#bc like. I know some pieces of my trauma but something tells me that's not all

[hatake]

.

[raccoon-queer]

I am this close to going crazy kjfadlksj

[n33dlew0rk]

I cyclically go back to some of my old favourites bc I'm a proud ✨music slut✨ and I was thinking about Roy Khan when he joined Kamelot. Like, the kinda uncharacteristic voice timbre for the genre and the short hair made me think of Steve.

And I don't necessarily headcanon Eddie Munson as a metal elitist, but for the sake of this little worm, let's say he absolutely is one. The nasty type, even.

So wouldn't it be hella funny if mid-thirties lead guitarist of average famous trash metal band Corroded Coffin Eddie'd find himself at a festival and suddenly smitten with power metal vocalist Steve Harrington?

Ok so, stay with me:

Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys play some big festival in the early 2000s, not as headliners (I honestly can't see CC as that big, sorry), but still like on one of the late afternoon / early night slots. A plan they're pretty big fans of, it means they have a substantial crowd of fans and casual festival-goers listening to them, but they can get pretty buzzed and relaxed to enjoy the bigger names playing later afterwards. And they're all still in their mid-thirties so yk their lower backs hurt, sure, but they can still be menaces in the pit if they're motivated enough.

They do just that for a while, then around dinner time, someone's girlfriend (I'd like to think Jeff's bc I can totally see him not caring about genres at all) begs to go see this band she likes at one of the smaller stages. She's telling them that they just changed vocalist and this guy had to prove himself to the band by skydiving with them and that's so cool and she really wants to see them live please please please.

Eddie is not convinced, the name of the band doesn't sound familiar, but it's clearly fantasy inspired, and that leaves him with this nagging feeling that they'll end up to some obnoxiously cheesy act. He tries to divert the attention from himself and actually go eat something.

Manager and bff extraordinaire Chrissy Cunningham won't have it though, always careful with partners, family and significant others because she knows how the industry can turns artists into assholes. So she shoves all the boys towards the smaller stage, smiling wide and supportive of the girl who wanted to go there.

And wouldn't you look at that: the act IS, in fact, obnoxious and cheesy. The band has back up vocals that look more like a fucking choir. They have a keyboard that could probably replicate an entire orchestra, which means these guys are symphonic. Eddie shudders at the thought alone.

By no means the band has a big production, but they still have drape-like thingies stage-sides and candles and shit. A quick glance to the crowd has Eddie taking in so many men in leather pants and flowy-fucking-harmony-book-illustration-cover-vaguely-medieval shirts that will hunt him for a lifetime of nightmares.

Eddie groans as the band enters the stage and start playing right away. And yeah, there's no denying it anymore, it's clearly a power metal act- yep there it comes, the chirpy melodic riff and oh, oh yeah, melancholic keys and heartbreaking choir intro just joined the party. Eddie is actively glaring at Chrissy, but she just smiles and pats his back, shrugging apologetic.

And then.

AND THEN.

And then Eddie's future husband appears up there, in a puff of poorly distributed fake smoke, a too tight short sleeved black shirt, fairly normal black jeans with just a few straps on his juicy thighs, short and messy light brown hair and the sweetest boy-next-door smile.

This dorky motherfucker even dares to do a little bow to the audience.

This piece of cake with no tattoos whatsoever in sight and the attire of a very mild occasional I sometimes go to raves while vacationing in Ibiza because I have a very stable and probably boring white collar job and I need to decompress.

This absolute luscious chest forest bearer of a man struts to the barricade and starts singing with a tone so warm that it soothes half of Eddie's lifelong trauma and a lung capacity that could send at least two big tobacco companies bankrupt.

And for a minute there (or five, or ten, or whatever) Eddie kinda forgets why it was ever cringe to sing of doomed love, eternal devotion and, fucking, roses and flowers and passionate nights full of stars and promises and-

"Backstage pass" he starts shaking Chrissy's arm not taking his eyes off the charming vocalist.

Chrissy doesn't hear him right away, so she just cocks an eyebrow in a silent question, but Eddie keeps on staring at the stage like a man possessed and shouts louder "Get. Me. A. Backstage. Pass" and point a finger at Steve singing his heart out.

Chrissy snickers, not particularly surprised, and stands on her tip-toes to take Eddie's face in her hands, turning him to face her.

"Babes, you are an artist that performed at this festival", she lowers a hand to grab and wave in front of his eyes the artist pass attached at Eddie's neck.

It takes a few beats for him to gather enough brain power to understand, but as soon a as he does, he's dodging people left and right with a streak of mumbled "sorry man"s alternated with some more urgent "kindly fuck off"s to reach the front and find the nearest staff entry to flaunt his newly rediscovered access guarantee.

-

After the encore, an absolutely delicious sweat drenched Steve exists stage left and bumps directly in a very much stunned Eddie Munson with hearts in his eyes.

Steve mumbles a distracted "sorry" and starts walking around him to follow his bandmates to the green room when Eddie reaches for his wrist and nearly shouts "WAIT".

Steve turns around again, looks at his own wrist wrapped in pretty ringed long fingers, then focuses on the owner of said fingers. "Uh, yeah?"

Eddie's watching him like he's the Eighth World's Wonder and promptly answers with "Hi, my name is marry me, will you Eddie Munson?".

