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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year

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High Maintenance 101

Prissy Girl Beauty Regimens 🎀

my prissy girl guide to beauty services and building a beauty lifestyle that fits you 💗

Skincare:

Essential Skincare Routine ❤︎︎

twice daily, in the morning and at night

daytime: gentle cleanser, toner, serum, eye cream, moisturizer, SPF

prep and protect skin

nighttime: double cleansing with oil and cleanser, exfoliation, treatments, moisturizer

wash away the day and help skin accept treatments and actives during your beauty sleep

products will change depending on skin type and goals, but sequence will more or less stay the same

Face Masks + Treatments ❤︎︎

Face Masks -

typically done at home 1-3x/week

clay, gel, mud, cream, liquid

my fav masks at home:

aha + bha liquid mask by the ordinary: a literal overhaul of my pores. it’s refining and helps reduce texture and hyperpigmentation. 1-2 x/week

korean modeling mask: i use this after doing everything in my routine. it’s super cooling and smooths my skin out. the low temp of the mask reduces flushing of my skin and helps the steps in my routine absorb better. 2-3 x/week

Treatments -

done either 1-3x/week and/or exclusively at night

consumer grade Retinols, AHAs, BHAs at high strength

little extra things i like to use to enhance my routine:

gua sha, ice pack, rose quartz roller, however often i choose

Facials ❤︎︎

done every 1-2 months by licensed estheticians

often includes exfoliation and extraction

Classic Facial: cleanse, extract, massage, moisturize

HydraFacials: extracts pores while infusing serums to boost skin’s vitamin and nutrient content

dry, dehydrated skin

Microdermabrasion: microabrasive tool removes outermost, textured, damaged layer of skin using suction to reveal a smooth and refined new layer of skin

sun damaged, aged, textured skin or skin with hyperpigmentation

Chemical Peel: application of medical grade AHA, BHA, Lactic Acid, Fruit Enzymes, or Retinol to peel away top layers of skin over the course of 1-2 weeks

pore refining, brightening, and anti-aging

after care is crucial. skin will be peeling and sensitivity to sun is increased. SPF MUST be used. it’s heavily advised that clients stay home for the first few days.

HydroJelly Facial: facial made of electrolytes, algae, organic white grain oat flour, rice flour, and white willow bark powder. leaving your skin hydrated, plump, and nourished. forms a vacuum-like seal that compresses facial contours.

there are 25 different hydrojelly pro masks for most skin concerns you may have, check here

More Facials ❤︎︎

Contouring Facial: sculpting, tightening, and lifting of facial muscles

LED Facial: uses LED light to soothe inflammation, aiding in acne healing and prevention

Vampire Facial: plumps skin and improves wrinkles by extracting blood, removing its platelets, then either re-injecting it into the skin or applying it topically

Diamond File Facial: finely ground diamonds resurface skin by filing to improve dark spots

Glass Skin Botox: multiple tiny botox injections just below the surface of the skin. alleviate fine lines, redness, texture, and more achieving glass skin

AquaGold Facial: microinjections that combine vampire facial methods, hyaluronic acid, botox, stem cells, antioxidants, vitamins, peptides, etc. improves fine lines, wrinkles, pores, pigmentation, acne scarring, dryness, tone, texture, skin elasticity, and more

cite

Hair:

Hair Care ❤︎︎

Wash Routines:

curly textured: wash and condition every 2-3 weeks, deep condition every 1-2 weeks

straight: wash and condition every 2-3 days, deep condition every 2-3 weeks

Styling ︎❤︎︎

Hair should have a style everyday! At home hairstyling is limitless and really depends on your taste and lifestyle. The everyday woman does her own her once every 1-4 weeks using natural hair products, heat, or other tools.

Professional Stylists:

hair is styled every 1-3 months: uses heat to straighten or curl, extensions to lengthen and add volume, shears to maintain/attain a shape and length

trim ends: every 6-8 weeks

hair color: touched up roughly every 6-8 weeks (depending on how fast your hair is growing and how fast your color will fade)

Silk Press:

after a clarifying wash and deep conditioning, natural hair is straightened using flat iron and/or pressing comb, then usually curled in feathers or pin curls to preserve the style

lasts 3-4 weeks depending on maintenance

preserved by wrapping hair at night, keep hands out of hair, and using a wide toothed comb only

can be further styled with different kind of rollers, or with pin curls

Braids:

afrocentric hairstyles typically done to protect hair while maintaining beauty

lasts 3-8 weeks

styles include knotless braids, faux locs, stitch braids, french braids, etc

Extensions:

hair added to natural hair to enhance length or volume

can be done at home with patience and proper materials

sew-in extensions: (my personal fav) 1-2 months

your natural hair gets braided down flush to your scalp and the bundles are sewn on by the wefts in a flat pattern typically with a section of hair left out to cover the wefts $100-600

microlinks: up to 4 months

i-tip extension is added to hair using micropliers, clippers and loop tool. takes far longer than most extension methods but looks the absolute most natural $500-1000

tape-in extensions: up to a year, touch ups every 4-6 weeks

medical grade tape is used to attach extensions to small sections of hair $200-400

clip-in extensions: 3-6 months

extensions are clipped on by the wefts. the hair itself can last up to six months, but it’s not recommended to sleep, shower, or swim with the extensions in $50-100

Natural Styles:

all last roughly 1-2 weeks at most. allowing hair to completely DRY is crucial for these styles. your natural hair can be further changed in styles like buns, puffs, etc once dry

natural hair essentials: scalp oil, leave in conditioner, detangling brush, wide tooth comb, curling cream, styling gel, edge control and edge brush

wash n’ go

wash and detangle, then use leave in conditioner to keep hair moist. oil on the scalp and ends is recommended for growth and healthy ends

bantu knots

a traditionally african style where the hair is cleanly sectioned (usually parted in a cute pattern) and twisted into knots. style can be worn just like this or taken down for curls

braid/twist out

a specific pattern of curls is achieved after hair is twisted or braided with curl preserving products. end result depends on how big your twists or braids are

roller set

hair is sprayed with water and curl cream applied before roller of your choice is added. hair is left to dry usually overnight for springy well formed curls

Brows and Lashes:

Brow Shaping ❤︎︎

in salon or at home

Waxing - every 3 weeks

Threading- every 2-3 weeks

Razor Shaping - weekly

Brow Enhancement ❤︎︎

Tinting - monthly

can be done at home or by pro in the salon

Microblading - every 1-3 years + annual touch ups, exclusively professional work

cosmetic tattooing using a manual tool with nearly invisible hair-like needles to inject pigment in brows to create your desired brow look

Lash Enhancements ❤︎︎

*done exclusively by professionals

Lifts - every 6 weeks

basically a perm for your lashes to curl them semi-permanently for lashes to appear longer

Lash Extensions - new set every 6-8 weeks, fill ins every 2-3 weeks depending on quality and style

false individual strands of lashes glued to natural lashes to create semi-permanent length and/or volume

lash baths: wet lashes and apply a small amount of gentle cleanser or a “lash bath” to lashes. cleanse lashes and eyelids for about 10 seconds. hold a towel under your eye and use a nozzle bottle to flush soap and bacteria from lashes then dry with a disposable lint free towel. finish by brushing your lashes with a spoolie. daily.

Lash Styles:

Classic: one lash on each fan, thin lashes

Volume: fluffier lashes with more lashes on each fan

Hybrid: uses classic and volume lashes to make an alternated look

Russian: volume lashes made with very thin individuals, 5-6 extensions per natural lash, fanned out look

DIY Lash Extensions - lasts about a week (sometimes longer)

lash fragments or individual wisps are glued either under the lashes or on the lash line. KISS Falscara is a product that makes this concept simple and easy

Nails:

all these services can be done at home with the proper materials and KNOWLEDGE

Classic Manicure ❤︎︎

every 1-2 weeks

nail service that consists of soaking hands in warm soapy water then drying them. nails are trimmed, filed, and buffed. cuticles are pushed back before applying nail polish (base coat, color, top coat), then finally cuticle oil is applied.

nails can be enhanced with rhinestones, glitter, or charms and attached with uv gel or nail glue

my fav styles are pink, cream, white, black and any french tip using those colors

Pedicure ❤︎︎

every 2-4 weeks

sister to the classic manicure, but can be upgraded depending on materials. steps are similar to manicure, except feet are scrubbed and exfoliated before feet are washed and dried to apply nail color

regular polish, acrylic, or gel can be used on toenails

Gel or Shellac Mani ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

same process as the classic manicure, but traditional nail polish is replaced with uv base coat, gel or CND Shellac polish, then uv top coat that’s cured in a UV or LED lamp

longer lasting and more strong/3d than classic mani and is typically removed by soaking in acetone

Apres Gel-X Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

my personal fav at home nails using the artme yoko matsuda nails. after doing a classic mani sans polish, you apply a dehydrator and primer to prep nail for gel. then you apply builder gel to your natural nail and cure. then you apply that same builder to the nail extension after etching it using an electric drill or acetone. marry the gel to your nail and cure. then just shape to your liking and top with uv top coat. tutorial here

Acrylic Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks, nails are fully grown out after 6 weeks

manicure done with liquid monomer and acrylic powder to build and extend natural nail, then polished with color or just a top coat if desired

Russian Mani ❤︎︎

every 4-5 weeks

essentially a gel manicure, but more invasive. the eponychium is snipped away so polish can be applied more closely and flush to the cuticle. this aids in visuals and longevity

service is seen as risky because the skin is more susceptible to fungal or bacterial infection. this is actually how i do my nails at home.

Body:

Bathing ❤︎︎

2x daily

self explanatory, we all know how to bathe. i have other posts that talk about my shower and bath routines.

use a gentle cleanser then a scented body wash to complement perfume and smell fresh all day.

if needed, you can use body soaps with actives like aha, bha or retinol to exfoliate or treat skin at night

exfoliation - 2-3x/week. using scrubs, loofahs, bath brushes, etc.

Hair Removal ❤︎︎

shaving - 2-3x/week

waxing - every 3-5 weeks

sugaring - monthly

ipl device - a device that uses light therapy to slowly destroy hair follicles and unwanted pigment in skin. i use mine after every 5-6 shaves but i could really use it more often.

Vajacial ❤︎︎

1-2x/month

a “facial” for your lady area

the esthetician will first wax, then cleanse and apply an enzyme exfoliant. then they extract any blackheads or ingrown hairs from the area before applying a soothing mask usually in the jelly form.

Moisture and Hydration ❤︎︎

body cream or lotion - daily right after bathing to hydrate skin

body oil - daily to seal in moisture and protect skin from debris and dryness

masks - weekly to address particular skin concerns

ex. when i was having eczema flare ups on my back, i used a dead sea mud mask every 1-2 weeks to help treat it

done at home or at spa

glycolic, clay, mud, salicylic, etc.

Enhancement Procedures:

the goal is to look younger and balance facial features. all these services are exclusively done by professionals usually in a medspa and are widely considered luxury.

Botox ❤︎︎

every 6-8 months; between brows, smile lines, outer corners of eyes, etc

discourages muscle movement to reduce wrinkles

Lifts ❤︎︎

lasts about 10 years; face, neck, brow, eyelids

skin is lifted to desired look, then excess skin is removed

Fillers ︎❤︎︎

every 6-12 months; under-eye, lips, jawline, wrinkle sites, cheekbones

injects acids (usually naturally occurring) like Hyaluronic Acid and Calcium Hydroxylapatite to add volume to your face

Body Contouring ❤︎︎

every 2-4 months until desired results are achieved

non invasive liposuction to achieve desired physique

CoolSculpting - cryolipolysis freezes fat cells for the body to the metabolize and and remove them

SculpSure - essentially the same as CoolSculpting, but uses heat and laser technology to destroy fat cells

Laser Hair Removal ❤︎︎

every 5-6 weeks; bikini, underarms, legs, arms

touch ups done every 1-2 years

hair growth is inhibited by exposing follicles to light at frequencies that kill them

Building the Regimen 🗒️💕:

when making appointments with your “glam squad” you can stagger your services by week depending on what’s being done. for example you can get your mani and pedi done one week. then your facials, brows and lashes another week.

Things to Keep in Mind 💭💞:

these frequencies won’t be the same for everyone depending on personal wants, budgets, etc. but will most likely land somewhere in the ranges i gave. if you need touch ups or redos any sooner than i mapped out, then the service most likely was of poor quality.

anything done at home may or may not be up to the level of detail and longevity as salon or spa work. if you see yourself doing the majority of your beauty maintenance at home, this can save money but may end up taking more time than professional services. so it’s a give and take.

More Resources:

manage your routines, services and products using a beauty binder

a look at my skincare routine

at home beauty treatments for the summer

my hair care routine at home

pretty on purpose by @shefromhouston

monthly beauty routine by @angeljpg

dream girl routines by me

#the prissy girl agenda #dream girl journey #prissy lifestyle tips 💕🎀#dream girl routines #masterpost #my posts #skincare

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wumblr · 2 years

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vanilla production facts

it is an orchid

the flower blooms one day per year and must be manually pollinated. pollination causes the base of the flower to swell almost immediately, from there it takes weeks to develop into a seed pod

vanilla costs about $300/lb. this being the pulp of the fruit itself, the extract we are familiar with is dilute. second only to saffron for expense. the price also tends to fluctuate greatly depending on the abundance of any given year's crops

there are three strains of cultivated vanilla. cultivation dates as far back as the totonac people in the 12th century, who live in present day veracruz, on the eastern coast of mexico. the olmecs may have also used wild vanilla in cooking thousands of years earlier

vanilla was cultivated in european botanical gardens but not really used much for 300 years after the colombian invasion of mesoamerica until finally some idiot realized the melipona bee doesn't live there, which may not have even been the correct type of bee (possibly euglossine)

five years later (1841) a 12-year-old slave named edmond albius on the island of reunion figured out how to manually pollinate the flowers, which is an extremely delicate and difficult process. some french botanist claimed to have invented this process, and people believed him for over a century

the aroma doesn't develop until after the seed pod is harvested and processed. it must be sorted, graded, blanched, then alternately sweated and dried for 15-30 days. the blanching halts fermentation, which makes one wonder, what is a fermented vanilla seed pod like?

synthetic vanillin is derived from eugenol, from clove oil, and lignin, from any number of sources. the vast majority of synthetic vanilla is made from wood creosotes which occur as a product of lignin pyrolysis (fire). its major source is, like anything, the petrochemical industry, which requires heat to fractionally distill oil into several byproducts (kerosene, naphtha, gasoline, etc). which is to say, 85% of synthetic vanilla is made from the wood smoke of the oil industry. you might be inclined to ask "doesn't this pollute" which, if you recapture the smoke to sell its particulate creosotes to synthetic vanilla producers, no, i guess not really, or "why don't they use oil to heat the oil" because it is more profitable to sell the oil and burn wood to make it, obviously

it is difficult to tell the difference between natural and synthetic vanilla in baked goods, because the baking process burns off the distinctive notes, most of which differ by growing region (tahitian vanilla is floral, indonesian vanilla is smoky, mexican vanilla is woody or spicy, bourbon vanilla from reunion has an alcoholic richness)

price markup occurs not at the point of farming, but after the point of curing. there is no set price for green vanilla beans, but there is a set price for dried vanilla beans, after they have passed through several middlemen from farmer to broker to curing. after this point, they are marked up several more times before finally making it to grocery store shelves in the form of bottled extract

in 2017 a cyclone destroyed maybe 30-80% of madagascan vanilla crops, where possibly as much as 60-80% of the global supply of vanilla is grown. in the 5 years since then, the price has not recovered, but boy howdy, have the labels gotten more fancy in specifying when it's from madagascar, haven't they?

