#defensive ducky

[the-cookies-of-darkness]

Jawbreaker

Copper barks excitedly as he gets his own rubber ducks. one is his chew toy while a smaller one was on his head like a cute hat.

"Oh copper."

Ducky quacks aggressively and starts swatting Copper with its rubber wings. Basically Ducky is being as aggressive as a goose. Be careful because next level is Swan level.

"I warned you." Dark Choco says.

[marchsfreakshow]

I'm so sorry to any of my irls who see my posts 😭

[endermanfighter5k]

Little quacker fella

[sinvulkt-moeta]

Plot shield.

i love characters with an innate ability to just fucking survive

bestie you should be dead but you arent fucking how

[arolesbianism]

The time has come. I am having thoughts about from the top au Loop

[keroppidreams]

gin: hey im going on a dangerous mission. klara: not like that you arent!!

flash forward to gin being in a difficult fight and his bokuto breaks so he pulls out one of these:

[our-inspire-verse]

He was like "DON'T. look up ship art of my husband." And i said. "Ny~okAy!" And searched ship art of Our man. ❤️

[marsvillee]

HOLY FUCKKKKKKKK 😵‍💫

𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲

lee hyunjae x gn!reader

1.3k words, suggestive, kissing/making out, he's uhm shirtless pffft 🤣, swearing, est. relationship au

a/n: idk how this ended up in my google docs istg 🧎🏻‍♀️

The bathroom door opened with a trail of steam wafting out, and clung to the polished wood floors of yours and Lee Hyunjae's bedroom. You glanced up only once with the sort of nonchalance you had been employing this entire day, eyes flickering up to the man emerging from the heat for a second and no longer, before returning to the book propped open in your hands.

You felt his eyes on you, the weight of his stare so blatant that you almost—almost—gave in.

"Yn-ie," he hummed in amusement, his hand braced on the bathroom doorknob.

"Hm?" In your head, you had to enunciate every word on the page to keep focus. Or at least, some semblance of focus.

He gave a soft chuckle, letting go of the knob and disappearing into the closet just beside the bathroom door. Your pounding heart sobered just a little when his gaze left you, and you were able to regain focus. You just needed to last until morning, and you would win the stupid, light-hearted bet the two of you had made last night. It was something about Hyunjae being as distracting as he was. If you could last a day without giving into him… well, you got bragging rights. Again, it was something stupid, it was immature… and yet, the two of you were taking it far too seriously.

You had a feeling he was about to ramp it up though.

The closet light turned off and you heard Hyunjae's feet as he padded his way across the room over to where you were propped up against the bed's headboard.

You still didn't pay him any mind as he settled on the edge of the bed right next to you, the mattress dipping slightly as he took a seat.

His hand came down softly over your upper right thigh, his palm warm and firm. You were hyper-aware of the fact his thumb was rubbing circles into your skin and his other fingers were curled around the inside of your thigh. "Hey, baby. You listening to me?"

On instinct, you lifted your head, and you almost gave yourself away right then and there.

Dear fucking god, the visual in front of you would have brought you to your knees in an instant if not for the stupid bet. Here he was—dark brown curls messy and damp, his legs clad in a pair of low-hanging gray sweats, his hard and carved chest bare for you to fully adm—

Focus.

You caught yourself, stumbling only once. You met his laughing eyes. "Of course I'm listening," you sniffed, smiling. "Have a nice shower?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Missed you though. There were some places that needed your touch, babe."

"Ah, is that so?" You teased, eyes returning to your book. What was going on again? Something about Moriarty striking—

Your breath hitched as Hyunjae suddenly rose up and threw one of his legs over you. You held your breath the entire time it took for him to slowly mount himself over you, straddling your thighs, until all you had was an eyeful of hard-earned muscle and flesh. You swallowed, hard.

"How's the book?" He asked with a laugh in his voice, all while bracing his hand against the headboard behind you and peering down at the pages of your book with you.

You stammered, "Fantastic."

"Really?" He lifted his eyes to yours. And goddamn it Hyunjae, he held that eye contact as he brought his thumb to his mouth and licked the pad of it. He then used it to flip the page backward. "I think you might need to read it over again."

A nervous feeling bubbled up in your chest—you were not about to lose this bet. Not when you were so close to winning. "Want me to read it to you?"

"Sure."

"Do you mind?" You gestured to his position on top of you. Dear god, why was it so fucking hot all of a sudden—?

Hyunjae's mouth spread into a wolfish grin, dark eyes blown wide sparkling with utter mischief and triumph. He knew he had you. "No, I don't mind at all. Go on, honey; I'm very comfortable."

The expression on your face probably read something along the lines of ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? And it only spurred Hyunjae on more as he licked his lips between grins. He leaned back a bit then, but only to casually stretch his arms over his head, that eye contact never breaking. (Okay, well, it broke when you went to watch the literal muscles in his arms flex—)

"You're being unfair," you grunted. The book in your hands lowered to your lap.

He giggled then, cute and giddy. It was a terrible contrast to his physical appearance. "All's fair in love and war, baby. Is this you waving your white flag?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not a chance." To be fair, as soon as he sat down without a shirt on, you had lost. But you weren't about to admit that; he had to work for it.

His eyebrow cocked upward, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he leaned forward again. His thumb met the corner of your lips. "You're drooling."

"You're so annoying," you muttered. But you didn't push him away.

In fact, you let him trace your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. He bit his own, his thumb pressing into your lip and watching intently at how plump it was. "You love it," he murmured back at you.

You did. You really fucking did.

"Can I kiss you and we call it even?"

Your eyebrows flew upward, book discarded as you crossed your arms over your chest. "Absolutely not."

He pouted. "Aw, so I still kiss you and I win then?"

"Hyunjae," you said through a small laugh. Oh, you were so going to lose, but why did you hate it and love it at the same time?

He beamed then, hand moving to cup your cheek and caress your cheek. "I haven't gotten to kiss you all day, baby. Give a man a break, hm? A little mercy."

Your mouth widened, albeit unwillingly, into an embarrassingly large grin, partially out of disbelief. "Mercy? Oh, you want to talk about mercy?"

Hyunjae laughed. "Yes! You literally left for work this morning without kissing me and I've been trying to think of all the ways you could make it up to me after I've won."