In the time it takes Steve to blink a few times and lightly blush before bursting out a genuine laugh, he realises two thing: one, the man in front of him (and still holding his wrist) is Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin and he his quite frankly hot; two, Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin spent a good five minutes of his own band's set earlier that night to climb on a tall amp and proceed with a ridiculous tirade against "all the melodic sappy panty twisting crap that's tainting true metal".

So Steve slowly cocks his head, still smiling big, gently pats his free hand on Eddie's cheek and smugly tells him "nah, wouldn't want to taint your", he tries to lower his voice to make it sound tougher, while vaguely gesturing towards him "true metal, hot stuff". He also winks at him, for good measure.

Eddie once again takes a moment to recover and totally bypasses Steve's dig blurting out a "you watched our set???", ears reddening at the tips, face shocked and mouth open.

Steve finally manages to free his hostage wrist and gives Eddie an incredulous, hopeless once over, starts laughing again and walks backstage, shaking his head.

When he notices Eddie's not following him (still stunned, not offended, to be clear) e looks over his shoulders "are you coming or not?".

Eddie unfreezes then and sprints to join him.

-

Eddie will proceed to follow Steve around for the remainder of the festival, walking on his knees and begging pretty please for a chance to explain the he actually meant other melodic sappy panty twisting crap, not Steve's.

-

The next Corroded Coffin album is kind of experimental, features Steve's vocals on one track, pisses off metal elitists worldwide and gains CC a headliner spot in the next festival line-up.

[dreamii-krybaby]

Behold my essay on why plp shouldn’t be sleeping on the ship involving Doll’s parents.

Ok ok but like- ISTG doll’s folks are driving me crazy HNNNGNGNFJF

(Btw watch of all if this get absolutely ripped to pieces by future canon)

Even we have very few info of Yeva, in the pictures she has appeared she looks distressed, paranoid, anxious and doesn’t seem to have the same social skills and relaxed vibes as Nori. She gives me the impression she was recluse, shy even or standoff-ish

For all we know she could have a drastic change of character after the core collapse.

What am saying girlie definitely developed all kinds of fucked up issues.

ok but like the fact that Yeva decided to stay and live with and make a family with her parter got me thinking

Like girl witnessed and lived THE HORRORS and if my theory is correct, she ALSO got momentarily possessed by the AS causing the Site-48 “incident”. (Which I theorize she created a massive black hole on the site similar to how the AS controlling Uzi’s hand did it on the elevator in EP6)

Her first meeting with her-now-husband was literally traumatizing and was probably very awkward (group photo after the core colapse in EP4)

They saw something, and it wasn’t good news.

But after that, like- how did it go down?

Bc I speculate Yeva’s husband knows a bit more surrounding the AS:

-like I mentioned before, his overall expression in the group picture shown in EP4 post core collapse alongside Yeva’s expression seems to imply they saw or witnessed smth horrifying around the camp 98.7 which left them scarred

-the fact that Tessa’s quote in EP6 implies the idea that he is also infected (Either he may be a runaway experiment or he wasn’t necessarily involved with CFL and somehow had the AS, or maybe the quote is a red herring)

“She reckons the humans did something to her folks down there, gave them a sickness she inherited”.

Like, the idea that her partner saw past the horrors, the AS, the shady things Yeva was involved, and just- decided to be a couple, and saw yeva…as an individual, not a danger, not a monster, not a sinner, not some lab rat, just, her, a sentient being capable of feeling just as he is.

He saw her as “Yeva”, not as “048”, not someone whose just her ��sickness”

Like the fact that YEVA was also to look past her traumas and her knowledge of the danger of the AS to live and become her partner’s wife

Just the idea of them going, “you know what? I want you as my partner, live in a place that we can call home, and raise our own kid”

Its just- *screams*

also Yeva would actually be introduced to the concept of home, not a house, a home

SHE FINALLY HAD SOMETHING SHE COULD CALL A HOME

AND SHE ACTUALLY HAD A PERSON WHERE SHE COULD PROBABLY FEEL COMFORTABLE AROUND (we don’t know exactly how Nori’s and Yeva’s relationship went, they could have gone through drastic changes)

SHE COULD FINALLY LIVE, NOT SURVIVE, SHE COULD JUST- LIVE, NOT HAVING FIGHT FOR HER SURVIVAL

CAN YOU JUST IMAGINE THE FACT THESE TWO DESPITE THE HORRORS, DESPITE THE AS, DESPITE EVERYTHING THEY FELL FOR EACHOTHER AND THEY GOT TO THE POINT THEY WANTED A KID?!?!? BE A FAMILY?!?!? HAVE A PLACE TO LIVE TOGETHER!??!?

AND WHEN THEY WENT OUTSIDE BEFORE DEATH THEY DECIDED TO GO TOGETHER!?!?!? (If my theory that they died outside is true)

THEY PROBABLY KNEW THE DANGER BUT THEY WENT “we’re gonna do this together” THEY COULD HAVE LOWER THE CHANCES OF RISK AND DEAL WITH THE UPCOMING FUCKED UP SHIT ON THEIR OWN BUT THEY WENT TOGETHER

LOOK ME IN THE EYES AND TELL ME THAT ISNT LOVE

(Imagine if it’s later revealed that they are actually a super fucked up couple- or just created a family for any other reason but wasn’t out of sentiment)

Me when I realize my favorite ship that is actually canon has barely any content or fan-content:

I want to claim myself as CEO of this goddam ship if it blows up in the fandom after future canon info.