70% of madagascar lives below the poverty line, despite the island producing the majority of the world's supply of the second most expensive spice

by volume, the number of vanilla beans imported to the united states every year is nearly two for every single member of the population (~640m, for a ~330m population)

anyway stop pouring a whole bottle of it into a cup for a joke what the fuck is wrong with you people i hope to god that ibuprofen potion post was staged with some vaguely brown liquid. also the word vanilla etymologically derives from the latin vagina meaning sheath ok bye

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najia-cooks · 8 months

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[ID: First photo shows a mixed seaweed salad topped with toasted sesame seeds; in the background are bowls of pickled daikon and kake udon. Second photo is a close-up showing light shining through the seaweed. End ID]

わかめと昆布サラダ / Wakame to konbu sarada (Seaweed and kelp salad)

A wide variety of seaweed-based salads are made by Japanese home cooks. They may contain only a mix of seaweeds and a dressing, but may also feature vegetables including cucumber, carrots, lotus root (レンコン / はす), daikon (だいこん), corn, edamame (枝豆), or onion. Dressings are as varied as cooks, and may be based around sesame oil (ごま油), rice vinegar (米酢), miso paste (みそ / 味噌), ponzu sauce (ポン酢), or mayonnaise (マヨ).

This recipe is a good way to use up reconstituted kombu and wakame that were steeped to make soup stock. It includes instructions for two dressings: one based on rice vinegar and sesame oil, and another with a sesame-mayo base.

"わかめ" or "ワカメ" ("wakame") is likely from "若" ("waka," "young") +‎ "海布" ("me," "seaweed"); it is a particular species of edible seaweed (Undaria pinnatifida) that is farmed in Japan, Korea, and China. It is sometimes called "sea mustard" in English. Without further specification, "wakame" in a culinary context is taken to mean the leaves of the seaweed; these are the same leaves that are eaten in miso soup (みそ汁).

The etymology of "昆布" ("kombu" or "konbu") is unknown. It may be a phonetic Japanese reading of the Middle Chinese "昆布" (Mandarin: "kūnbù") (itself from "綸布" "*krūn pās," "green ribbon" + "cloth"), used to refer to various types of kelp and seaweed. In Japanese, the term refers to any of a few species of edible kelp from the Laminariaceae family.

Dried kombu is steeped to make one type of dashi ("出汁" / "だし"), a stock that is used in various soups and sauces. Once reconstituted, it may be steeped again to make 二番だし ("niban dashi," "second dashi"), sliced and simmered as one ingredient in a 煮物 ("nimono," simmered dish), or roasted and combined with other seaweeds and spices to make 振り掛け ("furikake").

"サラダ" ("sarada") is probably derived from the English "salad."

Note that the "seaweed salad" served at Japanese restaurants in the U.S. is not commonly eaten in Japan. It is shipped out to restaurants and stores pre-packaged, and is made with colored オゴノリ ("ogonori"; "agar" on ingredients lists), きくらげ ("kikurage"; "wood ear mushroom" or "fungus" on ingredients lists), and byproducts of wakame including 茎わかめ ("kukiwakame," wakame stem) and メカブ ("mekabu," wakame sprouts; both listed as "wakame" or "seaweed" on ingredients lists). You may be able to find this salad in the freezer section of your local Asian grocery store. If you want to approximate the texture of this salad at home, try buying some mixture of ogonori, kikurage, kukiwakame, mekabu, モズク ("mokuzu"), and/or ひじき ("hijiki"). Instructions for the dressing are below.

Recipe under the cut!

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Ingredients:

For the salad:

2 cups total reconstituted kombu, wakame, hijiki, or other kelp or seaweed

Vegetable additions to seaweed salads are possible and common. Try adding some cucumber, julienned carrots, sliced lotus root, sliked daikon radish, corn, edamame, or sliced onion that's been soaked in plum vinegar for 15 minutes.

If you're including cucumbers, slice them, salt them, allow them to drain in a colander for about 10 minutes, then gently squeeze them of excess liquid, to avoid making your salad watery.

For dressing 1:

1 Tbsp unseasoned rice vinegar (米酢)

1 Tbsp toasted sesame oil (煎りごま油)

1/2 kosher salt

1/2 tsp vegetarian granulated sugar

1/2 tsp Japanese soy sauce (しょうゆ / 醤油) (such as Kikkoman's)

2 tsp toasted sesame seeds (いりごま)

To make U.S. restuarant-style seaweed salad, omit the soy sauce; replace the sugar with high fructose corn syrup; and add a pinch of cayenne pepper, 1/4 tsp of onion powder or yeast extract, and a pinch of MSG.

For dressing 2:

2 Tbsp vegan mayonnaise

1/2 tsp unseasoned rice vinegar (米酢)

1/4 tsp dried ground shiitake mushroom, or vegetarian dashi powder

1/4 tsp vegetarian granulated sugar

Drop of djion mustard

Pinch kosher salt

1 tsp Japanese soy sauce (しょうゆ / 醤油) (such as Kikkoman's)

Drizzle of mirin (みりん)

2 tsp toasted sesame seeds, ground in a mortar and pestle or spice mill

If you eat eggs, you can replace the first five ingredients with 2 Tbsp Kewpie mayo (キューピーマヨ).

For a halal version, replace the mirin with an extra pinch of sugar.

Instructions:

For the salad:

1. Slice kombu into very thin strips. Slice wakame into thin strips, or leave as-is, as desired. Slice other flat dried seaweed into thin strips or bite-sized pieces.

For dressing 1:

1. Whisk all ingredients except sesame seeds together in a small bowl. Toss with seaweed. Top with sesame seeds and serve cold.

For dressing 2:

1. Whisk all ingredients together in a small bowl. Toss with seaweed. Serve cold.

#Japanese #salads #kelp #kombu #seaweed #hijiki #wakame #sesame seeds

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 3 months

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i apologise if i sent this before (i genuinely have shitty memory😭 if i requested it before just lmk) and i'm sorry this is so long i couldn't figure out how to simply it 😭 but the "Just please don't hug him if he's brewing any elixirs, otherwise you might scare him, he'll drop the wrong ingredients and, uuhhh... Let's say, consequences might not be pleasant." from the "magnus as a partner headcanons" gave me an idea:

what if a (male) farmer who just came back from the mines with plenty of neat artefacts and gems that he want to show Razzy, kicked open the door out of excitement and accidentally startle the living daylights out of his partner/husband Magnus and it causes the silly wizard to drop the wrong ingredients, which somehow brews into a sort of love potion? except... it just makes him 10x more affectionate since Magnus already loves his farmer partner/spouse

I don't think such a question has been asked before, dear anon. And don't beat yourself up about it, that you don't remember, it's okay! (I'm telling you as someone who also has a shitty memory lol).

Have some one-shot with Magnus x male! Farmer! Thank you for your ask! 💕

_________________________________________

"An alchemy experiment that failed successfully"

Gemstones and minerals have for many years been indispensable items in the lives of those who are directly or indirectly connected with magic. Essential ingredients in alchemy, useful material for the practice of spells, necessary components for forging and enchanting various jewellery and staffs to impart the hidden properties of the stone to the wearer. Or even simply as an aesthetic ornament on a sorcerer's robe or dress, giving their appearance mystery and enigma.

Farmer had no difficulty in choosing a gift for his dearest wizard lover.

Light wounds on his hands and feet, torn farmer's overalls, mud and dried blood of monsters, fatigue and hunger - all this was nothing to Farmer, because the loot from the Mines, in which he had spent half a day, was worth all these problems. The spirits had truly favoured the young farmer on this day - he had never yet had such a quantity of treasure to obtain in the Mines, not even in the dangerous but loot-rich Skull Cavern. A lot of amethysts and topazes, rubies, emeralds, aquamarines and jades, rare diamonds, and not even one, but two prismatic shards! That's not to mention a whole bag of geodes, which also contain a bunch of minerals with very interesting properties.

So leaving the Blacksmith, with all the stones extracted from the nodes in Mines and from broken geodes by Clint, Farmer rushed towards the Cindersap Forest at the speed of light, anticipating how Magnus will be pleasantly surprised from the amount of material Farmer had mined for him.

*********************

"Licorice root, essence of night, black pearl..... Hm...." Magnus squinted, trying to read the last word in an old alchemist's diary that he had managed to uncover in his recent searches. A genius of their time, the author of this diary was known for making great contributions to the alchemy, so the unpublished manuscript Rasmodius had found was a real treasure that the old wizard had immediately begun translating and trying to reproduce in his cauldron. Although, even great men have flaws - the author's handwriting is just awful, so much time it took for the translation alone...

"What comes after the pearl..." Magnus tore himself away from diary, walked over to the sideboard and pulled out few flasks of liquid of unknown origin, beeswax, lavender oil, a raven quill, and a couple of quartz. He walked over to the bubbling cauldron again, placing some of the ingredients on a table nearby.

"So what's next? Quartz? Or quill?" Time had been less than merciful to the diary paper, and some of the words were blurry. But Magnus still tried to read it correctly, because if he put the wrong ingredient and the wrong proportions in the cauldron, the consequences could be unpredictable. Unpredictably bad, as it usually happens in practice of all wizards and witches of the Ferngill Republic. So he need carefully-

Like thunder in broad daylight, Farmer, holding the bags of precious gifts, swung the tower door open with his foot with such force that all the potions on the shelves trembled and the poor wooden old door creaked open.

"Magnus!"

At this sudden sound, the focused Magnus jumped in place, accidentally dropping the quill and quartz from both hands. In a panic, the wizard reflexively tried to catch the items that had fallen into the cauldron, but in the end he managed to catch a few more flasks from the table with the sleeve of his robe, right into the cauldron, which began to boil wildly and changed colour from acid green to blood red. There was a flash and smoke all over the room, and Rasmodius didn't even have time to react.

"Magnus, dear, I have a surprise for you!"

Farmer's joyful smile slid down a little when he heard the blast. Quickly climbing the stairs, he ran over to his lover and pulled him away from that red smoke, closer to the exit.

"Is everything alright? I heard a strange sound upstairs."

"Everything is wonderful, my love. Have I not told you how beautiful you are in this crimson mist?"

Farmer had expected a light scolding for his unceremonious entrance in Rasmodius domain, but definitely not this.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Farmer's concerned gaze finally met the wizard's violet eyes, who now kept his gaze from Farmer's face.

"Yes. I don't think anything drastic has happened to me." He stepped closer to Farmer and hugged them tightly. "How I've missed you. You were gone for a whole five hours and twenty-six minutes. The time lasted like an eternity, but now you're back."

Not to say that Farmer was unhappy with his partner's attention, but this behaviour was definitely not typical for Magnus. Yep, something in the cauldron was affecting him.

The wizard quickly threw a glance at the two small bags near the front door. " What is this, my soul?"

"Gems. These are all for you."

"Oh, how thoughtful and wonderful you are, my beloved." Magnus began showering his lover with kisses, his beard tickling the Farmer's sensitive face, making him giggle and try to pull away. "Just when I thought I was running out of amethysts, you bring them for me. You know about me everything, my kind, smart and beautiful Farmer."

He's definitely not himself. I've got to do something, Farmer thought.

"Hey, darling, let's go upstairs again for a moment..." Good thing Magnus had explained to the Farmer where he could find a special potion that, when consumed, would get rid of all the effects of the other potions.

*********************

"Sorry again for scaring you."

"Don't apologise Farmer, it's not your fault. The important thing is that it was without catastrophic consequences or explosions. The only thing I want to ask you is to treat your wounds first before coming to me, okay?" It was now late in the evening. The two lovers were sitting at a table near the tower, out in the fresh air, surrounded by fireflies and the sounds of the forest, while Magnus' house itself was being ventilated from the residue of a failed alchemical experiment.

"Looks like I accidentally created a love potion. There was no point in it though - I already love you without any elixirs and such." Magnus' cheeks flushed slightly as the Farmer looked at him adoringly after his words.

"I love you too, darling. Though I must disagree with you - the potion is not useless, only instead of 'love potion' it would be more correct to call it an aphrodisiac." The wizard's cheeks were now as red as a tomato as the Farmer gave him a sly smile. Because when Farmer had tried to drag Magnus to the special potion, he had been more persistent and managed to drag Farmer... to the bed.

It was definitely one of the rare moments where the alchemy experiment ended surprisingly well. But neither Magnus nor Farmer would tell anyone about it.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley expanded #sve #sdv wizard #sve magnus #magnus rasmodius #sdv farmer #sve headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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darkmaga-retard · 27 days

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Microplastics. We've found them in the Arctic sea and even frozen into the ice. The Mariana Trench, the deepest part of all our oceans

Etienne de la Boetie2

Aug 30, 2024

By Joe Salas

Microplastics. We've found them in the Arctic sea and even frozen into the ice. The Mariana Trench, the deepest part of all our oceans, is polluted with plastic debris. Mount Everest has microplastic contamination. Our drinking water and food, especially processed foods in single-use packaging, are contaminated with microplastics. Recent studies have found microplastics in our blood, lungs, liver, and kidneys ... They've even been found in the placentas of unborn babies.

Studies on the adverse health effects of microplastics in the human body have only recently been done. Respiratory, gastrointestinal, endocrine, developmental and reproductive issues, and even cancers are starting to be linked to the consumption and inhalation of microplastics. Micro and nanoplastics are inescapable. But now researchers from the University of Missouri have developed a relatively simple and safe method of extracting over 98% of nanoplastic particles from water.

Using non-toxic, hydrophobic natural ingredients, researchers were able to create a liquid solvent that floats atop water like oil. When emulsified into the water and then allowed to reseparate, the solvent will then float back to the surface carrying more than 98% of the nanoplastic contaminants back to the surface with it, where it can simply be skimmed off the water. Given its hydrophobic nature, there's little risk of leaving further contamination from the eutectic solvent behind.

