill!” Wigfrid beams.

“Can clownman and stronglady read that?” Wolfgang asks.

“Hm… 'A Little Drama'?” Wigfrid reads the title allowed. Wigfrid speed-reads through the first bit of playbill. “Tis a drama cöncieved by the Queen öf Shadöws…”

Wolfgang and Wes shiver at what Wigfrid said. The three performers sink into their thoughts.

…Why is this stage even here anyway? What could Charlie want of the Survivors?

…Or did she place the stage there for our performers to find…?

“…Should we inform friends?” Wolfgang breaks the silence amongst them.

Wigfrid snaps back to reality. “Ah! Yes! We shöuld! I shall lead us back to camp! Föllöw mine tracks!”

The three performers head back to camp to inform their fellow campmates of their find…

And from her throne room, the Shadow Queen watches the performers set foot back to their camp…

The Queen giggles to herself. She smiles maliciously.

- Later -

“Is here! This way!” Wolfgang shouts.

The three performers have led a few Survivors; namely Wickerbottom, Wilson, and Maxwell, to where they had found the stage.

The librarian, scientist, and magician can’t believe what their looking at. Maxwell especially.

“Tis a sight tö behöld, is it nöt?” Wigfrid says proudly.

Wickerbottom places a hand to her face and smiles. “It’s very elegant.”

“Indeed!” Wilson agrees.

Maxwell can only stare blankly.

“…I’m so sorry…” is all Maxwell can think. He can’t even utter a word.

Wickerbottom looks to Maxwell, concerned. “Maxwell dear, are you alright?”

Wilson almost wants to say as a joke “Cat got your tongue, Maxwell?”, but he doesn’t.

Maxwell walks up onto the stage and heads to it’s right beam. He takes hold of one of the roses on the beam. He looks at the rose in despair.

“…I’m so sorry, Charlie…” he whispers to himself.

The other five Survivors look on as Maxwell sulks. Wickerbottom goes up onto the stage and heads to Maxwell. She pats him on the shoulder. He looks back to the librarian and softly smiles, before turning back to the rose and frowning.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Wickerbottom asks.

“…It reminds me of someone I lost…” Maxwell responds.

'…to something I caused.' Maxwell thinks to himself.

“Well… I hope they’re in a better place now.” Wickerbottom says hopefully.

Maxwell forces a smile, but doesn’t say anything.

The other four Survivors look on.

“…So, um… have you considered using the stage?” Wilson asks the performers, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Öh! We have nöt…” Says Wigfrid. “We very much cöuld höwever…”

Wilson looks over to the large playbill. “You gonna use that book over there?”

“Hm… nö. Tis better if we make öur öwn shöw, I believe.”

Wes beams. He takes out a notepad from his pocket. He walks up to Wigfrid and points at the notepad.

“Ha! Yes, yöu can start cöming up with ideas.” Wigfrid pats Wes’ back.

“And Wolfgang will help!” Wolfgang interjects, and flexes his arms.

“Well, what show do you have in mind?” Wilson asks, hoping that one of them would spill an idea.

Wigfrid looks at Wilson, appalled. “I wön’t tell a single söul! Yöu expect us tö spill öur ideas right nöw!? Wait a möment, kind scientist! Höld thine töngue!”

“Okay, FINE.” Wilson pouts a bit. “At least I tried.” Wilson then looks back at the stage to see Wickerbottom and Maxwell heading back down to the others, likely heading back to camp.

Maxwell doesn’t want to be there anymore.

The librarian and magician pass the other four Survivors and head into the bushes.

“I suppose we should head back now.” Wilson speaks up. “Do you think you could have a show ready by tonight?” Wilson smirks. He really wants to see the three performers perform.

“Creating a wörld, a truly fantastical experience, takes time, dear scientist.” Says Wigfrid. “But, I suppöse we can attempt tö cönquer such a feat! Right fair mime and ströngman?”

Wes nods enthusiastically. Wes was always considered to be a great writer.

“Yes! Such feat will be broken like boulder!” Wolfgang declares. Wolfgang always knew how to make a performance spectacular.

Wigfrid nods back to the two of them. “Hah! I knew yöu böth had it in yöu!”

Wilson chuckles. “You three make such a great trio! I think I’m beginning to see why you all bonded in the way you have.” He smiles softly.

All three share a similar wide-eyed expression. They’re also all blushing a bit. Wilson pays no mind to it, assuming they’re flattered by his comment.

“Ööh, yöu’re töö kind, dearest scientist! We all knöw the in’s and öuts öf the art öf perförming!” Wigfrid brightly smiles.

“I’m assuming that it’s the secret to your friendship?” Wilson asks.

“Yes! Strong brains full of stage magic!” Wolfgang declares. Wes nods enthusiastically, agreeing with Wolfgang.

Wilson continues to smile. “What great friends they are.” Wilson thinks to himself.

- Later, around mid-dusk -

Wes, Wolfgang and Wigfrid sit a decent way from the camp’s fire pit, drafting out ideas for their act on some papyrus sheets.

The three performers have attempted to come up with a show for their campmates. Wigfrid’s knowledge in acting, Wolfgang’s experience in creating show-stopping spectacles, and Wes’ prowess in writing, all meshed into one act.

Wes and Wigfrid read over the act, checking for anything that may need to be changed. Wigfrid helps Wolfgang with reading along with them, helping him understand the story they’ve drafted.

Suddenly, a young and curious voice pops up next to Wes.

“Hi! What’re you all doing here?” A curious Webber asks.

Wes jumps at Webber’s sudden appearance and tucks the papyrus sheets closer to himself, hiding them from the spider child.

“C’mon! I wanna see!” Webber pouts.

“Tis a surprise, yöung arachnid!” Wigfrid speaks up. “Thöu must wait för the sun’s beams tö settle and the creatures tö ease.”