Bc bro I shipped them when there wasn’t a single edit of them and when there was like 1 or maybe even 0 fanfics of them on AO3. Bro there wasn’t even fanart of them.

Bro I have doodles of them, created AU’s involving them, I have made moodboards, stimboards, have made HCs of them, made fan desings and plan to make fanart of them.

I am so normal about them I swear-

[rikas-things]

🗣️Rika's Yappfest Hours🗣️

⚠️¡¡WARNING!!⚠️

This post contains light spoilers for Twisted Wonderland Book 7! Read at your OWN RISK

💚💜💚💜💚💜💚💜💚💜💚💜💚

Hello, fellow Twist fans! I just wanted to bring something like this into question since it's been on my mind for a minute since the latest chapter update for Book 7.

I've been seeing a lot of unrest in regards to the pacing and/or additions of the character cards and whatnot and I thought I might want to add my two cents to this.

The biggest questions are what if the addition of the other dream segments were just there for padding/card development? And what if Book 7 ends up with a rushed/unsatisfied ending where Malleus or Idia don't get any spotlight?

For the first question, I think most of the unrest mainly comes from waiting for the next releases of each part. As a long time manga fan, I know the full pain of having to wait for your favorite series to get new content (cries in One Munch Man ꈨຶ⁠ ⁠˙̫̮⁠ ⁠ꈨຶ) and I'm sure you guys know that whole song and dance too.

A LOT of the comedic stuff can be annoying when all you wanna do is get to the juicy ✨drama✨ but I'm willing to bet had the part been done all the way through like the other books, they wouldn't have stung as hard.

Upon replaying certain parts (and fights) the pacing didn't come off as painful and I'm sure, again, once the part is over, we'll all have a great memory of it.

And as for the later, I think only time will tell. I think, with the wait time of each piece being the way that it is, that I doubt Yana and the writers would willingly put subpar chapters given how they want to tie everything together, themes and such included.

Asides

This is even more of my ramblings, things that aren't necessaryly related to the main talking points above. Can't you tell I wrote this late at night? 🤪

*Speaking of the dream segments, I remember there was some mention of how stuff like Savanaclaw Rook and Kalim's school could have been vignettes and on hindsight I'm just wondering...how could these be vignettes?

I only say this bc of the fact that the dream segments are supposed to be desires/thoughts of the people in the dreams, and I doubt the Twist team would want to make an entire vignette on something that was essentially a flashback.

They probably wanted to answer the burning questions of what Rook looked like before he transferred, or like, in Kalim's case, they wanted to tie up any loose ends that were not addressed in the earlier chapters.

Let's be honest: aside from Riddle and Idia, everyone's (the Overblotters) trauma didn't really get handled with a lot of the seriousness it should have been- or at least, there was a lot swept under the rug, and I think the dream segments could be a means to really explore the inner mechanics of the characters as well as how they plan to handle that trauma from here moving forward.

*"How was Silver able to keep using his magic without overblotting or building up blot?" ...I actually have a theory about this. Remember what Lilia said while confronting Malleus?

This would explain why many others can use their magic so freely, Silver included. Bc the dream world makes it so that the bodies of the hosts aren't affected apart from being put to sleep. I mean, it would be pretty lame if you're in a dream world and you could only do so much due to your magic not being the best, right? But what do you think?

That's all I gotta say for now. Think I'm wrong? Or maybe you agree with me? I'd like to discuss it. Thank you and bye bye!

[taevbears]

Magic Shop - 12

Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Namjoon focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 11.2k ⤑ warnings: lol idk what it is about namjoon that makes me so feral but explicit & implied smut (penetrative, 34+35, face-riding, daddy kink), description of body horror, mentions of death & past traumas, pet names (baby). ⤑ note: lmao bc the way i've been working on this chapter since the end of last year, and it's FINALLY being posted. i've been in this weird slump with my writing, so i hope that this is ok lol. enjoy, and i'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter! :)

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

“You’re so annoying,” you complain, shutting the door behind you. Your next lecture is in half an hour, but Hoseok will be looking for you soon.

The two of you have about fifteen minutes.

“I’ll be fast,” Namjoon promises, already pulling off his top. His roommates aren’t in. They’re most-likely hanging out in the common rooms and won’t be back for a while.

It’s just you and him.

And the paramour secret that hangs between you two.

Your back is pressed against the door as you eye him. In just his slacks, he looks like sin. Tall and muscular, sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders and long arms. Blessed with the perfect body proportions. The hunger in your eyes grows the longer you stare.

“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”

It’s what you tell him every time, but you lift your skirt. His gaze automatically locks onto your thighs as he unbuckles his belt, and his cock twitches with interest when he catches a peek of your panties.

His voice is husky when he asks, “Should we stop?”

He already knows the answer. It’s the same as it always is.

“No,” you reply, tilting your head slightly. A daring gesture as a coy smile dances on your lips. You slowly loosen the buttons of your blouse one by one. His gaze lifts to your face as you whisper, “Want you, daddy.”

Namjoon wants you more.

Without another second to waste, his long strides close the distance between you two. Strong hands impatiently yanking at the fabric of your clothes as he leans down to kiss you at last.

Namjoon wakes, sticky with sweat.