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the-silly-words-on-your-screen · 1 month

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How do we have almond extract and almond oil and almond milk like excuse you how many liquids can you get out of an almond

#the silly words on your screen #almond #milk #oil #extract

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thehempcompany · 1 year

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angelkin-food-cake · 8 months

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Bird's Milk Cake

Chocolate Cake:

2⅔ cup granulated sugar

1 tsp. salt

¾ cup dutch cocoa powder

1 tsp. baking soda

1 cup boiling water

1 cup canola oil

2 tsp. vanilla extract

2 tsp. instant espresso powder or 2 Tbsp. ground coffee

1¾ cup all purpose flour

4 large egg yolks

2 large eggs

¼ cup sour cream or buttermilk

Custard:

1 cup granulated sugar

1 cup hot milk

15 egg yolks

1¾ cup butter

1 Tbsp. vanilla extract

Lightened Custard:

1 cup custard

8 oz. whipped topping or 1 cup whipped heavy cream

Ganache:

1 cup heavy whipping cream

½ cup semi sweet chocolate chips

Make the custard first. Combine 15 egg yolks and 1 cup sugar in a medium-sized pot and whisk until smooth. Slowly add 1 cup hot milk while continuously whisking. Cook over medium heat, constantly stirring until it begins to thicken and covers the back of the spoon. When you run your finger over the back of the spoon, the custard should not run into wiped space. Add 1 Tbsp. of vanilla extract & stir. Do not overcook or the custard will curdle.

Add the butter to the custard and stir until butter is completely melted and incorporated into the custard. Cover with plastic wrap, touching the custard (to prevent forming of skin) and allow to come to room temperature.

While custard is cooling make the cake. In a cup whisk together 2 eggs, 4 egg yolks & 1/4 cup of sour cream. Set aside.

Make the espresso: If you have espresso powder, combine the espresso powder with the boiling water. Or brew 2 tablespoons of ground-up coffee with 1 cup water. Drain coffee and make sure there's 1 cup of liquid. If there's not, add enough to make 1 cup. Set aside.

Combine 2 3/4 cups sugar, 3/4 cup cocoa powder, 1 tsp salt & 1 tsp baking soda with the espresso boiling water mixture and stir until almost no lumps appear. Cook over medium-high heat, constantly stirring until it comes to a boil. This step will make the darkest chocolate color it can be. Remove from heat and allow to cool for 10 minutes.

Add the chocolate mixture to the mixer and with beater blades, beat on low speed for 2-3 minutes to remove additional heat from the mixture. Add 1 cup oil & 2 tsp vanilla extract and beat until combined and smooth. Add 1 3/4 cups flour and beat again until smooth. Add the egg mixture and beat until just until combined.

Pour batter into two 9 inch round cake molds lined with parchment paper & sprayed with non-stick spray, or if you do not have the non-stick spray, butter the pan, add 1 Tbsp. flour then shake around to cover the pan, shake out the excess.

Put on wet cake strips around the pan.

Bake in preheated 350°F oven for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. If using an 8-inch cake mold, add 5-7 minutes to the baking time.

Once baked, remove from oven and allow to cool for 5 minutes. Then, run a knife around the inside of the cake mold and unmold the cake by turning it over onto a cooling rack. Remove parchment paper and allow to cool completely. Cut each cake horizontally into 2 layers with a long serrated knife.

To assemble, line edges of the serving platter with 4 strips of foil for each cleanup. The pieces must be wide enough to go about 1/2 inch under the cake and cover the edges of the platter.

Take away about 1.5 cups of cream before you start to layer the cake with the remainder of it.

Place the first cake layer into the middle of the platter and tighten the adjustable cake ring around the cake. Add a couple tablespoons of the cream and spread it around.

Put the second cake layer on top, press it in, then alternate cream and cake until both are used up. You want your last layer to be the cake. Refrigerate the cake overnight.

The next day, combine the reserved 1 cups of custard with 8 oz of whipped topping or 1 cup of whipped heavy cream. Carefully fold both together until just combined.

Cover the outside of the cake in this cream in a thin layer, smoothing the top and sides. Refrigerate the cake for 15 minutes.

Fit a pastry bag with a french star tip. Fill it with leftover lightened custard. Refrigerate until ready to use.

Make the ganache by melting chocolate by pouring hot whipping cream over and stirring continuously. Pour the ganache over the cake carefully brining some of it close to the edges, allowing for it to drizzle down the sides.

Pipe stars all around the top of the cake going in rings starting from the edges and working towards the middle. Drizzle some ganache on top of the stars.

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taevbears · 1 year

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Magic Shop - 10

As the only non-magical being in a shop full of mages and familiars, Seokjin is starting to feel left out.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Seokjin focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 11.1k ⤑ warnings: smut (penetrative), implied smut, verbal sexual harassment, mentions of attempted sexual assault, oppression of mages, implied shady business dealings, probable inaccuracies with 92 liners, mentions of violence ⤑ note: welcome back to pt. 2 of the series! it's finally fall, and it feels good to be writing for this story again, especially with spooky season around the corner. each member will have 2 chapters dedicated to them, making this part twice as long as pt. 1 lol. happy reading, and i'd love to hear your thoughts about this chapter!

Chapters: Series ML | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Dear Mother and Father,

Seokjin pauses as he stares at the line he just wrote. It looks too formal, even with his own eyes.

I’m sure the news about Blackstone Castle has already reached our village by now. You both must be very worried about me. But I’m writing to let you know that your youngest son is alive and well.

More than well, he thinks, as he looks at the morning crowd before him.

The kitchen is busy like it usually is at this time. Hoseok is roasting coffee beans over a magical fire, extracting sweet and nutty aromas that fill the room. Yoongi is standing next to him, frying eggs and bacon into a pan. The sizzle and pop of smoky meat against oil makes Seokjin’s mouth salivate in hunger. Namjoon and Jungkook are checking inventory together, making a list of what things they need to pick up on their next trip to the market.

“What’s wrong, hyung? You’re making a face,” Jungkook points out.

The mage is frowning down at the list and rubs his neck like he’s stressed. But he shakes his head and tells Jungkook, “I’m just wondering if we need this much saffron? What are we even using it for?”

“Yes! I need it!” Hoseok answers, poking his head up to look Namjoon in the eye. “It’s for my potions! Don’t forget it!”

“It’s so expensive,” Namjoon blanches. Seokjin can’t help but notice that he looks a bit stressed again as he continues reading down the list.

“Taehyung, don’t you dare!” you shriek, grabbing everyone’s attention as you back away from the raven familiar. “Your hands are still wet!”

A deep, evil chuckle rumbles from his chest as he slowly advances toward you. He holds up his hands, water dripping from washing dishes over the sink. “Darling, I just want a hug.”

“No!” you yell, ducking away when he tries to grab you.

Neither Yoongi nor Hoseok is phased as the two of you run past them. They simply step aside, using magic to levitate utensils and ingredients upward so that you don’t knock them over.

You run straight to Jungkook, who’d do anything for you in a heartbeat. The toad familiar has you in his arms for a few seconds, seeing you plead for his help like a damsel in distress. That gets him to puff up his chest, bravely putting himself between you and Taehyung.

Little do you know, an enemy is nearby. Namjoon, who likes to tease you as well, tosses the list aside and grabs a hold of you. “I got her, Taehyung!”

“Traitor! I’ll make you pay!” you vow, even though his dimpled smile easily melts your heart. Seokjin blinks at the discarded list on the ground.

“Don’t fight,” Hoseok warns as he finishes making his coffee. He pours the dark liquid into several mugs. “It’s too early in the morning to be threatening each other.”

Yoongi looks over at you all, checking to see if you’re okay. Jungkook yells and jumps back when Taehyung tries to wipe his wet hands on the front of his shirt. Distracted, the toad hybrid doesn’t see the raven hybrid shift and fly over his head until he lands back on his feet as a human right in front of you. And, like the menace he is, wipes his hands on both you and Namjoon.

“Taehyung, why can’t you use a towel to wipe your hands?” you complain as he cackles in laughter. Seokjin stands up from the table and picks up the list for inventory.

“You know how when a cat brushes up against you, it’s like saying ‘you’re mine’?” he asks you, throwing a wink when you catch on. Followed by Hoseok’s loud teasing as Yoongi suddenly avoids eye contact with you and states that breakfast is ready.

A typical, noisy morning at the shop.

Becoming a warden has its challenges. You have to be up at the crack of dawn. The food they serve us tastes bland. Routine shifts are mundane and unchanging. They have daily reminders from the Devoted about how mages are cruel and evil, and how the wardens are heroes by keeping them locked away. Some of the wardens let that get in their heads, and they end up not being very nice people. Then, you go to bed by curfew and do the same thing all over again. It’s quite the thrilling life.

Seokjin scoffs.

In hindsight, his duties as a warden all sound like bullshit. The lies that the Devoted feed about mages and magic are far from the truth.

“That’s hardly fair.”

“Maybe you should’ve gone with a different color.”

“I bet he’ll look good no matter what color we pick.”

The three mages of the shop – you, Namjoon, and Hoseok – are baffled and scratching your heads. In an act of revenge for the chaos this morning, the three of you decided to team up and change Taehyung’s hair.

Into a vibrant blue.

The raven familiar smirks at his reflection on the mirror and looks at you three. “Don’t I look good like this, though?”

In seconds, the three of you huddle together for a new game plan. Hoseok is the first to point out, “I don’t think this is going to work, guys. He’s too handsome.”

Namjoon nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, he’s like Jin-hyung.”

“Me?” Seokjin asks, somehow finding himself included in the huddle.

“I could turn your hair baby pink and you’ll still be the most handsome person in the world,” you tell him, quite serious in light of the gravity of your situation. You don’t seem to notice the redness in Seokjin’s ears from your compliment.

The three of you – talented and skilled with magic – are deemed as threats, even if you’d never use your magic for evil. Hoseok is a potion master who brews concoctions in coffees and teas that add a bit of hope in each cup. Namjoon, who studies the history of the arcane arts and runes, uses that knowledge to write and collect interesting trinkets to decorate the shop. And you, the spell caster, who could incantate charms and hexes effortlessly, only use your abilities to protect the shop, help the people you care about, and occasionally turn one of their hairs into a color of the rainbow.

The Devoted has warned that mages like you bewitch mortals to do your will, host bloody sacrifices, shed the lives of innocents, and commit cardinal sins with demons in exchange for power.

These days, however, the three of you use magic to prank each other or one of the familiars.

“Guess you’ll have to come up with something else.” Taehyung shrugs, suddenly next to you in the circle, catching you all off guard.

I’ve managed to survive the mage rebellion with just a scratch. You raised a pro after all. An apprentice got a hold of a summoning book. He convinced others to form a mutiny, and it backfired badly. He became a monster, burdening all the pains and sorrows that he and the others have carried. That night was the scariest night of my life. I still have nightmares about it.

Seokjin stares at his reflection in the mirror. It’s been several months since the night you all fled from Blackstone Castle together, but the ugly scar on his torso is a fresh reminder of what had happened.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper every time you see it. “I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”

“You saved me just in time,” Seokjin assures you, trying not to shiver when he feels your fingers carefully trace the textured skin. It’s not as bad as before, but it’s still there. It’s still visible.

As the day comes to an end, you always check on each of them. The vibrant blue fades from Taehyung’s hair and you apologize. He says he’ll forgive you if you kiss him, and he’s reluctant to let you go when you do. All day, Yoongi seems avoidant, trying not to brush up against you, probably because of what Taehyung said that morning. But you assure him that you don’t mind, wrapping your arms around him yourself as he seems to ease into your touch. You check with the others too, though you’re always adamant to check on Seokjin.

And Seokjin knows why. Even if you never tell him.

You’re frowning, fixated on the scar. No amount of healing magic that you know could make it go away completely.

He glances at you and then back at the mirror. “I suppose this makes me a little less handsome, doesn’t it?”

“Of course not.”

Since the castle is no longer standing, I’ve moved into a nearby town. I spend my days happily now. No rules or duties to be obliged to. No pressure to conform to beliefs I don’t agree with. I’m only human. I’m lacking in a lot of ways that my housemates aren’t, but I found a family here, and it just keeps growing.

“Ow, ow, ow,” you cry mournfully, sticking out your aching tongue, and set a cup of hot tea on the coffee table. “I think I burned myself.”

Jimin turns to you with a sympathetic smile, but there’s a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Want me to kiss it better?”

He bursts into laughter when he receives his answer through a playful smack.

Your neighbor across the street comes more often these days, welcomed into the shop like another member of the coven. Except, when he’s around, the magic is hidden. No spellcasting, no shifting between forms, no sudden changes of hair colors.

To Jimin, you’re probably all just ordinary people who live together and work together in an inconspicuous, unassuming shop. And perhaps, the only strangest thing is your relationship with each of them.

Seokjin has to admit, even if he knows that relationships for mages differ from what is traditional by the Devoted, it takes time to get used to. He’s only gone as far as kissing you, but some of the others, including Jimin, have gone much further with you.

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it. He just hasn’t found the right time to bring it up to you. Or the right place.

Seokjin eyes the way Jimin casually has his arm around the back of the couch behind you. He doesn’t seem put off when Hoseok comes to sit on your other side, holding his own cup of hot tea in his hands, practically making heart-eyes at you when you turn to talk to him. Or that any of the other residents are lingering in the parlor nearby, with Yoongi and Jungkook sitting on the small bench in front of the piano and playing a random melody, Taehyung taking a seat next to Jimin as he plays a board game with Namjoon, or Seokjin still trying to write a letter to his parents.

In fact, Jimin takes the whole polyamorous aspect of his relationship with you better than most people who’ve been raised by the Devoted teachings would.

Seokjin looks around the room and smiles softly to himself. With the eight of you all together, a full house just hanging out, it feels complete. He can tell that the other residents feel that way too with how at ease they are with Jimin around, despite him not knowing the truths about what you guys really are.

As the only other human in a room full of mages and familiars, Seokjin wonders if Jimin feels that sense of belonging too. And how he’ll react once he knows the truth.

There’s also this girl I met since I left home. She’s smart, brave, beautiful, and diligent. I think you guys would like her a lot. I feel like I fall in love with her more each day.

“What are you writing?”

Seokjin jumps and hunches over his paper, nearly spilling ink all over. Just as he’s started writing about you, you appear beside him. “A letter.”

“Oh? You have a secret lover I should be worried about?” you tease, placing your hand on your hip for emphasis.

“Well, you know,” he plays along. “Worldwide handsome, and all.”