"You—" You huffed, speechless. Your brain was a glorified puddle at the moment. "And your first thought was to climb into my lap?"

"Technically, my first thought was the shirtless thing. And you can't blame me—whenever you climb into my lap, I can't help myself."

Your smile turned into something shy as you realized just how right he was.

Hyunjae cooed, puckering his lips as he grasped your chin. "Aw, baby's gone shy now, hm?"

You somehow found the strength to weakly brush his hand away. "I hate you."

"Mm, okay. Say I believe you. Can I kiss you?"

Oh, you were hitting yourself over the head—you sighed, pressing a hand to your forehead. "Fine."

He let out a delighted, little sigh, "Thank god." He wasted absolutely no time at all, bracing his palms against the bed on either side of your body to lean over your body and crush his mouth against yours. There was something admittedly satisfying about finally being able to feel home in a person once again.

Your arms came up around his neck and tugged him down to you, because if he wanted this, he would have to come to you. After all, he won the bet. But maybe you didn't care anymore.

Hyunjae's brows furrowed as he pressed himself harder against you, coaxing a hum of approval from your throat. Your toes curled at the dizzyingly perfect pressure of his lips against yours—his shampoo was suffocating your lungs, his hands now moved to grapple at your waist, your hips, to pin you down in place and anchor himself like a sailor gone overboard.

You gently nipped at his bottom lip, and he rewarded you with a soft moan. "I think—" he breathed haggardly between languid kisses, "—that we both win."

He tasted your laughter on his tongue, and it practically made him ascend. "You know what? I think you're right."

a/n: DKFNKS OKAY IN MY DEFENSE....... I HAVE NO DEFENSE.

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ethereal-engene @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @jcmdoll @winterchimez @kflixnet

[confused-wanderer]

Duke pavlovs everyone.

He wants to help out. He wants to give back. But what can he do? He can’t teach anything to them that they don’t already know. Heck, every time he tries offering help, by the time they finish saying what he could do, the problem ends up being solved anyways.

However, not anymore. He’s trying to listen and not speak, observe as is the detective way. And as the recent and relatively normal addition to the batfam, he comes to a startling conclusion.

None of them eat.

And by that, Duke doesn’t mean that they go without food because they survive without it, he means that they genuinely forget to eat for long periods of time due to stress, long hours or other factors, and since vigilate-ing has been more or less their whole lives, they’ve forgotten what hunger even feels like, unless they’re actively reminded of it.

So, every time Duke comes over, he mentions that he’s starving. Then he goes into great length to describe just how hungry it is and what he’s craving. Ten times out of ten, everyone’s stomachs start rumbling before the entire family stares at the fridge in hunger.

And little by little, he starts making sure they associate yellow with him, and him with hunger. Every time he visits he makes sure to always wear or bring something yellow with him. Rubber ducky, high lighter, you name it. He even leaves little trinkets around the house, insisting it’s to give a splash of colour.

And it fucking works.

The whole family is on a stakeout, Batman and Red Robin updating everyone in how it’s going when suddenly there’s a pause.

Nightwing: .. Guys? Hello?

Red Robin: .. uh-

Spoiler: ?? Hello?? Did your brain short circuit??

Red Robin: *soft mumbling*

Robin: ?? Father? Could you compensate for Drake’s incompetence again?

Batman: … The gang is wearing yellow.

Robin:

Nightwing:

Batman:

Spoiler:

Red Robin:

*Stomach grumbling noises echoing over comms*

Spoiler: alright I think we’ve seen enough, move in?

Nightwing: Yes please before I start eating my batons

Batman: I’ve bought a restaurant. We can eat there later. Move in on three.

Red Robin: why the fuck do I suddenly want to eat the sandwich someone just threw in the bin?

Red Hood : JESUS FUCKING CHRIST YOU BETTER NOT YOU FUCKING UNHYGENIC BASTARD-

——————— later —————

At the mansion

Damian:

Duke:

Damian:

Duke: ? You need something

Damian: You. You did this to us.

Duke: LISTEN IN MY DEFENSE I DIDN’T THINK ANYONE WAS STUPID ENOUGH TO WEAR YELLOW IF THEY’RE TRYNA COMMIT CRIME AT NIGHT

[chronicbeans]

Romantic Yandere Lucifer x Reader Headcanons

I've been tossing this idea around in my brain for days lol.

TW: Yandere Behavior, Obsessive and Possessive Thoughts, Panic and Anxiety, Depression, Blood and Injuries, Denial, Overprotective Behavior

• When he first met you, it was when he visited the Hazbin Hotel upon Charlie's request. You were sitting at the table with the rest of the staff and guests, acting the most... Well, normal out of all of them, besides Husk. You smiles and waved his way once Charlie mentioned your name.

• It wasn't like those fairy tales, where it is love at first sight. No, he had to talk to you, of course. After everybody else introduced themselves to him, you walk over to him, shake his hand, and introduce yourself. "Hello, your majesty! My name's (Y/N)! It's nice to meet you!" That's when he falls for you. Throughout the small conversation you both have, you treat him like... well, a normal person. Or, at least, as normal as you can treat the King of Hell, himself.

• The moment he leaves and returns home, he feels extremely guilty for falling for you. Especially since it was so quick, and for such a simple reason. He barely knows you! Why can't he stop thinking about you? He silently vows to never go back to the hotel, not because he doesn't support Charlie, but because he's scared of falling for you even more. However... Calling Charlie and asking about the Hazbin Hotel doesn't sound too bad, yes?

• Soon, asking about the hotel turns to asking about the people there... which, in turn, means asking about you. How have you been doing? Have you shown any interest in the activities and workshops at the hotel? What interests do you have. Of course, Lucifer asks the same questions about everybody else, to not seem suspicious, but he's mostly just interested in you...

• He only falls even more as he hears about you. Lucifer hates himself for it. So, he begins to distance himself, again. He goes back to making his rubber ducks, trying to distract himself from his thoughts about you. However, over time, his ducks slowly began having features that remind him of you. You like drawing? Duckie with a pencil and paper. Singing? Duckie that plays music. His mind can't escape you.

• Once the exterminators show, and the fight with Adam commences, he sees you again. Not in the best condition, either. The dust settles, Niffty absolutely brutalizes Adam, and now everybody is looking for you and Alastor. As Lucifer wanders the area in a frantic search for you, he happens to notice a battered hand sticking out from underneath some rubble. Moving it out of the way, he's now in a panic as he realizes it's you. You're alive, thankfully, albeit heavily injured and hanging on by a thread. That, and passed out.

