#The Boy Who Lived and Died and Lived Again

[public-benches]

Hi I was one of the campers during that year (go valks) and I want to add a little reporting from the kids’ perspective because this event haunted the camp for years after it happened. Like everyone knew the Zac Efron Died story even if you weren’t there that year and if you WERE there that year it was retold like an oral history passed down between generations because again, no technology to share it with and nothing more than a few ambitious girls’ diaries as evidence cataloguing this great historical landmark.

Anyways I was there that year, and as some cultural context for readers, the way that young girls create community when cut off from the outside world and the internet and without any men around is… kind of incredible. We all wore uniforms, like just white collared shirts and blue fabric shorts every day, and I didn’t think much of it at the time but I think that really contributed to breaking down social barriers that might have otherwise remained from The Real World. There was nothing else to do or worry about for an entire month, so we lived pretty harmoniously in this bubble and made our own fun.

The Zac Efron Incident was like a fire catching in a field of dead grass. The downside of cutting a large community of girls off from the outside world is that every scrap of information becomes 100 times more precious and impactful, and there’s nothing to distract us from supposed tragedy.

Some people remember where they were during 9/11. I remember where I was when Zac Efron “died”. I was in line for the showers because that was usually the time mail was distributed. One moment everything was normal. The next, everyone around me was breaking out into the same conversation: “oh my god, did you hear? Is it true? So and so told me that so and so’s bunkie got a letter saying… yeah she saw it! It’s true!” And then the town criers came wailing down the streets: “ZAC EFRON IS DEAD!” And the whispering turned into chaos, and girls were crying and clinging to each other and running to tell their friends in their cabins, and it was a whole mess.

For my part, I had never seen high school musical. I knew the name Zac Efron but I couldn’t place a face to save my life. I didn’t care if this guy had died. Half the girls in my cabin didn’t care either. What we REALLY cared about was joining the fun, because this was the craziest thing to happen at camp the whole month we’d been there, and we were barely in middle school, and obviously girls our age were supposed to care about hot TV boys, so we played along. Everyone else was upset, so I had to be upset to appropriately share in the others’ pain, but mostly I was just having fun. I didn’t take to the streets or anything myself but I enjoyed the rush of adrenaline every time I heard another cabin go up in screams because someone knew found out, and people came running in and out of our cabin like at least twenty times to make sure we knew too and that they hadn’t missed anybody. It was less that they wanted everyone to know and more that everyone wanted to witness the moment when the news broke to someone who hadn’t heard it yet. Girls who wouldn’t have given me the time of day on the Outside were desperate to keep me in the loop at camp, and for a little oddball like me this was quite the addictive thrill.

But because of this, it was also really difficult to calm the girls down and convince us Zac Efron was alive. We didn’t want to believe it: this was the biggest thing that had happened all month, and it was a lie? So a lot of girls held out in their mourning, either out of genuine conviction or just because it was fun to be so upset about something that big, and the knowledge that it was probably not true almost made it safer to engage with the idea that it could be. Schrödinger’s Zac Efron: he’s both alive and dead until camp ends and the girls can see for themselves whether or not it’s true. I’m pretty sure on the final day of camp when some girls got their phones back it was the very first thing they looked up.

But yeah, I don’t know if anything quite that nuclear ever hit camp again. It was a perfect storm. The day Zac Efron died.

The most dramatic moment during my Camp Counseling career at an all girls camp was when a girl got a letter from a friend saying that Zac Efron had died and one of her bunkmates ran out of the cabin and shouted “ZAC EFRON IS DEAD!!!!!” and the camp immediately fell into chaos girls were crying in the middle of camp and running around spreading the news everyone was yelling and the counselors had to look up wether or not Zac Efron was dead (this is a wireless camp so the girls couldn’t access the internet and check for themselves) and then get out a megaphone and be like “ZAC EFRON IS NOT DEAD PLEASE REMAIN CALM” outside of all the cabins it was insanity. 

[sxpphotales]

isn’t it devastating? the entirety of squid game season 2-3. sure, the storytelling was bad and the plot was horrendous, but the realization of what happens to them now.

hyun ju died not knowing who killed her and not knowing if jun hee and geum ja and the baby escaped. she died thinking she was the reason why the rebellion failed and that she should’ve been more cautious. she died thinking that she could’ve saved everyone, but she didn’t and that it’s her fault.

young mi died knowing she was a burden and that she wanted to have a home. she finally found the people that she could laugh and be safe around, but she won’t even know if hyun ju and the others made it.

yong sik died wanting to save him and his mother. he died with the thoughts that he wanted to leave with his own mom and that he was everything to her, so he wanted to kill jun hee to be with his mother. that’s a son’s determination.

geum ja died after killing her own son. thinking that she couldn’t protect him. thinking that she couldn’t convince the people to vote to leave and that’s why jun hee suffered too. she killed her own son, the boy she saw after birthing, raising, and loving. even in the midst of abuse, her son was her light and she turned it off.

min su died knowing that he couldn’t ever be anything more than dust and that he was the reason why semi died. he died wanting to be appreciated, but he was called a fucking bitch instead. his last thoughts in mental instability were all about semi. the one woman who truly loved him as him.

nam gyu died in a frenzy and chaos. drugs that intoxicated his mind in a state of anxiety. he died violent and fearful. the drugs that rotted his mind so badly. he was constantly called by the wrong name and mocked. he still hears the voices and he’s aching til his last breath.

thanos died with fury and desperation. he was forced to live even after losing his career and his entire life savings. he wanted to die, but he was forced to live, and even then, he was killed by the man that ruined his entire life, even if it was indirectly.

semi died not knowing if min su even made it. she genuinely cared about min su and wanted to help him out, but she was betrayed by him. she felt betrayed by the boy who she supposedly ‘loved’ and appreciated and she was killed by the man who hated her deeply.

gyeong su died thinking that thanos and the others abandoned him. gyeong su died wanting to be accepted and seen by his dream idol and celebrity role model, but he was abandoned and killed for being too trusting and too loyal.

jun hee died thinking that her boyfriend left her and not even naming her own child. she died knowing she was a burden and that she couldn’t have survived anyways. she purposefully fell, hopeless and lost. she wanted to live for her child, but for her child, she had to die.

dae ho died afraid and angry. he was scared, he wasn’t even in the marines. he doesn’t know how any of this works and he was forced into the situation due to the toxic masculinity he implanted in himself. he died thinking that he killed everyone and that nobody will ever forgive his fears.

jung bae died, not knowing what was happening, and calling out to his best friend that he cared so much about. he died thinking that gi hun was going to die too and got so scared when he wasn’t involved in any of the plans in the first place—he just followed through to help his best friend’s smile return.

gi hun died with questions unanswered, all of his friends dead, his mother gone, his promise unfulfilled, goals unachieved (since american squid games are a thing), and his own daughter abandoned. he died with so much raw human emotions and pure guilt. he died sorrowful, angry, tired, depressed, lost, wise, guilty, regretful, and glad. he always wanted to die; he was suicidal, but god did he die with not enough. a billionaire who could’ve won squid games again, but he was too good of a heart. he was too human to kill the baby.

the unnamed baby doesn’t even have parents. jun ho still thinks that his brother abandoned him without knowing the reason why. in ho still lives separated from his family and thinking that gi hun did something that he couldn’t do. all of those families are hopeless, thinking that their broke daughter or son or father or mother or friend got drunk and passed out again. nobody will know. the games are forever a mystery; that’s the worst part about it. no one will remember them anymore. they’re all truly gone.

[faramirsonofgondor]

Something something time travel shenanigans where Dick is de-aged to nine years old. He’s a little murder gremlin who wants nothing more than his family, and he can’t get that so settles for bloodlust and revenge. Except now he’s in the future where he does a family, even if he doesn’t them yet. He gets to know them over time, he grows particularly close with Alfred, though he loves Bruce and Tim as well. Then he hears someone mention Jason, a boy Dick has never met. Bruce won’t tell him anything and the others are frustratingly quiet, so Dick does some digging. He finds out he had another brother. The boy in the photos he finds is small and thin, but his smile is one of the brightest things Dick has ever seen. Dick doesn’t understand why Bruce would have kept this from him. Then he finds out more. He learns that Joker killed him, that another person tore his family away from him, that another person he loved was left unavenged.

And Dick gets angry. Not his usual screaming, biting tantrums kind of angry. No, this anger is much colder. He knows from experience that Batman won’t let him kill, and he knows that for whatever reason the others are probably on board with that, seeing as they haven’t killed Joker either. Dick knows he only has one shot at this, and he has to plan this carefully so he doesn’t give himself away or implicate himself more than he means to. He waits for Joker to break out Arkham, watches him as he takes sanctuary in some old decrepit warehouse, and then executes his grand plan; the last joke that Joker will ever live to see, his last laugh. Nobody really knows how he does it. They all know he did it, but there’s no way to prove it, despite the real story being hysterically implausible. There’s no way that Joker died slipping on a banana peel, right? It had to be some sort of set up, some sort of foul play or something. After all, several goons mentioned the unnerving cackles coming from all around the building even after they’d found the corpse, the laugh being identical to one they’d heard so many years ago.

Meanwhile, Red Hood is crashing out in distance, upset over the fact that a fucking banana peel managed to spoil all of his carefully laid plans. When he’s done with his fit of rage, he catches wind of the fact that people are suspecting that fucking ghost of Robin or some other magical shit is what really killed Joker. Jason has a brief moment where he wonders if there’s actually a 15 year old ghost version of himself that just murked Joker. Then he hears people talking about how the murderer’s distinctly creepy cackle, and he’s thrown back to the time he was watching footage of Dick’s time as Robin and saw him drop 20 feet onto some guys arm while cackling the whole time. He’s so fucking confused by everything that he just decides to stop with the drama and confront Bruce directly. Instead of the reaction he was expecting (tears, shock, fear, denial?) Bruce just sighs and mutters something along the lines of “Of course” (Bruce is now convinced that tiny Dick raised Jason from the dead somehow so his family can be complete again) before telling Jason that Dick is upstairs and to talk to him. Jason is more than a little annoyed at being brushed off but decides he’ll deal with it later because he wants his answers first. His answer comes in the shape of a 9 year old bloodthirsty child sprinting at him full force and latching onto him like a koala bear. After ten minutes, Jason gives up on dislodging him and resigns himself to having to live in the manor for the rest of his life or until they fix Dick’s situation (though he’s doubtful that adult Dick would be willing to let him go either).

Eventually Dick gets re-aged and does not, in fact, let go of Jason. Bruce tries to confront him multiple times about how he killed Joker but Dick just feigns amnesia. The only bad thing to come out of the situation is the amount of banana-themed items that are gifted to Dick every anniversary of Joker’s death.

[seat-safety-switch]

Like in motorsports, oil in cooking is everything. You have to select the right viscosity, the perfect origin, and the ideal smoke point. What, you just throw "extra virgin" olive oil on your pan without thinking too much about it? My great-grandmother would shit blood until she died again at you.

At the mall, they have an oil store. Yes, a mall, that's how upscale you have to be for this kind of store. It's inside one of the rich-people enclaves, and they've somehow blocked it out from the satellites. Didn't even know it was there until I had to get inside to rescue my friend Joseph, who had (you guessed it) stolen some key datasofts from the CEO of Zaibatsu Corporation.

While we were in the area, I figured I would duck into the mall while fleeing the corporate security. Those chipped-up cyborg death machines would never think to come looking for us in a bourgeois olive oil store. And it turns out they also had free bread for sampling the oil! Real bread, made from plants! Boy, if the people on the outside knew about this, they'd be knocking down the walls instead of just sneaking in through the Waste Output Port 195-B like I did.

We ate like three loaves of bread each, which I think made the clerkdroid a little suspicious. To allay its fears, we kept repeating rich-people catchphrases like "my fourth yacht," "investment account," "mergers and acquisitions," "the rabble outside threaten our very way of living," and my favourite, "I cannot afford a $500 per year tax hike." That seemed to placate its pattern-matching algorithms, and we were able to stay in there until the store closed.

What oil did we buy? None. Joseph offered to get me a bottle, for all my trouble, but the price tag was literally not visible to our eyes. We decided to go home instead. While we drove, dodging the hunter-killer drones the whole way, we thought about how nice it would be to be the kind of person who worries about different sorts of oil. My great-grandma would probably understand that the only kind I have left to fry eggs in is "motor, used."

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

Hey a previous ask was talking about Perma eaten Stan and the younger twins and I had a question

would that finally be enough to heal the rest of him?

Like yes, his brother rescued him - but he still left him for 10 years over an accident and every single thing since those 10 years sucked. Everything related to Ford both before and after got eaten. He can’t feel anything with Ford anymore

(also just Stan confirming it was an accident since now he has no motivation to lie and no motive and no emotion and just calmly stating the facts and just ooooogh poor ford)

but then the twins come

dipper is awkward, nerdy and dorky - but so curious and excited to learn about the world around him

Mabel is full of life and love and copious amounts of glitter - you BET she’d try her best to “bedazzle” this old curmudgeon

and slowly things begin to melt

Stan doesn’t feel emotions- doesn’t get excited- but he’s waking up earlier than he needs to to make the kids a “good breakfast”

Stan doesn’t feel emotions but he’s staying up late because the kids want to watch a mystery duck

Stan doesn’t love anymore but he runs for mayor because he sees the fear when Bud tries to get elected

Stan doesn’t care but when dipper has forks all over his arms he wraps them up when dipper could easily do it himself

Stan doesn’t get scared but he’s opening the attic door just a creak to watch their tiny chests rise and fall for longer than necessary every night

Stan doesn’t laugh but when he sees dipper running around the woods with fake tattoos and a loincloth his breath stutters a little bit and weird sounds come out of his chest

Stan doesn’t get mad but when a white haired pig boy starts to make his little niece get quieter he goes over to have a nice little chat with him

Stan doesn’t get scared

he doesn’t

he can’t

but those darn kids make him…….

sometimes he swears his chest doesn’t feel so tight, like something is pushed down, it aches and it’s uncomfy and it’s weird and it’s new but it’s not and it’s familiar but strange all at once

Man you all love making my angst even angstier huh? I love it.