“Aw, boo!” Webber pouts a bit. “I’ve heard great things about all of you though! I bet it’ll be great!”

“Will be great, spider-child!” Says Wolfgang.

Wes nods and pats Webber’s head.

Webber giggles. “I’ll take your word for it! Bye!” Webber runs off back to the fire pit.

The three performers continue looking through their draft…

The Shadow Queen awaits…

- Later again, night has settled -

Night has finally fallen upon the Survivors. The three performers are also done drafting their act.

Each of the Survivors sit in front of the lit fire pit. Wickerbottom eventually steps forward.

“Attention, campmates! Some performers have an announcement to make!”

Wigfrid, Wes, and Wolfgang respectively walk up next to Wickerbottom, each of them wearing their respective Roseate outfits. As the three of them walk forward, Wes pantomimes the action blowing in a medieval horn. No noise is actually produced however. A few Survivors look to the mime, confused. Wes tries not to pay any mind to it.

Wigfrid clears her throat. “Dearest friends! Tis öur greatest pleasure tö invite yöu tö öur shöw, 'The Ballad of the Rose'! Tis but a tale öf tragedy and rebirth. A spectacle tö behold it be!” Wigfrid says with her usual grand and dramatic flare. “Cöme, fellöw campmates! För we shall bring thee tö öur wörld! Öur wörld öf wöe and granduer!”

The majority of the Survivors clap, amazed by Wigfrid’s flare. Save for WX, who could care less. And Maxwell, who isn’t really paying attention.

Wickerbottom looks over to Maxwell, concerned. She whispers loud enough for only him to hear. “You don’t have to go, Maxwell.”

Maxwell nods.

“I’M NOT GOING.” WX speaks. “I COULD CARE LESS ABOUT TRIVIAL HUMAN ACTIVITIES.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.” Wilson says, irritated at WX’s comment. “I’m intrigued!”

“WELL, THAT SOUNDS LIKE A YOU PROBLEM. A HORRIBLE ONE.” WX responds.

Wilson ignores WX’s response.

Winona shoots WX a glare, although she knows she can’t do anything about WX’s behavior.

“Fellöw campmates! Let us pröceed önwards!” Wigfrid declares.

“Stage is this way!” Wolfgang speaks up.

“Everyone! Grab yourself a lantern and a spare torch and we will be on our way.” Wickerbottom announces.

Each of the Survivors, save WX and Maxwell grab a lantern and a torch and follow behind the performers, who have also picked up their own lanterns and torches.

The performers lead their audience to the stage. Everyone looks at it in awe. Winona stops dead in her tracks and looks at the stage.

She can’t help but think of Charlie.

She looks on, a tad dismayed.

Wickerbottom approaches Winona. “Are you alright, Winona dear?” She asks Winona, concerned.

“Hm… I wanna be there to cheer them on, but… I can’t help but think of Charlie…” Winona opens up a bit.

“If you want to go back to camp, you can. I’m sure the performers won’t mind.” Wickerbottom reassures.

“…As long as they don’t mind, I don’t.” Winona responds. She then smiles a bit. “Tell me what happens in the show when ya get back.”

“We will, dear.” Wickerbottom smiles softly.

Winona nods and heads back to camp. Wickerbottom heads up to where the other Survivors are. The three performers are backstage, preparing for their performance while the audience waits patiently.

Wigfrid eventually walks onto the stage, papyrus sheets in hand.

She clears her throat and sets the stage.

From her throne, the Shadow Queen looks on.

On with her show…

Wigfrid reads:

“A small, lönging röse, barely illuminated”

“Desires tö be free”

“Tö see the bright rays and blöösöms in blööm”

“But önly in dusk and dark döst this röse lay…”

Wes walks out from behind the stage, a rose is his hand. He stands in center stage, standing as tall as he can without tripping. He holds the rose up high. His eyes are closed. His expression looks to be dismayed, to properly convey the emotions of the rose.

Wigfrid continues:

“'Hear ye, hear ye!'”

“The röse called öut”

Wes opens his eyes and begins to slide around left and right dramatically, slowly waving the rose around, enacting the rose calling out for someone to free it.

“But these tries and cries önly fell tö wisps”

“Nöt tö be heard”

“Sö did the heavens pröclaim”

Wolfgang appears from stage right and dramatically walks across the stage. Wes slides in Wolfgang’s direction and continues to wave the rose. Wolfgang doesn’t notice and Wes sadly slumps a bit. He moves back to center stage, and takes on the same pose he did before.

“The darkness seemingly förever stays”

“Nöt a single dröp of light in the fray”

“The rose calls and calls”

“But nö öne cares to hear it’s plea”

Wes opens his eyes again and begins to slide and sway the rose as he did before. He eventually stops and moves back to center stage. He curls up into a ball, standing on the tip of his toes, still holding the rose high.

“The röse begins tö wilt, withöut barely any life in it”

“It begins tö fall, the petals, the leaves”

“The röse cöntinues tö weep and plea”

“But nö öne dares tö help this pöör söul be free”

Unexpectedly to the performers, the rose begins to actually wilt. Wigfrid takes notice of this, but ignores it.

“All but öne vöice dares tö speak höwever”

“'Öh, dear little röse.' The voice calls”

Wes perks his up to face stage right.

“'I can be öf assistance.' The voice beckoned”

“'I can give yöu new life.'”

“'Life that has nöt a need för the light.'”

Wes perks up even more, still holding the rose up high.

“'I can shöw you a life…'”

“'A life beyönd the light.'”

“'The darkness will care för yöu.'”

“'Caress yöu.'”

“Yöu need nöt wait any lönger.'”

Wes stays perked up for a bit longer, before reeling back a bit, as if he were nervous.