• The next few minutes are spent with him becoming way too protective over you, holding you in his arms and becoming extremely defensive. His obsessive crush has finally reached more twisted levels, and he's mortified by the thought of letting you out of his sight. Even Charlie is starting to catch on that something is not quite... right about her dad. He's holding you tightly and not letting anybody come near you, despite the fact that you clearly need help. Then again, his angelic powers could probably be used to help you heal, but the point still stands. The only person who's allowed to come close is Charlie, and even then, he's keeping a close eye.

• He's now by your side constantly while you're recovering. He almost lost you! It's a very sudden change in his behavior, considering how he bottled up all of his feelings for you for so long... Nobody even knew he cared about you in specific, much less this much. Whenever you wake up in your bed, staring at the hotel, he's the first person you see. Whenever you fall asleep, he's the last thing you see. He's there throughout the entirety of the day, acting much more like your caregiver than your friend's dad. Bringing you food, getting you water, getting you some blankets and pillows... He's even taking care of changing your bloodied bandages out for new ones.

• At first, you just assumed that he was worried and wanted to help you recover. It'd make sense. You almost died, after all. The behavior doesn't stop after you're fully recovered, though... in fact, it gets worse, somehow. He makes sure that you aren't in danger, be it real or perceived. Somebody who he doesn't know talking to you is just as big of a threat in his eyes as somebody pointing a gun at your face. He's immediately standing by your side, glaring the stranger down.

• He may not be that intimidating, but he's the King of Hell. Many people know how strong he is, even if they don't find him to actually be intimidating to look at. So, they back off, usually. Those who don't get a brief look at his demon form, before getting knocked out. No, no... He doesn't kill them. He can't kill anybody when you are around. He'll wait until later.

• He's a yandere that would never cross any physical boundaries with you. He's spent years isolating himself from people, so as sad as it is to say, he's pretty used to not getting any sort of affection. He doesn't need compliments, hugs, or cuddles ( at least, that's what he tells himself). However, if and when you start showing affection towards him, he's going to need it constantly. He needs reassurance, comfort, a shoulder to cry on, somebody to give affection to... And you are now the only person he feels he's able to do so, with.

• He's going to want to own your soul, so be on the lookout for any tricks he might pull. Well, it's more correct to say he doesn't want to own your soul, but feels like he must. He doesn't like the idea of being in a relationship with such an intense power dynamic, but he's so frightened by the idea that Heaven might take you away, that he feels that he simply must own your soul. He feels that, if he does, it's less likely you'd even be able to go to Heaven, since you're technically owned by him. And he knows he's never going up. Even you just mentioning Heaven throws him into a panic... Don't say that word, alright?

[stuiie]

Happy Halloween - The Color of You

Words: 1084 Warnings: None Authors note: Since we're in the wrong season for TCOY, I put together this little one-shot for you! I’ve been super busy this weekend, so it's a bit short but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway!

You were late—catastrophically late—and you knew it as you sprinted down the sidewalk, trying your best to ignore the surprised stares from strangers. But it was impossible to avoid their looks with the bright yellow feathers sticking out in every direction. Still, you pressed on, making a heroic dash to Wanda and Natasha’s place, desperately hoping to blend into the Halloween crowd.

The second you burst through the door, you crashed right into Yelena, who took one look at you and exploded with laughter, doubling over as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Oh my god!” she choked, tears already forming at the corners of her eyes. “What… what are you supposed to be? A giant canary? Big Bird’s love child?” She gasped for air, holding her stomach as she shook with laughter.

You looked down, flushed with embarrassment, and tugged at the bright yellow costume. “It’s a duck costume,” you muttered, pulling the hood over your head a little more defensively. “Nat and Wanda wanted me to wear it,” you grumbled, making a small face as Yelena slid to the floor laughing hysterically. “Come on, it’s not that funny!”

“Oh, trust me Ducky, it’s even funnier than you think,” Yelena managed, practically rolling around with laughter. She pointed around the room where, of course, everyone was dressed in sleek, stylish, and effortlessly cool costumes. Even Yelena looked fierce in her assassin’s outfit complete with silver daggers. Meanwhile, you… looked like you’d waddled straight out of a children’s petting zoo, feeling the warm flush of embarrassment rise up your neck.

You were about to protest when you heard familiar footsteps approaching.

“What’s going on out here?” came Wanda’s voice, her tone as smooth and soothing as always. She stepped around the corner, her gorgeous sorceress costume catching the light, and froze the moment her eyes fell on you.

Oh no.

Wanda’s hand flew up to her mouth, her emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. A small smile curved her lips as she called out, “Natasha, you have to come see this!”

Seconds later, Natasha appeared, her dark, glittering assassin attire matching Yelena’s, every inch of her the picture of deadly elegance. When her gaze fell on you, her jaw dropped, then her lips slowly spread into an amused smile as her eyes flickered to Wanda who approached you.

“Look at you, my sweet little duckling. I could just eat you up,” Wanda cooed, stepping closer and brushing a few yellow feathers off your cheek. Her eyes danced with barely contained laughter, but she still softened her voice as if she were speaking to a precious little pet. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing?”

Yelena was practically in tears now. You nudged her with your oversized webbed foot, trying to fight the rising blush in your cheeks. “It’s not funny,” you hissed, although even you had to admit you probably looked ridiculous.

“Oh, it absolutely is,” Natasha chuckled, stepping closer with a glint in her eye. “You’re literally our little duckling now, all fluffy and bright!” She reached out and gave your cheek a playful pinch, and you batted her hand away with an indignant pout.

“Don’t act so surprised!” you protested, trying to salvage what little dignity you had left. “The note said I was supposed to wear this. It was signed by both of you!”

Natasha raised her eyebrows, exchanging a glance with Wanda, who was now biting her lip so hard she might’ve drawn blood. “Darling, what are you talking about?” Natasha said, inspecting the yellow fuzz with barely contained glee.  “We didn’t send you that costume. But I must say, it’s quite a look on you.” 

Wanda’s hand slid down to her hip as she eyed you, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Whoever sent it clearly knew how to pick the perfect look for you, sweetie,” she teased. “But I think we would have remembered if we had chosen something so… memorable.”