“Of course. How could I forget?” Affectionately, you run your fingers through his bangs, exposing his forehead. His hair has been growing longer. At the castle, they routinely had to keep it short and clean. But now, after several months of no haircut, he may have to make use of the kitchen scissors and the bathroom mirror. “How did I get so lucky to have someone as handsome as you, Seokjin?”

“I’m the lucky one,” he replies, grinning at the shy smile you give him. “I’m actually trying to write to my parents. Let them know that I’m alive and doing well. With the way word spreads around, I’m sure they know about … you know.”

“Yeah,” you trail off with a small grimace. The fall of Blackstone Castle has also brought in many hunters into the nearby towns. It’s a constant worry for all of you that they might stumble into the shop one day, even if it’s located in the quieter side of town.

Seokjin tries to change the topic. “I’d love to introduce you to them. My family, I mean.”

“Would they like me?”

“Of course they will. They’ll probably ask when I’ll—” He cuts himself off.

“Ask you what?”

“They’ll probably ask when I’ll marry you.”

“Oh.”

Marriage is a sacred commitment to the Devoted. For mages, however, such a union simply doesn’t exist. They have their partners; they have their coven. But when magic is deemed evil, and those who wield it are treated as vermin, love in any form would be shunned and discouraged.

Seokjin sees the guilt flicker in your eyes. The way you nervously chew on your bottom lip, trying to carefully place your next words.

Truth is, Seokjin could walk out anytime he wanted. From you, from the shop. He’s not a warden anymore. He doesn’t have any ties or duties keeping him with you. He could find another partner, someone he could legally marry, and start a normal family. It’s safer if he would. But it’s foolish if he did.

“You know that stuff doesn’t matter to me, right?” he asks you seriously. “You're my partner. The others are our family. I wouldn’t change it any other way.”

“If you ever change your mind…”

“I won’t. I promise.” He’s so certain, he holds his pinky toward you. Perhaps it’s a bit silly and childish, but it gives you the assurance you need. “I love you. I’ll always choose you. Nothing will ever change that.”

You smile softly and wrap your pinky around his finger. You return the sentiment in whispered words as he brings your hand closer to his and kisses your knuckles.

She’s everything to me. I wish you could meet her one day and see it for yourself.

Mornings are Seokjin’s favorite time of the day.

Usually.

He’s not a big fan of a neighbor’s rooster and its insistent crowing at 3:00AM. On the dot. Every single morning. He’s even less of a fan when, only a couple hours later, just as dawn is beginning to break, Seokjin hears it again at 5:00AM. Screaming at the top of its lungs over a slither of sunlight in the sky. And by 7:00AM, when it cries out the third time, it takes every fiber in Seokjin’s being not to stomp over, grab the rooster, and toss it in the air out of spite.

He also dislikes having to actually leave the safe and warm sanctuary of his bed. Where he’s cozy and comfortable beneath his thick blanket, and the mattress and pillows feel like he’s on a cloud. Where his favorite, long pajamas feel soft against his skin. But with a long list of tasks ahead of him, he reluctantly and mournfully pushes away the covers, shivers as the cold morning air sucks away the warmth, and begins to dress up for the day.

Otherwise, it wouldn’t be long until he hears the small creak of someone entering his bedroom. The breathy chuckles that escape his lips as he tries to hold back his giggles. Followed by the unmistakable whisper of, “Jin.”

“No, Hoseok, you can’t.”

And Hoseok would burst into loud laughter, hitting the lump that’s Seokjin beneath his covers, and ask, “Oh, hyung! How did you know it was me?”

Despite how he actually wakes up that day, mornings are relatively peaceful. Most of the residents are still asleep, and sometimes, he can hear Namjoon or Jungkook still snoring from their rooms. Candles automatically light up down the hallway of mixed doors, guiding him down the stairs and to the kitchen.

And that’s where you are, bright and early.

Or rather, these days, as Yoongi had quietly confided in him, because you haven’t been sleeping well. Nightmares, the black cat had explained.

“Hey, morning,” Seokjin greets you as you rummage around the kitchen, pulling out jars and pans as if it’ll inspire you to cook.

“Morning, Jin. What do you want for breakfast?” When you turn to him, he can see the tiredness in your face. Your eyes are a bit red, your posture more sluggish.

“I can do it,” he assures you, taking a pan from your hand before you drop it. You let him and instead, use your free hand to cover a big yawn. Even when you’re on the brink of passing out, Seokjin finds you cute. “Did you sleep last night?”

“Barely.”

“Because of that damn rooster?”

“Yeah,” you lie. Seokjin knows you don’t want to talk about the nightmares you’ve been having. Not even to Yoongi or Hoseok.

But Seokjin sees the way you look at him. The relief that crosses your face when you see him, the guilt that follows after when your eyes trail to where his scar is. There’s an apology in your tongue, but before it could escape your lips, he jokes, “Maybe we should have that rooster for breakfast.”

“I don’t think our neighbor would like that,” you point out with a small smile.

He returns your smile as he decides to make eggs and bread. But his smile fades when he notices that there’s less ingredients in stock than usual, even though Namjoon and Jungkook had just gone to the market yesterday. Did they not get enough?

“Our finances are low,” Namjoon reveals when Seokjin asks him about the lack of ingredients later that afternoon. As mages, it’s easier to get by, and the shop has always been more of a home than a business. But coin is still needed to buy fresh ingredients, to maintain amenities, and to keep the shop running.

Namjoon looks stressed. The human world and its standards are still new concepts to you and Hoseok, and Seokjin can tell that Namjoon doesn’t want either of you to worry. He’ll buy fewer eggs if he can get Hoseok his saffron. He’ll get cheaper quality meat, even if Jungkook complains that he can’t fork it. He’ll pick tangerines and strawberries himself if that’ll make Yoongi and Taehyung happy. He’ll pass up on a book or rune that he wants so he can get you something nice instead.

Seokjin glances over at you. You’re finally asleep, resting on the couch with Hoseok. One of his arms is protectively around your waist as he rubs soothing circles down your back and shoulders. Taehyung comes to put a blanket over you, and he’s careful not to wake you as he gently pats your head.

Clearly, you have a lot of things on your mind lately.

“Hyung will do it,” Seokjin assures him, even if he doesn’t really know how. He’s only human. But he’ll find a way.

Seokjin knows you’re home when Yoongi, who’s been napping all afternoon, suddenly springs to life and meows impatiently at the door. It’s as if he’s saved up all his energy just to be the first to greet you hello when you step in.

Followed by the pattering of feet as Taehyung exclaims, “You’re home!”

And by the time Seokjin gets to you, you’re sandwiched between the two youngest and carrying Yoongi in your arms.

“Guys, let her breathe,” Namjoon lightly scolds Taehyung and Jungkook. As if the others aren’t also coming to the door to welcome you home like a bunch of puppies.

Seokjin manages to slip by your side as you take off your shoes. “How’s my favorite mage? Did you have fun with Jimin?”

“I had a good time. It was busy at the town square,” you inform him, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek. His mouth twitches back a shy smile and a blush. “Jimin said a lot of guilds are open for new members at this time. So, there are a lot of recruiters trying to get people to sign up.”

“Ah, that’s what happened to me!” Jungkook pipes up, nostalgia of his former days as an adventurer flashing through his mind. “In my town, there’s a big bulletin board that people put fliers on when they need help. I used it to pick up odd jobs here and there, like taking care of a rat infestation or delivering a package to someone in another town. And one day, I saw a poster for a guild fair. I went, did some research by talking to people, and ended up joining one.”

“You could probably join one of the ones here, too,” Yoongi says after jumping out of your arms and shifting to his human form. His black hair is a bit messy from sleeping all afternoon.

“I want to so badly! But sometimes, missions could take days to complete, and I don’t know if I can hold this form for that long without changing.”

Jungkook sighs. For a recently-turned familiar, he’s making great progress controlling his transformations. But it wouldn’t do his party any good if he were to turn back into a toad mid-battle.

“Maybe once we turn you human again, you can,” Namjoon suggests, patting his head with sympathy, as if it’ll be easy. As if there isn’t a powerful, Wicked ex-girlfriend trying to hunt Jungkook down.

Jungkook pouts but nods his head. “The guilds are nice, and New Haven is the perfect town for them. It’s a good way to earn coins, make new friends, go on adventures, strengthen your skills, and get useful information.”

“Coins?” Seokjin repeats. He doesn’t hear a single word after.

“Yeah. If you’re good, a lot of guilds give you big bonuses after a mission.”

“Coins,” Seokjin echoes, suddenly turning away from you, lost in thought.

You stare after him, mildly concerned. “Jin?”

It is, perhaps, a mere coincidence that Seokjin finds himself at the town square the very next day.

Colorful tents are lined up around the plaza. Recruiters are shouting in the streets and handing out fliers to whoever passes by their booths. Some members are putting on a show, displaying trophies of their latest hunts, dueling against each other with shiny new swords and shiny new armor, and waving their flags around as they boldly claim their guild is the best. Even people from out of town are gathered to check out the festivities. Every brave, adventure-seeking soul is hoping to find their place in one of the many guilds here.

“Hey, you’re strong and handsome,” the fourth recruiter of the day stops him. “Want to join our guild?”

“What do you guys do? And do you make a lot of coins?” Seokjin asks, a bit curious.

“Oh, of course! We do lots of stuff! We explore caves and old ruins to look for hidden treasures, slay large beasts that trouble the local folks, visit ports to trade goods with foreign investors, hunt mages— Hey, where are you going?”

Seokjin immediately loses interest and walks away. He sighs, wondering if there’s even a guild out there that doesn’t list mages as monsters.

“Let’s just go one more round,” Seokjin mutters to himself. If he doesn’t find anything good, he can always think of something else.

He tries to stop by each one, listening to their criteria and what they’re looking for in a new member, and asking what they do and how much they make. But the moment they mention hunting down mages, he quickly moves to the next table. He almost wants to just ask that one question – whether or not they hunt mages – but he isn’t sure how to bring it up without warranting suspicions.

“Hey there, handsome. Are you interested in joining our guild?” a female recruiter asks. She’s thin and pretty, and when she smiles, her front teeth poke out a bit like a bunny. She has the kind of smile that reminds him of Jungkook. “We still have a few spots open if you are.”

Seokjin tries not to sound jaded as he smiles back at her. “What do you do?”

“The typical stuff most guilds do,” she begins to explain, but is suddenly interrupted by a commotion near the booth.

“Have you gone mad?!” a man shouts, seeming to be talking to another recruiter. “Mages will kill us if we let them! What is this nonsense about allowing the likes of them into the Freelancers?”

“Are mages not human as well?” a young, charismatic man replies, seeming to stand firm with his stance. “They have unique abilities that could take us further in our adventures than we could ever imagine. Think about it! If someone in our party is injured, we could rely on magic instead of using up precious medical supplies. They could clear obstacles in forests and tunnels to complete the mission faster. We could defeat savage beasts more easily and efficiently with their aid!”

“Lies! That goes against everything the Devoted teaches” a woman accuses as the crowd around them murmur.

“Who is that?” Seokjin asks as people continue to argue with the man. But he and a couple others flanking his side have a rebuttal for each statement. It only riles the crowd up even more.

“His name is Tariq,” the female recruiter answers with a laugh. “You must be out of town. He’s infamous around New Haven.”

“I can see that,” he replies as he watches the debate. He’s half-surprised no one has accused him of being a mage-sympathizer yet.

“Tariq can be intense, but he’s the greatest strategist and fighter in New Haven,” she explains as if she’s read his mind. “His values don’t always align with the Devoted, but even the town leaders can’t deny how much they rely on him to protect the town. He’s cultivated his own following within the guilds too. Lots of people support and admire him, no matter how crazy his ideas can be.”

Just then, another man breaks through the crowd and grabs a hold of Tariq’s arm. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize on behalf of the Freelancers, but this debate is now over. Tariq will take some time to reflect on the concerns brought up today.”

“And that’s Adnan, his older brother,” she continues, nodding to the new guy that has pulled Tariq aside to scold him. “He’s the leader of the Freelancers, but the two of them couldn’t be any more different.”

“What are the Freelancers?” Seokjin asks, finally looking away from the two now that the crowd has begun to die down.

“That’s us,” she replies with a nervous laugh. “We’re a bit controversial, as you can see, but we firmly believe that anyone – even magic or not – will find a place in our guild.”

Seokjin nods his head and considers what she’s told him. He only has one question left. “Where do I sign up?”

In their glory days, the Freelancers were a powerful and ruthless mercenary group.

They were unlawful. A guild that got their start from handling odd jobs that couldn’t go through legal and official channels, and taking up difficult quests that other guilds didn’t find worth the effort to do themselves. Eventually, they became notorious for engaging in shady, cutthroat contracts such as back-door dealings and accepting secret fundings from nobility without honor or integrity.

With enough coin, there was no job that the Freelancers refused to take.

Recently, under the leadership of Adnan and Tariq’s great-grandfather, the Freelancers have more peaceful, quasi-honorable practices. His goal was to eradicate the guild’s notoriety and build a new legacy. In the eyes of the public, the Freelancers have now become the biggest and most reliable organization for quests and missions.

It’s a reputation that their father has upheld as well, accepting most people who were willing to join: men and women, nonbinary, wealthy nobles and poor peasants, skilled warriors with years of practice and those just looking to gain experience. However, as his reign comes to an end, the guild looks to his two sons for guidance.

Adnan, the oldest, plans to retain the current honorable methods that his family has instilled and follow the footsteps of their legacy. Accepting those willing to join their noble cause, offering new opportunities to their members to make extra coin, and taking righteous paths as instructed by the Devoted to thwart out evil from the town.

But Tariq, the younger and more charismatic brother, is ambitious and wants the guild to take on a more profitable, but shadier nature. It doesn’t matter to him if those who join are mages, demons, or monsters either, as long they’re on his side. Just as they did in their glory days before his great-grandfather.

Discourse between the two brothers and their sizable followings have been brewing within the guild. It’s a tension that’s been there long before Seokjin joins.

And it won’t be long until a clash of interest threatens the entirety of the Freelancers.

“Hyung, you joined a guild?” Jungkook exclaims, hopping after with excitement. “I’m so jealous! Which one is it?”

“They’re called the Freelancers,” Seokjin answers, showing the flier he received with the date and location of his first official meeting with them. “They’re the biggest guild in New Haven.”

Hoseok whistles. “That’s impressive! Congrats, Jin!”

“Hopefully this brings in more coins for us, too,” Seokjin adds as he looks at Namjoon. The recruiter told him they tend to get more quests than other guilds, especially with how famous the two brothers are. More quests mean more opportunity for coins.