The bed he’s on is bigger and more comfortable than the cheap bunk at his dorm. The white duvet – kicked to the floor at some point of the night – is thick and weighted; a godsend compared to the thin, itchy blanket he was given when assigned to his room. The bedroom itself, curated to his taste, is woodsy, minimalistic, and bold: favorite art pieces hang on the walls and decorate the space that reflect his current moods, a private library with books that frequently changes to new titles whenever he finishes reading some, and bonsais that he’s been taking care of are starting to bloom flowers.

It takes him a moment, but he realizes he’s no longer a student nor an enchanter at Blackstone Castle.

A sigh falls from his lips as he runs his fingers through his damp hair.

Another dream about you.

He’s been doing that a lot lately. Dreaming of you.

You, sneaking into his bed after lights out and everyone else is asleep. You, taking his hand and leading him into secluded places between classes and when things at the shop are slow. You, climbing over his lap with your hands steady on his shoulders as he holds your waist, loving the way you look on top of him.

Once upon a time, when all this initially started, Namjoon thought it’d never go beyond a physical affair. The two of you were clearly attracted to each other. When the stress of exams, a looming Harrowing, and the competitive streaks between you two became too much, you often sought each other out.

But at some point, Namjoon realized it was starting to mean something more to him.

At some point, Namjoon realized it was because he was falling in love with you.

And somehow, at some point, you started to fall in love with him too.

You, dedicated and hardworking, quiet and serious with your studies, and burning with a hunger for knowledge and an eagerness to test your limits. You, also kind and caring, loyal and protective of the people you love deeply, and who’ve dreamed of opening this shop of comfort to help people. You, who carries the warmth and radiance of the sun, beautiful in the way that starlights compliment the night sky, and yet look to the shadows of the moon at him.

Love to Namjoon is still… a new concept. 

There are days where he isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing or what the future holds with you. There are days where he questions why you even love someone like him when the others could be much better lovers.

It’s like fire. Pretty to admire, comforting to feel its warmth; a guidance of light through a dark and harsh world, but never to touch. Never his to claim and hold as the shadows of loneliness and insecurity grow around him. Love burns as fire does, leaving nothing but scalding embers and ash as its remains.

He loved his family, but they had easily given him up after he awakened his magical powers, even though he desperately ran away from towers and fortresses to beg for their forgiveness. He loved his hometown in the countryside, but he still remembers the look of hatred on the villagers’ faces once they found out what he was and deemed him a monster. He loved his friend, Ignis, and his untimely death by the cruel hands of hunters is still a burden Namjoon is forced to carry with him.

But there are days where love just feels… nice. 

Where, in the early morning, when he’s getting ready for a run by the river, you’d stumble down the stairs shortly after him with your hair still a bit messy from sleep and your eyes barely open, and simply ask if he wants coffee and breakfast with you now or when he comes back. 

Where, more often than he’d like to admit, a spell backfires and instead of changing the temperature of the shop, he ends up casting a sleeping spell on all the patrons, and you end up fighting your drowsiness to set things right, never once berating him or making him feel bad for any harmless accidents.

Where, after a long day, the two of you wind down together, sprawled in his library nook downstairs, not really talking to each other – too caught up in your own readings for conversation – but finding each other’s presence comforting nonetheless as he uses your thighs as a pillow while you absently run your fingers through his hair, or when you’d prop your legs over his lap as he gently massages your calves.

If Namjoon could write a million poems to describe how he feels around you, it still wouldn’t be enough. With you, he feels safe. With you, he feels comfortable. With you, he feels accepted, despite all his flaws and mistakes.

Namjoon loves you more than anyone he’s ever loved before. From the days you two were just students in Blackstone Castle to now. He loves the shop, the family it has brought together, the freedom of being himself – an ordinary man who likes books, nature, and art – without being condemned for his affinity to magic.

But like his family, his hometown, and even Ignis, he’s afraid that one day, you, the home you built with him, and the family you both found will all disappear.

And it’ll be his fault.

With a deep, frustrated sigh, Namjoon forces himself to sit up.

Before, he used to dream a lot about all the things he’s loved and lost. He recalls every detail of it: the day of his awakening, the fires that destroyed his home, how often he ran away to apologize to his parents, the screams of agony when he had to leave his only friend behind.

Now, Namjoon dreams about you.

You’re everything he loves.

You’re everything he’s afraid to lose.

“I’m heading out now!” Seokjin calls out, putting on his shoes by the front door.

“Okay, be safe,” you tell him, coming to the entryway to see him out. Seokjin promises he will and pulls you in for a kiss.

Behind the counter, Namjoon finds himself looking away.

Recently, Seokjin started his own guild with his friends from the Freelancers. After a mission involving mages went awry, they left their old organizations and started calling themselves the Oathkeepers. As a newly-established guild, most of their work comes from notices placed on the town’s community board, or word-by-mouth from people who’ve hired them before.

Things have slowed down a lot compared to how busy they were in their former guild. Seokjin was hardly home, and when he was, he was exhausted. While it’s nice to see the former warden around the shop these days, Namjoon can tell that the thrill of excitement and adventures are sorely missed, as well as the amount of coins he was able to collect after each successful quest they’ve completed.

“Can we go too?” Jungkook asks, already slipping a rucksack over his shoulder.

“Please,” Taehyung tacks on, honey-colored eyes wide and pleading as he stares directly at you.

Your lips part with an almost-spoken answer until you catch yourself, and helplessly look toward Namjoon with a face that’s just about ready to give anything the raven familiar desires.