You narrowed your eyes, your mind racing through possible suspects. Just then, you heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor behind you, and you turned to find Val, dressed to the nines in a jet-black suit with a snakes for hair like Medusa. Her eyes practically gleamed as she took in the sight of you.

“Ah, there’s the little duckling,” came Val’s smooth, rich voice, laced with dark amusement. She leaned casually against the doorway, taking in your feathered costume with an expression of barely contained delight. Her eyes glinted wickedly, dark and amused, as she folded her arms and smiled. “I’ll be honest, I was betting you’d just wear something cute. But this?” She smirked, gesturing to the yellow fur. “This is adorable.”

You stared at her, feeling the flush creep back into your cheeks as the pieces fell into place. “Val…” you began, your tone a mix of accusation and mortification. She raised a brow, the corner of her mouth curling up even further. “This… this wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“Oh, darling,” Val cooed, tilting her head as her dark eyes sparkled with a wicked delight, “I could never resist such an opportunity. It’s Halloween, after all. And look at you, I just knew the sweet little duckling suit would look absolutely perfect on you. And judging by the reactions, I’d say I was right.”

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, Val, you’re absolutely wicked.”

Wanda leaned close, wrapping an arm around you and whispering with a playful smile, “She may be wicked, but our little duckling looks adorable.” She tapped your nose gently, her expression warm and affectionate. “And now everyone can see how cute you are.”

Mortified yet secretly touched, you let out a resigned sigh and accepted your new role as the group’s beloved duckling. With Wanda and Natasha linking their arms through yours, they led you deeper into the Halloween party, ignoring the amused glances from the other guests.

Across the room, Val raised her glass to you with a amused smirk, her dark eyes gleaming in the dim light. You shook your head with a rueful grin, flicking her off with a smile as she playfully snapped her teeth in response, her grin only widening.

And then, just as you were starting to relax, Natasha pulled you in for a soft, lingering kiss. Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile against her lips, feeling the warmth of their affection settle around you like a cozy embrace as Wanda’s fingers trailed down your back.

Maybe being their little duckling wasn’t so bad… at least for one night.

[the-cookies-of-darkness]

Jawbreaker

"Oh, It's alright kid. Copper won't hurt a fly. "

Copper stops and looks at the duck confused

Ducky would do the "I'm watching you" motion if it had fingers. Soap grabs Ducky gently. "Ducky, be nice to the doggy."

[slasherstories123]

Hii!! I Hope this isn’t asking too much but do you know if you could write about the reader giving rz Michael a bubble bath in like those claw foot baths where his knees would be sticking out, and he would have a pile of soap suds on top of his head and he would be entertained by a little rubber ducky as we wash him with those big yellow sponges? If you can’t that’s completely ok and don’t worry about it!! It would just be a cute fluffy moment between the 2!

Bath time

RZ!Michael Myers x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags list: @dootys @callmemeelah @mehidktbh @beanbagbitch @mrs-heelshire @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @oneofvincentscandles @sleepypersonblog @alexxavicry @vexeliers-breakroom @l0sercat @naxxsstuff @beel-mcburger @charliedawn @emychan @slasherscrybaby

You slowly blinked while staring ahead at the alarm clock. It was close to midnight and your killer boyfriend haven’t came back yet and it’s nearly been three hours. It wasn’t like you could do anything, you wouldn’t know where to look if you wanted to do a search to find him. The more time he was gone, the more your mind started to wander and think the worst case scenarios. You shook your head to make them stop but they kept coming, making you sit up straight to walk around.

What if he finally got caught…or worse…did someone finally manage to kill him? Is he gone for good..?

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you said to yourself while trying to get something to drink. “This is Michael we’re talking about, he’s strong enough to handle himself.”

Yet the thought still lingered, he’d always come home badly injured and each time it made you worry that one day he won’t come back for good. People can put up a good fight when it comes to him and it shows from him having scratch marks to literally stab wounds and glass shards in his skin. You poured water in your cup, the thoughts still consuming your brain. A low creak of the wooden floor made you flinch, realizing you overfilled your cup of water and it spilled on the counter. Cursing to yourself as you quickly tried to clean it up and looked where the creak came from.

Michael stood by the couch and you had a hand over your pounding heart at the sight of him, turning on the kitchen light to get a better look at him. Luckily there wasn’t any blood..at least that was his…

His outfit was mainly covered in dirt, you sighed in relief which made him tilt his head at you. “You gave me quite the scare Mike.. but you gotta get out of those close if you want me to wash them. I don’t know about you but I don’t want to sleep with a mud stain on my bed. I can start a bath while you change.” You didn’t care about the glass of water and ran upstairs to get the bath ready, making sure it was warm but was still a little hot, making sure it had lots of soap for him to try and relax in. When you turned around Michael stood at the bathroom doorway. You really didn’t want to tell him to take off his mask but you had to in order for you to wash his hair as well.

“Okay another thing… you’re gonna have to take off your mask,” you saw him let out a deep breath. “Wait wait, you can still wear your paper mache one, I just want to wash your hair as well.” You held your hands up in defense, slowly sliding beside him before leaving the bathroom to go and get one of the old one he made that nearly resembled a pumpkin face with black scribbles. Giving it to him and giving him the privacy he needed. “If you need anything, or need help just knock okay?” Michael nodded, you went back downstairs to try and drink the glass of water now knowing that he’s okay.

I wonder if he got hurt, there wasn’t any blood seeping through his clothes it was only the blood of his victims, even if that was the case it’s not like he’s gonna go out of his way to show me I’d have to catch him or pay close attention, he didn’t look injured though.

You heard three knocks, chugging the rest of your water before sprinting upstairs, skipping every two steps to reach to the top faster, hoping he had on the paper mache mask, opening the cracked door to see Michael in the tub. He had his hands on his knees while his knees stuck out of the tub, a yellow rubber ducky floated through the water each time he moved. You forgot that was there.

“Is everything alright?” You asked pointing at him.

He nodded. Pointing at his body and hair.

“You..want me to wash you up?”

He nodded again.