Namjoon frowns a little. “Hyung, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Seokjin assures him. “I want to be more useful to you guys and the shop. I think this is the best way I can do it.”

After all, Seokjin isn’t gifted with magic. He doesn’t have any affinity to the Veil or its mysterious realm. Seokjin is only human. But he’s a human who knows how to fight and take care of himself in battle.

“Wouldn’t that mean you won’t be home?” Yoongi asks him. A silence follows as the rest of you wait for his answer.

“Maybe from time to time. They’ll have me do local missions first before they send me off somewhere far,” Seokjin explains, sensing the uneasiness of that idea. “I’ll let you guys know when they do before I take the quest.”

“What about the shop?” Namjoon questions.

“I can do tasks for the guild in the morning, and help at the shop at night,” Seokjin decides, already putting that in consideration when he went to the fair. “That’s usually when the tavern is the busiest.”

“Wouldn’t you be tired?” Taehyung wonders out loud.

“I’ll do my best for both. Don’t worry.” Seokjin knows he’ll have a team to carry out missions with at the guild, and a family to rely on when he returns home. He turns to you, noting your silence. Gently, he takes your hand in his and presses, “Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you tell him, frowning as your gaze lingers down to his torso. To where his scar is. “What if something happens to you while you’re away? What if I can protect you?”

“I’ll be careful,” he assures you, pulling you into a hug. He understands your feelings. Truly, he does. But Seokjin has always been a dutiful and honorable man. And helping relieve some of the financial burdens from Namjoon is the least he could do. “Once my mission is over, you’ll be the first I run back to. Promise.”

Before he became a warden, Seokjin was a promising recruit. He’s self-disciplined, admirably hard-working, and spent extra time honing his skills to push himself a little further than his peers. While new recruits rested from their rigorous training, he’d be up a few hours earlier to practice with his word, to study how to disarm enemies, and to strengthen his mental fortitude.

It’s an attitude and passion that he’s carried as a new recruit to the Freelancers.

“Are you sure this is your first time joining a guild?” his mentor, Junghwan, asks him. He’s also fairly new to the guild, joining only six months prior to Seokjin. He’s been tasked to take him and the other new recruits on their first mission.

Bandits were blocking the main road into town and were scamming weary travelers of their coin.

Seokjin was able to coerce them off the road and to return the stolen coins. But when the bandits later came to ambush their group, his parrying skills in battle sent them away for good.

“It’s pretty fun,” Seokjin admits with a bashful smile. He feels good about his first small victory. And feels even better when the clerk at their guild pays him his reward.

Coins clatter on the counter as Seokjin dumps out his earnings for the week. “It’s not much now, but imagine how much more I can make if I take up more missions.”

“Wow, hyung…” Namjoon trails off, staring at the small pile. It’s enough to bring home the entire list of what everyone wanted, expensive saffron and all. “This would really help us out a lot.”

Seokjin smiles. “I think I could be really good at this.”

He hasn’t been in the guild for very long, but it’s everything he had hoped to have when he was a warden. That feeling of brotherhood among the members, from the throes of battle to the clinking mugs of cold ale. The small victories that lead to praise and coins. An outlet to constantly improve himself, make himself stronger, faster, and a better protector for you and the others.

“Joon, we’re out of eggs again,” you inform him, coming out of the kitchen to where they are. You’re about to ask if he can run to the market and get some more when you notice the shiny coins on the counter.

Seokjin smiles warmly at you. “I’ll buy you as many eggs as you want, beautiful.”

It isn’t long until Seokjin takes up more missions: investigate a caravan that was ambushed and report back with the news, explore a nearby cave and eradicate the giant spiders dwelling inside, find a specific blue flower that grows on the hillside of the woods and bring it to the requester. He climbs higher in ranks within the guild, already surpassing the initiates that joined when he had. Members of the Freelancers begin to take notice as well.

“What’s your name, son?” Adnan asks him at the guild’s mess hall, eyeing the young man before him.

“It’s Seokjin, sir.”

“Seokjin, huh.” He repeats his name and gives him an approving pat on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work, Seokjin.”

He feels his chest swell with pride. Receiving acknowledgement from the leader of the guild, especially one as big as the Freelancers, feels like a big deal.

“Hey, new guy, come sit with us!” a female member named Heeyeon calls out to him. Around them, other tables are discussing strategies, refueling on food and drinks, and sharing stories about their latest missions. Seokjin rarely stays at the guild’s base long enough to eat, usually running back to the shop as soon as a mission is complete. But he sees his mentor, Junghwan, sitting next to her, as well as the female recruiter that had signed him up. “I don’t know if you met everyone yet, but this is Byulyi, Sunwoo, Junghwan, and Jaehwan.”

Byulyi smiles when she recognizes him. “Hi Seokjin! Long time, no see. How do you like the Freelancers?”

“With the way he’s going, he’ll probably outrank his mentor in a month,” Sunwoo teases, elbowing Junghwan on the ribs. The two of them, Junghwan had mentioned, have come from the same hometown before they settled in New Haven.

“I’d believe that,” Jaehwan agrees, pointing out how he saw Adnan talking to him. He raises a glass to Seokjin with a bright smile. “I hope we can do missions together. It’s better when you’re with a team than by yourself.”

Seokjin returns the smile with a shy one of his own. “I think I’d like that.”

Jaehwan isn’t wrong. Turns out, picking up missions as a group is easier than doing them alone. There’s safety in numbers, and the variety of skills within the group work seamlessly on and off the field. Plus, it’s more fun with other people. A lot more fun.

Especially in a group as charming, good-looking, and funny as they are.

Team Kim Seokjin, as they have started to call themselves. Because after Seokjin joined their party, they’ve yet to fail a mission they’ve taken on.

By the time Seokjin arrives at the base in the morning, Byulyi already has a few quests lined up for them. She has a knack of finding ones that have a big payout, and once all members of their party arrive at the guild, they decide which ones they want to tackle for the day.

Sometimes, they’re easy tasks like reconnaissance, finding specific ingredients in the woods, or helping elderly townsfolk with hard labor. Other times, they’re more difficult like detaining a pick-pocketer from the marketplace, fighting off a dangerous wild cat from entering New Haven, or protecting goods from bandits while it’s being delivered to the next town.

Junghwan and Jaehwan instantly click with Seokjin. Between witty one-liners and endless puns, the three become fast friends. Seokjin can’t remember the last time he’s laughed so hard while on a job. Even Heeyeon, who is a little shy at first, warms up to him and shows her sillier side.

By the end of the day, it’s Sunwoo who turns in the mission reports to the pretty clerk he has a crush on. All of them work hard, deserving of the rewards they collect, and they divide the earnings of the day evenly between the six of them.

“Man, what a day.” Junghwan sighs, massaging his shoulder after another successful mission.

“I’m starving,” Byulyi states as she rubs her stomach. “Should we get something to eat before we head to the base?”

“That sounds good to me,” Jaehwan agrees, turning to face Seokjin. “Are you coming with us, Seokjin?”

“I can’t,” Seokjin replies with an apologetic smile. It’s getting late and you might need help at the shop. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“You always have somewhere to go,” Junghwan pouts, a bit disappointed that his new friend could never hang out after completing a mission. Most people in their guild like to celebrate their small victories by grabbing a drink and eating dinner together.

It isn’t like Seokjin doesn’t want to. He’s sure it’ll be fun, and he knows he’d have a great time with them.

But he has a promise to keep.

With a quick exchange of goodbyes and no hard feelings of missing out on another dinner with the group, Seokjin runs back to the shop. His legs are burning from being on his feet all day. He’s dirty and sweaty from the various tasks he’s been assigned for the day. But as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, coloring the sky in twilight, he nears the shop and sees you.

Occasionally, you’d be there to greet him in front of the shop. Sometimes, with a cup of tea and a book as one of the familiars sit on your lap or shoulder. Sometimes, you’re talking to Jimin as he waters the flowers sitting outside his shop. Or sometimes, like today, it’s just you.

The golden glow basks upon your skin as you sit on the porch steps, and all Seokjin can think about is how beautiful you look. No matter how difficult the mission is or how exhausted he feels, he remembers that he’s doing it for you.

When you notice him, a bright smile lights up on your face. “Jin! You’re back!”

And Seokjin feels himself falling in love with you all over again, laughing as he gathers you in his arms after a long day. “I’m home.”

Word about Team Seokjin and their success rate is spread around the Freelancers, and in no time, they become one of the most promising groups in the guild. Every mission they take on, they’ve completed and earned high praise from those they helped. Some clients even come back and specifically request them for another job.

Inevitably, this attracts the attention of Adnan and Tariq. Separately, the brothers have approached the group with special jobs.

Adnan’s requests seem to fall in line with the Devoted’s charity work. Manpower to help at fundraising events, collecting donations of supplies and coins around town, finding a missing child from the town’s orphanage. Things that would normally make him feel good, if it weren’t for the magical hearsay they spew out at every event.

It's the opposite of the “no questions asked” missions that Tariq gives them. Delivering inconspicuous scrolls to certain individuals, dropping off packages at the back of bars and alleyway businesses, bringing in traitors who’ve gone rogue for Tariq’s men to deal with. No one in Team Seokjin wants bad blood in their hands, but with the reputation that Tariq has, it’s certain that he’s bound to have many enemies as well.

If they’re lucky, they can leave for a mission before either brother gives them one. They become increasingly more difficult and take up more time in his day, but all of them prefer choosing their adventures than to be stuck doing one of the brother’s favors.

And as always, after his missions, Seokjin goes straight home.

He’s dead on his feet as he changes clothes and throws on an apron, cooking at the busy tavern for the rest of the night. Yoongi has been helping him a lot too, taking over the kitchen when Seokjin isn’t there, and making sure that he isn’t burning anything or falling asleep when he is. Namjoon tries to talk him out of helping at the shop, worried that he’s pushing himself too hard, but Seokjin refuses to listen. Even Taehyung tries to block his path to the tavern and send him to bed instead.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Seokjin says as soon as he gets to the door.

It’s another one of those days. A mission retrieving an old woman’s cat had Team Seokjin running around the entire town all day. After several close calls of getting his handsome face and long arms scratched, climbing up trees and rooftops, and losing sight of the little menace, the cat eventually went back on its own. The old lady gave them each an extra coin to show her appreciation.

There are a handful of customers in the shop: a small group of women that have been frequenting the parlor room to see the two youngest sing and play music, a couple guys that seem to be catching up and sharing drinks by the bar, and a few groups eating supper at the tables.

Jimin is there too, as he always is these days, clearly flirting with you while you’re trying to work. Your bashful smile at Jimin changes to one of delight when you finally see Seokjin. “You’re home! Welcome back!”

“Sorry, I got held up,” he explains when he gets to you, kissing your cheek.

“It’s okay. We got things covered,” you assure him, pulling up a chair in front of Jimin. “Just rest up. I’ll get you something to drink.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He sinks into the chair with a sigh of relief. “Thank you. You’re an angel. I love you.”

Seokjin completely misses the surprised look you give him at his last words. Ones that nearly have you bumping into another table before you head to Hoseok’s bar. But Jimin catches it, looking between you and Seokjin with intrigue.

“How are things at the Freelancers?” Jimin starts, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his knuckles.

“They’re good. It keeps me busy,” Seokjin tells him, still leaning back on his chair and keeping his eyes closed. He could fall asleep like this if he wanted to. “It makes good coin, too. If I can save up enough, maybe I can take us on a trip to my hometown.”

“Your hometown?”

“Yeah, it’s a small fishing village.” He opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling, thinking about the letter he tried to write to his parents. Seokjin left home to become a warden, since that was what was expected of him. Despite how terrified he was of mages at the time, he worked hard on his training, only to feel miserable and out of place within the brotherhood. His friends are now people he once thought were the enemies, and he’s fallen in love with a girl he swore would turn him into a toad one day. “I’ve always wanted to take her there. Show her the pier where all the boats dock and the sea lions sunbathe, take them all to the beach and see the ocean, go fishing, maybe introduce her to my parents.”

Sometimes, he misses the salty breeze, the sound of waves crashing against each other, the gentle rocking of the boat on water, and the thrill of getting something caught in his line and pulling the fishing rod to see what it is. Sometimes, he misses the taste of his mother’s home-cooking, spending time with his father, and getting in trouble with his older brother. Sometimes, he misses home.

“That sounds nice,” Jimin replies, snapping Seokjin out of his thoughts. He sits up, almost forgetting that the florist was sitting across from him.

Honestly, he doesn’t know Jimin that well. He’s good company, sure. You clearly love him, just as much as you love the others. Hoseok and Taehyung seem to believe that he’ll be a significant person to all of you. And Jimin seems like a decent guy. He treats you well, he’s friendly with the rest of them. Just like Seokjin, he’s just trying to find his place in the dynamic between you and the others in the shop.

Because Jimin, like him, is only human.

Perhaps that’s why Seokjin offers, “You want to come with us?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Me?”

“Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun to go together,” Seokjin replies with a tiny shrug. He knows you’ll be happy to have Jimin come along too.

Jimin is a bit quiet. Then, softly, and perhaps still a bit perplexed, he asks, “You really want me to?”

Before Seokjin could answer, you finally return with a couple cold beers: one for him and one for Jimin. “Sorry for the wait. Hoseok and I were talking, and Yoongi needs my help in the back. I’ll catch up with you guys later, yeah?”

“Sure, love.” Jimin reaches over to squeeze your arm reassuringly. He promises to say goodbye to you before he heads back to his shop.

“Thanks, angel,” Seokjin says with a gentle smile. One that becomes fonder as you brush his hair back and place a quick kiss on his temple.

Though, the action doesn’t go unnoticed. One table over is a group of three men on their fourth round of ale that night. As you pass by, one of them shouts, “Hey, lady, where’s my kiss?”

Mocking laughter follows as the man puckers his lips when you turn to them, confused and taken aback. And in a brief moment, you have that same, terrified look.

Suddenly, Seokjin is back to that night. At Blackstone Castle. Heading to his quarters after another unsuccessful Harrowing, catching three of his fellow wardens cornering you in a dimly-lit hall. The tremble in your voice when they interrogate you with invasive questions, how they disable you from fighting back, tugging on the clothes they’ve ripped.

Without thinking, Seokjin stands up. His hand automatically grips the hilt of his sword. All he sees is red.

At the same time, Jimin is on his feet too. For a second, Seokjin thinks Jimin is trying to hold him back, but his eyes are glaring right at the men cat-calling you. He’s holding the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles are beginning to whiten.

Before either of them could make a move, Hoseok steps away from the bar and quietly urges you to go to the back. That he’ll handle things at the front. He gives a pointed glance at both Seokjin and Jimin, wordlessly telling them to sit back down before they make things worse.