“'Öh, fret nöt, little röse.'”

“'För the darkness is welcöming.'”

“'The darkness wishes nö harm.'”

“'Their önly desire…'”

“'Bring the light tö push back the dark.'”

Wes perks up a bit before walking a tad forward. He holds the rose out stage right, indicating that the rose wishes to take the offer.

“'…Nöw, let the darkness in…'”

“'Let it take yöu'.”

“'Let Them blanket you with Their light.'”

Wes reels back. He stumbles back to center stage and falls to his knees, still holding out the wilted rose.

Wolfgang, trying not to be seen, covers Wes in black tarp of some kind. Just as Wes is covered, the wind around the area begins to pick up.

The Survivors aren’t sure why.

It felt so coincidental, almost as if it was planned.

Wolfgang goes up behind Wes and pulls the tarp off of him.

The rose is no longer wilted. It’s also become black.

“'…Rise, little röse…' The vöice calls”

Wes slowly rises up rose still in his hand, his head facing down.

“'…The darkness…'”

“'Öh, höw it has changed yöu…'”

“'Höw it has bröught yöu new life…'”

“'…A new light…'”

Wes then picks up his head. He has a malicious smirk on his face.

He then lowers his upper body and then dramatically throws the rose into the air. He catches the rose in his mouth.

He then takes a bow.

Wolfgang and Wigfrid run to Wes’ side, also taking a bow.

The audience of Survivors begins clapping and cheering. The three performers rise up and look at each other proudly.

All while the Shadow Queen looks on, a malicious smirk on her face and a sinister gleam in her eyes.

From the Stage floor, a black and thorny vine erupts.

The three performers have barely any time to react as they are all suddenly picked up by the vine and dangled in the air.

The cheering from the Survivors quickly turns into gasps of shock.

“Agh! Döst this be the wörk of the Shadöw Queen!?” Wigfrid questions.

“Argh! Let Wolfgang go, prickly vine! HRAGH!!” Wolfgang shouts, squirming in the vines grip, trying to break free.

Wes is attempting to break free as well, but is struggling to move around.

“EVERYONE!!” Wilson declares. “We need to get back to camp! Find any weapon you can find!” He then looks back at the performers. “Hang in there! We’ll be back for you!”

Each of the Survivors heads off back to camp to find a weapon, along with alert the three other Survivors still there.

The performers all try to break free, but to no avail. Each of their sanities begin to drop rapidly.

From behind the thorny vine, prickly shadow hands rise up from the ground and pry into their heads. They all wince as the shadow hands enter their heads.

They all black out. Their heads limp forward, seemingly lifeless.

…

Wigfrid is the first to wake up, still in her Roseate outfit. She jolts upward, looking ready for a fight.

She darts her head around. She’s awoken in some dark room. Fog lays dormant every which way.

She then spots her stage partners right next to her, still unconscious, also still in their Roseate outfits. Her face hardens with worry. She goes to her friends and tries to wake them.

“Ströngman!? Fair mime!? WAKE UP!!”

Nothing comes from them.

…She then seems to break character a bit.

“…Wölfgang? …Wesley?”

Nothing.

Tears begin to form in her eyes.

However…

Wolfgang begins to slowly wake up. Wigfrid gasps. She goes over to strongman.

“…Argh… where is Wolfgang…?”

Wigfrid smiles as her friend comes to.

Wolfgang’s eyes go over to Wigfrid. “…Stronglady… Wigfrid?”

“I’m right here, Wölfgang.”

Wolfgang slowly rises. He then gently hugs Wigfrid. Wigfrid hugs him back.

The two then hear something from next to them.

Wes has woken up. He’s sitting up, still very weak.

Wigfrid slowly walks over to Wes. “…Wesley… are yöu alright?” She asks, very concerned. Wolfgang also looks over to Wes, also bearing a concerned expression.

Wes looks to Wigfrid and shakes his head. He’s not okay.

Wigfrid then immediately hugs the poor mime to help him feel better. Wes gently hugs her back, closing his eyes.

Wolfgang then scoots over to them and hugs them tightly, but still gently.

They savor the moment.

Wolfgang eventually breaks the silence. “Wesley weak, I think.”

Wes slowly opens his eyes as his friends begin to pull away. He doesn’t look well. The shadow hand must’ve taken a toll on him.

Wolfgang slowly stands up, picking up Wes bridal style. Wigfrid gets up as well.

“We shöuld löök för a way öut.” Wigfrid suggests.

“We no have map.” Wolfgang brings up. “Which direction?”

“I dön’t knöw… just föllöw me.”

Wigfrid walks forward. Wolfgang follows. Wes is sleeping Wolfgang’s arms.

—

Wolfgang and Wigfrid walk aimlessly. Wes is still asleep in Wolfgang’s arms. Wolfgang isn’t tired of carrying Wes at all. Wigfrid doesn’t exactly know if they’re closer to an exit, or very far away from one.

Wes does eventually open his eyes though. He lifts a hand to Wolfgang’s shoulder. The strongman looks down at the mime. Wes is looking up at him. He stops walking.

“Wigfrid. Stop. Wesley need something.”

Wigfrid stops in her tracks and looks back to the strongman and mime intently. “What döes he need?”

Wes lifts his arm off of Wolfgang’s shoulder and points down. He wants down.

“Is sure?” Wolfgang questions.

Wes nods.

“Okay.” Wolfgang says. He slowly lets Wes down. He stumbles for a bit before steadying himself.

“Is alright?” Wolfgang asks, slightly concerned.

Wes looks to Wolfgang and nods. He’s still a bit weak, but he has enough energy to stand and walk.

Wigfrid looks at the two men and smiles softly.

The moment is ruined quickly however, as a voice can be heard.

“Poor things…” the voice says.