Stan's feelings arent coming back because they were all tied up with Ford and his brother is important and they're brother but-

but all the feelings he had were about his brother, they're not coming back when he's the reason they got eaten in the first place. Its not a conscious decision, more like Ford being around made him have those feelings, those feelings got chomped out, and even if Stan doesn't have any memories of the time between the calls it left an impression on his soul. It doesn't want to get chomped again, its not responding to Ford.

And then the twins come. Stan didn't have enough motivation to reach out to the rest of his family, but the twins are here and staying with them, and it doesn't impede his ability to do things around the house and even if it did its Fords house not his. He just lives there because Ford swore he'd never kick him out, and its easier to live there then find his own place. Stan has a job in town doing something that doesn't involve talking to a lot of people because its very easy to take advantage of a person who does not care if they get robbed or can be easily convinced to do things with little regard to how it will affect them long term. Its the most boring job imaginable and it kills Ford because Stan as he was would have died before doing a regular 9 to 5 but he does need money and this is an easy way to get money to get food and to pay rent. Does not understand that Ford does not want rent, because internal logic states that people only want Stan for his money, ergo here is money so that Ford continues to not kick him out. Thank you.

(By the time the twins get around they have a weird monthly ritual where Ford loudly thanks Stan for rent, then pays him for doing chores around the house. Its the only way to get the money to Stan without his brother packing up his things because Stan is working with the assumption that no money= no house. Ford hates doing it but if this is how he has to keep Stan around then so be it)

And the twins are here! Fords super cool and they go on cool adventures and its super fun! And Grunkle Stan the guy who was born an old man who never smiles and has a negative presence is also here! Sure he's weird and old and incredibly boring but they have a whole summer to bond and melt his boring heart! Find him a different hobby besides cloud watching and sitting there!

So the twins drag him into all kinds of low stake adventures so as to not overwhelm his old man heart. Do silly games and stuff. Mabel goes on a quest to get a real laugh out of him and Dipper really wants to find a single hobby Stan will say he enjoys.

And Fords not gonna stop them, he knows they aren't ever going to get those things but its nice to find someone else that tries to include Stan in things. And Stan... won't mention if it bothers him because nothing does but he looks like he's... happy. As happy as Stan can get these days.

Then one day Ford realizes Stan woke up early to make pancakes. No one asked him to do this, there was no reason to get up early to make the extra effort, to go buy rainbow sprinkles in the shape of stars or whipped cream and fresh cherries. Doing this goes against Stan's internal logic of more sleep = more productive day. Stan has never woken up early unless something outside got him up or he needed to do a task early.

Stan chose to do this. He doesn't know why, its been so long since he's felt anything he doesn't even realize he cares about seeing Mabels surprised face at the sprinkles, or Dippers cheer at whipped cream and sugary pancakes. Doesn't even know why he's smiling at them, or why seeing Fords shocked expression makes his chest feel funny.

Then Ford scrambles to get the Mood Stone where he shoved it away and never looked at again when it became clear Stan wouldn't ever recover. Slams it into Stan's hands and its-its not as bright as it should be, colors dull and flickering, but its there. Its there, and it stays there. Stan cares about the kids, he gets scared for them, starts getting flickers of angry when they pull him away from things he's doing, starts getting bored at work, gets annoyed by Fords hovering, finds the jokes funny.

Then Ford has to explain to the kids that they're literally fixing Stan's broken heart here.

Then more fun as Stan has to relearn what emotions feel like what and why he's suddenly doing things he hasn't in years. Has a panic attack and thinks he's dying, gets nervous and thinks he's sick, Laughs too long and it hurts his mouth and oh no its going to fall of. Feels excited to do something and freaks himself out. Gets happy and huh looking at everyones smiling faces has given him heart burn.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Historical Fiction Book Bracket: Round 2B

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen by KJ Charles (The Doomsday Books #1)

Abandoned by his father as a small child, Sir Gareth Inglis has grown up prickly, cold, and well-used to disappointment. Even so, he longs for a connection, falling headfirst into a passionate anonymous affair that's over almost as quickly as it began. Bitter at the sudden rejection, Gareth has little time to lick his wounds: his father has died, leaving him the family title, a rambling manor on the remote Romney Marsh…and the den of cutthroats and thieves that make its intricate waterways their home.

Joss Doomsday has run the Doomsday smuggling clan since he was a boy. His family is his life…which is why when the all-too-familiar new baronet testifies against Joss's sister for a hanging offense, Joss acts fast, blackmailing Gareth with the secret of their relationship to force him to recant. Their reunion is anything but happy and the path forward everything but smooth, yet after the dust settles, neither can stay away. It's a long road from there—full of danger and mysteries to be solved—yet somehow, along the way, this well-mannered gentleman may at last find true love with the least likely of scoundrels.

Setting: Regency England, 1810

Historical fiction, romance, Regency, 1810s, adult

Mrs. Victoria buys a Brothel by Talhí Briones

Endorsement from submitter #1: "A sapphic western where women help women (bury the body of your abusive husband.)"

Endorsement from submitter #2: "This is a story about women who age, gossip, drink, love, and help you hide the body of your dead husband."

1865, United States— It took thirty years and a dislocated arm for Victoria to leave her abusive husband. Heartbroken, she has to choose her own life over the hope of ever seeing her son again. She escapes the manor in the dead of night, only bringing with her a white wedding dress.

She ends up in Swainsburg, a minuscule town in Wyoming, where she’s adopted by the local prostitutes. To save them from expulsion, she buys the building and learns that in these parts, entertainment is worth more than gold. It’s almost easy, even fun, to organize piano recitals and cancan shows for the cowboys of the area, but being a Madam comes with responsibilities and dangers she isn’t ready to face. Her husband, after all, has contacts everywhere.

It’s hard to navigate the delicate tensions between respectable ladies and whores, between white society and the ‘others.’ Her new friends are women who carved their place in this merciless life; people who, like her, ended up in Swainsburg when they got tired of running.

Victoria falls in love. She doesn’t notice, she can’t even imagine the possibility. The townfolk say the widow Díaz is strange. Natane is actually incredibly awkward, kind, and very lonely. Victoria has no name for this burning friendship, but the feeling grows and demands to be acknowledged.

This is a story about women who age, gossip, drink, love, and help you hide the body of your dead husband.

Setting: Western; 1865 Wyoming

Historical fiction, Western, 1860s, adult

[gothicdolores]

Honor as a concept in Predator Killer of Killers:

When Ursa is tasked with avenging her father, we see that it wasn’t something she undertook and bore out of her own sense of justice. Some could sit around and claim that back then blah blah blah, but the fact of the matter is that her quest to avenge her father is presented as something deeply traumatic that has hurt her spiritually, psychologically, emotionally and has caused some pretty hefty burdens between she and her son. On the onset, it is made to LOOK like this is something she has come to terms with and even extends as a noble endeavor to Anders should SHE fall, but by the time Anders dies, we are made to question how little any of it fucking mattered to her in the first place. “Did you kill the monster, mother?” When only a few days ago, Ursa described her trauma as a monster.

She didn’t kill shit. She didn’t kill the monster cuz that trauma is inside her and it nearly cost her and her fellow human’s their lives. She was not living honorably because she wasn’t doing any of this for the right reasons. Her calling Torres and Kenji her boys was so beautiful because i think it’s the first time in her entire life after her father died that she was able to see others as people again.

Kenji and his brother being forced into a duel at such a young age is also not presented as particularly honorable. Insert random people saying but back them blah blah blah, yet even after all their years separated and honing his skills, Kenji very clearly did NOT intended or care to kill his brother. He fucking naruto’ed his ass as gave him the same scar he inflicted on him and wanted to call it a day. Kenji’s honor relies heavily on the fact that he wont do something because the person in charge says it’s what he HAS to do. There is just as much honor in choosing not to fight and staying ones hand then there is in fighting and dying.

TBH i think the Grendel King actually reminded him ALOT of his dad because no, bitch, he’s not about to fight because YOU want him to, he refuses to be entertainment, because at the end of the day that’s what it is. Kenji spent years training and was objectively a better fighter than his brother, presumably even back when they were children, but why the hell would he ever raise a hand to his brother for some asshole who thinks it’s a privilege to be his heir? Why the hell would he fight his fellow humans for some asshole who says it would be a privilege to fight him?

Torres is such a nice blend of both because he is definitely looking to be a pilot for the wrong reasons, but has enough sense to step up for others when he was in his right to stay back. He cared about his unit and immediately cares about his fellow humans to try to escape with them, rather than fight for a single moment. Because let’s really think about this: Torres is a PILOT, yet these Yautja poached him and gave him a gun?? That’s not his battle prowess, that’s not how he proved himself. It is BONKERS that they put him in that ring in the first place, so they obviously weren’t prepared for when Torres stuck to his proverbial guns and stole their ringmaster’s whole ship.

Now we may think hey that’s not very honorable, that’s more showing how sneaky humans can be when in FACT….Torres did exactly what he did before and finagled his way to victory. He took away their bomb collars, he used their own weapons against them, and he used his piloting knowledge to get away, he made things FAIR after these particular Yautja made it unfair. There’s honor in taking a third option.

i think it's especially important that the human characters' sense of honor was challenged in their personal lives before the Yautja even showed up.

Ursa did everything she was "supposed" to do in avenging her father, yet the man who killed him mocked her for it and, as all real cowards do, tried to belittle and take away her sense of purpose by claiming she did it wrong and that he was right

Kenji's dad disapproved of both of his sons - Kenji for refusing to fight at all, and his brother for being "weaker" but accepting him only because he actually listened. He's clearly portrayed as a repulsive, I'd say dishonorable man, who wanted what HE thought was best, while Kenji was the only one to stand up for his own sense of honor. And again, he never wanted to kill his brother, just scar him.

Torres is special to me because he's the more "dishonorable" human, who's immaturity and sense of wanderlust makes him a problem to others, who care about him but are always bailing him out. Torres KNOWS more honorable people, and rises above himself to meet them on their level. His sense of empathy overrides his own ego and he'll do anything to help others even if it's stupid or crazy.

so if ALL three characters had to push back or against something to prove that their moral code - or honor code - is worth living with, than it's especially important for us to question what that sense of worth means when up against the Warlord's clan and THEIR apparent interpretation of the codex.

because Warlord DOES challenge the humans in the exact way their opponents have before their kidnapping. Kenji refuses to kill because someone else tells him to, Ursa at first follows the rules because she is told she HAS to before realizing she cares more about protecting others than whatever sense of honor someone ELSE says she ought to chase, and Torres ends up saving his fellow humans in the way he wanted to save his fellow soldiers

Bad Blood label or not aside, we are MEANT to question hey what's it mean to be the killer of killers at all given what we've seen. is that something honorable? and if yes, are these specific characters being honorable? and if not...what does that mean? how does it fit the narrative? what is Dan trying to say.........................?

it's a very simple and open-ended question that gets lost when we focus on one single character instead of the whole of the cast.

[justslightlymental]

"All of them Goddamn" Saja Boys x Reader Part 2

ill be so honest guys I feel like I butchered the start but oh well! I don't know for sure how long in the actual movie it took for them to defeat them yada yada. But in this AU i'll just say it took like a few months. Anyway, this doesn't have smut in it, IM SORRY BRO OKAY. im lowkey thinking of making a part 3 cuz this shit ended weird ok. ALSO reader is pregnant, if u dont like that LEAVE. its not my fault bro had unsafe smeggs in part 1

also yes im working on my other requests about them, those will be full on smut trust :33333 -

IT had been weeks since our last encounter. And oh boy… I’ve had these terrible headaches, these terrible stomach aches. The many times I’ve had to dip out of rehearsals just to empty my stomach. My energy levels have gone down the drain. I thought about reasons for a very long time, I was perfectly fine before the “Saja Boys” fiasco at the bathhouse, and a week or so after I was fine. But the more I thought about that night the more I realised how irresponsible and lust driven all of us were. Literally all of them splattered my insides white and NONE of us had any kind of protection, oh my fucking god. “What if I'm pregnant. What if im carrying the child of a fucking demon.” I spoke to myself quietly, sitting in my bed, stressing the fuck out. It all made sense, and I honestly wish it didn’t. How am I supposed to bring this up to THEM? How am I supposed to explain my predicament to my bandmates?? To our manager?? I can’t just fucking go up to them like ‘Oh yeah.. By the way, I'M pregnant and the father must be one of the Saja boys. Hell no. We had enough trouble overall with losing our fans day by day to them, and figuring out a song to completely wipe the demons out and strengthen the Honmoon up for good. Wait… If we defeat the saja boys and actually succeed, what about this possible child I might be carrying?? I mean maybe I’m not pregnant- But with everything happening there is a 98% chance I am. If we kill them- my child- or well their child too will forever be fatherless OH GOD what if the baby dies too?? I have to take a test, like badly. “Hey, I'm going out!” I said to the girls after emerging from my room, dressed very casually. “Alright, be safe okay?” Rumi said back, before turning back to her movie.

“Oh! Can you bring back chicken noodles?? I’ve been craving them!” Zoey yelled out from the kitchen. “Will do, bye bye!” “Byeeee!” Mira said, not looking away from her book.

The evening breeze was chilly, the hoodie I wore could only do so much. Feeling the cold sweeping through the tiniest openings. I walked faster, wanting to get to the sweet warmth of the pharmacy, which shouldn’t be too far now. As I finally reached the store, immediately feeling relieved and speed walking to the intimacy section, looking through all the different tests. I kept my hood up, trying to stay as hidden as possible not wanting any scandals to happen.

”Would you like some help?” A kind pharmacist said from next to me, a smile on her face. ”Uhmm… Well, anything that's trustworthy..?” I answered awkwardly.

We had a lovely conversation, she was really easy to talk to. The average auntie, well at least she looked the age… Thankfully she did not recognize me, internally sighing in relief. As I finished shopping and walked out. I was immediately met with the cold and once again began my walk back home.

Though as I was walking it felt like I was being watched, the hairs on the back of my neck rising like I was spiderman. I tried to walk faster, taking different routes but in the end a sudden smoke appeared out of nowhere, scaring the ever living shit out of me. Currently I was in an alley too so his shit truly was not ideal.