Namjoon sighs. He can’t blame the two youngest for wanting to go with Seokjin. Whatever adventures he has planned today are far more appealing than being stuck in the shop all day. Even though, at the shop, Taehyung normally follows Hoseok around, and Jungkook quietly admires Namjoon doing mundane work.

“Sure, why not?” He decides with a shrug. “Be careful and listen to Jin-hyung, though.”

“Yes!” Taehyung and Jungkook cheer and high-five each other.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go. The others are waiting for us,” Seokjin urges before turning to you again. He kisses you one more time and adds, “We’ll be back before dinner.”

“Bye, hyung. Bye, kids. Look out for each other,” Hoseok reminds them, standing beside you with Yoongi in his arms. The black cat looks comfortable in Hoseok’s hold, pointed ears twitching as he turns his head to look at the others.

“We will,” Jungkook promises, nearly bouncing on his feet with excitement. A sheepish smile spreads on his face as he caresses your cheek and kisses you sweetly. “We’ll be going now.”

“Don’t miss us too much, darling,” Taehyung teases when it’s his turn, tilting your chin up and diving in for a goodbye kiss as well. He smirks at the flustered look on your face as Seokjin calls for them to hurry up.

As you watch them leave, Hoseok nudges you. There’s a knowing look on his face when he comments, “You look tempted to join them.”

“It does seem fun,” you acknowledge with a small sigh. Seokjin makes his quests sound so thrilling and perilous, even if you know he exaggerates a bit just to impress you most of the time.

Namjoon frowns and speaks up. “I’d rather you stay here.”

You turn to him, a bit defiant, and place a hand on your hip. “Why? Think I can’t do it?”

“Ooh,” Hoseok utters with a smile. He and Yoongi look between you and Namjoon with mild amusement.

“It’s not that,” he retorts, nearly rolling his eyes. He knows that you’re perfectly capable of becoming an adventurer and would be a great asset to the Oathkeepers. “What Jin-hyung and the others do is dangerous.”

“I can handle danger,” you tell him. Hoseok nods his head and agrees you can. Without looking away from Namjoon, you give your best friend a high-five.

“Here is safe,” Namjoon argues with a finality in his voice. He frowns when he looks at you. “And I don’t want you to get hurt.”

It occurs to you and Hoseok that Namjoon is being very serious.

“Namjoon, we’re just kidding,” Hoseok quickly assures him. “Neither of us are going anywhere. The shop is our responsibility.”

“Yeah. And even if I did go on a quest with Jin, you don’t need to worry about me.” You walk up to Namjoon and take his hands in yours. “I can handle myself, Namjoon.”

Words you’ve told him repeatedly, even before the night of your Harrowing back in Blackstone Castle. In the library where he’d always run into you.

“I know you can, baby.” He brings your hands to his lips and kisses your knuckles. “If it comes to that, just promise you’ll come back to me, okay?”

Before Jungkook was turned into a toad by an evil witch, he was an adventurer. He joined a guild with some same-age friends, traveled far from home, saw rare sights, fought challenging beasts, and visited beautiful places. Excitement and wonder were at every corner.

But this…

“Your grand task today,” Seokjin informs as he unceremoniously hands a stack of fliers each to Taehyung and Jungkook, “is to pass these out and put them around town.”

This isn’t it.

Jungkook glances down at the posters. Since the Oathkeepers are still new, Seokjin and the others have been trying to promote their guild and ask around for work. The neat calligraphy and the print of their symbol is a way to do just that.

“Actually, I think Hoseok-hyung might need my help at the shop after all,” Taehyung tries to back out. This isn’t the kind of quest he had in mind either.

“You’re already here. Just help out a little,” Seokjin pushes, holding out a flier from his own stack and handing it to someone who curiously grabs it. “This will help attract people to our shop too.”

Taehyung pouts, but relents. “Fine. But I want to go on a real adventure next time.”

“Hyung, I think I can finish my stack faster than you,” Jungkook suddenly challenges. 

Taehyung’s golden eyes light up with a competitive streak. “You’re on.”

“Wait,” Seokjin begins, suddenly feeling left out. He starts to shove his fliers in the arms of people passing by. “This isn’t a contest. You guys…”

Without waiting for Seokjin to finish, both Taehyung and Jungkook dart off to opposite directions. His hands work quickly as he slides the fliers under doors, sticks them on the walls, and hands them out to whoever he sees.

“Please come to our shop,” Jungkook says, handing one of the last ones to a guy in a cloak. Most of the people he had passed them to merely glance at them without another thought, but this stranger stops and reads through it.

“Kim Seokjin?” he reads out loud, as if the name is familiar to him.

Jungkook pauses and looks at the mysterious stranger. The cloak covers most of his face and body, but he meets his eyes with a look of curiosity. With a tilt of his head, Jungkook asks, “You know my hyung?”

The stranger nods. “Hey kid. Do you happen to know a guy named Kim Namjoon?”

When Seokjin and the others return to the shop, they aren’t alone.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice says as he steps inside. He pulls down the hood of his cloak, revealing his handsome face. “I knew you’d be together, but I never thought I’d find you all here.”

“Jackson?!” Namjoon’s mouth drops, knocking over the chair he was sitting on as he rushes to greet his friend. The two clasps hands and pull each other into a quick hug.

Hoseok laughs in disbelief, welcoming him as well in a similar manner. “Hey, man! It’s good to see you!”