With a tap of your fingers against the wall it took you a moment to remover where you put those large sponges, rushing back downstairs for the third time and grabbing a random cup and large sponge. Coming back up with a small huff from the constant back and forth, still standing and let the sponge absorb some water before pressing down on the bottle of foam soap. Washing up his upper body gently to make sure the soap spread everywhere. Sometimes he’d poke the duck or would squeeze it to make the water come out. You smiled at him being entertained by it. “Alright you gotta wash your lower body, let me know when you’re done I’m gonna put your clothes in the washer.”

He took the sponge silently, you gathered the muddy and dirty clothes and put them in the washer, nearly slamming the washer shut. You then went to your small closet and grabbed a large towel to put in the dryer so it can be warm for him when he comes out. You rubbed your tired yes before going to your room closer,looking for a certain pair of pajamas you bought for him to sleep in, it was hard to find the right size since you couldn’t take him shopping, your best guess was to estimate by the way his clothes looked on him, hoping they weren’t that big on him once he tried them on.

You grabbed the light blue two piece pajamas for him and stood by the bathroom until he knocked again. The three knocks came back and you came in. Wondering how you were going to wash his hair with the paper mache mask in his face. You put down the pajamas.

“Okay.. I’m gonna need you to tilt your head back so the mask won’t get wet.” His hair got dirtier every time you saw it, he desperately needed it washed. You were surprised it was still growing since he didn’t take care of it. Pouring a cup of water over his hair until it was wet and squeezed some shampoo in your hands, massaging his scalp and made sure every last strand of his hair was lathered in shampoo.

You payed attention to his body language since talking was something he never did, his tense form relaxed the more you massaged his scalp with gentle scratches of your fingers the hold on his leg loosened and you cosine sworn you heard him let out a deep sigh. After a few pours, he didn’t have anymore shampoo in his hair. You patted his shoulder to signal you were done, gently gathering his hair to ring out the access water in his hair. “Alright.. I did my part, you can rinse off or stay for as long as you’d like as long as you don’t get my floors wet. Your clothes are on the slink along with a towel. You rushed to get his towel out the dryer, placing it next to his clothing before finally laying down in your bed.

Plopping down on your back, your eyes began to droop needlessly, all that running back and forth made you exhausted along with you staying up waiting for Michael to come home. You didn’t regret it, but now that he was safe in your home, you can relax in peace. You didn’t know how long you managed to sleep before feeling a dip on the other side of the bed.

You sleepily turned your head to Michael who was staring at you through the mask. Having in the pajamas you provided for him. His hair was damp, seeing that he dried it with the towel instead of leaving it a dripping mess to make your sheets wet. You held your hand out with another tired yawn. Eyes not being able to stay open and sleep wanted to overtake you, but you’d like to see him before you go back to sleep. You turned your body so your face him as well. Michaels large hand took yours in a tight squeeze, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to be more gentle, instead, the tight hold made you feel at ease knowing he was there with you . Closing your eyes with a soft, “Good night, Michael.”

A rough grunt was your response, it was the last thing you heard before falling back asleep.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skellys with s/o who’s constantly cold, so they’re Always cuddling up to them

Undertale Sans - He barely lifts his head from his napping spot to see what's going on, pats your head, and goes back to sleep. You'll probably wake up with Sans's butt on your face though, he moves a lot when he sleeps. At your own risk.

Undertale Papyrus - He is actually really happy as Papyrus doesn't like to be too far from his S/O. It makes him feel safer to have you close so he knows where you are. Though he has to cook so he kinda picks you up on his back like a koala sometimes. Sometimes, you have to share his back with Sans too. He's not too happy about you taking his favorite cuddle nap spot you know.

Underswap Sans - He whines and wiggles out of your reach every time. If he's in a good mood, he might throw you a blanket or yeets you to Honey but that's his max. He doesn't like to cuddle for too long, he has too many things to do during the day for that!

Underswap Papyrus - Please yes! Honey is cold all the time as well so hanging in his bed under three blankets is like his dream date. You can watch a Disney movie and eat things Blue forbids you two to touch together! Honey is a giant cuddler so he will never say no to that.

Underfell Sans - He rolls his eyes at you as you cling to him but he doesn't make any gesture to push you either. He will grabby grab your butt or your boobs at some point though, be careful. Too much temptation.

Underfell Papyrus - He stiffs completely as you grab him, then hisses at you. Your hands are COLD! Now he's cold too! How dare you do that to him. He was relaxing just fine! Now his rest is ruined! He leaves dramatically, then comes back two seconds later because he forgot his cat, then leaves again dramatically.

Horrortale Sans - He starts the purring machine, moving a little to give you more place. And once you're settled he's kidnapping and locking you in his hoodie so you two can cuddle for long hours. Be careful of the head butts. He loves to head butt his S/O to show affection.

Horrortale Papyrus - He scolds you for joining him in his medical bed but he's glad you're here to cuddle actually. Willow nuzzles against you and holds you close, feeling safe. It's rare to see him fully relaxing.

Swapfell Sans - It depends on the moment of the day. In the morning, he will growl at you and push you away, but in the evening after a long day of work, Nox is just melting against you and nuzzling in your neck. He's craving for affection, but when he decides it.

Swapfell Papyrus - He's always up for some cuddles. However, do not forget that Rus gets bored really fast and that when Rus gets bored, he can cause some mischief to not get bored anymore. Like drawing on your face while you're sleeping. Or bury you under a mountain of plushie. Or fill your pockets with random rubber duckies... At your own risk.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He gives you the bombastic side eyes every time you're getting too close to him lol. Don't even think about it. He hates hugs. He hates being too hot because people are hugging him as well. He throws a blanket at your face before you have a chance to touch him. If you manage to dodge, he's going to throw his hand in your face to keep you at a safe distance lol. You can't pass his defenses, sadly.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - You swear he makes the room colder on purpose because every time you shiver, you find him already in bed, looking super excited, under a warm blanket, waiting for you. That's way too suspicious.

[gingernut1314]

As Sweet As Sugar

Gojo x GN!Reader

Summary: Gojo returned late from a three-day-long mission bearing gifts and one important question.

Warnings: Set sometimes during season 1ish, Fluffff, pet names, talk of Star Plasma Vessel Arc, hesitant love, love confessions, cuddles, soft Gojo, nervous Gojo, Gojo's love language is gift giving and physical touch cause....duh lol

Word Count: 3.7K

Setlist:

This Is How It Feels

l-o-v-e

A/N: Because I NEED soft and slightly nervous Gojo so I'm doing something about it 😤 lol I hope you all enjoy!!