”Well well well, look who it is.” A deep voice called out and I immediately recognized it.

”Jinu??!” I said shocked, clutching the bag into my chest.

”And don’t forget about us!” Another voice said and four more men appeared right next to Jinu.

Oh for fucks sake.

”I'm not in the mood.” I scoffed. 

Okay well between you and me I was very much in the mood but I also did not want them knowing about my… predicament.

”C'mon doll we all know that’s a lie.” Abby said, walking closer to me, throwing his arm around my shoulders.

”No really, please.. Just let me go.” I sighed, my emotions in overdrive. “What’s the matter?” Mystery asked, seemingly the only one with the social skills to actually pick up on my mood. “It’s nothing, just a bad day.” I quickly said, wanting to get out of this situation before my ‘possible’ secret gets revealed. “Why do you smell so good right now?” Romance spoke up, suddenly appearing right beside me, literally inhaling my scent. “Now that you mention I smell it too.” Baby said, eyeing me up and down. Oh shit, I literally forgot they are demons. Does this basically confirm my suspicions and fears? Can they smell the change in my hormones or some shit? That's lowkey creepy, but whatever. “Just let me go.” I said once again, walking past them. Obviously they wouldn’t let me go that easily, hearing their footsteps behind me. I was seriously fed up. “You’re hiding something aren’t you? Maybe in that bag of yours?” Jinu caught up with me, tilting his head in a mocking way. “Did you pick up some toys to use incase we all met up again?” Abby joked, others giggling with him.

I chose to ignore them, as much as I honestly wanted to get down on the floor and get absolutely ravished by all of them. Getting home and doing this test and then crying my eyes out was much more favorable.  Though I don’t think they took me ignoring them very well, the next thing I knew they had stopped in their tracks, making me turn around, their faces rid of any humor or smiles. “Fine if you’re going to act like a brat. Don’t bother crawling back to us begging for more.” Jinu scoffed, all of them agreeing with him. “The entitlement is crazy!! See if i fucking care!” I yelled out, baffled at how these men… No these DEMONS were acting. No other words were exchanged as I turned on my heel and practically ran off, holding in the tears. This is how everything was supposed to go. Obviously they wouldn’t hold any emotional attachment to me, what was I expecting? A nice dinner date in the city's most luxurious 5 star restaurant?? They are demons for fucks sake, their whole thing is to just lure people in and then eat their souls. But why did it hurt so much? It’s not like they actually took advantage of me or anything, I gave them my full consent and was reckless. And now I'm paying the price for one night of pleasure. I thought, staring at the 3 positive tests in my hand. Makeup already ruined, eyeliner mushed around my cheeks, tears still flowing down freely. My emotions were all over the place, It wasn’t on my plans to become a young mother to a fucking half demon baby. Yet despite all of that I couldn’t help but already feel attached. This child was innocent, who am I to blame it for being conceived by my own foolish desires and actions. I had decided, no matter how foolish or bad, I was keeping this baby and that’s final. The next few weeks were awful, between the writing, composing of songs and rehearsals not to mention rivaling against Saja boys. AND struggling with the amazing side effects of pregnancy, thankfully I wasn’t showing yet, so I could still use our performance outfits no matter how flashy or tight they were. Things had been going south though. The Honmoon was weakening due to our lack of progress, demons appearing left and right. Fans leaving and going for Saja boys. They were practically everywhere, we were being overthrown quickly.

“Alright girls! I know everythings all ‘saja’ ‘saja’. But we are going to turn it into ‘Huntrix!’ ‘Huntrix!’ alright?” Bobby said with a smile placing a bunch of posters in front of us at our table. “There’s a bunch of fans outside who literally SLEPT on the sidewalk just to see you. “Happy fans… Happy Honmoon!” We all looked at each other and clicked our pens together, sitting at our fan event table. And so the fans bursted in and so did 5 random… sleeping bag things..? “And who do I owe this to?” Rumi asked with a smile, going to pick up a poster to sign it. “To your biggest fans…” The male said, they all revealed themselves as Saja boys. Oh for FUCKS sake. All of the attendees went crazy yelling out their band name. “Oh Saja boys It’s an honor! Table please!” Bobby said, as they brought a table down for the boys. “Joint meeting??” Half of the people lined up for us moved to the boys table. We looked at each other baffled, Rumi staying silent for a moment before standing up and announcing the boys would be seated with us and the people immediately lined back up. “WHAT?!” All of us whisper yelled.

“We need all the fans we can get…” Rumi said, sitting back down in her seat. I was now forced to sit between Baby and Jinu. Neither of them didn’t seem to pay attention to me, but I could feel glances my way ever so often. Forced to listen to them shamelessly flirting with my bandmates, forced to sit in absolute misery and worst of all.. Forced to suffer my raging hormones, oh god they smelled so good. The fan event started off good, signing posters and albums, having short chats with the fans, doing cute stuff yada yada. I was doing a pretty good job with ignoring the boys, no matter how much I wanted to oogle at them. Jinu made it very clear they don’t want anything to do with me anymore. “Hello! I hope you’re doing alright!” I smiled sweetly at the next fan in front of me, a guy my age I assumed. “Oh my god!! I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you!” He beamed with happiness, taking my hands in his. Oookayy.. could’ve asked for permission first but i’ll let it slide… Happy fans.. Happy Honmoon I reminded myself. “I can’t believe I'm meeting you! Thank you for supporting us!” I smiled back, a little forced. “I’ve been a fan since the first day, you’re my favorite! I love you so much!” He continued, moving closer to me. “I appreciate that!” I cringed internally at how close he was getting. “Would you like me to sign anything?” The fanboy gasped letting go of my hands to dig into his bag, probably for an album. I couldn’t help but notice from the corner of my eye how Jinu had turned his head towards us both, watching the interaction clearly not amused. It was then when I felt a hand land on my thigh, inching ever so closer to my core. My eyes widened for a moment before I calmed myself down, acting normal for the fan. “Please sign my album!” He asked, handing it to me and so I did.

“You’re so amazing!!! Pleaseee marry me!” The guy said, lowkey freaking me out now. This also caught the attention of my bandmates but also all of the Saja Boys. And if looks could kill this fellow would be buried deep within the earth's core. I forced an awkward smile, trying not to yell at this guy, not wanting to scare any of the other fans who might I add also started watching the interaction. “Hahaha- Thank you- umm I’m sorry but-” Before I could continue a hand slammed in front of me, making me flinch. “I think it’s time you move on.” It was Jinu and he was pissed, in fact they all were pissed I could feel the atmosphere changing. Everyone was dead quiet, the guy looked like he would piss his pants at any moment, before quickly snatching the poster and fleeing the whole event. It was pretty fucking awkward after that but it wasn’t long until things seemed to return to normal. “Thank you…” I muttered to Jinu, not sparing a glance. He didn’t reply but he didn’t need to, another squeeze to my thigh was all I needed. Maybe everything was not lost between us after all, maybe he did care, maybe they all did. They just didn’t know how to express themselves… I don’t know, maybe I’m just delusional holding onto the smallest thread of hope. One thing is for sure though, I need to let them know.  After the fan event fiasco I was sitting in my dressing room, just staring into the mirror. The frown on my face was evident as a hand rested on my stomach. The thoughts in my head racing, I was so conflicted. Everytime I saw one of the guys I felt weak in my legs, my heart thumped against my chest, and I just felt… weird. Was I really falling in love?

And how would that end huh…

I was suddenly pulled away by my thoughts due to my door opening, in walked all of them. Without an invitation of course!! We just stared at each other without saying a word, the air heavy around us. I don’t know for how long we just stood there in silence, but it felt like our eyes were having the conversation for us entirely.

“Why did you come here.” I asked bluntly.

“To check up on you, are we not allowed to care?” Jinu asked with a frown, hands folded in front of his chest. I let out an amused scoff, looking away from them, gathering my words. “That’s rich coming from you. From all of you.” I said a hint of venom in my tone. “From what I gathered last time we happened to bump into each other you all were only after ONE thing. Sex. It’s very funny suddenly seeing you ‘care’, or being interested in how I'm doing. Hey it’s okay though! It was a really nice one night stand, I can't believe I expected more.” It felt relieving to finally get my feelings out, really it did. “What? Got nothing to say? Because I was right?” I asked, staring at their faces, all of them seemed to avoid eye contact, nervous almost. “It’s.. not that… I just- We’ll we just… The truth is-” Jinu tried but couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. “We all like you!” Baby Saja yelled out. “We didn’t know how to tell you, or how to find you..” Romance continued, scratching the back of his head. “I guess the moment we saw you again.. Asking for that was like.. a way to try and forget..” Abby said, his face red. “We thought you would never like us back.. Since you know… we are demons.” Mystery quietly said Honestly their confession shocked me, you mean there’s actually hope?? They actually have feelings?? No fucking way. It almost brought me to tears, fucking hormones. “I- I’m shocked… Truth is after our ‘thing’ I couldn’t stop thinking about you all…” I mumbled, all of their heads snapped towards me. “It was torture trying to sleep that night…” I giggled quietly, remembering. “You drive us crazy… And today seeing that boy touch you… It made us mad, it's weird.. It feels like an instinct, to protect you from everything and anything…” Jinu said, others agreeing. “I feel like I need to be close to you… at all times, something is pulling me in.” Baby said, walking closer to me. All of them followed, I backed towards the counter where all my makeup was laid. I stared up at them, all of a sudden remembering the last time and immediately felt like my panties had just been dipped into water.  “I want to be close to you all too…” I said, eyes never leaving theirs. Suddenly nothing else mattered, all I wanted was to have a taste of them again, to feel them touch me, mark me, claim me. Jinu’s hands landed on my shoulders, he leaned in slowly, our lips connecting in a sweet kiss. It wasn’t messy like before, but instead a passionate one. As we separated he looked me deep in the eyes, his hand caressing my cheek. “I’m sorry about that day.” He said. “It’s okay…” None of us shared another word, but that was okay. Though I still felt terrible, as they all got close to me. I was keeping this secret from them, but I was afraid, so afraid. What would they think? What would everyone think? I didn’t want this moment to end in more unnecessary fighting and drama, I just wanted everyone to be happy. If it meant keeping and going through this by myself I would do it. 

Romance pressed his lips against my neck, his teeth just slightly gracing my skin. Baby on my other side, his hand caressing my arm, leaning against me, enjoying the warmth of my skin. Abby took Jinu’s place in front of me, kissing me deeply, pressing himself up against me. Softly moaning into his kiss, playfully fighting his tongue with my own. Mystery had taken Romance's side and was now running his fingers through my hair, kissing my cheek and neck. After a little bit more making out with them and touching each other up we separated, even if we didn’t want to. But time was not on our side, soon the girls would come looking for me and we would be busted big time. “We’ll see each other more right?” I asked hopefully, the fact is I felt myself not wanting to leave their side for even a moment. “Yes, definitely. It hurts us to be away from you darling.” Jinu said. “Let us mark you… be ours forever..” Abby asked, almost desperate. “Please, I need everyone to know you are mine and theirs.” Mystery said, his voice whiny. The rest agreed, and how could I say no to them? Even if my mind tried telling me no. For deep down in my heart I was afraid of all these feelings, what happens if we truly seal the Honmoon up for good? My heart would be broken beyond repair. “Yes.” In a flash their human forms disappeared, replaced by their demon counterparts. I used to loathe them, to hate them but now I feel like I preferred seeing their true selves. I felt even more connected to them. They placed their hands on my chest one by one, each time a mark flashed over my chest, a purple hue traveling along my veins down my arms before disappearing. Each time I felt a surge of emotions, feelings like a piece of their lost souls merged with mine. I'm sure they felt more alive, I could see this light in their eyes I had never seen before. “You are ours now and we.. are yours.” - YEA ILL MAKE A PART 3 MAYBE YEAH (i will)

[crxwn-06]

ASHES AND ECHOES

“ home has become wherever he sleeps safely ”

Damian runs away: Jon is not his, he is not a Wayne, he is not an Al Ghul. In the hope of finding himself in the destruction of the League, he finds instead the latest experiment, the latest innovation: his and Jon’ son. He flees. With the baby. He dies. (Does he?) While his family mourns him, he learns to live again.

or, Damian haunting the narrative for everyone while being a very much alive single father in his lil beach house

05. DAYS IN THE WIND

masterlist;; « previous | next »

The first night, Damian didn’t stop running.

Not when the cold bit at his face.

Not when Thomas began to fuss against his chest.

Not when his feet bled inside his boots.

Not when his bruised side throbbed with every breath.

The high-altitude wind tore through the thin cloak he’d wrapped around them both. Damian pressed Thomas closer, letting his own body take the worst of it. The child whimpered once, then fell quiet — too quiet — and that scared him more than anything.

By dawn, they were deep into the mountains, and he was trembling. Not from pain. From adrenaline’s crash, the silence, the terrifying finality of what he’d done.

He’d run.

Not from a mission. Not from a fight.

From everything.

From the League. From the weight of his name.

From the man who had watched him grow up like a puzzle to be solved.

From the woman who had given him life and never let him own it.

And for what?

He looked down at Thomas, still wrapped in his cloak, sleeping with one tiny hand curled in the fold of Damian’s tunic.

For this, he told himself. For him.

He set up camp in a ruined shepherd’s hut, half-collapsed from wind and years of neglect. Inside was nothing but stone, dirt, and a rusted fire pit.

Still—walls.

He huddled with Thomas in the farthest corner, blocking the entrance with a fallen beam. The baby whimpered and kicked against his chest.

«You’re okay» Damian whispered, voice hoarse. «You’re safe now, Trouble.»

It was the first time he’d said the nickname aloud.

Trouble.

It made sense.

Thomas Al Ghul. Thomas Wayne. Thomas… Kent. Whatever he would become, whatever his name truly was, he had wrecked every plan Damian had ever known—and yet Damian wouldn’t give him up for the world.

The baby opened his eyes, blinking blearily. Emerald green.

His eyes.

His mother’s eyes.

Bruce’s scowl in his mouth when he frowned.

He was his.

Damian had no idea what to do with that.