“Likewise,” Jackson replies with a big smile. He looks around the shop, in awe as he takes it in all. “So, this is where you guys have been hiding.”

The walls are painted bright, vivid colors. There’s a mix-mash of furniture, from old antiques and oddities to more modern pieces. The cozy entrance where you all stand divides the parlor and the tavern, and upstairs are the private rooms of the residents.

Perhaps to regular humans, it’s just a quirky shop. But for a mage like Jackson, he can feel the magical energy: the warmth of it on his fingertips, the whimsical lightness that eases his worries away, the safety from the protection spells cast in every room.

A kind of place that’s easy to overlook, yet brings in a strange sense of comfort that he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“Like it?” you ask with a bright smile, shoulders rising with pride. “This is our home.”

“It’s incredible,” he tells you, thoroughly impressed. His voice softens as he adds, “I didn’t think I’d ever run into a place like this.”

“Who is he, babe?” Jimin asks you, curious of the newcomer. Taehyung and Jungkook share the same wonder, coming to stand next to you and Yoongi. All four of them are new faces to Jackson, even though he had already met Yoongi in his cat form.

“He’s a friend,” you explain as Jackson politely introduces himself to them. “We all went to the same school.”

Some time has passed since you’ve all escaped Blackstone Castle and found your place in this town. A lot of things have changed since you last saw Jackson as well. After that night, you haven’t seen or heard from any of the other mages.

Until now.

Jackson stands before you all, travel-worn and exhausted. His face is thinner and more sunken. Dark circles are beneath his tired eyes, as if he hadn’t properly slept in days. There’s a scar on his cheek that hadn’t been there before.

“We ran into him in town,” Seokjin informs, coming to greet you with a quick kiss. Jackson arches an eyebrow when he sees a former warden kiss a mage. “He said he needs to talk to Namjoon.”

“Me?” the man in question asks, surprised.

“That’s right. Although…” Jackson trails off as he turns his attention to you and Hoseok. “Maybe this is something you guys could help with too.”

You and Hoseok exchange glances with each other. Then, curiously, you ask, “What do you mean?”

But Jackson hesitates. His eyes flicker to the others, suggesting that the news he’s about to share must be spoken in private. That its details require the use of magic, and Jackson doesn’t know who among your group already knows the truth about you, Hoseok, and Namjoon.

“Have you eaten yet, Jackson?” Hoseok suddenly asks, easing into a bright smile. “Stay for a while. We have a lot to catch up on.”

It feels like old times.

Jackson and Namjoon share a drink. Their glasses clink together before they chug down the golden liquor.

Hoseok’s loud laughter is carried throughout the room, more amused by Yoongi’s reaction to Seokjin’s joke than the punchline itself. Despite that, Seokjin attempts to make another. His face burns red from the tips of his ears down to his neck as he desperately tries to refrain from laughing at his own joke. And when he fails at the delivery, he smacks Yoongi in the arm as if it’s his fault. Hoseok, somehow, laughs even harder.

Jimin pours another shot, cheeks flushed a rosy pink and barely able to see straight. The clear liquor misses the glass entirely and spills mostly on the table. Some of it drips to Jungkook’s pants, who barely registers it. Instead, his round eyes are locked on you, lovestruck as he watches you and Taehyung drunkenly slow dance together.

Taehyung spins you beneath his arm and catches you when you stumble forward. The both of you are clinging onto each other’s arms, in fits of giggles as he presses his forehead against yours. It’s like no one else is in the room except you two. Not even any of your other lovers, who seamlessly take turns drinking with you and passing you around from one to another throughout the night.

Seeing everyone around him relaxed and having fun reminds Namjoon of the parties back at Blackstone Castle. It isn’t unusual for apprentices to sneak away at night to hook up, drink with friends, and celebrate small achievements and occasions. With the wardens constantly watching them, the heavy burdens of exams and Harrowings on their shoulders, and a strict system followed by the staff to keep magic restricted, it’s sometimes the only way the students could let loose.

Jackson was fond of going to these parties. He’d go to as many as he could, and made lots of friends with his outgoing and funny personality. Your old roommates were too, and they’d drag you along with the promise of Hoseok attending a party as well. And Namjoon – who’d patiently wait and catch your eye when you’re alone – would sneak you out before anyone would notice you’re both gone.

“I knew she’d end up with you or Hoseok,” Jackson comments, drawing Namjoon out of his thoughts. They watch as you end your dance with Taehyung with a curtsy before he guides you to Hoseok, who easily gathers you in his arms. “But it looks like she got both of you and more.”

“She’s our girl,” Namjoon agrees with a fond smile. 

Namjoon used to be a little jealous of Hoseok. After all, Hoseok loved you first. He still loves you now. 

But when you feel Namjoon’s gaze on you from across the room, you meet his eyes and smile. With the same sincerity you had back then, when you had first said those words to him during your birthday, you mouth the words, “I love you.”

It’s not words you often say to each other – even though you clearly do, and he loves you just the same – but it still takes his breath every time. You love him. Someone as precious and beautiful as you chooses to love a guy like him.

“Who would’ve thought?” Jackson muses, sipping on his drink.

It feels like old times, but things have changed. 

Namjoon certainly has. Without the vigilant gaze of the wardens and the suffocating confinements of the fortresses, he is a free man in this town. He can run along the river every morning, read books beneath the shade of a tree at the park, and go out with you and the other guys when the shop is closed. No one knows that he’s a mage here; no one looks at him like an abomination or something Wicked.