“Shit,” Jimin curses softly, letting go of the table and sliding back down on his seat. He rubs his face, a bit distressed. “Not again.”

Seokjin follows and frowns. “Has this happened before?”

“Just once, as far as I’m aware of,” Jimin reveals with an annoyed sigh, still angry about what happened. “Some asshole tried to touch her while she was cleaning a table. Jungkook saw and punched him, but it got messy. Namjoon ended up throwing that guy out.”

His frown deepens. “They didn’t tell me about this.”

“You were on a quest. What could you have done?”

“I’m going to take the day off tomorrow,” Seokjin informs you. He watches from the doorway as you apply a night cream on your face.

“As much as I’d love that, you don’t need to do that for me, Jin,” you tell him. “I know the guild is important to you.”

“You’re more important.”

You turn to face him. “Jin.”

“I miss you.” He means it. The mornings when the two of you would wake up and make breakfast together has almost become a distant memory.

The way you look at him then has his heart yearning. “I miss you, too.”

And it isn’t long before he closes the distance between you two, lips on yours in a kiss he can’t recall who started, wanting to make up for the time he lost.

Heeyeon eyes the bite-sized bruises on his neck. “There’s a meeting today.”

“I’m aware,” Seokjin replies, pretending that he doesn’t notice what she’s looking at.

It isn’t going too well. Especially with the way Jaehwan and Sunwoo are wagging their eyebrows at him.

“All the guild members have to attend,” Heeyeon continues. She doesn’t look away.

“Yes, I know.” Seokjin’s ears begin to turn red from the attention.

He doesn’t know what’s worse. That the two of you got a little carried away with just kissing, or that nothing explicit happened between you two yet. Maybe you could tell that he was tired or nervous, or maybe he was still trying to be a gentleman when you didn’t want him to be. But as he lies on your bed with you in his arms, the almost hanging over his head of what could’ve occurred that night, he realizes that there’s something he needs to tell you before he isn’t able to resist you anymore.

Junghwan suddenly sits next to him with a shit-eating grin on his face. “So, Seokjin, my best friend. I see you enjoyed your day off yesterday.”

Jaehwan and Sunwoo snort in laughter. Even Byulyi tries to hide her smile before she tries to get them quiet down. Other people in the guild are beginning to look their way.

Seokjin couldn’t ask for better timing as Adnan stands before the entire guild. They received an important mission from the capital.

“Our target is located around here,” he informs, pointing at a spot on the map. “We will need as many volunteers for this daunting task. My brother, Tariq, and I will also be accompanying you on this mission.”

Hearing that it will take multiple days to travel, investigate, and complete the mission has Seokjin wanting to pass it up.

Then, he hears the reward amount.

A collection of gasps and excited chatter fills the room. It’s the biggest bounty any of them have seen for one mission.

Junghwan clasps Seokjin’s shoulder and shakes it with excitement. “Did you hear that? We have to go!”

“I can’t.”

Team Seokjin all look at him with surprise. “Why not?”

“It’s… complicated,” he henges, not really sure how to explain the situation.

After what Jimin told him, he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone that long. He knows the others at the shop will take care of you, of course. And he knows that his earnings for this mission will be enough to take you all to his hometown like he had planned. But it’s still his job to protect you, even if he isn’t a warden anymore.

“Is your wife pregnant or something?” Sunwoo asks, then yelps in pain when Byulyi elbows him.

Seokjin runs his hand through his hair. He doesn’t catch what Sunwoo calls you as he answers, “It’s not that. I just… I have to talk to her about it.”

Jaehwan comments, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince your wife.”

Five pairs of eyes linger to the fading markings on his neck.

“I don’t think it’s up to me, Seokjin,” you tell him, hugging his arm as you sit on the front steps of the shop. Dusk colors the sky with pretty hues of orange and purple, but as the sun sinks beautifully beyond the horizon, you feel Seokjin’s eyes on you.

“I don’t have to go,” he reminds you quietly. He told you that plenty of people seemed interested in taking up the quest.

“But do you want to go?”

It’s obvious that Seokjin has found his place with the Freelancers. Despite how tired he is by the end of the day, he enjoys going on quests with his new friends, conquering daunting tasks, and reaping their rewards.

A starry-eyed Jungkook and a curious Taehyung eagerly listen when Seokjin recounts his adventures for the day. You catch him handing a lot of his earnings to Namjoon, telling him that it’s for the next trip to the market, for a night out when the shop is closed, to keep in their savings. You hear him tell Hoseok and Yoongi that he’ll buy them whatever they want too, whether it’s a new coat that Hoseok has been eyeing or some better-quality meat from the butcher Yoongi likes.

If his mission is successful, he might even take time off for a bit. Give himself a break to enjoy what he’s been missing and what he’s earned. It’d be foolish of him to refuse.

“I’ll be worried about you,” he continues with a woeful sigh. “You’ll be stuck with a bunch of 8/10s.”

“I think I’ll survive. What’s the worst that Jungkook can do?” you half-joke, but then you pause when you actually think about the possibilities. “Actually, never mind. I think we both should be very worried.”

He laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll miss you.”

“Not as much as I’ll miss you.” These days, you feel like that’s all you do. You miss him. Seokjin hasn’t been around as much since he joined the guild.

“I’ll make it up when I come back.”

“Or,” you begin, suddenly sitting up and looking him in the eye, “you can make it up to me now.”

“Can I admit something?” Seokjin begins, pressing his back against the lilac-colored sofa in his room. Red burns his ears and heats his face as your clothes slip off your body and fall on the ground. He feels like his entire body is on fire as you tilt your head, stripped of everything but your panties, and wait for him to continue. “I, uh… I don’t… I told you I was in a monastery before I became a warden, right?”

“Yes. You got kicked out,” you respond, stepping out of your clothes.

“For telling bad jokes,” he henges, seeming torn between looking away and staring at your body. You’re so gorgeous, it’s making him insane. “Anyway, funny thing that the monastery teaches—”

“Jin.”

“—lust to humans is a cardinal sin, and only the Wicked indulges in such—”

“We can just kiss like last time. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Seokjin peeks at your face, glances down at your chest, and then covers his entire face with his hands, muffling a groan. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but,” he takes your hand in his, “I know that for mages and even some humans, this isn’t a big deal. But it is to me. I just want you to understand that.”

“It’s fine, Jin. I understand. Let me just—” You start to pull away, but Seokjin keeps a firm hold on your hand, refusing to let it go.

“I don’t think you do, angel,” he says, tugging you closer to him again. “What I’m trying to say is that I love you. Truly. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.”

He sees his confession sink in on you. “Jin…”

“According to the Devoted, I’m damning my soul for you, you know. The least you could say is that you love me back.”

“I love you,” you giggle, and he isn’t sure who kisses who first, but suddenly, you’re on his lap. Your hands cup his jaw, tilting his head back as you lean down to kiss him, and his hand tentatively squeezes your breast. You sigh when you pull away from his lips and start to kiss his neck, revisiting some of the hickeys you left last time. “I like when you touch me.”

“Yeah?” He practically moans. He likes when you touch him too.

His clothes are off, and you seem just as fascinated with his body as he is with yours. You practically squeal and giggle when he suddenly picks you up with his strong arms and carries you to his bed. The whites of his bedding truly make you look like an angel as you lie on top of it.

Seokjin leans over you, kissing you deeply. When he pulls back, your eyes are still closed with content. Breathless, you murmur, “I like when you kiss me, too.”

He takes this as a cue to kiss you more. Touch you more. Your body is so soft and warm. His heart races with assurance that you’re enjoying this as much as he is. That you’re letting him know how to please you.

He takes you slowly, filling you entirely. He intends to take his time with you for the first time, but the way you whine and grasp his forearm has him desperate for more. The kisses become sloppier. His own grunts and moans against your skin, against your lips, only encourage you to help him chase that climax.

But a stubborn part of Seokjin wants to take care of you first.

A loud gasp is caught from your throat and your hips jerk slightly when you feel his thumb against your clit. Experimental touches as he continues to thrust into you. “Oh, fuck, Jin, I—”

He doesn’t need you to tell him that you liked that.

You come undone for him, and Seokjin is so in awe and so in love as the waves of pleasure leave you quivering and clenching around him. There’s a light sheen of sweat on your skin, but it makes you glow. He smiles a little as he gives you a moment to catch your breath before he hooks your leg around his waist again.

You meet his gaze, a bit surprised when you feel him still hard inside you. Seokjin chuckles and leans over to kiss you again.

He makes you cum two more times before he allows himself to finish.

It’s a little before 6:00AM when he hears it.

The loud crowing of the neighbor’s damn rooster.

A groan escapes Seokjin’s lips as he tries to sink further into the blanket, pulling the covers over his head. There’s a weight on him that’s preventing him from moving, and it isn’t until you’re both under the covers when he realizes it’s you.

Your brows are furrowed, waking up a little when you feel him stirring, but your eyes are still closed. Your lips are parted slightly as your breaths are still slow and even. And you’re cutely tucked against him, bare skin touching his and hair messy from sleep.

It’s probably the first time in a while that you’ve slept through the night.

And Seokjin suddenly has another reason to like the morning. Especially if it means waking up to you.

“You know,” Seokjin begins when you wake up, still in bed and under the covers with him. “According to all the Devoted sisters in the monastery, I should’ve been struck by lightning by now.”

“That so?” you ask, voice still full of sleep.

“Yep. Lightning first, then the end of civilization as we know it.”

“It could still happen,” you reply with a smirk.

“Are you insinuating that we test that?” he questions with a mischievous smile of his own. “Naughty girl.”

Your giggles are muffled with a kiss as Seokjin rolls on top of you.

“Ah, good you haven’t left yet!” Hoseok exclaims when you and Seokjin come down the stairs sometime later. In his hand is a beaded bracelet. “Taehyung and I wanted to give this to you. It’s another good luck charm. He worked really hard finding the prettiest beads so I can make this.”

Taehyung puffs out his chest with pride and nods his head.

Seokjin smiles as he puts it on. It reminds him of the one Hoseok gave him at Blackstone Castle when they were still weary of each other.

Things have changed a lot since then.

“Hyung, I’ve done some research on what beasts are in the areas you’re traveling to,” Namjoon says, carrying some notes in his hands. The dark circles beneath his eyes indicate that he’s been up all night putting it together for him. “I made a list of each of their weaknesses too in case you engage in battle with them.”

Jungkook’s eyes are a bit shiny as he hugs Seokjin. “I wish I could go with you, but since I can’t, you have to stay safe so you can tell me all about your quest.”

“What do you feel like eating, hyung? I’ll cook today,” Yoongi offers, already holding a pan and a cup of coffee in his hands.

Seokjin blinks, trying not to tear up.

Unlike the others in the shop, Seokjin is just human. He doesn’t have any special abilities or arcane knowledge that the mages and familiars have. Yet, he’s still very much loved by every person at the shop.

There’s a knock at the door, and Seokjin goes to open it, knowing that there’s only one person in town that comes by when the shop is closed.

Jimin smiles at him. “Everyone in town is talking about the mission the Freelancers are taking. Are you going with them? I thought to stop by and wish you luck if you are.”

“Yeah, I’ll be heading to the meeting spot soon,” Seokjin answers as he lets him in. Everyone is still at the breakfast table, and it’s loud and lively like it usually is. As Jimin looks on, there’s a hint of loneliness and yearning on his face. Like he’s still very much an outsider to you all. “Hey, could you do me a favor?”

“Hm? Oh, sure. What is it?”

From one mortal to another, he has a simple request. “Take care of my family, okay?”

Saying goodbye to you all is more difficult than he thought it would be. He knew it’d be hard. After escaping Blackstone Castle together, you and the others haven’t really been separated at all.

Team Seokjin are all gathered at the meeting spot. There are quite a few other teams that have volunteered as well. All of them are chatting and saying goodbye to loved ones, and the two brothers seem to be in the middle of an argument as they discuss their initial plans at their debrief.

Seokjin leans his back against the tree trunk, sitting down. He’s just waiting for the debrief to be over so that they can be given further instructions, but it seems to be taking a while.

He rummages through his pack, triple-checking that he has everything he needs while he’s still in town. He has the essentials: medical supplies, food rations, a canister for water, a hunting knife, clothes and toiletries. Hoseok snuck some of his potions and antidotes in his pack as well, disguising them as medicine. A small smile forms on his lips when he finds a small alpaca doll in his bag as well. He isn’t sure who put it in there, but he’s certain it’s been enchanted to watch over him.

Then, he finds the letter that he started writing to his parents. He never finished it, and never got to send it. He starts to miss you when he sees that the last thing he wrote was about how you’re everything to him.

With time on his hand, he decides to finish it.

Dear Mom and Dad,

When you last saw your son, he was sent to Blackstone Castle. He was a mortal among mages, suspicious of them and their magic. He believed the word of the Devoted and saw them as his enemies.

That man died when Blackstone Castle fell.

The man I am now is still your son, still very much alive and well as he is handsome. He is lacking and vulnerable in many ways, but he does his best to keep pushing forward. For himself, for his new-found family. He is still the son you raised so well, but a lot of things have changed since he left home.

I hope to tell you guys all about it in person soon.

Your son, Kim Seokjin

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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#magic shop series #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #bts smut #bts fantasy au #bts magic au #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts witch au

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oldxenomorph · 2 months

Text

heavy metals

pairing: reaper!nemesis/melinoe warnings: body horror, sexual content (sex with an eldritch machine, size difference, thigh riding, overstimulation), 18+ summary: nemesis returns after a century away from the crossroads, now a machine-goddess that serves the reaper emperor. her reunion with melinoë goes a step further, to make up for one hundred years of yearning.

The image lingered in her mind, replayed itself on a continuous loop, but she instead envisioned it was Melinoë’s ghostly hand touching her chest. Nemesis imagined that sickly green glow against the black metal, the slender bones shifting within and on command. She wished it was the faint teal of Melinoë’s lipstick on her neck; she would let Melinoë kiss her wherever she wanted, leave markings on her wherever she wanted. Retribution’s metal body covered in Nightmares’s kisses, kisses, kisses.

---

2392 CE

The end of the rain in Erebus brings with it the smell of petrichor. In the great megalopolises and urban sprawls, there is still that smell after the rains, but it’s different in the Crossroads. Earthen rainwater mixing with Hecate’s cauldron and Melinoë’s crops, the smell of garlic and wheat, nightshade and cattails, their oils drawn out by the biome itself. Erebus’s rain makes Nemesis smell like ozone, heavy and metallic, the result of making contact with her black hair and her red cloak that conceals her giant form. The biome extracts the scent of the outer void that clings to the goddess, from the many times she’s walked outside a ship, the vastness of her mother’s work all around her: dark matter, dark energy, gravity, the stars themselves, the arms of the galaxy wrapping around her.