The second day, they reached a bus station.

Not in any big city — a small, freezing mountain town mostly populated by goats and the occasional suspicious old woman.

Damian bought passage with stolen money. He sat in the back, eyes shadowed beneath a borrowed hoodie, Thomas asleep in a sling beneath his coat. His hand never left the knife in his pocket.

People stared.

No one said anything.

A boy with a baby. A ghost with dark circles under his eyes.

The third day, it rained.

Damian found shelter beneath an overpass. He ripped a hole in the bottom of his duffle bag to sew a makeshift diaper. He melted snow in a cracked thermos lid for formula. He held Thomas all night, willing the fever in his tiny body to break.

He almost cried.

He didn’t.

The fourth night, Thomas laughed.

Just once. Just a giggle, while trying to chew on Damian’s collarbone with two new teeth.

It startled him so badly he dropped the plastic spoon.

And then, for a second… he laughed too.

By the sixth day, Damian had started talking to him.

Not full conversations. Just small, quiet things.

Little truths he’d never said aloud.

“Your grandfather would know how to fix this.”

“I was trained to break things, not raise them.”

“You look like me, but I hope you’ll be better.”

“I’m going to find him. I’ll prove it to him.”

“We’re almost there. I promise.”

He didn’t know if he was lying.

But he said it anyway.

Because Thomas was listening.

Because someone needed to believe it.

Because for the first time in his life… Damian wasn’t alone.

And that terrified him more than anything else ever had.

They made it to the States.

Illegally. Quietly. Desperately.

It had taken four months.

Four months of sleeping in station corners and rundown hostels with paper-thin walls. Four months of swapping identities and burner phones like clothes. Four months of stolen SIM cards, burned fake IDs, baby wipes and old flannel shirts turned into diapers.

Damian Wayne had never been hunted so closely in his life. And he’d never felt so fragile.

He couldn’t take a plane.

Too easy to track. Too many biometric controls. Too much risk.

The League was patient. The League was everywhere. And they weren’t the only ones that might want what he had wrapped in a blanket strapped to his chest.

So, they took trains.

He used a Slovakian passport forged with help from a former League deserter, bribed a border guard with cash and information, and gave himself a new name: Damian Thorne. The birth certificate he had forged for the baby bore the name Thomas Alfred Thorne. It burned a little in his chest—using Alfred’s name—but it also gave him a strange kind of strength.

The cold in Slovakia bit through fabric like fangs. Damian’s fingers were red and raw from holding Thomas against him inside his jacket. The baby fussed constantly, unfamiliar with cold winds and unfamiliar beds.

They moved like ghosts: never staying longer than a single night, never trusting the same route twice. Damian became a master of “not being seen”—something Ra’s had trained him for, but something he’d never done like this. Not with a baby. Not with a heart tied to his ribs by a thread of laughter and tiny fists.

He broke into pharmacies for fever medication. He hacked into booking systems and deleted every trace of hotel records. He used hand-scratched aliases that changed from city to city.

In Budapest, he stole a bag of groceries and left an apology note behind.

In Vienna, he memorized new metro patterns while cradling Thomas through his first major fever. He didn’t sleep for three days.

He practiced calming Thomas in whispers—Arabic, French, broken lullabies that Talia had never sung, but that he tried to make up from scratch. «Ya ‘omri, ya habibi, hush now» he’d murmur, his voice low against the baby’s hair. «I’m here. Baba’s here.»

They traveled by freight car through Switzerland and into France. The League had eyes everywhere, but especially in major cities. Damian changed directions constantly—zigzagging between small villages and market towns where cameras were rare and no one looked too hard at a boy with a stroller.

He dyed his hair with cheap supermarket dye—dark brown, indistinct. He used makeup to dull the scar on his face, applying it while balancing Thomas on his hip in rest stop bathrooms.

In France, they got stuck in a blizzard for two days. Thomas got sick.

Damian spent the second night awake in the corner of a hostel stairwell, holding his child upright against his chest, measuring his fever with his lips, whispering reassurances in Arabic and English.

He used a spoon to steal hot broth from a stranger’s bowl in the communal kitchen. He felt no shame.

The Spanish coast was warmer. Damian could finally breathe in salty sea air that didn’t feel like glass in his lungs.

They stayed for a week in an abandoned villa off a cliff road. Thomas learned how to stand, wobbling around on the marble floor like a chaotic crab. Damian filmed it—just for himself. Just once.

They didn’t speak to anyone. Damian fished during the mornings and made fire at night. He wrapped Thomas in two layers of old wool and held him close. There was peace there, and guilt that came with it.

At one point, Thomas laughed uncontrollably at the sound of seagulls. It startled Damian so much that he almost dropped the bag of fish bones.

He smiled for the first time in weeks.

«You’re a menace» he whispered, touching the boy’s cheek. «You know that?»

Thomas beamed and replied with a loud «BA!»—his first real syllable.

It punched the breath out of Damian’s chest.

«Ba-ba. Baaabuu.» «No» Damian murmured, heart stuttering. «That’s Baba, not—»

But Thomas laughed again, pointing to his father’s face with a hand sticky from overripe peach. Damian didn’t correct him again.

In Portugal, they crossed the border on foot. The baby was teething again. Damian’s boots were worn to the sole, and his right arm still ached from the fight in the monastery. He only rested for a day in a beach town, watching as Thomas tried to eat sand.

And then they found a boat.

A man owed him a favor. Or rather, owed Ra’s a favor—and Damian had never cashed in a debt before. He did now.

It was a rusted shipping vessel, unofficial and crawling with rats. But it was unregistered and heading for the East Coast. That was all that mattered.

Eleven days at sea.

Damian kept to a storage unit deep below deck, sleeping on a rolled tarp, his son curled under his arm. The sea was relentless, and Thomas hated it—he cried at every groan of the hull, at every slam of wave on steel. But eventually, he slept. Damian fed him canned milk and played soft recordings of Alfred reading to him as a child.

He counted days by tally marks in the corner of the crate.

They didn’t arrive in New Jersey.

Too dangerous.

Instead, the boat docked discreetly in New Brunswick, Canada, and from there Damian made contact with a man he’d once saved in Istanbul—a grizzled, one-eyed smuggler who owed him a personal debt.

He helped them cross into Maine.

Damian chose it on purpose: sparse, forested, isolated. The kind of place where no one cared who you were if you paid in cash and kept to yourself.

He bought an old Chevy Impala with rust around the wheels and a gas gauge that didn’t work. The man he bought it from had four teeth and didn’t even ask for a name.

They settled briefly in a one-bedroom cabin outside of Waterville. No cameras. No prying eyes. Just the wind in the trees and Thomas’s slow-growing vocabulary—now filled with “duck”, “baba”, “no”, and “uh-oh”.

Damian didn’t dare drive to Gotham. Not yet. He needed to wait. He needed to know they weren’t on his tail.

«Two more months» he said aloud to Thomas, sitting on the porch while the boy gnawed on a wooden spoon. «On my birthday, we move.»

He didn’t say what he feared most: that someone would find them before then. That his choice—running, taking this child—had already written his fate in blood.

But Thomas babbled happily beside him, face smeared with applesauce.

And for a little while, that was enough.

The cabin wasn’t much: two rooms, old plumbing, a fire stove that coughed black smoke on bad days. But to Thomas, it was paradise. He would toddle from corner to corner in heavy socks, dragging a collection of twigs and buttons Damian couldn’t figure out the origin of.

They had a routine.

Mornings started with porridge and blueberry juice. Damian always pretended not to see when Thomas spooned half of it onto the floor for the birds. After breakfast, they went for a walk — Damian with a hood drawn low, Thomas strapped to his chest or skipping beside him with fat mittens and mismatched boots.

They found a nearby creek, frozen at the edges. Thomas tossed pebbles in and laughed each time they cracked the ice.

At night, Damian read to him. Old paperbacks left behind by the cabin’s previous owners — mysteries, westerns, a few romance novels that he skipped through awkwardly when Thomas refused to sleep. He translated them into French or Arabic as he read, and Thomas, even if he didn’t understand a word, clapped when Damian used voices.

He kept a small burner going for heat and stayed close. Most nights, Thomas fell asleep curled up like a cat in the crook of his arm. Damian never moved him.

Some nights, he lay awake, eyes on the ceiling, wondering if his father would even want to see him again. If he’d even recognize him.

He was thinner now. Paler. With callouses on his hands from chopping wood and bruises on his knees from falling asleep beside a toddler’s bed too many nights in a row.

But he was also softer. Calmer. The League was a shadow now. He had changed. Hadn’t he?

«You made me a father» he whispered to the boy one night, cheek pressed to Thomas’s hair. «You made me… real.»

The day before they were meant to leave, Damian bought a burner phone and encrypted it to send a single, non-traceable message to an old contact in Canada who owed him safe passage down through Vermont. From there, he would avoid Gotham still—cutting toward the Appalachians and ending up around Blüdhaven.

He bought a secondhand car. Gray Honda, no plates. Cash only. No questions asked.

He packed light: just clothes, supplies, and the carved wooden horse Thomas had come to love. Everything else, they left behind. He burned old notes and wiped clean the laptop he’d been coding from.

They crossed into Vermont just before dusk. The backroads were unplowed, slick, but Damian drove carefully, glancing at Thomas in the rearview mirror every ten minutes. The boy was humming. He’d started doing that when he was bored.

«Hold on a little longer» Damian said aloud. «We’re almost there.»

They stopped at a lodge for truckers. Damian slept in the backseat while Thomas slept on his chest, wrapped in blankets. He dreamt of his father’s voice, calling his name, and woke up in a sweat.

In the woods of New Hampshire, their path was blocked by a fallen tree. Damian had to carry Thomas on his back while he hiked four miles to the next stop. Thomas never complained, just tapped his fingers against Damian’s shoulder and asked softly, «Juice?»

They shared protein bars and old tangerines in the cold. That night, Damian used a tarp and sleeping bags to set up camp behind an abandoned ranger post. He made a fire with flint and steel.

Thomas fell asleep staring at the stars.

A brief stop in Massachusetts. He picked up medicine and canned food. Thomas got a fever from the windchill, and Damian panicked, held him close all night while wiping him down with water and medicine.

He didn’t sleep. Just stared at Thomas’s pink cheeks and whispered things in Arabic — things his mother never said to him.

«Ya roohi. Baba’s here. You’re strong. You’ll be fine.»

And he was. The next morning, Thomas was laughing again, tugging on his scarf and giggling at a dog they saw outside a gas station.

They reached southern Pennsylvania. The fog was thick on the road, trees swallowing them whole.

Thomas was asleep in the backseat, and Damian looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

He didn’t look like the boy who left Nanda Parbat. He looked older. Tired. Scared. But his grip on the wheel didn’t shake.

The small town was quiet — painfully so.

A coastal fog crept over the streets, swallowing streetlights in a yellow haze as Damian stood on the front porch of the motel, arms crossed, hoodie drawn over his head despite the warmth. He watched as Thomas, inside, tried to conquer a stubborn juice box with the absolute intensity of a small war general. The faint sound of cartoons played in the background, muffled by the walls.

Damian had hoped they’d stay unnoticed here, just another tired young parent with a toddler in tow, living out of borrowed time and travel-sized toiletries.

They were so close now.

He could feel it.

Father was only a few hours away. Gotham. Just across the water

But something gnawed at him. A sensation he’d learned to trust: the creeping cold along the spine, the pressure at the base of the skull. Surveillance. Shadows.

Someone was looking for them.

No.

Someone had found them.

He turned his head just slightly and scanned the street again — nothing. But the scent of incense still clung to his jacket, and in the quiet hum of the air conditioning unit beside him, he could almost hear the familiar rhythm of steps trained to fall silent.

He exhaled the winter air through his nose, slowly. Controlling it. Preparing.

Thomas called out then, his small voice cutting through the growing dread. «Babaaa!»

Damian turned and let the fear go — just for a moment.

Inside, Thomas was holding the leg of a chair, standing proudly, droplets of the outside rain clinging to his curls and cheeks. Damian stepped in and knelt, wiping his chin, eyes softening. He pulled his son into a hug, tighter than usual.

He nearly broke then. Instead, Damian stood, kissed his forehead, and started packing. Quietly. Quickly.

They’d leave before dawn.

He didn’t need to look at the rooftops to know who was watching.

ALMOST FINISHED WITH MY FINALS YALL

Now this chapter is directly connected to the prologue! I advise you to reread that for a better understanding of next chapter🩷

Taglist: @sparrows4bats @lobdw20 @sleepynagii @linoalwaysknows @mamamoble @blue22roses @srta-saori @remosdeerica @touchofhemlocktea @ashshadows001 @famouscrusadeluminary @shifttoksucks @safia-bachamissimi @broccoliiiiiiii @angieng2432

[broken-glowsticks]

What Once Was Mine

Chapter 19 - Changes

Genre: Childhood friends, Eventual Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Love corner/love triangle, love rivals, Series.

Not all chapters will be proofread!!

Additional Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, Binnie is seriously the best boyfriend ever 18+, mdni, swearing, mentions of sex and alcohol consumption, additional warnings will be added to individual chapters as needed. Let me know if I missed anything!

Additional Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, Binnie is seriously the best boyfriend ever

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•.*°•♤•°*.•

So far, the boys had been keeping their promise to you. Jisung himself made a special effort to not only come home every night - no matter how late - but to set aside a night every week to spend with you. You loved him for that, you had missed him, but you could see how tired he was. Every time you looked at him, it seemed like the color under his eyes deepend. It made you nervous whenever he drove home. The two of you didn’t necessarily live far from the 3racha studio - Changbin actually lived the furthest - however him being sleepy on the road still freaked you out. Poor Ji was always sleepy. On more than one occasion did he pass out during movie night, his head falling onto your shoulder as he gently snored away. Your heart ached so much but you appreciated his effort to still be there for you. 

You still missed Hyunjin despite it, though.

It was odd. You mourned Hyunjin like he had died. Every day you had something you wanted to tell him, something to show him. You just wanted to see him. But you couldn’t, despite how desperately you wanted to, you wouldn’t. He had set his boundaries and you would respect them. If not because you still loved him - not just romantically but also as a friend and as someone who you’ve spent your entire life with up until now - but because he deserved to have his wishes respected. It was basic human decency, so you'd adhere to his wishes even if it killed you.