Here, he is just Namjoon. And as himself, he’s learned to enjoy his life a bit more. He’s learned to cherish those he holds so dearly, and savor those precious moments with gratitude. He’s learned to love, even when sometimes, he wonders if he deserves it.

For Jackson, however, his experiences after Blackstone are entirely different.

Since that night, he’s been on the run. He barely had time to grieve and process what had happened for a while, running before the nightmares caught up to him. He never stays in a town too long, never reveals too much about what he is or where he came from. In Blackstone, the threats were contained within the castle: power-hungry wardens, missued spells, Harrowings, and the nightmarish realm of the Veil. Out here, anything could happen. Anyone could become a potential threat.

“You’re always welcome to stay here, Jackson,” Namjoon offers after a few more drinks, just as Taehyung and Jungkook help carry a drunk Jimin upstairs into the spare bedroom. He grimaces, unable to take back what he said.

The eighth room doesn’t belong to Jackson anyway.

“I appreciate it, but it looks like you have a full house,” Jackson replies as he looks around the shop again. 

Everyone seemed to have passed their limit. Hoseok is zoning out, sitting quietly with a blank expression on his face. Yoongi was the opposite, cheering loudly and running around when he won a card game you were all playing, but now his energy has died down as he patiently waits for you to go to bed with him. Seokjin is sober enough to clean up, putting away the empty bottles and picking up the cards that were thrown on the floor. Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook have come back down after they took Jimin upstairs, so they must have fallen asleep as well. No one is paying attention to them.

Now is as good a time as any to reveal why he’s here.

“What’s that?” Namjoon asks, seeing Jackson pull out a couple fliers. One of them is one he received from Jungkook earlier that day. The other one has a bit more wear and tear, creases showing that it’s been folded and re-opened over and over.

“I think I might have a job you and your friends would be interested in,” he tells him, showing the flier that the Oathkeepers were passing out. “I ran into a couple mages you guys helped out a few towns over. It’s rare to run into others like us, let alone a group of mages and humans who are willing to help each other out. When they described you guys, I had a feeling I knew exactly who they were talking about. Turns out, I was right.”

Namjoon remembers them. Seokjin’s former guild wanted to bring in mages to the frontlines of their quests, but at the expense of abusive power and enslavement to control them. It was a controversial stance that eventually divided the guild and led to Seokjin and his friends separating from them altogether after all of you helped the captured mages escape.

“That’s why you were looking for me?” Namjoon asks, remembering Seokjin had mentioned that Jackson wanted to speak with him.

“I was looking for everybody. You. Hoseok. Your girl. My old roommates. Any of our old friends,” he lists with a frown. It doesn’t seem like he had much luck finding anyone else. Jackson then pushes the second paper – the worn and torn one – toward him. “While looking around, I found this.”

Without reading it, Namjoon asks, “What is it?”

“It’s the job,” Jackson reminds him, carefully watching as Namjoon picks it up and unfolds the paper.

“Help wanted,” Namjoon reads out loud. “Every night, the undead wakes from their eternal slumber and attacks our small village. No one knows why or where they are coming from, but our farmers suspect a necromancer is to blame.”

Necromancy?

Magic, as beautiful and wonderful as it could be, is also dangerous and deadly. Certain magic is forbidden for a reason. Messing with the afterlife is considered one of them.

“Keep going,” Jackson urges.

“Each night, our numbers dwindle as the undead grows. Soon, there will be nothing left of our village,” Namjoon continues with a frown. “In a desperate plea for help, we are sending our notices far and wide in hopes to find anyone brave enough to take this urgent quest. We will do whatever it takes to save our home. Please, to anyone who finds this, help us.”

Namjoon doesn’t get it. Dark magic is explicitly banned from the fortresses. It’s why they’ve been built and why they contain mages in the first place. Jackson knows this. He’s lived in these towers too.

“Check the location,” Jackson quietly presses before Namjoon could turn it down.

He does, glancing down at the paper again. He nearly drops it when he sees where the quest is coming from.

Hawthorn Village. His hometown.

He’s tried and failed several times to return to that place ever since he was sent away on the day of his magical awakening. Ignis died helping Namjoon on his last attempt to return, and Namjoon swore he would never try again after that haunting day.

Suddenly, it feels like it’s hard for him to breathe. To swallow. He blinks back the sting of tears as he looks at his friend. “That place…”

“We can come with you,” Seokjin suddenly offers, holding some empty bottles and glasses that he is taking to the sink. “The Oathkeepers and I. We have the documents that prove that we’re a legitimate guild.”

No one would question them on the road. Some would be more willing to help and provide information when they see they’re a group on a mission and not just ordinary travelers as well.

“What do you say?” Jackson asks, sounding hopeful. “I won’t be able to do this on my own. They’ll need us, Namjoon. We can help them. All of us can.”

And Namjoon realizes why Jackson mentioned you and Hoseok could help with this quest as well.

His gaze immediately turns to you.

Your arm is around Yoongi’s neck as he helps you stand. You look flushed, cheeks hot and limbs loose from the alcohol. A bashful giggle escapes your lips at your own predicament, and how you feel like a fawn learning to walk as you use Yoongi to keep your balance. And you only laugh harder when you catch a glimpse of Hoseok’s face as he blinks slowly at you, and his mouth lifts into a slight chuckle of his own.