The voice sounds feminine. It has a very sinister tone to it.

Charlie.

“Whö göes there!?” Wigfrid declares.

Wes and Wolfgang cling to each other fearfully. They tremble a bit.

“Oooh… scary lady…” Wolfgang trembles.

“Awwww… you don’t need to be afraid. I just want to help!” Charlie says, although she isn’t actually there. She’s just a voice.

Wigfrid moves back to Wes and Wolfgang. She keeps close to them, and they keep close to her.

“I want to help you… 'Bring the light to push back the dark' as you put it.” Charlie says.

The three of them process her words.

They know exactly what she means.

All three of them suddenly begin to hear whispers.

All of them wince, and fall to their knees. They embrace each other to help keep the shadows away.

“Ahh, I see… keeping each other close… afraid of the dark, are we?” Charlie speaks up, a sinister tone to her voice.

Three shadow hands suddenly appear behind them. Each of them are pulled apart from each other. The hands then pull each of them into the ground.

—

Wigfrid suddenly awakens on an unlit stage. She’s back in her character costume.

She darts around the area, until a bright stage light shines directly in her face.

She hides her eyes from the light for a moment before looking into the large audience below the stage.

Instead of a cheering audience, it’s an upset one.

“You’re just not the same as you were!” One person shouts.

“You can do better than THAT!” Another person shouts.

Harsh criticisms quickly begin to flood Wigfrid’s mind. She tries to refuse them.

“I REFUSE TÖ FALL TO SUCH WÖRDS! YÖU CANNÖT HURT ME!!” Wigfrid shouts.

She begins to sing. Sing like she never had before. All to drown out the voices speaking to her.

Various phrases are screamed at her. The louder they get, the louder she gets.

Until her voice can no longer take it.

She still tries not to give up, but her voice only cracks up.

The voices become increasingly louder.

“IS THAT REALLY ALL YOU CAN DO!?”

“ACTING REALLY ISN’T YOUR STRONG SUIT ANYMORE!”

“WHY DON’T YOU JUST GIVE UP ON ACTING!?”

More harsh comments are thrown at her. At this point, they aren’t even criticisms anymore.

Wigfrid slowly backs away, trying to avoid the deafening voices.

But she can’t.

She can’t handle the pressure anymore.

She sits down and curls into a ball. She begins to weep.

She eventually lets the darkness take her.

All to stop these voices.

To set that little rose free.

The darkness envelopes her. She then disappears in a puff of shadow.

—

Wolfgang awakens in the center of a circus tent, now wearing his unitard and black boots.

He looks around. He can barely see a thing.

Until a spotlight suddenly shines down on him.

One of the ringmasters of the circus he worked in appears, also below a spotlight.

“Everyone!” The ringmaster declares. “Feast your eyes upon the incredible strongman!”

The crowd roars.

Wolfgang looks on into the crowd of people. He smiles confidently and flexes his muscles.

Suddenly, a dumbbell appears below Wolfgang, he looks down at it, a little confused, but also very confident in himself.

“Is all you got, scary lady? Hah! Is nothing!” Wolfgang then readies himself to pick up the dumbbell.

He attempts to pick it up.

But he can’t lift it.

Wolfgang is very confused. He tries again.

He simply cannot pick it up.

The ringmaster looks nervous. The crowd begins to boo.

“What a rip-off!”

“It’s fake!”

“There’s no incredible strongman!”

Wolfgang tries continuously to pick up the dumbbell, but he can’t. Random objects begin getting thrown at Wolfgang.

The voices quickly begin getting louder. Wolfgang gives up on trying to pick up the dumbbell and covers his ears. This barely helps, as the voices continue to get louder.

Wolfgang sits on the ground and curls up into a ball. He begins to weep.

The voices continue to get louder.

He eventually lets the darkness take him.

All to stop these voices.

To set that little rose free.

The darkness envelopes him. He then disappears in a puff of shadow.

—

Wes suddenly wakes up, back in his normal mime attire.

He’s not sure where he is. He looks around, but can’t see a thing.

He gets up and continues to look around.

Suddenly, familiar faces begin to fill the room.

“That’s it! GET OUT OF MY ICE RINK!” Says a former boss of Wes’. He was an ice skater once.

“What’s taking you so long? Why can’t you just paint and be done with it?” Says a customer who Wes once painted for.

“No, no, no! Non! Your movement is so wrong! …You know what? I’m done with you. OUT!” Says Wes’ old ballet teacher.

“What do you mean the pieces keep falling apart!? I’m done with you. GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK!” Says a client Wes had gotten the chance to make sculptures for.

Many voices came flooding in, most of them came from people he didn’t even know.

Each of them filling his head. Saying horrible things to him.

“You’re a burden!”

“You can’t do anything right!”

“You’re just a blight on this world.”

Many people begin filling the room. Wes almost has nowhere to back up to.

Then, something suddenly taps at his head.

Wes picks a hand up and realizes he’s becoming trapped in an invisible box, it’s roof pushing down against his head.

Wes tries to push the walls away, but he can’t. The box squishes him. He’s eventually barely able to move.

The box eventually becomes so small that he can barely fit in it. Barely breathe in it.

The voices continue to become louder.

He begins to weep.

He eventually lets the darkness take him.

All to stop these voices.

To set that little rose free.

The darkness envelopes him. He then disappears in a puff of shadow.

…

- Meanwhile, with the Survivors -

Each of the Survivors had picked up their weapons and light sources and headed back to the Stage to save the performers.

Only to realize that they had disappeared.

They’ve separated into groups. Each group was give the task to find one of the performers and bring that performer back to camp.

Woodie, Winona, and Wickerbottom look for Wigfrid.

Wilson, Wendy, and Webber look for Wolfgang.

WX, Willow, and Maxwell look for Wes.