You heaved a sigh as you dropped another box by the kitchen island, standing fully erect and hearing more than one pop coming from your back. You groaned. You had been moving boxes all week after the extra shifts you'd been taking to distract yourself. While not every box was so heavy, the sheer act of forcing yourself to help heave boxes, a desk, a bed plus the frame, and everything else Felix owned had been utter agony on your exhausted body.

It had been two months since the night Hyunjin bowed out from your life. Two. Grueling. Months. Two agonizing months that inched by at a snail's pace and despite Ji’s and Binnie’s attempts at easing your soul it was Felix who had all the time in the world to accompany your darkest nights. 

Felix was the one who had enough time to hold a steady text conversation with you throughout the day and the one who would spend the night, not always just per your request but just because he wanted to. He was also the one who you cooked dinners with, who'd bitch with you when one or both of your days were rough, the one who’d slip into your sheets to console you when you began to share a memory about Hyunjin only to break when you realized you might not ever get to make memories like that with him again. 

That’s not to say that your boys didn’t try, the heavens above knew just how hard they did, but they only had so much time to give. Felix, however, had all the time you did, he was in the same boat after all. 

Chan was also never home and when he was the poor guy was always exhausted. He pulled weird hours, always had his headphones on and laptop open, and despite his best attempts to spend time with Felix, Chan was always falling asleep when they were together - just like Jisung. Yeah, you and Felix were in the exact same boat. Both of you were just so goddamn lonely without your best friend around. Which is exactly why you, him, Chan and Jisung all agreed that it would be best if you and Felix lived together instead. 

To your surprise it was Jisung himself who even suggested it in the first place. 

Walking over to the door of what was now Felix’s room, you stared into the altered space. You could still see Ji's set up. His bed against the wall, his desk at the foot, all the random crap he had pinned to the walls and his clothes and junk everywhere, circling his pristine bed - the only thing he ever bothered to clean besides himself. The absence of all that stuff suddenly made this move feel so real. Ever since the day Ji told you, things had been surreal. You weren't even entirely sure you had heard him correctly when he first told you.

•.*°•♤•°*.•

Your fork slipped from your grasp, clattering onto your plate as you stared slack-jawed at your roommate. Did you just hear him right? What was he saying?

“Don't look at me like that,” Jisung said in a small, somewhat uncomfortable tone. He shifted in his seat as you simply continued to stare at him, at least you had managed to shut your gaping gob. 

“But… Jisung!” You shouted once you recovered, earning yourself a few sidelong glances from surrounding patrons. Yet you didn't care, you were too shocked to care. Jisung winced at the plain use of his first name, something he’s not really used to hearing from you, but he really couldn't blame you. He did just kind of drop a rather radical suggestion. 

“It's a good idea,” he began defensively, pushing his food around on his plate with his cutlery. He kept his gaze on his food, unable to bring himself to meet your eyes. This was so much harder than he thought it would be and he expected it to be pretty damn hard. The two of you had begun living together practically right out of high school, both of you ready to gain a little independence from mom and dad. 

While you two didn't live in the same small, cramped apartment you started in, you were still together even after all these years. It only made sense. Aside from Hyunjin, Jisung had been your closest friend for years. You two shared so many pivotal moments together, supported each other during your most desperate and stressful times. You moved not just once but twice together without chewing each other's heads off. There was really nobody else you ever saw yourself living with, not even Hyunjin - your deep seeded affection for him making it near impossible for you to even envision living with him without feeling like you'd drown in your emotions. So for Jisung to suddenly suggest that he and Felix switch? It was enough to make you short circuit. It made your irrational, fragile heart feel like you were on the verge of losing him too. 

“Y/N…” Jisung continued gently, your prolonged silence making him feel restless. While he didn’t know the exact turmoil going on in your head, he had a guess towards it, it was written all over your face. “I know this idea is… a lot, but it's a good idea,” he reiterated, “I'm barely home and you and Felix are always together anyway. Chan and I have noticed how close you two have been getting and we know it happened cause you two've been lonely without us. And, plus, you two have a lot in common! Like… both of you have a roommate- no- both of you have a best friend who's always busy. That… that must be hard.” 

You finally blink back into reality as Ji’s rambling peters out, a small, “yeah,” escaping you as you refocus on your friend in front of you. 

“I'm not going anywhere,” he continues, “I'm still gonna be around. But… Chan and I figured - well, I figured - it'd… just be better if Felix and I switched.” 

“Better how?” You ask softly, your gaze burning into him, willing him to look up at you. He didn’t for a long while, but when he finally did you were surprised to see red rimming his eyes. Your heart squeezed so tightly you couldn’t breath.

“You won’t be alone anymore...”

Fuck.

You felt like an utter ass. A complete and totally unmitigated ass. How could you feel so hurt when all Ji was doing was looking out for you? Like he always has, like he always will, even though the tinted brim of his eyes told you how this idea hurt him too? 

You sighed, your shoulders dropping as you released all your tension. It was your turn to avert your gaze as guilt crept in. Another silence settled between the two of you before you finally spoke up again.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he replies instantly, his voice low and earnest. 

“It’ll be so weird, I’ve never lived with anyone else.”

“I know, I was there.” You huff out a laugh and feel yourself relax when Jisung does the same. It makes it easier for you to finally look up at him again to see his bright, toothy smile. You couldn’t help but give him one in return.

“Shut up. Ass.” 

“I do have a rather fine one,” he replies smoothly, mood lifted enough to take another bite of his food. It’s colder than he’d like, but at this moment he doesn’t mind, especially when you do the same. “But… same. It’s only ever been my parents, then you. Chan is so tidy and dude can get cranky, I'm scared he’ll rip my head off.”

“You act like I never bitched at you when your mess made it out of your bedroom.”

“You’re nicer than Chan.”

“True. I spoiled you,” you tut, taking a sip of your drink to hide your smile.

Jisung gives you a look of mock offense as his hand comes to settle on his chest, sassy energy radiating off of him as he scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Wow, rude,” he huffs as he polishes off the rest of his food. It’s officially way too cold now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“It’s the truth,” you chuckle, finally flashing him your grin, which makes his lips quirk up again in turn. The two of you are able to finish your meal in peace after that, the air feeling much lighter around you. Conversation flowed easily, laughs and grins were exchanged freely, and when the meal was over and the bill was paid the two of you slipped into your car as Jisung calls Chan to inform him that the deed has been done. 

“She said yes?” Chan’s voice is faint from Jisuns phone speaker, the sound of the road almost entirely drowning him out. 

“Yeah, well…” Jisung’s eyes slid over to you in the driver's seat, “not in so many words. But she’s on board.”

“I’d feel a hell of a lot more comfortable if I got a solid yes.”

“Chan-” Ji begins only to be cut off by your huff.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you grumble although your tone is light and somewhat amused, “gimme that.” Snatching the phone from Ji’s hand you hold the damn thing up to your ear, just barely catching your friend’s stifled chuckle. “It’s fine Chan, I’m on board so long as Felix is. Just don’t assume this means you and Ji aren’t obligated to hold up your designated best friend duties. I expect a spare key for each of us and, Chris, so help me God, If either of you fall off the face of the earth I’m personally dragging the two of you two my place for hangouts. Got it?” You could hear Chan huff out a small chuckle on the line while Jisung beside you allowed himself to laugh audibly. The mixed laughter made you smile as you felt any lingering nervousness about this major shift in your life fade further away. It didn’t go away entirely and it wouldn’t for days after, but you felt better about it. 

“Yes ma’am, will do,” Chan says with a smile so obvious you can hear it in his voice. “Felix will be home in a couple of hours, I’ll be pitching it to him around dinner. I’ll let you guys know what he says.”

“Sounds good,” you reply simply. You’re about to hand the phone back to Ji when Chan’s voice keeps you on the line.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you… and sorry.” You pause, blinking out towards the road in confusion.

“Sorry for what?” 

“Just… for everything. For stealing your friend and boyfriend away I guess.”

You sighed out of your nose, your lips rolling into a fine line as your free hand gripped the steering wheel. You didn’t expect those words to hit you so hard. 

“S’not your fault,” you say in almost a whisper, your throat tightening as you speak. From beside you Jisung’s gaze grew concerned as he listened to the conversation happening through his phone, catching only your half of everything. 

“I know that, just… thought you deserved to hear it.” 

This time a small smile broke out across your lips. Chan was such a huge softie. While the two of you weren’t as close as you were with the other guys in the friend group, that’s not to say you didn’t feel comfortable around him or didn’t consider him to be a friend at all. Chan was the best. The tired dad of the group you could always rely on. It makes sense he’d extend this comfort towards you, predictable almost, and it made you feel cared for. 

“Thanks Channie, it… it means a lot.”

“Anytime.”

You pass your phone back to a confused Ji who stayed on the line for a bit longer before ending the call. He then fixes you with a look of confusion and concern, not wanting to pry but also feeling extremely curious as to what the hell that was all about. You simply give him a small half-smile and a shrug of your shoulders. 

“Just Chan being Chan,” is all you tell him. It’s beginning to dawn on you that even though Hyunjin may not be around, and while that fact is still utterly devastating, you’re not without support. And while things are changing, sometimes too rapidly for comfort, everyone who cares about you is still doing their best to support you or do whatever they feel is best for you. Even Hyunjin, as far away as he was from you right now.

•.*°•♤•°*.•

The sound of the door opening pulls your attention from what is now Felix’s room. Pushing off from the doorframe you were leaning against, you throw one last glance to the room before uncrossing your arms and making your way to the front to greet your new roommate home. Felix had just moved his bed into your place yesterday, making today his first official day as your roomie - so you wanted to make sure he was given a warm welcome as he stepped into what was officially now his home. However, once you rounded the half wall that semi divided the living room from the combined kitchen/dining area, you were surprised to see your old roommate slipping his shoes off in the entryway instead. 

“Hey,” you said with clear surprise, making Jisung lift his head to fix you with the same smile he always seemed to give you when he came home.

“Hey,” he chuckles, crossing the threshold with plastic bags in hand, “surprised?” You nod, stunned, and Jisung only laughs more heartily in response. “Knew you would be.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“Chan’s coming too, we wanted to have dinner together to make Felix feel more at home, just the four of us.”

“Ah,” is all you say as Ji dropped the bags onto a nearby counter and began putting away groceries like he still lived there. All you could do was watch.

Slipping onto a barstool, you silently place your chin in your palms as you watch Ji move from the island counter to the fridge, back to the counter, and then to whatever cabinet he needed next. No words are exchanged as you watch him busy himself. Cabinet, counter, fridge, a whispered swear, back to the cabinet, pantry. Only the sounds that came from Ji’s scattered twirling filled the room, and neither of you felt the need to fill the air with anything other than that. It was odd. It was as though you were in this tiny pocket of time, one where everything was still the same as it was months ago.

“What about Binnie?” You suddenly ask, breaking the silence. 

“Bin knows,” Ji replies swiftly, putting away the last of the food. “He encouraged it.”

“He did?”

“Yeah.” Done with his chore. Ji shucked off his flannel and dropped it onto the island counter before leaning himself onto his elbows next to it. Woah, when did he start filling out? His arms and chest look broader. 

“I had asked him to come,” Ji continued, “but he said this was for us.” Jisung’s fingers laced together as his gaze drifted somewhere onto the marbled countertop in front of him. “Chan and Felix are like brothers, been friends since way back, I think since they were teenagers. So, this move, It's a big deal for them too. We figured a dinner together might help us… transition better.”  

You nodded at Ji’s explanation, but all you could focus on was the odd expression on his face. The way Ji's brows knit together as his gaze remained fixed on the random spot before him. It was as if the more lost he became in his own thoughts the more a cloud formed over him, darkening his features, and it was then that you realized this was finally starting to hit him too. This was sinking in for, not just for him, but for you as well. This was real. The full gravity of your new situation made your heart lurch and you snap. 

Tears immediately spill down your cheeks before you can stop them, and a small sob choked out of you. Jisung’s head immediately whips up at the sound, and in a flash, he's rounding the island just in time for you to slip off your stool and get wrapped up in his arms. He holds you tight, your face pressed against his shoulder, broader than it was before, and you sob and sob and sob. 

“Why is this so hard?” You manage to push out between gasps and small hiccups. You're taken by surprise by Ji's low tone and sage words. 

“Because… all change is hard.” 

You pull your head back to look at him and feel your heart lurch again when you see him crying as well. You always hated seeing Ji cry. He didn't do it often, and when he did, it almost physically pained you. Such sad tears never belong on such a bright and happy face. His lips were only ever meant to pout or smile whenever his cheeks weren't stuffed with food. You'd miss seeing those puffy cheeks in the morning. 

“Please come visit us,” he rasps, gaze boring into yours with such fervent intensity that it just makes you cry all the harder. “At home, at the studio… wherever you want, as much as you want, all the time even. Just… Please. We're gonna miss you guys. I’m gonna miss you.”

•.*°•♤•°*.•

After a really hard cry and lots of hugging, you and Ji finally settle into your all too familiar couch. While Jisung wasn't normally one for cuddling, tending to save such affection for when it's needed, he decided now was such a time. So as you and him waited for Chan and Felix to arrive you ended up spending the better part of an hour and a half or so curled into each other, his body half draped over yours, a blanket covering your overlapping legs as your shared comfort show played on the screen. It really was as if nothing had changed. Up until you heard the front door open. 

“Helloooo? Door was unlocked. Is anyone home?” Chan's Aussie twang called from the entryway in a playfully cautious tone. 

“Yeah, we're here,” Ji said as he lifted himself off of you, his mouth stretching open in a yawn and a hand scratching at his head as you remained lounged on the couch for a moment, already missing his warmth. Once you saw Felix’s blond head pop into your field of view you instantly sprung from the couch, remembering how earlier you wanted to give him the absolutely warmest welcome you could muster for his first day as your roommate. 

“Felix! Welcome home!” You said with as much joy and energy you could muster, forcibly pulling yourself from your blue mood from moments ago. 