Taglist: @sordidmusings @lostfirefly

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There was a rapping at your door that never seemed to end. Knocking that had woken you up from a very pleasant dream you had been having. It was still dark out, the moon still high in the dark sky and the stars shining brightly. 

One o’clock in the morning is what you read on your clock. 

Who the hell was coming to bother you at such an ungodly hour? 

Probably a student….the amount of times you had been woken up because they “had a bad dream” was more than you might think. But while here, you acted as not only their teacher, but caregiver too, and you were always more than happen to work through it with them. 

When you opened the door, you were not met with the sight of one of your students. No, you were met with the goofy grin of none other than Saturo Gojo. 

And you wanted to get mad. Oh you were pissed that he had come to wake up at this hour. 

“You’re back.” You settled on, rubbing your tired eyes. He had been sent out on a mission about three days ago, his absence all too noticeable…mainly because while he was gone you helped teach his students. 

“What? Not happy to see me?” He all but purred like some damn cat, leaning down so he could look directly into your eyes. You knew he could see perfectly well with that black blindfold on, but with it on you were unable to see the bits of light-filled ice chips that were his eyes. It always… disappointed you.

“You know I’m happy to see you.” You said, voice sounding raspy from having been awoken so suddenly.

“But…” He elongated the word. 

“But it’s one in the morning. I can’t even see straight.” You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “And I’m in my pajamas.” 

“I think you’re pajamas are cute,” Gojo said with a shrug. “Look at those little rubber ducks--where ever did you find them?” He said, pulling a hand from where he had been keeping it behind his back out to pinch the light blue fabric at your shoulder between his fingers, giving it a small tug. 

You swatted his hand away, feeling warm skin against your knuckles. It made your brain short-circuit for half a second because it always did when you found he had turned his infinity off around you. It always did when you touched him. 

“It’s not professional.” If you could have seen his eyes, you would bet your words would have earned you an over-dramatic eye roll.

“You trying to sound like Nanami?” He asked, “We have to be professional. That means we need to look the part”. Ugh--boringggg.” He pulled out his best Nanami impression, which was truly awful and hadn’t gotten any better since the last time he did it.

“Saturo.” You warned, making him hold his hand up in defense. 

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving.” He said, standing to his full height despite the disappointment that grew in your chest. “Sweet dreams…little ducky.” He said, glossy lips pulling up in amusement at his own words. 

“Good night.” You said a small shake of your head. You shut your door but your heart twisted painfully in your chest as you caught the quickest glimpse of Gojo’s lips faltering in their grin. Like he was--sad that you were sending him away. 

You usually didn’t send him away. You were always happy to have him around. To have him unnecessarily close and very much invading your personal bubble. 

Had you meant to send him away now?

You did, obviously. You shut the door right in his face. 

Your chest felt all hollow as your heart gave a painful little drop in panic as you fumblingly rushed to whip the door back open. 

You stepped into the hallway to find he hadn’t made it too far, the noise of your rush having made him pause to turn back to you. 

“Wait--wait come back.” You said, waving him over. He watched you for a moment like he was trying to figure something out. You noticed then he held two little bags in the hand he had been keeping behind his back. Your heart only began to drop faster at the sight. 

“But--”

“Shut up and come back. I’m being an asshole. You know I want you to come in.” Gojo hesitated for a moment longer, a hesitation you almost only ever saw him do when you were around, before he started back down the hall. 

His lips pulled into an easy smile. A smile that seemed--genuine, not full of amusement or cockiness. You moved out of the way to allow him entrance into your room. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just--late.” You tried to find an excuse but it just sounded pathetic in your ears. 

“Hey, don’t apologize. How can a beauty like you keep all that up if you don’t get your beauty sleep.” He said, watching you shut the door behind him. “It’s why I slept on the plane.” You huffed a laugh, shaking your head at him. 

“Sit?” You said, climbing back into your bed which had gone cold from you being out of it for a while. You turned your bedside light on as Gojo took his shoes off, leaving them at the door before he followed. You scooted over, making space for him to sit next to you. As he got comfy, you grabbed for your blankets and threw them over top of you both, shivering slightly as you tried to get warm again. 

Gojo seemed to notice and scooted closer to you, his shoulder pressing firmly to yours in invitation to steal his warmth. You gladly pressed even closer, moving your legs so they were touching his. 

“Why didn’t you just get a hotel?” You asked, looking up at him as you watched him tug off the blindfold. “You usually do.” You’re voice came out softer once his eyes were uncovered and latched right onto you. They always took your breath away. Eyes you could get lost in their deepness--like an ocean. Gojo tossed the blindfold to the ground without care. 

“Eh…I don’t know,” He started, brushing a hand through his white hair as if to smooth it down, though you doubted anything could truly tame its wild nature. “I guess--” He shrugged, “I missed you…I don’t know, it's stupid.” His eyes turned towards the two bags in his lap, fingers picking at the edge of one. 

“Do I need to remind you that you can say anything to me again?” Gem blue eyes cut towards you once more, lips tugging at their corners. 

“Maybe.” 

“I’m not going to judge anything you say. Just tell me. It’s not stupid.” You said, carefully threading your arm around his to hold him even closer to you “I missed you too, you know.” His lips turned upward again. 

“Good. Cause--I did miss you.” You nodded, giving him an easy smile. 

“Good.” 

“I got you something.” He said, grabbing for one of the little black bags and handing it to you. You took it, feeling over its smooth, soft surface. It seemed very expensive. If you couldn’t tell from the feel of it, the name of the shop sprawled across it in thin, gold lettering let you definitely know. 

You protested for a while anytime he would buy you something expensive. You would protest anytime he bought you something inexpensive. You just hated that he was buying you things because it was too kind and he really, truly didn’t need to. But after a while, you had kinda given up cause you saw how much joy it brought him to get you things. 

If it brought him joy, it brought you joy.

You peeked inside and saw several different types of chocolates and sweets that made your smile grow brighter. 

“Thank you.” You looked back up to him and found he hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

“Of course. I got myself some too. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” You chuckled. 

“I was thinking we could try them together. You know--for science or something.” Your chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh that pulled one from Gojo’s chest as well. 