—

Wilson walks forward while the two children walk behind him.

“I hope Mr. Wolfgang is okay…” Webber says, concerned.

“Death is a part of life, Webber.” Wendy says.

“Don’t say that!” Webber cried. “Mr. Wolfgang is very strong! He has to be okay! Right Mr. Wilson?”

“We can only hope so.” Wilson responds. “He may be tough, but he isn’t the brave type.”

Webber lets his head down a bit. “Yeah… but I’m keeping my hopes up!” Webber picks his head back up, determined.

“Hope can only get you so far.” Wendy quietly says.

Webber still heard her though. He shoots his 8 eyes her, pouting.

Wendy looks to Webber and shrugs.

Webber turns his head forward and crosses his arms.

“…Sorry.” Wendy apologizes.

Webber then looks to Wendy and smiles. “It’s okay.”

Suddenly rustling can be heard.

The three of them shine their torches around. They catch something floating around, but they can’t get a go look at it.

“Wolfgang? Show yourself! We need to get you and the others back to camp!” Wilson speaks.

“…No…” A familiar voice says. The three notice the voice’s thick Russian accent.

“Wolfgang… with the shadows… I don’t want to leave…” Wolfgang says.

Wilson puts away his torch for a moment. He notices a shadow in the bushes. The shadow looks to be that of Wolfgang.

Wilson squints. “…What in the world? …No, you are coming with us!” Wilson takes his torch back out.

A loud screeching is heard from the bushes.

The three Survivors cover their ears.

“What was that? Was that Mr. Wolfgang!?” Webber asks Wilson.

“…It looked like him… but it didn’t act like him…” Wilson responds.

“Maybe he was taken by a Shadow Creature.” Wendy suggests.

Wilson speaks up again. “Wolfgang! Why do you like the shadows? I thought you didn’t like the dark?”

“This dark… is nice… comforting…” Wolfgang responds, although he can’t be seen. “…Make the screams… go away…”

“��Screams…?” Wilson whispers to himself.

Another screech is heard. The three Survivors wince.

“…Screams… painful… they hurt… I no like them…” Wolfgang responds.

“You… remind me of them… the screams…” Wolfgang says.

“Huh!?” Webber shouts, worried.

“…No… get… away… from Wolfgang!” The voice shouts.

A shadow Wolfgang appears from the bushes and pushes Wilson backward. He falls to his back.

“Mr. Wilson!” Webber shouts, worried. “Mr. Wolfgang! This isn’t like you!”

“…What’s gotten into you!?” Wilson shouts.

“…Scary… they scream at me…” Wolfgang trembles.

“Wolfgang, we can help you! Just come with us!” Wilson pleas.

As Wilson’s sanity begins to drain, he can whispers coming from Wolfgang, although they aren’t actually spoken.

“…Stop… I AM mighty! I am…!” The whispers plea.

“…I hear something.” Wilson says. “Whispers…”

“Whispers of the deceased?” Wendy asks.

“No… they’re pleas… I can hear Wolfgang’s voice but he’s not actually speaking…” Wilson responds.

“What do they say, Mr. Wilson?” Webber asks, curiously.

“It’s as if he’s talking to someone… 'I AM mighty! I am!' they say.”

Wolfgang’s eyeholes widen in shock. “…No…” He then disappears into the night.

The three look to the bushes as Wolfgang disappears.

“…What’re we gonna do?” Webber asks.

“Hm… Wickerbottom or Maxwell may know… follow me.”

The three walk deeper into the forest to find where Wickerbottom’s group went.

—

In another part of the forest, WX, Willow, and Maxwell hold their torches out, looking for Wes.

“Maybe if we burn down these trees we’ll find him.” Willow suggests.

“Willow, no.” Maxwell retorts. “We can’t risk hurting anyone. The others will be all over us.”

“UUGGGGHHHHH FIIIIIIIINE!” Willow complains. With her dwindling sanity, she really wants to burn something.

“HAND ME YOUR LIGHTER, MEATSACK.” WX speaks up. “I’LL COMMIT ARSON FOR YOU. I WANT TO DESTROY SOMETHING.”

“Sure, you can take it.” She pulls out her lighter. “The others’ll understand why you did it.” Willow says.

Maxwell jolts his head back to look at WX, a glare of fury in his eyes. “WHAT DID I JUST SAY!?” Maxwell sighs. “You people are insufferable.”

Suddenly, rustling is heard. The three hold up their torches and look around, occasionally catching a glimpse of something, but they aren’t able to make out what.

“SOMETHING IS HERE. IN THE BUSHES.” WX comments. “I WANT TO KILL IT.”

“WX no!” Maxwell retorts. “We cannot allow ANYONE to get hurt.”

“WHY MAKES YOU THINK I CARE?”

Willow responds the WX’s question. “Maxwell’s arrogance. Now can it, tin can!” Willow harshly whispers to WX.

Before WX and Maxwell can react to Willow’s words, they see something peeking from the bushes.

It’s Wes, but he looks to be made of shadow.

Willow and Maxwell put their torches down a bit. Willow has to force WX’s arm down so the torch can be laid low.

“…What in the world…?” Maxwell questions.

“…Wes? What are you doing in there? Why do you look like that?” Willow asks.

Suddenly, Willow and Maxwell can hear whispers coming from Wes. They’re aware that he can’t speak, so they presume the whispers are his thoughts.

“…Go… away… I like it here…” the whispers say. “The darkness… it keeps me away… from them…”

Willow looks at Wes, confused. “Nuh-uh, you’re coming back to camp with us! We aren’t leaving you here!”

“ARE YOU HALLUCINATING OR SOMETHING?” WX teases. “IS THAT FIREWOOD SMOKE BEGINNING TO ROT YOUR BRAIN CELLS?”