“Oh, heh, gee, thanks,” Felix said bashfully, a tint of red staining his cheeks as an absolutely precious smile broke out across his face the instant your arms wrapped around him. It lifted your spirits to see and he returned your hug eagerly, a low rumble of a chuckle tumbling around in his chest. When you parted your gaze immediately picked up on the downright fatherly smile Chan was giving the two of you.

“What?” You asked him. 

“Mmh, nothing. It's nothing,” he said dismissively as he gave you a hug of his own. 

The four of you effortlessly went from quick greetings, to casual conversation about how everyone's day went, to dinner prep. The idea was for all four of you to make something but somehow it ended up devolved into just you and Chan cooking while Jisung and Felix sat at the island counter yapping and doing whatever menial task was given to them. It was nice, everyone being together. The dinner was a good idea.

“Hard to believe Felix isn't coming home with me once tonight is over,” Chan said as he seared some meat for the dinner. “We've been friends since we were teenagers…” 

You paused what you were doing, giving Chan your undivided attention. You knew where this was going, the finality was settling in the way it just did for you and Jisung earlier, he just needed the space to process. To your surprise he was taking this seemingly better than you and Ji were, but then again he could just be saving his tears for later. Or maybe he already shed them. 

“You'll take care of him, right?” Well, that was unexpected. 

“Huh?”

“You'll take care of him, right?” Chan repeated again. His voice was low as he turned off the heat to the pan, his eyes met yours and you weren't expecting the mix of emotions in them. Worry, sorrow, determined protectiveness. But overall you could see the hope in his eyes. 

“He's not a kid Channie,” you say with a smile, amused by Chan's sweetness and earnestness.

And it's more like he'd be taking care of me at this point, you think with a sense of bitterness. 

“I know,” Chan replied, a touch flustered as he busied himself with plating the now finished food. “It's just… he's not from around here and I said I wouldn't leave him behind but-”

“Hey, wait a second. You don't honestly think that's what you're doing right now, do you?” His silence was deafening. “Chan, you're not abandoning him,” you said earnestly. The hurt puppy dog eyes Chan gave you almost made you want to spring into tears all over again. Instead you rested your hand on his arm, giving it a reaffirming squeeze as your gaze held his. 

“I know he'll miss you, but I already promised Ji we'd go bug you guys, like, all the time. We're two sets of lifelong friends making a big adjustment, so let's all do it together, yeah?” You said those words, you wanted so desperately to believe in them, but you still felt the ache. 

In fact, all of you did, because all through dinner after something felt… off. When laughter subsided, when conversations lulled, when the food had been eaten and the four of you settled on the too cramped couch, all of you felt it. Yet, selfishly, you couldn’t help but feel like you were feeling it the most. How much more change were you going to have to face? How many more adjustments? Hyunjin, Changbin, Jisung, all people you had come to rely on all busy getting on with their lives while you felt left behind. The thought made your stomach feel sour.

To distract yourself you volunteered to collect the plates and deal with all the dishes, making the excuse that if you don't get to it now then they'll never get done. You must've been convinced because the boys let you work without protest and instead focused on the TV and their commentary to the random nonsense was playing on the screen. Well, that's what you had assumed anyway. Yet, in fact, one pair of eyes lingered on you a little longer than the other two as you made your escape to the kitchen. It was as you were scrubbing the dishes that were too big to fit into your dishwasher that a deep and gentle tone roused your attention. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“I'm fine,” you replied a little too quickly and a little too sharply. You didn't have to turn to see Felix’s unconvinced face. “Seriously, I'm fine,” you tried again, this time putting a bit more levity into your voice. 

Although still unconvinced Felix relents with a sigh. You think that was going to be the end of it, but instead he reached his hand out to stop the faucet and pulled you into his arms, wet hands and all. For a fraction of a second you stiffen, you contemplate pulling away, shirking the moment off, but as soon as those thoughts came they just as quickly vanished, gone in the single second it took for Felix to squeeze you ever so slightly. It was enough. Oh great, now you were crying again. 

“You know you can come to me if something’s up,” his low, smooth voice rang next to your ear, “I’m here to listen. I always have been, haven’t I?” And he has.

Always there, ready to listen, ready to support, always patient. You felt silly, why were you holding back now? From the very beginning, Felix never gave you any grief, never expected you to just magically get over your love and loss or any of your thoughts regarding Hyunjin. He was the only one willing to ask questions about the relationship you two had, how it affected you, and he seemed to be the only one around you who saw the story from all angles. He was such a rock that it made you realize that you never thought of Felix as having any issues. Same with Chan. Not until now, when the two of them had to shift their lives around and suddenly be without their best friend…

“Y/N,” Felix mumbled, his voice dragging you from your spiral. “Let me in. Let me help,” he whispered, “It’s part of the reason why I moved in with you.” You swallowed hard at those words.

“And… and what was the other part?” It took a moment for Felix to answer. When he pulled away from the hug just enough to look you in the eyes he had a look on his face you hadn’t yet seen before.

“Because I didn’t wanna be alone.”

“Hey, you two okay over here?” Chan’s concerned tone as he approached made the two of you turn your gazes to him and, suddenly, it's as if you and Felix were suddenly on the same wavelength. 

“Yeah,” you said with a smile, wiping away the tears just barely beginning to fall. “We're good.”

“Just bonding,” Felix added, dropping the hug and giving Chan a reassuring smile of his own. The sight of the two of you seemingly telling the truth managed to put Chan at ease, his taught body relaxing as he flashed his signature dimples at the two of you. 

“Good, I-”

“Hey, I'm feeling looooonely over here!” Ji called out playfully from the couch, “Don't have a moment without meeee!” Jisung’s playful outburst caused you, Chan, and Felix to break out into amused chuckles as everyone reconvened in the living room. Whether it was from everyone's reassurance towards each other or from all your crying that led to your ultimate acceptance of your new situation, in the end all that mattered was that your heart was feeling just all the more lighter. Ji was right. This was a good idea, after all.

•.*°•♤•°*.•

Hyunjin laid in the very center of the dance studio, the only light coming from the windows in the double doors that lead to the rest of the building. The floor was cold and it was hard and it was grounding. Everything he needed right now. In his hand was his phone, the device clutched tightly by long, slender fingers, the slight pain yet another thing that kept him grounded as his eyes stayed glued to the off-white ceiling. All the while, Hyunjin’s thoughts were a swirling mess, his mind so frazzled it felt like at any moment his brain would combust and leak out of his ears. 

Mere moments prior Seungmin just dropped possibly one of the biggest bombs Hyunjins sensitive heart could handle. 

At first, it sounded like great news. The showcase had led to a lot of buzz for the studio this time around, unfortunately because someone let it slip online what Minho had done and the resulting debate made people want to check out the studio that made a dancer risk their wellbeing with such intensity, but regardless of the why it still lead to a lot of people reaching out to give their support. And then came the sponsor. This was huge, Seungmin had years of experience funding his business through dance lessons and donations but he’d never had a dedicated sponsor want to work with him. Not only that, the great news in question? The sponsor was giving Seungmin all the support he needed to grow the business, his studio was going to expand! Hyunjin was so excited! Then the bomb was dropped. 

The caveat for all this support? Seungmin had to relocate the business. At first, Hyunjin was devastated, what did that mean for him? Was he going to be out of a job? Not to mention Seungmin was his friend and from the sound of it the relocation was going to take him pretty far, what if they wouldn’t get to see eachother again? And then came the second bomb: Seungmin asked Hyunjin to go with him, as his principal dancer.

“You’re doing the job already,” Seungmin said with a smile, trying to be as convincing as possible. “To a lot of people you’re already the face of the company, but now you’ll get the pay for it.”

“I don’t need the raise-”

“You’ll have your pick of roles for whatever performance catches your eye, you won’t have to teach classes unless you want to - you could just focus on dancing. Oh! And- and you’ll have more flexible hours and the area is great. C’mon, what do you say?’

Hyunjin didn’t know what to say at first. He could clearly see how desperately Seungmin was trying to convince him to do this without outright begging (as if Seungmin would ever beg) and while he did love the company and his job he still couldn’t bring himself to just say yes… so he said he’d think about it. That’s what led him to laying in the middle of a dark dance studio, lying helplessly on his back as his thoughts spiraled above him. What should he do? As tempting as the offer was, he couldn't just uproot himself and race off miles and miles away from all the things he held dear where he currently lived. Things like you. 

Hyunjin chewed on his bottom lip as the thought slipped through the storm in his head to the very forefront of his mind. Should he even be thinking about you? Because, in truth, he’s always thinking about you. Every day. Maybe it was time for him to stop. He was, after all, the one who drew the line in the sand, the one who said the two of you shouldn’t be friends any more, the one who walked away… again. Maybe a move would be a good thing for him, for one thing it would remove the temptation to go see you every 10 minutes - to crawl his way back to you, fall to his knees, beg you to take him back and to forget everything he confessed to you, to spend the rest of his life stuffing every inconvenient feeling of love and adoration he ever felt for you as far down as it would go if it meant getting to spend his days by your side again. From never parting ways with you ever again. 

“Hey, Minho, I found him,” Jeongin’s voice bounced off the lacquered flooring just a moment before the blinding fluorescent switched to life, causing Hyunjin to cry out and shield his eyes as his two friends made their way towards him. 

“Now would you look at this pathetic display? It’s almost painful,” Minho said as he nudged Hyunjins head with the toe of his shoe as Hyunjin remained silent, busy with rubbing his assaulted eyes and adjusting to the newly lit space. 

“And here I was hoping that he learned how to finally stop sulking over Y/N, he even shaved his head and everything.” 

“I’m not sulking,” Hyunjin snapped, eyes squinting open to leer at Minho and Jeongin.

“Mm-hmm, suuuure you’re not,” Jeongin grinned, crouching down so his head was not to far above Hyunjin’s on the floor. “Then why don’t you tell us what you’re doing laying on the floor, in the dark?” 

“Processing.”

“So, sulking,” Minho said quickly, causing Hyunjin to frown. 

“Okay, fine, yes, I’m sulking!” Hyunjin shouted, covering his face with his hands and sighing.

“Knew it,” Minho said with a sly grin as he sat cross legged next to Hyunjin.

“But not about Y/N…” Hyunjin then clarified. 

“Then about what?” Jeonging asked, giving his older friend a sideways look. Minho just had enough time to open his mouth and was about to make another quip when Hyunjin spoke up first.

“Seungmin is relocating the company and he wants me to go with him.” A pause.

“Relocating where?” Minho asked tentatively and when Hyunjin told them they all fell deathly silent. For a moment you would’ve been able to hear a pin drop.

“Woah, that’s… pretty far…” Jeongin eventually gets out. “What did you tell Seungmin?”

“That I’d think about it.”

“And? Have you been thinking about it?” Despite his attempts to seem nonchalant, the lilt in Minho’s voice gave away just how anxious he was to hear Hyunjin’s answer. 

“I have, not for long though. He just told me…” Hyunjin paused to look at his phone that was still tightly clutched in his hands, “like, four hours ago.” 

“Well, what have you thought up so far?” This time Minho didn’t try to hide his tone of voice at all. Hyunjin shrugged. 

“Dunno, that I’m unsure? On the one hand, it would be a great position. I’d have more of a say in what we do, what roles I do, and maybe the space would help me- you know- move on?” With a sigh Hyunjin sits up, meeting his own gaze in one of the mirrored walls of the practice room. “But, on the other hand, if I leave then I wouldn’t just be making it harder to see Y/N but to see you guys too, same goes for my parents. I’ve also really come to like where I live, I see it as home, I’m not too fond of the idea of moving so far.” 

“Sounds like you want to stay more than go,” Jeongin points out, causing Hyunjin to let out a dry chuckle before turning to his friends.

“I guess so, but I’m not sure if that’s enough. Seungmin is going whether I do or not, which means I might be out of a job. I don’t know, maybe I should go. I put so much into this company and I don’t know many other studios that will treat me as good as Seungmin.” Hyunjin’s attention is immediately pulled to Minho when a strange choking sound comes from his friend's throat. At first Hyunjin was concerned, but one look at the strange look on Minho’s face made that concern turn to curiosity. “Minho? You good?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“Don’t lie to me again, you said you wouldn’t after I had to drive you ass to the hospital,” Hyunjin said sharply, a flash of irritation in his eyes. Minho sighed. 

“Alright, you’re right. It’s just that…” Minho said nervously, his fingers beginning to toy with the rubber soles of his shoe.

“Spit it out, Minho,” Jeongin said with a small smirk on his face, enjoying the sudden bashfulness of his usually so collected and mischievous friend. Minho glared at Jeonging but cleared his throat nonetheless.

“Well, Hyunjin, if you’re worried about whether you should stay or not because of employment, well… Don’t.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means…” Minho took a breath, “It means my company wants to hire you. They’ve been wanting to hire you, and they’ve been wanting me to act as a go-between ‘cause we’re friends. I just never said anything ‘cause I knew you were so loyal to Seungmin.” Minho paused to look at Hyunjins stunned face, a small and bashful smile on his own. “So if you want to stay or go, you don’t have to make your decision based on employment. Just base it off whatever you feel would be best for you.”

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

Uhm.... well, hi. Yeah, I'm alive, and no, this fic isn't abandoned. I still plan on finishing it. Idk what to say, I don't really have a reason for being gone. Maybe it was my ADHD. Maybe it was my inability to cope as my kid got bigger. Maybe I was just sad cause I was lonely and bored and had no motivation for anything.

Update, I moved. Went from Washington state back to Texas, and already I feel better. I also have been getting over myself and getting help mapping out story points instead of being stubborn and insisting I do it all myself. Chapters will still be up inconsistently, but I do have a fair bit planned out, so writers block won't be as much of a handicap anymore.

I really thank you for your patience (if anyone is even here anymore). I hope what I've written was worth any kind of wait. Also wow looking back I felt like a wrote so much but in reality I didn't write as much as I thought I did.