“Science--of course, of course.” You nudged your shoulder against his, making his pale cheeks dust in a pinkish color you loved to see. “Did you want to try some now?” 

“I think you can read minds. Is that one of your techniques I didn’t know about?” You shook your head again and you reached into your bag, pulling out a light pink, medium-sized candy. Gojo was quick to reach for the same one, his a pale yellow.

“It’s in the shape of a little turtle.”

“They had little dogs and rams but I know turtles are your favorite.” He beamed making your heart flutter. 

“I’m gonna feel bad eating them.” You joked, giving a small pout at its cuteness.

“It’s what he was made for. He wants you to eat him. He’s saying, “Oh please bite my head off. I taste so good and sweet. Pleaseee.”. You laughed as he gave another impression. 

“If you insist Mr. Turtle.” And you both carefully timed out the moment you took a bite so one of you wouldn’t have a reaction before the other. You gave a low hum as the sugary candy brust across your tongue. “Mine kinda tastes like strawberry.” You said after you swallowed. 

“Mine tastes like mango,” Gojo said, not bothering to swallow as he spoke. You both watched each other for a moment, nodding at the taste.

“Trade?” You questioned.

“Trade.” Gojo agreed as you both switched the candies. You giggled at the moment, snuggling closer to him as you two took bites of the new candies. “Ah--much better.” 

You two tried a few more candies, commenting on each and laughing at anything and everything. You enjoyed your time with Gojo. Always had. 

You remembered when you had first met him, you a first year and him a second year. You had been just captivated by him. By this famed man, your clan and the next whispered about and there he was, goofing around with his friends like any other teenager would. 

And when everything went to shit, when he went on his mission, only to come back and have it fail and Geto left, you found him hanging around you more and more. 

When you had asked him about it, why he would want to ever hang out with you who was always so quiet, he responded quickly. Simply. 

“Because you don’t expect anything of me.” He said, hands in his pockets as he kicked a rock further down the street. “Because you’re calm.” And so you stayed that for him. A steady calm against his chaotic wild.

“Hey…can I ask you a question?” Gojo asked, voice growing softer in almost nervousness. You knew what he was gonna ask before he had even said it. You knew cause he had done the same thing once before you graduated. Once just before you became a teacher. And once while you two hung out by the stream that flowed just a little ways away from the school. 

You chewed on the bit of chocolate-covered pretzel in your hand, snuggling deeper into his side and laying your cheek against him. 

“Sure,” You said softly, his arm around you tightening the smallest bit. 

“Why can’t you be mine?” His voice was just as soft. A whisper you and only you could hear. 

You never had a good answer. You’d always given him specks of an answers. 

“I need to work on myself.” 

“I need to focus on teaching.”

“Because I value our friendship.” 

And they were all true. Had been true at the time at least, but they had never been the real answer. 

And now, as you took another bite of pretzel, you still didn’t have a good answer. 

“Why would you want that? I’m not special.” You found yourself saying because it still baffled you that he would want to be your friend let alone be something more. 

“But you are. You’re special to me.” He said, voice passionate even without its rise. “I--I really did miss you.” He confessed again, “I don’t like not being around you. I don’t like having to be away knowing you're here without me. I don’t like falling asleep without having seen you and I don’t like trying sweets without you.” You kept quiet, heart lodging itself in your throat feeling like you might choke.

“Do you…not feel the same?” You squeezed your eyes shut tight, forgetting you held the sweet in your hand as you wrapped your arm around his abdomen, holding him tight. 

“You know I do.” You said practically on an exhale of breath. 

“Then why can’t you be mine?” You felt him shift lower so that he could bury his face in your hair. So that he could wrap his other long arm around you, holding you like you might disappear. 

“I don’t…I don’t know.” 

“Don’t lie. Please don’t lie.” He said on a near beg. “Just like how I can say anything to you, you can say anything to me.” Gojo’s finger curled into your flesh as he shifted again. This time, he brought his knee to corral your legs up so that you were curled up and he could fully wrap himself around you like some long, muscle-filled blanket. “Is it because of my Six Eyes?” 

You grabbed a fistful of his shirt as he whispered his last question. Gripped it tight enough you knew your knuckles would grow pale. 

“Yes.” You whispered back as your eyes stung. You felt his muscles tense at your confirmation.

“Because…you’re scared of me?” 

“No. I’m not--why would I be scared of you?” You nuzzled your forehead against his chest, feeling his heart, which was usually so steady, beat near rapidly. “I don’t like how people treat you. I don’t like--they use you. They use you and I hate it. I don’t want to use you.” 

“But you don’t use me.” 

“But I have. I’ve used your friendship. I’ve let it go on because you make me happy and I let it…shift into this and I--I should have cut you loose.” Gojo stayed quiet, only the sound of your heavy breath and his heart filling your ears. 

“Then I’ve used you too.” You huffed at his words, finding them untrue. Wildly so. “I have. I’ve used your friendship because I didn’t want to be alone.” He fell quiet again, a hand moving up your back to find rest upon the nape of your neck. “....please don’t cut me loose.” And despite your better judgment, you nodded.

“I can’t.” You said honestly because you could never find the strength within yourself to do such a thing. Gojo’s long fingers drew circles into your neck, making your skin heat. 

“Is that the only reason?” He asked after a long moment, his fingers never once stopped in their caress. 

“I’m scared of what my clan might do if we…” You let your words trail out, seeming to not find the strength to say them. “That they might use it to use you and I refuse to let that happen.” 

“Then…don’t tell them. Don’t tell anyone.” You pulled away suddenly so you could look into his eyes. Eyes that were--so raw and unguarded now. Eyes that were sad and hopeful and hurt. 

“That wouldn’t be fair to you,” Gojo said your name softly, letting his head fall to the pillow below him. “No.” 

“...should I beg?” You blinked at him. At the sudden switch from serious to goof, though you could see all that seriousness still shining in his eyes. You knew if you truly wanted him to beg you for it, he would. 

“What? No. Saturo--”

“I’ll beg. I’ll get on my hands and knees and beg.” He continued, fingers moving from your neck to grab hold of your hip, pulling you right back in. His face came inches--no, what’s smaller than an inch? Mere millimeters away from your face making your heart begin to twist and thrash about in your ribs. 