Best to stay until the rains let up, Hecate had said. Nemesis hated the way the Titaness spoke to her. A cold and forced politeness, a frigid kind of formality. It was clear that the her presence was tolerated at most. We can’t have you return to your master soaked to the bone.

Like an old habit, Retribution Incarnate stood in the spot she used to guard, underneath a canopy of fabric and overgrown flora, wrapped upon her red cloak, her arms crossed underneath. The bowls of burning liquid were still there, a perpetual silver flame and silver fluid that hissed when the remnants of the rain made contact with it. Nemesis is eager to leave this place, she only came back to deliver a request to Hecate from Nyx. Although, the more she stands there, alone in her thoughts, she begins to believe that her mother (and the Emperor) had something else in mind with her visit. Nyx could have contacted Hecate whenever she wanted, why Nemesis for something that amounts to an errand? Something ferments in the air, gone sour; old tensions, memories, especially in this area.

Eventually, Nemesis makes up her mind to finally leave, taking a step out of the neglected tile circle towards the direction of the Crossroad’s exit.

“Nemesis?”

The familiar voice stops her. Retribution Incarnate turns around and sees Melinoë. She has not changed that much in a century; still wearing that saffron dress and pieces of armor made of a silver as dark and dazzling as the moon at night, her blonde hair still straight and just above her shoulders adorned with the pale crescent and the fire-licked laurels of her house, her frame still lithe and toned from all of her training and experience. Nemesis’s expression remains impassive, but inwards, seeing Melinoë again brings the sensation of cold needles sinking into her heart. It’s unexpected. She should have prepared herself to possibly see her again. She thought she timed this visit so she could avoid this. She should have left earlier.

Nemesis only gives Melinoë an unblinking stare that then drifts downward, noticing the glass bottle in the goddess’s hand. Bath salts.

“You’re leaving already? I was wondering if you’d like to join me in the Hot Springs. It’s been a while.”

“They’re not particularly special.” Nemesis’s voice is flanged, split from her old voice, all heavy and deeply distorted, like an old and corrupted audio file. In truth, she has not thought about the amenities of the Crossroads since she left. “The Ziggurat has many baths that are twice as nice and just as hot.”

“I’m sure, but the Hot Springs are different,” Melinoë reminds Nemesis, her feet that glow that burning coals bringing her a step closer to the towering goddess.

Retribution narrows her eyes, the golden illumination made more intense by her skepticism at the offer. “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden, Princess? The last time we left things, you were angry.”

A century of being apart hangs between them, time rotting away like a bloated dead body. The time when Nemesis came back, all new, the Wrath of the Emperor, to return things to Hecate, to wrap up things left undone before leaving to serve Extinction. She distinctly remembers the sting of the look of shock and horror on Melinoë’s face, how she moved away from her whenever she tried to get near, the tone of her voice. Anger. Confusion. Fear. (Heartbreak.)

Why give up everything that you are to become a machine? Are you Indoctrinated? Is your mind even your own? How do I know that you are still you?

A machine-goddess. Reaper technology. The Emperor’s black ichor pumping through her system. Nemesis’s eyes were the only gold left within her, the gold of her mother’s eyes.

The relationship with her siblings was made even more distant, but she could deal with that. None of Nyx’s children were close to begin with, and her transformation did not change that. Eris took it the worst. Strife Incarnate was always afraid of Extinction and the Reapers, her existential dread masked by her attitude. (Always knew you would go work for Her Imperial Reaper-ness and Nyx, Nemmie. What? Didn’t want to take orders from old Hecate anymore? Didn’t want to be my sister anymore? Were you ever my sister in the first place? Do you make that ‘dial-up noise’ whenever you wake up?) But Melinoë’s reaction stunned Nemesis, she didn’t expect it. And yet, it just confirmed the Crossroads was no longer a place for her. Nemesis had long outgrown it and everyone that called it home. It was not her home.

Melinoë looks down at the bottle of salts in her hands, her slender fingers settling on the edges, her thumbs running around the lip of the cork. She averts her gaze, as though still unable to truly look at Nemesis, as though to protect her own memory. Nemesis’s hard gaze is unrelenting, waiting for her to speak.

“I was angry, Nem. But…. I had some time to think about it.” The chthonic goddess holds out the bottle as a kind of olive branch. “Join me? For old time’s sake at least.”

Nemesis doesn’t respond for a few seconds, the silence peppered with the sounds of the Crossroads: the bubbling of the cauldron, the rustling of reeds and cattails, the hissing of brazers burning. Then, a single word.

“Fine.”

---

2295 CE

The other Revenants helped Nemesis into the bath, their many sets of metal hands guiding her as she walked. Nemesis towered over them with her new height. Getting used to her new equilibrium, her new height, her new weight was proving to be the more difficult than the waiting. It felt like she was not entirely in control of her body, even though it moved as she commanded, synthetic tendons and cords obeying every signal from her brain. How was she supposed to protect her mother, if she could not walk?

Nemesis’s strange, yellow optics looked down at the pool, the water lit from within, steam rising against the blue light. Like all places within the Ziggurat, the room was dark, except for the pool and the technology in the machine-women that held her up. The darkness Nemesis was used to was sometimes cold and wet, sometimes it smelled of ash and incense and whatever bubbled in Hecate’s cauldron. She remembered Melinoë’s garden, lit by sickly green and silver braziers, her crops soaking up the rain in Erebus.

Hot, blue water. Not unlike the hot springs in the Crossroads. The pain made Nemesis see Melinoë in the steam, mismatched eyes and wet ashen blonde hair, the moisture revealing her hair’s true texture, the soft ringlets that framed her face.

When she took the next step, Nemesis landed on her foot in an awkward way and it sent pain shooting through her synthetic nerves. Revenants helped her adjust, their flanged and distorted voices reminded her to put her weight on them, let them do the heavy lifting, she must concentrate on recovery. A few more months, a few more surgeries, and then the conditioning, retraining her body, reshaping her mind; everything made in the image of the Emperor, her vision for Retribution Incarnate.

Her body felt so heavy.

Nemesis heard Melinoë’s voice as her cybernetic eyes flickered, glassy from the pain.

How long has it been since you last took off the armor?

Revenants helped her to the bath’s threshold, until Nemesis insisted that she could walk by herself. She left the arms of the machine-women, her body lumbering forwards. At one point it felt like she was going to tip over, but she regained her balance, even if it sent another wave of agony through her system. Slowly, Nemesis sank into the scalding hot water, the salts sizzling upon contact with the metal of her frame. The same salts Lilith used to help heal the Emperor-as-Shepard’s body after the Skyllian Blitz, or so it was said to her. They felt good, even better with the heat sinking into every small space between synthetic parts. The pain subsided, lowering itself to something dull and manageable for the time being.

When the pain went away, so did the vision of Melinoë.

Something within Retribution ached, made her heart thump against the metal cage of her chest. Nemesis was alone in the heat and the darkness, the Revenants that helped her having taken their leave, to give her privacy. Metal fingers gently touch the place where her heart was, the new biomechanical organ beating steadily; it was the thump of her own pulse, the yearning making it loud, making it hurt.

Nemesis’s eyes drifted downwards at her own reflection in the water, the ripples distorting her face. The changes to her face took also took some getting used to: the exposed metal jaw, her eyes that glowed with the same color of cybernetics as her mother’s primordial starlight eyes, the faint black veins underneath what remained of her skin.

Every time Nemesis looked at herself, she saw her mother. Nyx’s hair, Nyx’s eyes, Nyx’s lips. And every time Nemesis looked at herself, she saw the Emperor. In the structure of her face, the architecture of her body, in the hardness of her eyes, in the way she sets her mouth, in her lines and angles.

It is undeniable that Nyx shaped her in the Emperor’s image. When she first learned this, Nemesis believed she carried eight million years of her mother’s loneliness. But during this process, she learned, slowly, that it was not loneliness that prompted Nyx to shape her this way, but love. A daughter, beloved and brutal as the Emperor.

When she looked up from her reflection, Nemesis stared ahead into the darkness of the room and saw many sharp, wet, metallic smiles. The darkness swarmed just beyond the threshold of the pool, beyond the blue light.

---

The stone pathway to the hot springs remains the same since Nemesis left.

In the darkness just beyond where the light of the hot springs touches, Nemesis watches Melinoë get into the hot, glowing water. Her strange eyes study how the goddess’s bones move under her flesh, how they move in her ghostly arm. Her blonde hair was already beginning to dampen from the steam even before she dipped her head into the water, ringlets forming, strands sticking to her neck. Nemesis’s eyes follow the line of Melinoë’s shoulders, down her arms and the curves of her waist and hips.

The sound of water moving interrupts her trance-like stare, her cybernetic eyes flickering as she blinked. “The water’s fine, Nem.” Melinoë calls out. “You can come in.”

Underneath the red of the cloak, Nemesis’s chest rises with a slow inhale. The water did look enticing, the heat pulling at her, wanting to sink into her frame. She could always leave whenever she felt like it, nothing was keeping her here as no longer part of the Unseen. But she might as well join Melinoë. She did not come all this way for nothing.

Emerging from the shadows and into the the green-yellow light, Retribution’s hands part the redness to undo the pin that held the special crimson garment together. Melinoë turns around just as the last bit of the fabric slips away.

Nemesis’s body is all metal, pitch black, aside from the red lights of the Emperor’s technology, Reaper technology, and the upper half of her face. No other flesh remains, even internally where her vital organs had become replaced with biomechanical ones, specially made just for her. Thick synthetic sinew moves when she does, in addition to the various interlocking cybernetic parts, mechanisms, servos, and pistons inside and outside her frame. Hardly any part of her has the curves of organic life, she is angular and devastating. Woven throughout her shape are wires and cables made of the same black metal and inorganic material, slipped between her synthetic muscles, between the planes of metal on the broadest parts of her body; visible in her neck, her chest, her arms, her legs, nestled safely within her giant frame, like a network of heavy, solid arteries and veins. Down the middle of her broad back is a thick metal spine.

There is an elegance to Nemesis’s new, horrific body. Everything works together, in tandem, efficiently utilizing the Reaper technology, the new black material within her, and her own divine power. She removes the armor attachments that bulked up her already impressively large frame, setting them next to the red cloak and Stygius. Nemesis is an engine, a core, a fortress, a warhead.

She still has her long hair, beautiful, the color of Nyx’s. A midnight black, a night sky without stars. When Nemesis removes her headband, emblazoned with the Sign of Extinction, and pulls apart the ring holding the bun atop her head, her hair tumbles down, cascading down her shoulders and back, a curtain of blackness that matches her body. She sets her earrings next to her headband atop the folded up cloak.

Melinoë’s mismatched eyes look at Nemesis with awe. Retribution’s heavier and much taller body means she moves differently, her equilibrium has changed. It took her over a year to get used to it. Salts in the water react upon contact with Nemesis’s body as she lowers herself into the pool, activating, hissing and sizzling. The water is as she remembered, not to hot or too cold. Just right.

The two goddesses sit across from one another, the length of green pool separating them. Like being an ocean apart, but something in Nemesis didn’t mind it. She closes her eyes, feeling the warmth sink into her. Despite her body being made of metal, the hot springs made her keenly aware of the areas with the most strain. It had been a while since she indulged in such relaxation.

“I meant it when I said I had a lot of time to think, Nem.”

Nemesis opens her eyes and raises her head to look at Melinoë. For a while, she does’t respond, just stares at the the goddess across from her as she thinks. Her body radiates a thrum, a sound akin to that of a Reaper capital ship, low and deep, the immensity of Extinction compressed into her shape.

“Is this your way of apologizing to me?”

Melinoë furrows her brows at Nemesis’s reply.

“We’re not rivals anymore, Princess. And we’re not the same as we once were thousands of years ago.” The voice of Retribution Incarnate pronounces every word with intention, every syllable deliberate, spoken with a weight. “I thought you of all people would have understood, especially after Makaria was born. Not wanting history to repeat itself. Finding your true purpose. You would do anything to protect your family. This is how I protect mine.”

I am keeping my vow to Mother Nyx.

“I get that now, but at the time, it felt like you were abandoning us. One day you were gone and when I saw you again, I hardly recognized you. I saw that symbol on your headband and…. I don’t know, it scared me.” Now it is Melinoë’s turn to initiate the silence, the pause between responses. Her face changes, softens, looks regretful, vulnerable. “Funny. I was the first of the Unseen to make contact with her and I’m still scared of her. Even though she and her family have been nothing but kind to me.”

The flesh half of Nemesis’s lips forms a slight slant. In the past, she would have harped on Melinoë, she would said what she believed was the true root of goddess’s feelings out loud and bluntly, perhaps even bitterly. They would have argued again and things would remain as they were when Nemesis left. Part of her wants to push back, instead all she does is look at Melinoë with an irritated expression.

Fear of the Emperor is a convenient excuse, Nemesis thinks to herself. Yet, there is a truth to what she says. Melinoë has always been afraid of the Emperor and the Great Family, ever since she first made contact with them. Yet, Retribution wonders if she more afraid of the Reapers, the Emperor’s soul, the actual instruments of the cycle of extinction. She distinctly remembers the emphasis Melinoë put on the word ‘Indoctrination’ that day a century ago. It wasn’t just the fear of the Emperor or the Reapers that scared Melinoë. Something else haunted her.

Golden cybernetics notice the way the goddess’s green and red eyes look down at the hot water, how the heat makes her pale skin warmer with color, how her shoulders seem to be tight with tension. Nemesis’s gaze eases slightly when she sees how Melinoë has her hands clasped together. Flesh and magic intertwined, her fingers tangled together tightly. The younger goddess’s body language spoke the truth for her, it told Nemesis everything, even if her mouth could not form the words right now.

Retribution Incarnate glances at her own reflection in the water and sees her own truth, the reason why she made this decision. And it was her choice, made of her own free will, although her sisters would say this outcome was fated the moment Nyx gave birth to her.

A deep breath leaves Nemesis, biomechanical lungs expanding and contracting within her chest, pressing against her aching heart. She doesn’t know if she can endure another century like this, letting her yearning eat away at her, letting her memories of Melinoë consume her thoughts at all hours. They both have went through enough, made their own choices, learned to live with them and move on.

“I believe you,” she says, looking up just in time to catch Melinoë’s reaction of her eyes widening slightly in relief. “Next time, don’t take a century to tell me the truth. It’ll be better for the both of us.”

You deserve better.