Taglist (anything in red means i wasn't'table to tag): @groovygroovyhyunjin @hhwangsmoon @luvyblossom @doggezz @kayleefriedchicken @hyunjinhoexxx @zadkielr @bincxtesworld @jisunglyricist @kpop-kink @amarecerasus @its-kitten-now @antisocial-socialbutterfly @s-3-l-3-na @143il0v3you @tajannah-price1

[mediumgayitalian]

via the frantic dms i sent to my friend:

if i were to start nywhere it would have to be with frankie. she lowkey annoyed me as a kid but i love her now. and who would the naive but bright w a dark past and complicated feelings about Everything character be…thats hazel baby

loooooooooooove the idea of 15 day old hazel with the body of a woman who died in the 40s like YES

in the mad scientist vamp family….nico her vamp brother…..vampirism as a metaphor for homosexuality obviously….nico being an old ass vamp who went into hiding very young when he was first turned literally centuries ago….

just as out of time as hazel but in a totally different way…..

theyre in the timeless teenage setting of monster high with all their other friends lol.

god there are so many other obvious ones. that are not exactly the same. but could be shifted. percy as this very powerful sea monster character…but hes half human. hides that shit HARD. couldnt pass in the normie world and is always looking over his shoulder in the monster world…terrified hes going to be outed…and doesnt that mean more than one thing here. and annabeth the half normie half monster of some kind but she doesnt know…neither does anyone else…,number one rumor is that she isnt a monster at all. rules the school but people HATE her cus they dont understand why shes here. shes always proving herself.

looooooooooooove the idea of jason from ever after high

love lovr LOVE IT i am obsessed

toppled things over back there…no memory at all…only the feeling of being monstrous….him and his fangs fit right in at MH…but the guilt of something he cant remember haunts him……

leo as heath flames that one is easy lol

will my darling my mummy boy. in a tomb for literally 5000 years. everyone he ever knew and loved is looooong long gone. his language is gone. his culture is gone. he is an artifact. he REPRESENTS all that is left of his time. hes gonna nav that. nico the only other person at MH even close to as old as he is….but its not the same.

nico is literally one tenth as oldas he is

500 vs 5000 years

nico hated where he lived….hes grouchy but he loves MH. loves hazel. loves the new opportunity to let his freak fly.

will who misses the past so bad his teeth ache with it. wrapped with bandages he can never take off. or that he wont take off.

and iloooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooove frank as medusas son i LOVE IT

terrified of letting himself be seen bc that could kill everyone he loves IKTR

hating his heritage. parentage at odds with percy -- but percy loves him, percy is so kind. so hard for him to reconcile that with all his mother has told him and that he KNOWS is true….she was treated so evilly….and yet…percy is so kind….and none of the other monsters are so bad either…and yet they can be free in a way he cannot…..

and WEREWOLF PIPER

hairy and BEAUTIFUL and always feeling like an animal. in the normie world for entirely different reasons but always feeling less than wherever she goes.

so so beautiful and so so hurting and so so angry and so so desperate to be something shes not

attached to the cycles of the moon.

okay thalia kills me bc she is firmly in ever after high and crawling her way back to her brother. never ever fit in. never tried to. you know the fairytale brother and sister?

basically its. this brother and sister are cast out by their stepmother. into the woods they escape before she kills them, but she has cursed the woods so they cannot feel any softness from it. days later the brother is desperate for a drink and dives to a stream but the sister hears the stream whisper that whomever drinks from it will be turned into a tiger. so she begs and pleads and pulls him away. on they go. they make their way to another pool, and once again the brother is desperate, and this time the pool whispers that whomever drinks from it will become a wolf. once again the brother is desperate. once again the sister pleads him away. the third creek they pass the brother cannot be stopped -- the creek whispers a similar warning, whomever drinks from it will turn to a dear. the sister, weeping, cannot stop her brother, and he is turned into a deer.

the woods, satisfied, leave the sister to its softness. she lives in the woods for years, deflecting hunters away from her brother. caring for him. and after many years she meets a hunter, a king, and he is so impressed by her skill and by her love for her brother that he falls in love with her. and she him. they marry, and she takes her brother with her to live on the grounds.

only her ascent to royalty catches the attention of the stepmother. and the stepmother casts an evil, twisted copy of the sister, sending the copy to take her place, and the twisted sister slaughters her deer brother and feeds him to the kingdom. the king knows what has happened and is horrifed at his wife. the real sister, heartbroken and ashamed, flees to the woods, where she dies.

the whole thing with ever after high is that its about legacies. the children of fairy tale characters -- good and evil -- must assume their parents roles.

jason and thalia as the myth of the brother and sister. except

jason is so thirsty.

thalia cannot stop him from the second pool.

he turns into a wolf. a wolf a thousand times thirstier than he was before.

he begs her to leave, as he is turned. to abandon him.

but she cant.

and he kills her.

tears her to shreds.,

he is hunted by all the kingdom for his crimes. flees, ripping through the woods. falls down the well of madness, which would usually connect to wonderland (actual EAH lore lol) except it is the solar eclipse, and the water takes him, instead, anew, to monster high

god i love monster high lore.

ANYWAYS he is a werewolf there. no memory except the blood on his hands.

and thalia --

thalia did not die.

she did spend years in the woods. hunting. desperate. told her brother was slaughtered. not shown his body. refusing to admit it. refusing to have anything to do with the king. hunting her brother down to find him again. to hold him even if he will never again be recognizable

because THAT is her legacy, that is the contract she signed, that is all she cared about

and she finds him alright

toying what nicos family looks like now. either i lean into loving adoptive hades & persephone who are franks like hazel and have nico with them or if hades is more layered than that. like very old and doing underground things idk

nico as an italian vamp who cant look in mirrors or like have garlic. drives will nuts he'll near kill himself to cook with garlic and will is like look one day im just gonna lose my shit and stab a chopstick through your chest i stg

DREW AS ABBEY I LOVE

bigger than all the other girls and shorter and meaner but not always trying to be. always thinks she can do things better and she CAN but she cant make friends for shit. mean to protect herself. cries herself to sleep. misses home so desperately. wants to feel beautoful. doesnt until piper who stomps into school without even TRYING, without the pretty clothes or the shaving her face or doing fuck all

and drew HATES HER she is immeidately beloved and top game and friends everywhere and she doesnt even brush her fur drew wants her DEAD

and dreams about her every night

was toying with a couple things for nefera de nile but no. will needs to wake up alone in that tomb

cecil is ust straght up a normie lol.

he is literally a mini victor frankenstein hes just buckshit insane and so so good at fucking things up that he has created life four separate times in for separate ways to the point that everyone was like okay you jhave to go here

you are a hazard to society we cant handle your freak ass and they would love you

and hes genuinely such an autistic weirdo that he fits in fine everyone thinks hes just done enough experiments on himself to become a monster

theyre not entirely wrong

hes obsessed with will and will is a little bit into it thats why theyre friends

also cecil managed to revive a scarab will was buried with and he cries and it makes him feel tethered to this time for the first time

just straight up witch lou ellen yeah that work s for me

via my friend: "and what kind of monster are you to attend here?" "oh! im pagan :))"

genie reyna stuck in a lantern world with her sister and the weirdness of the lantern world for YEAAAARSSS both trying to survive until the lantern is knocked over by percy…just cracked…she is free to live while her sister twists into a shade inside….she comes back for her sister as soon as she learns how but its too late by then…hylla is twisted beyond recognition and reyna almost detroys the monster world desperately trying to bring her back

okay lee is easy. will is just trying to live his life and slowly he is adjusting and one day there is a new zombie at school with his fucking brother's face :)) absolutely no mortal memories, has been a zombie for decades and all his memories are from his zombie life. but thats lee. and will gets his whole world shattered again because lee is back like he prayed would happen but lee is no longer his brother

i dont have anything specific for kayla or austin but i really like the idea of them being older ghosts that died young and will kind of adopts them because they miss the past like he does and he is close enough to death that he can communicate with them in a different way

yes i like that theyre ghosts

GROVER

thats easy tho hes a plant monster

no extra lore for him he doesnt need any

he can be a little evil tho

as a treat

thats everybody i think!!

how embarrassed would yall be on my behalf if i started talking abiut a monster high au.

[yellow-faerie]

The Story of Bakkru and Misu

or, The Boy Who Lived, and Died, and Lived Again

In the slave quarters beneath one of Nal Hutta's largest auction houses, a grandmother is coming to the end of her life; her family - those that can be there - come to her side. There, they hear the story of Bakkru and Misu, an Ekkreth tale about dancing and fire, and freedom and death, and the bond between a grandmother and the child she helped raise.

I tell you this story to save your life.

If you're interested in any commentary on the choices I make in this story with the Amavikka or Amatakka, as well as some general thoughts on the Amavikka of Nal Hutta, check under the readmore :)

First of all, thank you for coming down here to check out my inane ramblings about the Amavikka people in the wider galaxy (in this case, Nal Hutta) for more words than in the actual fic - I will almost definitely end up writing stuff for other planets/groups, just you wait.

Second of all, huge thanks to @adragonsfriend and @looseleafteeaves who've both made dictionaries and guides that I used extensively through writing this, I would probably have given up if they hadn't been available so…thanks for sharing those to the general public, and for creating them in the first place!

The whole language and culture was originally created by @/fialleril but if you have any interest in Amatakka and the Amavikka beyond that, their dictionaries and guides are a really good place to go to (and that is where I get most of the words that I use from).

And last of all, here's the fic commentary!

Names

There are several new names and characters in this - I'll start with the characters I made for the framing part, and then I'll do the names for the actual tale.

A general note on Amavikka names: first names tend (not always) to be just a word from Amatakka, although there is some variance - this isn't always the case, but I've decided it tends to be even more common within the Nal Hutta community and so all of the characters have first names in this pattern.

Similarly, last names tend to be two words put together. Again, there are exceptions (especially if the Amavikka in question was not born into the community and has a name they wish to hold onto from before they were enslaved) but I've opted against using any in this fic for reasons known as, I think it's way too fun to make up names in this style haha

OK, so onto the actual names:

Qelin Omerukka

the name Qelin is literally the verb 'to talk, to tell a story', and it's perhaps a little on the nose but then again, so are several names throughout the Star Wars lore

Omerukka means 'Lightspinner' and is the name her mother and father made for themselves when they were married

(I have a small headcanon that one thing that a couple can do when they get married is to mix their names together, so there is always something that connects them - this is most common on worlds where slaves get sold off planet a lot, like on Nal Hutta, and less common on world like Tatooine where the slave trade tends to be far more local. As always, there are exceptions to the rules)

Sudu, Orrin, Lutlu and Rethka, the children of Qelin

Sudu is a word that means 'whirling, spinning, swirling' - Nal Hutta Amavikka are likely to see this name and think of the swirling eddies that you sometimes get in water due to the unstable catacombs beneath much of the planets surface, that can be incredibly dangerous is you are in the water and too close to them

Orrin is a word that means 'bird of prey' - this is a loan word from Ryl but is often used on Nal Hutta to mean a very specific, slightly carnivorous and rather large bird of prey that targets Hutts

Lutlu is a word that means 'surprise' or literally 'chaos now!' - there is no particular connotations for this word on Nal Hutta

Rethka is a word that means 'strider, walker' - again, this is a name that would likely be quite common throughout Amavikka communities, as the idea of walking a long distance into the wilds to free yourself are very common (be it the desert or the swamp or the frozen tundra or up out of the mine tunnels), but not so common on water worlds

Shursu La-Nalikeh

Shursu, like the other names, is a word that means 'root, foundation, base', and on Nal Hutta, would probably make Amavikka think of the strong foundations of the huge swamp trees that survive

Lah-Nalikeh is a surname that means 'Wet-Life' - it's a very traditional Nal Hutta name, which has connotations of escaping and living a 'wet life' away from the homesteads within the wet swamps

Leshna Rapshmi

Leshna is a word that means 'lightning' and is an idea that is somewhat connected to the Lukka that Amavikka raised on Nal Hutta would know - where on Tatooine, Lukka is the seven winds come together, on Nal Hutta he is the storm (the thunder, the rain and the lightning) and the flood come together

Rapshmi is a surname that means 'Wiseword' which is not a surname that's particularly linked to any dialect of Amavikka

I imagine that Leshna's family was probably slaves of some sort of spacer faction and so never had a firm community to fall back on, but only what they learned from the few people they came in contact with (and I have...an idea for a tale about this, which I might just use Leshna and the Rapshmi's to tell)

She and Orrin have only been married a short while, and have yet to decide whether to merge their names or not; if they did, it would likely be Omeshmi, or 'Light of Wisdom'

Peha Rillochelii

Peha is a word that means 'to rise, to get up' which I think has connotation of freedom in it

Rillochelii on the other hand is a desert name from Tatooine, which means something like 'Dunerunner' which definitely has connotations of freedom as chelii literally means 'runaway, or escapee'

Peha was unlucky to be sold off planet and away from her family as quite a young age, but she had been old enough to remember her name which is deeply important to the Amavikka, so while she is being fostered by the grandmothers of this new quarter, she keeps that name

And that is all the names in the framing section! I know most of them barely speak, but I did want to use them to highlight some of the differences between various Amavikka dialects.