“Oh, SHUT UP!” Willow says. “…I’m hearing whispers though… I think it’s because my sanity’s low.”

“I’m hearing them too actually.” Maxwell speaks up.

The whispers suddenly speak up again. “…No… don’t… I don’t want… to go with you… I like it here…”

“Stop fooling around!” Willow says. “I know damn well you don’t like being in the dark!”

“Willow.” Says Maxwell. “You’re not helping.”

Willow grumbles to herself.

Maxwell steps forward. “…You never seemed to like to the dark… why has this changed?”

The whispers speak up. “I… like the shadows… they comfort me… protect me…”

Maxwell’s brows furrow a bit. “…Protect you from what?”

“…The screams… I don’t like them.” The whispers say.

Maxwell suddenly begins to hear more whispers. It’s as if Wes is speaking to a different person.

“…Stop… I’m not a burden… they care about me…”

Maxwell’s eyes widen a bit.

Wes’ eyeholes look at Maxwell in shock. He said to much. He flees into the night.

“…What…? Did you hear something?” Willow asks.

“…Whispers… I think he thinks he’s a burden.”

Willow’s eyes widen a bit. “Oh… is there any way we can help him?”

“…Ms. Wickerbottom may know something. Follow me.” Maxwell leads Willow and WX out of where they currently are to look for Wickerbottom’s group.

“THAT WAS VERY UNEVENTFUL.” Says WX, disappointed.

“Oh, shut up.” Willow responds bitterly.

—

Wilson’s group continues to walk through the forest, looking for Wickerbottom’s group. They aren’t fully sure of where they are. They occasionally pick a few flowers to help with their sanity.

“Wickerbottom? Woodie? Winona?” Wilson calls out.

“I hope they’re okay…” Webber says.

Wendy stays silent, not wanting to upset Webber.

Suddenly, another voice can be heard.

“Hey! Ms. Wickerbottom! Where did you go!? We need you!”

Wilson turns his head back.

It’s Willow.

Her group is also looking for Wickerbottom’s group.

“What luck!” Wilson exclaims. He looks back to Webber and Wendy. “Follow me.”

Wilson leads and the kids follow behind as they approach the voice.

—

Willow and her group tread through the forest, looking for where Wickerbottom’s group could’ve gone. Each of them went around picking flowers to being their sanity.

“Hey! Ms. Wickerbottom! Where did you go!? We need you!” Willow calls out.

“THEIR PROBABLY DEAD SOMEWHERE. HA HA.” Says WX, amused.

“Oh, hush up.” Says Maxwell. “Ms. Wickerbottom and the others should be fine.”

“WHO SAYS THAT THEY DIDN’T DIE?” WX retorts.

“I did, bucket of bolts.” Maxwell talks back.

WX looks at Maxwell, offended. “I AM NO MERE BUCKET.” WX argues. “YOU’RE THE BUCKET. A BROKEN AND FRAIL ONE TOO. HA HA.”

“Jokes on you! I’m not made of metal!” Maxwell argues back.

“I COULD ANNIHILATE YOU EASILY. LIKE A BROKEN AND FRAIL BUCKET.”

“Try me.”

The magician and automation glare at each other.

“Hey!” Willow speaks up. “Shut up. Both of your comebacks suck by the way.”

Both Maxwell and WX look to face Willow, appalled. But before they can say anything, a few familiar faces appear near Willow. She darts her head over to the familiar faces.

“Hello! Are you all alright?” Wilson asks, popping out from a tree. Wendy and Webber also peek at Willow from behind Wilson.

Willow looks at Wilson. “Hey! Yeah, we’re fine. Just these bozos over here having a war.” Willow responds, then turns her head back to WX and Maxwell.

“Ah, of course they were.” Wilson responds, looking at Maxwell with a cocky look on his face.

“SHUT UP, INFERIOR MEATBAG FLESHSACK.” WX quips back to Wilson.

“Hush up, Higgsbury.” Maxwell responds, looking at Wilson bitterly.

Wilson looks back over to Willow. “We heard you from nearby. We’re looking for Wickerbottom too…Did you see Wes anywhere?”

“Kind of? He still looked like himself, but he was like a Shadow Creature.” Willow responds.

“We saw something similar actually. It was Wolfgang.” Wilson speaks up after Willow.

Willow speaks up. “I wonder if the others have found Wigfrid yet… if she’s anything like Wes and Wolfgang, then she may be a shadow too.”

Suddenly, a wooshing sound is heard.

Each of the Survivors, save for Webber and Wendy, who are hiding behind the adults, ready their torches.

They see a figure quickly approach.

“RAAAAAAAAHH!!” The figure exclaims.

The figure quickly reveals itself to be Wigfrid. Similar to the other performers, she looks as if she was made of shadow.

“TÖ VALHALLA WITH THEE, SÖULS ÖF THE LIGHT!!” Wigfrid declares, fully in character.

Suddenly, from behind the six Survivors, the sound of a raging Canadian man grows closer.

Woodie charges forward, Lucy gripped firmly in one hand, a torch in the other. The six Survivors take notice of his approach and quickly dodge. Woodie continues to charge toward Wigfrid.

Wigfrid notices the charging Woodie and readies herself. “RAAHH!! FÖR THE QUEEN! FÖR MY FRIENDS!! TÖ VALHALLA WITH THEE, FÖÖLISH SCUM!!”

Woodie eventually reaches Wigfrid, shining the torch in her face.

Wigfrid winces and moves back a bit. “I am NÖT göing döwn withöut a fight! Let us test thine strength, lumberjack!”

“Eh, I don’t mind testin' NOTHIN'!” Woodie says, confidently.

“Be careful, Woodie.” Says a slightly concerned Lucy.

“I’ll be fine, Luce. Nothin' to worry aboot!” Woodie reassures.