For a while, Nemesis is silent as she looks into the water, eyes following the ripples that radiate from their bodies. Yearning pulls at her vocal chords, yearning compels her to finally speak. “When I was in recovery, I thought a lot about you. I thought a lot about moments like this. I missed the nectar you would bring me. I missed these invitations to the hot springs. Even missed our sparring, the things we used to do when I would sneak out of the Crossroads.” The heat of the springs brings her back to all the times her mind conjured up Melinoë’s appearance, all the memories that the Ziggurat and the Reaper technology pulled to the forefront of her brain during those years when she was drowning in agony, every time she went under for surgery, every time she stared into the dark of outer space. “I found my true purpose, but it still felt like something was missing.”

The playback in her head is interrupted when Nemesis felt the chthonic goddess link her arms around her neck, her face pressing against the column of metal and thick chords that holds up her head. Nemesis feels her pulse pounding her chest, in her cabled throat, it rings in her ears.

“I missed you too, Nemesis,” Melinoë says, her voice heavy with longing, “I don’t want another century to go by without you.”

This is the second time Nemesis is rendered speechless, stunned. A thousand things flood her brain. The feeling of Melinoë’s body pressing against hers, her voice, her face finding comfort in the crook of her neck, I missed you; she wants to wrap her arms around the goddess, she wants to press her lips against her cheek, she wants to squeeze her so tightly, she wants and wants and wants. Instead, Retribution carefully takes Melinoë’s ghostly hand, holding it in her own larger one of black metal. For a moment, Nemesis marvels at how well it fits into her own, how her fingers came together to rest in her palm. When that moment passes, she places the goddess’s hand over where her biomechanical heart, letting her feel its rhythmic beating against her ghostly fingertips.

“I've waited a long time for this, Melinoë.”

---

ABOUT A MONTH AGO.

Nemesis had not meant to turn the corner just as the Nyx left the Emperor’s office, but she quickly walked back, concealing her form behind the wall of black rock and resin. Certain spaces in the Ziggurat were tighter than others, not as vast or open as other levels. A century later, she was still getting used to navigating the building, understanding how it shifts; she followed the loudness of the thrum, sometimes the sounds the Emperor’s daughters made in the vents. The First Prince knew how to traverse the building’s entirely in a single day, but that was expected of him as its caretaker.

A tightening in her chest, pulled at the machine-goddess as she listened to the voices of her mother and the Emperor. She glanced around the corner and watched them. Cybernetic eyes immediately landed on the way Nyx’s hand rested on the Emperor’s chest, how her slender fingers moved over its black biomechanical structure, just barely slipping underneath that imperial black robe. Fingers that knew every texture and pattern, every ridge and groove. Her hand rested on the space over the great entity’s heart.

“I have a few more things to do,” the Emperor said, the coldness of her deep, machine voice possessing a warmth only for Nyx. In her red and black eyes, there was only love and adoration for the goddess; long, spidery fingers gently traced the line of Nyx’s jaw, before caressing her pale cheek. “Then I will join you.”

“Good. I will waiting.” Nyx’s ethereal, ancient voice is tinged with a playfulness that Nemesis has rarely heard, a tone that was clearly only for the Emperor. In her voice was a great love for the entity. Though Nemesis could not see her eyes, she imagined they had a look of affection, incandescent with devotion.

The Emperor leaned down to eagerly kiss the Night, her scarred lips claiming the goddess’s with a passion, a hunger. Nyx’s hand moved upwards, following the architecture of the Emperor’s chest and neck until she was cradling her face. Large black tentacles began to wrap around the goddess’s waist.

It felt wrong watch her mother and the Emperor being intimate. Nemesis quickly looked away just as they kissed, moving back behind the corner. Her metal hand gently touched where her own biomechanical heart was and felt her own pounding heartbeat underneath her fingertips. The image lingered in her mind, replayed itself on a continuous loop, but she instead envisioned it was Melinoë’s ghostly hand touching her chest. Nemesis imagined that sickly green glow against the black metal, the slender bones shifting within and on command. She wished it was the faint teal of Melinoë’s lipstick on her neck; she would let Melinoë kiss her wherever she wanted, leave markings on her wherever she wanted. Retribution’s metal body covered in Nightmares’s kisses, kisses, kisses.

Nemesis set her jaw as the longing pulled at her.

It was a while before she emerged from around the corner and crossed the threshold, entering the Emperor’s office. When she entered, the entity was standing before a large projection of the Milky Way, her shape eclipsing the light of the galaxy. Nemesis lowered her head slightly in respect.

She watched the way the way the Emperor’s great tentacles moved in tandem to her walking, keeping the equilibrium of her greta height and size. Nemesis’s mind wandered, even as the entity got closer, thinking about what she saw, what she was looking at. Maybe she could enhance her body to have tentacles like the Emperor. Somewhere deep in her mind and behind her cybernetic eyes, she envisioned herself with such enhancements with Melinoë in her lap, the goddess’s back arching, her name on those teal-smeared lips.

A sound akin to a laugh came from the Emperor, a deep and unsettling sound. It broke Retribution’s train of thought, derailed it into oblivion. Nemesis forgot that she was connected to the entity now, her thoughts must have been so loud. It was mildly embarrassing. A dark blush, the color of a deep bruise, formed underneath what remained of Nemesis’s skin, spreading and darkening the black veins.

“You truly are my daughter.”

The Emperor’s voice was the sound of annihilation, a teeth-rattling baritone, cold, unfeeling, immense. But Nemesis could hear something that was uncharacteristic of how it was normally presented. Maternal. The kind of voice she used for her daughters. Nemesis heard it whenever the Emperor had her arms full of new and young daughters or whenever the drones and queens curled around her.

A cold, pale hand reached forward to gently touch Retribution’s face. Nemesis looked up at the Emperor, taking in her presence at this closeness. Golden cybernetics gazed into those strange red and black eyes, the death cycles of stars, celestial bodies eaten in real time. Nyx made every splendid stellar formation just for her to devour. In the Emperor’s eyes, Nemesis saw the end of Earth, the death of Sol, the collision of the Milky Way and Andromeda, the darkness when every star is consumed, the end of the universe.

Extinction.

“The yearning you feel cannot last, Nemesis. It will eat you if nothing is done,” the Emperor said. She knew about her aching heart, how it never stopped hurting even long after her transformation. Retribution Incarnate looked up at the End of Everything with wide eyes, golden cybernetics vibrating with awe. “Your mother would not want you to wait, she did not make you to be a vessel of longing. I do not want you to wait.”

---

Nemesis presses deep, bruising kisses all along Melinoë’s neck, her chest, her stomach. If she could not mark her with lipstick, then she would mark her in other ways that would last much longer. She’s thought about what her kisses would look like underneath that saffron dress, barely concealed by its length. She’s thought about the way Melinoë’s gorget would conceal all the markings she’d leave behind, secrets only she would know about. Melinoë sank a hand into the machine-goddess’s damp hair as she arched her back slightly off the heated stone floor of the hot springs, pressing her body into those hard kisses.

It has been a while since Retribution Incarnate has touched flesh. She has forgotten how soft it is compared to metal. Melinoë’s body is supple and pliant in her hands. The sounds she makes when Nemesis’s kneads the softness of her breasts and her thighs will be played back in her head later. Her sighs of pleasure, her warmed flesh, the sensations that drive her to whisper the machine-goddess’s name, the gasps and whimpers when she is kissed or touched in a certain way, stimulations more potent than nectar, more intoxicating than ambrosia. Nemesis claims the inside of the goddess’s thighs, marking them with her hard kisses.

Melinoë sharply arches her back and a drawn out moan escapes her as the machine-goddess presses her heated tongue against her warmth. Black metal fingers squeeze the flesh of the chthonic goddess’s thighs again as Retribution begins to devour her, slowly, savoring flesh that’s meant be worshiped, adoration in the act of consumption, to taste her lover in full. Metal sinks deeper into the goddess, deeper into her desire, pulling out all semblance of speech and thought. Melinoë’s reactions fuel Nemesis: the moans that slip out of her lungs and leave her lips, the hand that tightens in her black hair, the way she presses herself against her mouth, needing more and more and more. But it was her name in Melinoë’s voice that made desire coil tightly in her insides.

Her name in difference cadences, whispered and moaned, staggered upon whimpers whenever she touches and kisses bundles of sensitive nerves, punctuated by gasps and sighs. Melinoë’s voice sounds like a song, one only for Nemesis. Especially when she climaxes the first time, repeating the name of Retribution over and over again, holding her head in place as her body contorted and writhed in pure pleasure.

Nemesis takes it all in, hums against where she’s most sensitive, the vibrations of her flanged voice causing Melinoë to whine.

Pulling herself up, golden cybernetics hungrily look over the the goddess underneath her. Desire grows within her, it feels like electricity and dark energy building up, coiling, writhing, tightening within her center, like a mass effect drive core just before it makes contact with a mass relay. Melinoë lays there, damp blonde hair sticking to the skin on her neck, barely covering the markings, the deep imprints of Nemesis’s kisses, her chest rising and falling with every deep breath, the flushed color that spread throughout her body, her mortal ancestry making her even warmer, hotter.

Retribution Incarnate holds her great body over Melinoë’s. The black metal of her shape blocks out the light of the springs, engulfing her in darkness, black hair spilling over her shoulders, further concealing the goddess underneath her. In the darkness of the space between their bodies, Nemesis’s cybernetic eyes, Reaper technology, and Melinoë’s ghostly arm provide the only illumination, gold and red like a twin-star system in a red nebula, and the sickly green light capturing the textures and intricacies of her body. An audible exhale leaves the machine-goddess as Melinoë touches her body, slender fingers made from flesh and magic moving over the sections of her chest, her shoulders, down her great arms.

Fingers that grip Retribution’s metal forearms, following their architecture, moving up to spread wide as they fill themselves with metal biceps and triceps, anatomy constructed by Reaper technology and cybernetic augmentation. “More, please. Nemesis.”

In a single motion, Nemesis pushes her thigh between Melinoë’s legs. The younger goddess’s lips immediately fall agape as the angles of the metal limb press against nerves still raw and sensitive, eliciting another whine. Half-flesh, half-metal lips immediately claim Melinoë’s bare ones; Nemesis kisses her hard, devours her again, and again, and again. An unrelenting kiss, one that Melinoë moans into as she begins to rock her hips, slowly, finding the place that brings her the most pleasure. The chthonic goddess uses Nemesis’s arms as support, holding onto her, even when she squeezes her thighs around the other’s, riding the waves of pleasure surging through her.

Nemesis finds herself moving her own hips, chasing that sensation within her. As much as she enjoys this, she’d rather have Melinoë on top of her, riding her. Through the haze of lust that swarms inside her skull, she makes a note to ask the Revenants how they engage in such acts, how they compensate, how they handle desire and sex. A deep hunger begins to grow inside the machine-goddess, something insatiable. If she could, she would have Melinoë every night, to satisfy the one hundred years of longing, every night of holding her soft body in her hands. Nemesis presses her thigh harder against the goddess as she leans down to kiss her neck, wanting such tenderness in her mouth, feeling the vibrations of Melinoë’s voice against her strange lips.

A groan leaves her. Heavily distorted, her voices splitting and reforming and splitting, pleasure lining her insides. The heat and electricity slid down her spine and into her shoulder blades, slipped into her hips, it makes her groan again. Melinoë grips Nemesis’s forearms tighter, her hips moving faster, her breath quickening, her sounds becoming more desperate as she reaches her peak.

It has been a while since Nemesis felt Melinoë’s strength. The chthonic goddess’s grip tightens around her metal arms as she comes again, her body squirming and arching, the back of her head pressing against the stones. Nemesis lowers her body slightly, her thighs pressing into Melinoë at a new angle, prolonging her orgasm as she holds onto the machine-goddess with all her might, as her legs clamp down around the limb that she was riding. She sounded so beautiful at the zenith of her pleasure, moaning, whimpering, gasping, clinging to Nemesis for stability. It makes that desire that’s been tightening in her core amplify the way raw pleasure takes the form of pressure that makes her entire system ache, makes it feel like her heart is going to explode in her chest. Nemesis feels herself climbing, all by watching Melinoë, all my being the source of her climax.

Nemesis doesn’t experience an orgasm the same way, but something akin to it happens within her body. That pressure, that tightness within her that made everything warm, that feeling of a mass of dark energy and electricity growing, spreading through her synthetic nerves, finally releases. Nemesis moans, her distorted voice rising in pitch as she feels her pleasure fire inside her like a railgun; she moans Melinoë’s name over and over again as she rides her climax, as she curls her metal fingers inwards into fists. She feels her orgasm between her legs, in her gut, in her chest, in her throat; it consumes her, it devours her, it swarms around her heart. Her zenith feels like a hole opening up in her head, a hole waiting to be filled with more Reaper technology and Melinoë’s love. Nemesis groans through the sensation, finding it to be both pleasurable and painful, all at once.

When Nemesis collapses, she makes sure she does so next to Melinoë. If she could, she would have fallen asleep right then and there. Her eyes flicker, heavily lidded, adjusting to the new sensation of both clarity and the absence of any meaningful thought.

The smaller, chthonic goddess sits up, placing her hand on Retribution’s metal frame that rises and falls with every deep breath, her face wearing a slightly worried expression. “Nemesis?” She pushes black strands of hair away from the machine-goddess’s face. “Are you alright?"

“I’m fine.” Nemesis exhales. “This was…. My first time doing this in this body.” Melinoë offers her a small smile, relieved.

Retribution lifts herself up slightly so she can turn onto her side. The stone floor felt nice against her body, especially against her synthetic muscles. It feels good enough to fall asleep. The skin around Nemesis’s eyes begins to strain, the heat beckons her to close her eyes. At this point, she has neither the strength nor the willpower to keep her eyes open. Melinoë lifts up the machine-goddess’s arm, crawling underneath it and positioning herself against her chest, fitting perfectly in her embrace. Part of Nemesis would like to stay this for a long time, perhaps even forever. Instinctively, she drapes her arm over the younger goddess’s frame, but not before pulling her closer.

“Eventually I’ll have to go back,” Nemesis says, her flanged voice producing only tired syllables.

“I know….” Melinoë touches the machine-goddess’s face with her ghostly hand. “Please stay, Nemesis. Just for a little while.”

Nemesis says nothing for a little while, succumbing to a micro-nap, only cracking open her eyes just long enough to formulate a reply. Golden light pours through the slits, their illumination directed only at the goddess that was also falling asleep. “Anything for you, Melinoë.”

#creative impulses #creation: writing #hades game #hades 2 #mass effect #melinoe hades #nemesis #nemesis hades #hades nemesis #nemesis x melinoe #melnem #you can tell i'm still trying to find nemesis's voice but! i did it!#nyx and the emperor are very proud of her #anyway time for me to pass out and snooze

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