He’d been this close before. Again, the guy wouldn’t know what personal space was if it punched him in the face. And you never minded. You liked him close, needed it but--

“Please--” You were begging. Your weak attempt to get him to stop before you gave in. Before you let your heart lead and not your mind. 

“You think I treat you good now just wait. I’ll treat you like a queen.” He continued as if he could sense your weakening will. He’d never been this persistent before. Never fought this hard for you. Typically you would give your answer and he would nod, going back about his business like it didn’t hurt him but now--

“Saturo--” 

“If you’re worried about your clan don’t be. I am the strongest after all.” He said, pulling that unwavering confidence back into his voice. “I can handle anything. Nothing they throw at me wil--” You threw a hand out to cover his glossy lips, stopping him before he could ramble on. He watched you and you watched him as you tried to think of what you would say. 

What would a life with Saturo Gojo look like? 

Would it be the same as it was now? Would it be wildly different? You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought about it before. And you did like him. Hell, you think you might even love him. But…

There were so many buts. So many unknowns when it came to Saturo Gojo. 

But could you keep this up? Keep denying yourself your feelings just because you were scared? 

“If I agree to be yours,” Gojo perked up, “You need to do something for me.” Gojo nodded as if to say anything. You scanned over his features. Over his fluffy, white hair and eyes that were as deep as space itself. You let your hand move away from his mouth, fingertips brushing over the near pillow softness of them in a way that made those eyelashes of his, which looked like they were covered in ice, flutter closed. 

“I want the last of your chocolate-shaped mouse.” You said, making Gojo’s eyes snap back open. “I ate all of mine.”

“But--I was saving that for later.” You shrugged, pulling your hand away fully only for Gojo to snag hold of your wrist, keeping your hand against his skin. 

“Those are my terms.” You said trying to keep your voice calm despite the way Gojo was making you feel the exact opposite. Gojo pouted, nuzzling your palm with his nose. 

“You’re a wicked thing aren’t you.” 

“What? Me? Wicked? No. No, I’m as sweet as sugar.” Gojo’s lips pulled into an excited grin, moving so that his chest pressed against yours, nearly crushing you under his weight. You enjoyed it, more than enjoyed it. 

“Ya you are. Gonna give me cavities.” He said, leaning in oh so close once more. So close the tips of your noses brushed, making your breath catch in the back of your throat. “Fine. I agree to your terms.” 

“Good.” You breathed, your fingers grabbing a fist full of his shirt to keep yourself steady under his unwavering gaze. 

“Are…are you sure? I don’t want to be with me if it’s not something you don’t--” You lifted your head just enough to close the distance between you and him. To pressure your lips firmly against his soft ones. You heard his own breath catch at the touch. You pulled away, finding his eyes wide from the shock of it. His lips opened and closed like some fish out of water as he struggled to find words. 

“I want to be yours. Ever since you came and sat with me by the stream, I’ve wanted to be yours.” You said, brushing a bit of his hair away from his forehead. “I’m scared of a lot of things but--I’m not scared of being with you. I want you to know that and--I missed you. I really really missed you. It’s hard when you're away.” 

It felt like you had been zapped by static electricity when Gojo’s lips claimed yours again. It was shocking but a shock that was quick to fade as you threaded your fingers through his silky hair. 

“Mine,” Gojo murmured against your lips. “Mine,” His lips moved from yours only to press a kiss to your cheek. “Mine,” Again his lips moved to place a kiss to your other cheek. “Mine, mine, mine, mine.” He said, smothering you in a shower of kisses. Kisses that only made his grin wider and wider which in turn pulled a giggling smile from you. 

“Okay--okay yes!” You giggled, placing your hand over his loving lips only for them to litter your palm with kisses. “Hey--I want that mouse. Pay up.” Gojo’s groan was muffled by your skin, but he pulled off of you, reaching for his bag of sweets. As he did, his eyes kept snapping to look back at you like you might disappear. Like this might possibly be some sort of wild dream. You sat up and moved so that you could press your shoulder against his, hoping to ease his worries.

“I’m gonna miss this guy,” Gojo said pitifully as he gazed at the small mouse-shaped chocolate which he had taken a small bite out of already. 

“He’s going out for a good cause.” You said, matching Gojo’s pitiful state. He gave a great sigh, handing it over. 

You took the mouse happily, standing to your knees so you could be level with him. Those eyes watched you the whole time, adoration for you within them so strong it made them shine extra bright. A look that had your heart stopping and had you melting under it.

“We’ll share.” You said, placing the chocolate between your lips as you lend in close. Gojo was quick to snag the other half of the candy, lips pressing against yours firmly. It made that electric shock rush through your skin once more. Made you burn.

“Sweet.” He murmured around a chew, thumb coming up to brush the corner of your lips like there was something there. You pressed a kiss to his lips once more, smiling against them. 

“Sweet.”

bonus scene ->

[theharrowing]

Carnival of Terror 🎪 4: I make them dance

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

🎪 Jungkook x Female Reader, Jungkook x Yoongi

🎪 word count: 11.7k

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

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

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

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

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

🎪 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🎪 posted june. 2024 | read on ao3

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WELCOME BACK TO THE GREATEST SHOW IN THE WORLD!

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

POLLS THAT SWAYED EVENTS IN THIS CHAPTER:

ducky & rabbit 1 | ducky & rabbit 2

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

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

"No," you admit with a shiver. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Distractions?" you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is not reassuring. 

"Why is it so inconsistent?"

Jeongguk shrugs. "This cut is strange."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I am too," you admit. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"From earlier," you admit.

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

You grin. "Tunnel of Love."

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

"I knew it," he all but growls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel euphoric. You feel lost.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I told them the truth," Jeongguk shrugs. 

Anxiety rises. "The truth, as in…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you feel guilty?" you ask. 

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

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

"Why would I feel guilty?" he asks.

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

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

Jeongguk snickers. "We already established that."

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

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

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

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

"Good, huh?" Jeongguk asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should we be over here?" you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Be serious," you mutter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you ready?" Jack asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"He just…disappeared," Jeongguk mutters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Large movements, however…" Namjoon trails off.

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

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

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

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

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

"—a stranger."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is that…a body?"

"Yours?" Namjoon asks.

You shake your head. "Not mine."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jeongguk?" you ask, stepping forward. 

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

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

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

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

* * *

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

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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.

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