“MY SPEAR SHALL PASS THRÖUGH THINE HEART! TÖ ARMS!” Wigfrid declares.

“Heh, already ahead of ya, lass.” Woodie says, with a confident look on his face.

The two begin their bout. Woodie swings Lucy around a bit, while also flailing his torch around just in case Wigfrid gets too close. Wigfrid strikes multiple times, but can barely reach Woodie.

The whispers in her head slowly eat at her.

“I AM a gööd warriör… a great actress… yöu just dön’t understand great talent when yöu see it…”

The other six Survivors watch the spectacle in awe and confusion.

“…What?” Wilson questions.

“I don’t know either…” Willow speaks up after Wilson.

“Hey! Are y’all alright?” Says a familiar voice from behind the six Survivors.

It’s Winona. And Wickerbottom is behind her.

“Ms. Wickerbottom! Ms. Winona!” Webber cheers. “You’re alright!”

“I AM SURPRISED.” WX speaks up. “UNFORTUNATE. I THOUGHT YOU DIED.”

Maxwell looks to WX, glaring at them. He decides not to speak up on it. They all have larger matters to attend to.

“We never found Wigfrid. Before you all did.” Says Wickerbottom. “Woodie had a heard a shout nearby, and thought it may have been Wigfrid.” Wickerbottom then looks over to the scuffle occurring between Woodie and Wigfrid.

“And he was right.” Says Winona. “Why does she look like that though? She looks like a Shadow Creature…”

“We aren’t sure.” Replies Wilson. “My group found Wolfgang, and Willow’s group found Wes, but both of them were in a similar Shadow Creature-like state…”

“Hmm…” Wickerbottom enters her world of thought, but before she can speak up, Maxwell begins to speak.

“I can only think of one person who could’ve caused this change.” Says Maxwell.

The realization hits everyone rather quickly.

“…Charlie…” Winona says, saddened.

“Oh! When we found Wes, Maxwell heard Wes saying some kind of whispers. They said how he felt he wasn’t a burden.” Says Willow.

“I heard something similar when we found Wolfgang actually!” Says Wilson. “Wolfgang’s whispers… 'I AM mighty! I am!'. that’s what I heard.”

“I see…” Says Wickerbottom. “Does Wigfrid have any whispers?”

“Hmm…” Maxwell tries to focus. And listen.

Then he hears it.

“I AM a gööd warriör… a great actress… yöu just dön’t understand great talent when yöu see it…”

Maxwell recites Wigfrid’s whispers. “…'I AM a gööd warriör… a great actress… yöu just dön’t understand great talent when yöu see it…'. Interesting.”

“…Oh, dear…” Says Wickerbottom, concerned. “The Queen must’ve used their weaknesses to her advantage…”

“Manipulated them…” Says Winona. “…Poor fellas… is there a way we can help them, Grams?”

“Hmm… maybe one of my books could help.” Wickerbottom suggests. “Lux Aeterna Redux. Bring the light to push back the dark.”

“I feel like we may need more than that.” Willow says. “They’re very reluctant to leave the shadows.”

“Hm… I think I can help them in that department, they just need some reassurance.” Wickerbottom suggests.

“Sounds like a plan!” Winona responds.

“How are we gonna lure them though? They’re never going to come to us.” Willow asks again.

“…I don’t think we will need to lure them.” Wickerbottom, looks over to Maxwell.

Maxwell looks at Wickerbottom wide-eyed before realizing what she means.

The Codex.

“Call Woodie, Maxwell.” Says Wickerbottom. “We’re heading back to camp.”

Maxwell nods. The other Survivors head back to camp.

Maxwell goes over to Woodie and drags him away from Wigfrid. Maxwell pulls Woodie by his suspenders. Wigfrid, surprisingly, doesn’t follow them. Instead, she disappears into the night.

“Maxwell! What’re doin', eh? I was busy!” Woodie asks, very confused.

“We’re heading back to camp. We already have an idea of how the save the performers. One of Wickerbottom’s books… and some reassurance.” Maxwell responds.

“Ah, I see.” Woodie looks back into the forest as he and Maxwell rush out of it. “I call it a tie, lass!”

- Later, deep in the forest -

Wigfrid, still a shadow, lurks around, preparing to attack any new threats.

Rustling can be heard as she walks.

She readies her spear. “Fair mime? Ströngman?”

Wes pops his head out from a bush. So does Wolfgang, who was right next to Wes. Both of them remain as shadows.

“Ah. Yöu’re böth alright.” If she could smile, she would, but she doesn’t have a mouth.

“…Yes.” Says Wolfgang. “…For most part.”

Wes nods in response to Wigfrid.

“We shöuld be fine, nöw that they’re göne.” Says Wigfrid.

From behind Wes and Wolfgang, a few shadow hands begin to appear.

“Agh! Löök öut!” Wigfrid exclaims.

Wes and Wolfgang quickly dodge the hands.

“…Them… they’re pulling us back…” Wolfgang trembles.

Wes’ whispers can be heard by the other two performers. “We can’t… go back…”

“We wön’t gö back!” Wigfrid exclaims. “Cöme alöng!”

The three of them dart forward, trying to evade the hands.

They eventually are halted when the hands surround the the three of them. The hands quickly grab hold of the performers. Each of them squirm, but are unable to break free. The hands go into the ground and transport them near the Survivor’s camp.

Wickerbottom stands directly in front of the pair, the Lux Aeterna Redux in her hands. Maxwell stands nearby, holding the open Codex in the air. A few lanterns are placed around to help keep Charlie at bay. The other Survivors look on at the spectacle before them, seriousness in their eyes.

“…YÖU…!” Wigfrid shouts at Wickerbottom. “FREE US AT ÖNCE!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Says Wickerbottom. “This is for the better of each of you.”