So, onto the actual myth names:

Bakkru:

Bakkru is a type of dance that fialleril commented as being a dance that was often used to convey hidden messages; on Nal Hutta, it is told to be the name of the boy who created it, but in most other Amavikka cultures this tale has been lost, or is simply not told that much

This might be because Nal Hutta is one of the worlds where slave dancers are very, very prominent and in large enough numbers that having a dance to convey secrets makes sense due to the fact that Nal Hutta is considered the luxurious homeworld of the HUtts (another world I can think of might be Zygerria, if any Amavikka ever ended up there)

Bakkru is also known as just Ru, and that is how he is referred to in any myth that he appears in (usually as a silent agent of Ekkreth, and usually to help dancers to escape their masters) beyond his origin myth

On a small tangent about the name Ru - I quite like the idea that any dancer who has learned how to dance the Bakkru and uses it, may add the prefix Ru- to their name to signal this to other people in introductions

(For example, if Peha ever were to become a dancer and she also learned Bakkru, she might introduce herself as Ru-Peha; it is less an honorific, and more a way to tell someone that they should be watching her dance very closely)

Misu

Misu literally means 'the act of sharing of memories after a loved one's death' and she is named for how she speaks often of Bakkru's memory after his death so that she might teach the rest of the people the dance that had saved their lives

Misu as a character within Amavikka mythology definitely turns up in some form in most dialects as her name is synonymous with one very important aspect of Amavikka mourning (sharing memories, one of the only things that they will have of their lost love one)

On Nal Hutta, she is used in Bakkru's story and is rather minor to the story, but on Corellia, she is the one who holds all the records of the debtors and so knows all who are enslaved that way, and speaks of their memory to anyone who comes to her, and is a major part of a lot of tales

Also her name being similar to Mittu, as in the Ebra and Mittu story on Tatooine is not a complete accident; there are a lot of parallels in the relationship between grandmother of the community and a young child, and on Nal Hutta, the story of where Tzai comes from is very different (as they do not have the Tzai plant - I still have to work out how Tzai works on Amavikka planets that aren't Tatooine, and specifically how the lore around them works)

Jula

Jula, as sort of implied/explained in the fic, means 'flame, ember' and is an epithet for Ekkreth which is particularly popular on Nal Hutta

It's not common for Ekkreth to be portrayed as anything but a living thing, but on Nal Hutta, fire is considered to be somewhat sentient and thus, Ekkreth can take it's shape

Fire in general is closely linked with the idea of freedom on Nal Hutta - just as daylight/the sun is freedom for the Amavikka confined to mines, and rain is freedom for the Amavikka of the desert, so is fire linked to freedom on Nal Hutta

Fire is quite uncommon on the planet and where it does burn, it is often put out quickly by rain or just not enough dry kindling for it to burn as everything is wet but the expensive sort of houses that Depur own that are dry - another reason why fire is considered freeing is that it will tear through those houses greedily while leaving the much damper, wetter slave quarters alone

I will say that the Ekkreth parts of this fic feel like the weakest section - I feel like Ekkreth should be more tricky than they are in this, and I'm not entirely happy with them turning into fire itself - perhaps a creature who could sit in the flames for the first conversation with Bakkru, where Bakkru thinks that he is speaking with the flames themselves, and then perhaps a creature who breathed fire for the later meeting, but I wasn't sure what creatures would fit

(All of these names come from

Some General Nal Hutta-Amavikka Worldbuilding

So there are a few things that I mention throughout the fic that I feel are worth talking about

Evokka

So Evokka - the Amavikka name for the planet - comes from the original name for Nal Hutta (in Legends), that being Evocar, which was the home of the native Evocii who got enslaved by the Hutts when they decided that Evocar would be a good new homeworld for them

I thought it would be neat if Nal Hutta was thus referred to as Evokka, a name that is a slight shift in pronunciation from the original to fit Amatakka better but which still holds the spirit of the original name in tact

Abbu-Dabbu (and Ru)

Abbu-Dabbu and Ru are both characters of myth that are mentioned in the third installation of Blue_Sunshine's Desert Sun Series, Fallout and I don't believe they are mentioned again

I used both as part inspiration for this fic, using Ru as the main character (although changing his name slightly) but using his name of the Boy Who Lived, and Died, and Lived Again as the title for this fic

Ru is probably more akin to a prophet (like Maru and Tena) than to the more godlike figures of Ar-Amu and Ekkreth, and Lukka and Leia, (and Vokkri, who I will come to later) but I did list Abbu-Dabbu with the divine figures, so I'm thinking that she probably is divine

Abbu-Dabbu is also mentioned in this fic - I'm not quite sure what to do with her within a tale centred on her yet, but I am comfortable using her as a character who is prone to turning up in stories if there is need of the character being Safe For A While

I don't think that she actually needed to be in this fic beyond her first, brief mention but she ended up there anyway, so

Anyway, she is apparently quite linked to salt which I find interesting; in my mind, this has something to do with the swamps of Nal Hutta mostly being salt water and when it is dried (such as with fire) it creates salt

So this makes me think that as a witch, Abbu-Dabbu has some level of control over fire which allows her to dry the surrounding area enough that she can create a house of salt that doesn't get dissolved in the water

(This idea of salt being left behind is slightly mentioned in the fic when Bakkru is crying and Ekkreth-as-Jula dries his tears until all that is left is salt on his skin)

A Translation of Abbu-Dabbu's name, and the Nal Hutta dialect

With this in mind, I am going to attempt to come up with a translation of her name:

So, the important things in her story are salt, fire, being a witch/magic, home, being a beacon for the lost

But if her name is made of two of these ideas smooshed together, they would probably be related due to how similar Abbu and Dabbu are, and so I would be tempted to say Salt and Fire

With the current breadth of the Amatakka language, we have some words for these ideas already

Salt: tabtu (for preserving meat and fish), tavetabtu (red salt), amnabtu (black salt)

Fire: jula (flame, ember), itza (cooking fire, hearth), and anu (which means rain on Tatooine, and daylight in the mines, and fire on Nal Hutta)

So, here is where some dialect things come into play - I am honestly quite scared to consider dialects as I am not at all a professional conlanger but someone who is just fascinated with cultures and languages and all the moving parts of them, but here goes

So I propose that Tabtu -> Dabbu

The first T changes to a D, probably through a general phonological drift in the dialect, and the second is dropped altogether - I might play around with the idea of T's getting dropped or changed in the Nal Hutta dialect, although I'm not sure yet why this might be the case

Either way, this makes the part of the name Dabbu mean salt which then means we have to think about the Abbu part

Words for Heat on Tatooine and Nal Hutta

Now, both words for fire or flame don't fit at all, so I shifted my thoughts more towards heat

Using what we have, I would probably use jula if I was going to have a heat that was aggressive or angry, and so words for heat on Tatooine probably derive from this or maybe the word for white which is linked to the hotter of the two suns

So I'm thinking something like Terajula which means flame of the desert, and might mean heat - this would probably be tempered with a time of day to let the other person know how intense the heat was, as evening heat is different to midday heat, etc.

Itza has more of an implication of being a homely sort of fire, and I don't think that on Tatooine there would be much use for a word to describe the physical warmth of a home (perhaps the metaphorical kind though)

Meanwhile, on Nal Hutta, you have several types of heat - dry heat, wet heat, flame heat and artificial heat

Wet heat usually goes hand-in-hand with humidity, often the sort of heat you get in the swamps, and would translate as something like Lahjula

Flame heat is the heat that comes from flames and is quite similar to dry heat in how it feel but is far more important due to it's relation to fire - Dagrilela is the word used to refer to this, from the word 'Tagr' with a softened 't' meaning 'white' (white flames = the hottest, and so white has similar connotations on Nal Hutta as it does on Tatooine) and 'lela', the word for 'shine', which is from the shimmering affect that happens with heat, (all with an added 'i' in between so the consonants don't get mushed)

As fire is linked so closely to freedom, I think flame heat might also have some connection to the word anu

Artificial heat is the heat that is usually found in places where Depur lives, where they can control the temperature as they please, and so is described as something like 'Fake heat'

All these words for heat are somewhat irrelevant (and definitely need some workshopping haha) to the one I actually want to focus on - dry heat

There might also be a fifth type of heat, a 'home heat' so to say, which is some sort of mix between Fire Heat and the idea of home...but this whole heat discussion is really getting out of hand for someone who knows next to nothing about conlanging

Back to Abbu-Dabbu

Dry heat is what Abbu-Dabbu would need to keep a house of salt alive within the swamps; it would need to be absolute and blanket quite a distance all the time lest her house melt around her

(And perhaps the building of her house might be one of her stories, of trying again and again, and it is only when the lost and unsure wander into her home and she lets them give advice (ultimately showing that she is stronger when she is part of a community) does it hold)

Abbu is this dry heat, and it's actual meaning derives from the idea of salt - this is the type of heat which can be used to get salt from the water, and heat is such an integral part of the salt itself, it's most of the salt's name

So the D in Dabbu sort of signifies that it's the result of the dry heat (if that makes any sense, it is getting very late and I know I am becoming nonsensical)

Vokkri

Vottra is a god that does not come from Amavikka tradition but got folded in from the Evocii tradition and that is why he is mostly only on Nal Hutta

The name Vottri comes from the original name of the Sky God Evotiirin, a name that slowly shifted over time to Vottri, and he is often represented as a bright star that shines bright enough to guide runaways through the thick swamp mists

The star in actuality no longer exists - it went supernova at one point and vanished - but there are a lot of myths about Vottri vanishing to hide from Depur, and how he will return when all the Amavikka are free to guide them to safety

I think this would be an example of a word where the 't' does not get softened into a 'd', probably because it's in the middle of the word and if it were dropped, it would rather ruin the structure of the word

Also because the name is holy so is cared for more diligently - some words, like greetings and goodbyes and certain figures in myth are told in the same way throughout the Amavikka as they are so precious to them that they make sure to pronounce the words exactly right rather than let linguistic flow take them

I'm not entirely sure what his name might meant as 'kest' is the word for star in the Tatooine dialect but I think this might be an example of where there is an entirely separate word for star on Nal Hutta - 'vottrak', which would translate to 'of Vottri'

On Lukka, Leia, Ekkreth and Ar-Amu

So I talked a bit about Ekkreth in his name section but I also wanted to touch on the other gods who end up everywhere (there are those that end up throughout pretty much all Amavikka tradition, those that end up through all of the tradition on a specific planet, and then those (often prophets) which are region specific)

Lukka was not created by fialleril but by @/blue-sunshine-mauve-morning in the same Desert Storm series I linked above (I love that fanfic so much), and she states in her fic that Lukka is a Tatooine only kinda god

I like Lukka too much so...I disregarded that and made him, along with Leia, Ekkreth and Ar-Amu, one of the gods who ends up pretty much everywhere in the galaxy

The themes that they represent throughout the galaxy are fairly consistent to; Ar-Amu is the mother, the one that all the Amavikka return to one day; Ekkreth is the trickster, which no chain can hold, whatever shape it is; Leia is the dragon, the anger of slaves that comes to crush slavers; and Lukka is the storm, that is safe for Amavikka to pass through but that will destroy any who follow.

Lukka

On Tatooine, Lukka is closely linked to the seven winds - some say the winds are Lukka's children, and some say that the winds are even older than Lukka and are what came together to form him - the winds are quite a common thing throughout Amavikka communities, although sometimes it is four winds rather than seven

On Nal Hutta and other more watery worlds though, Lukka is often referred to as The Storm and the Flood, although again, which came first is debated as the biggest threat on Nal Hutta is the terrible rainstorms that cause the swamp to flood into inhabited places

It's quite difficult to defend against these floods too as the water is everywhere, so it affects Depur as much as it affects the Amavikka in terms of destruction of property

Leia

Also from Blue_Sunshine's story, Leia is referred to as the Nal Hutta dragonsnake which is a creature canon to Nal Hutta, and I love this idea

She serves much the same purpose on Tatooine as she does on Nal Hutta but instead of the desert, she haunts the swamps

Dancing on Nal Hutta

So I mentioned this earlier but I really wanted to go into the implications of dance on Nal Hutta

Like I said before, Nal Hutta is a pleasure world for the Hutts and their cronies so there are a lot of places where slaves are used for entertainment like dance, which is why Ru's story is so important here

Of course, Ru always danced for himself in the way this story was told - some areas of Nal Hutta will have Bakkru being a dancer for Depur initially, or will have stories of Ru (who has already lived and died and lived again) returning to Depur to dance for him and to help free dancers as he returned to free his grandmother

But although dance is quite intrinsically linked to Depur on Nal Hutta, it is also very holy, in a way it's not really in most other places - due to Ru's story, it's linked a lot to fire and freedom, and the dancers who know the Bakkru are often fundamental pieces of the Freedom Trail

Ru's Symbol would be something that is carved onto the equivalent of Japor snippets on Nal Hutta, and is often given to dancers or those who have been picked to be pleasure slaves (who are often synonymous with dancers) as a charm of protection and good luck

Te bakkruker a anu or, 'You will dance in fire' is quite a common phrase to use when saying goodbye to a loved one who is either sold off or dying - it is wishing them freedom, as Bakkru was freed

However, it should be noted, that they are not wishing their loved one to die - although Bakkru died, Ru leads a lot of figures later to dance in fire to be freed who do not die, and so it is the more general idea of freedom

Final Words

This post grew absolutely massive so I feel like a final words section is appropriate haha (this is why I didn't try to put it in the AO3 author's notes section)

Thank you for getting this far! If you're interested in any of my thoughts about Amatakka and the Amavikka on planets outside of Tatooine (and on Tatooine too - there's a reason I love all this lore so much and it's because it worked so beautifully with Tatooine) please do hit me up, I'd love to talk about it more!

(And I'm neither an expert on the language nor a conglanger, so I would love some help with the words I was trying to make, and on how to distinguish dialects lol)

[nyxi-pixie]

people who think more characters should have died in lotr are weak and will not survive the winter

[baelavelaryon]

@deadrlngers tagged me to take this "patron saint of..." quiz for my ocs. i chose my three most doomed children and i'm now unwell 💕

tagging: @aztarion @aezyrraeshh @brightaxe @ortanthaig @gallusneve and you!

hanusa fern - baldur's gate 3

patron saint of relics patron saint of remembering. patron saint of holding something close. patron saint of holding on for too long. for a saint, a relic is often a part of the body, kept for some physical memento of their holiness. they are all in your hands, now: does it feel like remembrance? does it feel sanctified? are the dust and blood as precious as they're supposed to be?

paige langford - the wayhaven chronicles

patron saint of horror you're the patron saint of the dawning moment of realization. the patron saint of comprehension, maybe. the patron saint of understanding. the patron saint of knowing exactly what's going to happen. of seeing clearly. of not being able to look away.

alex rothman - vampire the masquerade bloodlines

patron saint of martyrs the patron saint of those who died to be like you. maybe you died to be like them too: but at the end of it, you weren't like them. patron saint of tragedy. saint of saints. it's you who holds the hands of the holy dead, and you who has to answer: what do they do if they regretted it?

[foodlesoodlesdoodles]

my wrist hurts soooo fucking bad anyway I think I’ve worked on this long enough to justify not doing any more

[joshriku]

at any and all times i'm thinking of this