“Is not true!” Wolfgang retorts. “The screams… they only hurt us…”

“I understand, but these fears can be combated. You don’t have to give up and sink into the dark.” Wickerbottom states.

“You just need some light to replace the darkness within you.”

Wickerbottom opens up the book in her hands. The book floats into the air and the pages begin turning.

The area is immediately lit up. Each of the Survivors, including the shadows, wince at the sudden brightness.

The shadows, still in the hand’s grip, have mostly stopped squirming. Their eyeholes shut closed.

“All you need is reassurance.” Says Wickerbottom.

Wickerbottom looks over to Wigfrid. “Wigfrid, you are an amazing warrior and actress. Don’t let anyone get in your way. You’re right, some people simply don’t understand great acting for what it is.” Wickerbottom says, a slight bit of confidence in her voice.

Wigfrid opens her eyeholes a bit. She looks to Wickerbottom, thankfully. She then looks to her fellow performers, a bit concerned.

Wickerbottom looks over to Wolfgang. “Wolfgang, you are indeed mighty, mighty as you can be! Don’t let others tear you down, be the best you can be.” Wickerbottom says softly.

Wolfgang opens his eyeholes a bit. He and Wigfrid share a look of glee. They then look to Wes with concern. He has his eyes sealed shut.

Wickerbottom looks to Wes. “Wes, you are not a disgrace. You exist for a reason. And we deeply care about you. We don’t care how much we have to baby you or accommodate for you. We are willing to help you. And we love you very, very much.” Wickerbottom says softly, a tear almost coming to her eye.

Wes opens up his eyeholes a bit. He looks to his fellow performers, happiness in his eyeholes. They each share a happy look and then look back to Wickerbottom.

“Now…” Wickerbottom begins. “Let the light back in. Let the light replace the darkness.” She says in a soft but stern tone.

Light quickly begins to envelope the area, especially the three performers. They are each basked in light, not even really visible anymore. Each of the Survivors shut their eyes and wait for the light to ease.

The light eventually begins to fade, and the performers become more visible, each of them back in their normal attires.

Once the bright light ceases, the Survivors open their eyes.

The performers lay on the ground unconscious. The Survivors go up to them, checking to see if they’re okay.

Each of them slowly come to. The Survivors move back to give them space.

“Öh… what?” Wigfrid asks. She slowly sits up.

“…Head feels funny… what happened?” Wolfgang asks, also slowly sitting up.

Wes also slowly sits up, rubbing his head.

Wickerbottom walks up to the three of them and gets to her knees. “…Are you all alright?” She asks.

“We’re fine… I think.” Wigfrid says, still a bit dazed.

Each of the Survivors notice the sky getting brighter. It’s almost day.

“Oh, dear. The sun is rising.” Says Wickerbottom.

“What!?” Wilson questions. “We spent all night doing THAT!? What a night!”

“I think that night was a little longer than normal.” Says Willow.

“It was likely Charlie’s doing.” Says Maxwell. “She was watching us the whole time I bet.”

Wickerbottom then looks back to the performers. “Well, I’m glad you’re all alright.”

“Wolfgang glad too!” Wolfgang suddenly declares. He gets up and picks up Wes and Wigfrid, almost bear hugging them. “Wolfgang glad we’re back!”

“Ströngman!” Says Wigfrid. “Nöt sö tight!”

“Oh, sorry. Heh.” Wolfgang lets the two go. They stumble a bit before steadying.

“Tis alright, dearest ströngman.” Says Wigfrid, smiling at Wolfgang.

Wickerbottom, although a little concerned for Wes and Wigfrid, smiles. She speaks up again. “You all should probably get some rest… but before that, find something to eat first. I don’t want you all sleeping on empty stomachs. You likely haven’t eaten in awhile.”

“We shall attend tö that.” Says Wigfrid. “But what aböut you all?”

“We’ll likely sleep for a few hours. Just enough. You all can rest for the entire day if you’d like.” Says Wickerbottom says.

“Tis fine by us!” Says Wigfrid. “As löng as yöu get the rest yöu need. Yöu all föught vigöröusly för us tönight. We are very grateful för yöur assistance.”

Wolfgang looks to the librarian with a bright smile on his face. Wes nods enthusiastically. Both of them agree with Wigfrid.

“And as long as you rest, I’ll be happy.” Wickerbottom responds with a warm smile on her face.

Suddenly, stomach growls can be heard.

They’ve come from Wes.

He looks down, embarrassed. Wigfrid and Wolfgang giggle a bit.

“Dön’t be embarrassed, fair mime!” Says Wigfrid “Yöu can’t help that hunger gets tö yöu.” She pats Wes’ shoulder. He softly smiles back to Wigfrid.

“Speaking of food…” Wickerbottom begins. “Let us all find something to eat.”

Each of the Survivors head back to base to look for food. Various Survivors huddle around crock pots, ready to cook up whatever they found in the ice boxes. WX attempts to pick out a couple gears from Winona’s stash, but she stops them before they could snag any.

Wes, Wolfgang, and Wigfrid all sit together by the unlit fire pit once their food is prepared. They exchange various things between each other. Jokes, quips, and opening up to each other a bit more. They also make the note of never performing on that stage again.

Eventually, everyone finishes eating and enters their tents. The three performers don’t really plan to be up when the others are. They’ve been through a lot recently, and it’s what Wickerbottom would want, as they are very grateful for her help.

Wolfgang sits onto the bedroll that each of the performers share. Wes goes to Wolfgang’s right and Wigfrid goes to his left. The three snuggle up in the bedroll and cover themselves with a beefalo coat blanket. Each of them lay down. Wes and Wigfrid lean against Wolfgang’s body.

All of them begin to slowly drift off to sleep.

- END -

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