After everything you’ve all been through at Blackstone Castle, Namjoon swore he’d do whatever it takes to protect you.

“She’ll get hurt,” Namjoon points out.

“She’s the best spellcaster we know,” Jackson counters. “And Hoseok makes the best potions. You all have familiars too, and a formidable guild that will have our backs if anyone questions what we are.”

“He has a point, Namjoon,” Seokjin agrees, but in a way that lets Namjoon know that it’s his call. Whatever he decides, Seokjin will support him.

“Jin, last time I… Last time…”

“It’ll be different this time,” he assures him with a small but confident smile. “You’ll have us.”

“What do you say, Namjoon?” Jackson asks, pouring both of them another glass.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath. He looks over at you again: your pretty smile and the way it reaches your eyes, how the sound of your laughter reminds Namjoon of how precious you are to him, and the endeared look from those around you as how affectionate you are when you’re tipsy.

It feels like old times, as Namjoon admires you from afar.

He knows you. Even if he had no connection to the village, you’d still want to help. Because that’s the kind of person you are. Namjoon is the same way.

But things have changed. Namjoon has changed.

Before, he would stop at nothing to return to his village and see his parents again. Before, he would take on this mission in a heartbeat, no matter what the risks are. But now, doubt starts to fill his mind.

This could be dangerous. Impossible, even.

But this is his home. His family might still be there. He has to try. Right?

“Okay,” he decides as he takes the glass Jackson pours him. The sudden burden in his heart makes it harder to swallow this time.

Namjoon can’t sleep.

He lies back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His mind restlessly jumps back and forth between a few things.

First, his hometown. What will it be like, stepping into that place for the first time in years? How much has changed? Would anyone recognize him? Are his parents still there? Are they doing well?

Then, there’s the necromancer. He knows very little about necromancy, and he doubts that you and Hoseok know more than he does about it. Where did they come from? What is their goal? What do they want with his hometown? Would he and the others be able to face them? Or are they dealing with something far too dark and dangerous?

Then, of course, there’s you and the others. He knows you’ve braved dangers before: in your Harrowing, the night Blackstone Castle fell, and even recently when you’ve helped Seokjin against his former guild. He knows you and the others are perfectly capable and skilled individuals, and as a team, you’d be an unstoppable force.

But Namjoon still worries. His mind starts to think about the worst. What if something goes wrong? What if you get hurt? He’ll have no one to blame but himself. Maybe this is too risky. Maybe he should tell Jackson and Seokjin he’s changed his mind.

The door to his room slowly opens. “Joon?”

Startled, he shoots up and faces the door. His heart calms a bit when he sees that it’s you. “What is it, baby?”

You shut the door behind you.

It’s just you and Namjoon. Like old times.

“I just wanted to check on you,” you tell him, sobered up after drinking earlier. Even in your drunken stupor, you can tell something has been bothering him. Your voice is a gentle whisper, calm and comforting. It’s a stark difference to the whirlwind of thoughts storming in his head.

He reaches out to you as you step closer, until you’re right in front of him.

When he dreams of you, he always wakes up just when he has you in his grasp. Just when you’re his to hold. As your fingers delicately wrap around his, he’s almost afraid he’d wake up and you’d be gone again.

“I could be better,” he replies to you honestly. His gaze is still on your hand as his thumb brushes against the top of your knuckles. “I have a lot in my mind.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, tilting your head.

He shakes his head. “Not tonight.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

He meant to ask you to stay. To let him hold you for tonight, and keep the fears of potentially losing you at bay as you fall asleep in his arms.

“I love you.”

The words that fall from his lips instead surprises both of you. He sees your eyes widen, the way you catch your breath, the uncertainty on your face, as if you aren’t sure if you heard him right.

But his hand tightens around yours, pulling you closer.

Namjoon loves you. Truly, he does. He sees you in his dreams all the time.

Everything he loves. Everything he’s afraid to lose.

You’re on his bed now, your eyes falling on his broad shoulders and his bare chest. There’s a look in your eyes that he’s become all too familiar with.

He doesn’t know who makes the first move, but suddenly, you’re all over each other. He kisses you with everything he’s got, meeting your lips and tongue with his, as if tonight could be his last time to hold you, to make you his. He grunts when he feels you gently tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. And you whimper when his hand yanks the white fabric of your nightdress, thumb brushing against your nipple.

The second you’re out of your torn clothes, his mouth latches onto your other breast, tongue flicking the hardened bud. “F-Fuck, Joon.”

“Are you going to be good for me, baby?”

Your breath hitches as his fingers slowly trail down your abdomen and slot between your legs. You close your eyes, rolling your hips slightly as his long fingers slip past your wet folds. “Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl,” Namjoon praises, his voice so deep and low, it makes you shiver. “Come here. Wanna taste you.”

You obey, following his lead as he lies back on the bed again and makes himself situated. He guides you over him, and you’re careful of your weight on him as he holds your waist and thighs and eats you out.

He feels your muscles tensing and your hips bucking as the pleasure builds. But he keeps a tight hold on you, preventing you from squirming away as he works you open with his tongue. Your grip tightens around the headboard and your other hand tugs on his hair as his thumb rubs against your clit. “J-Joon, I’m s-so—”

Even without your warning, he knows. He gets you there, drinking you in, reaping his spoils as you start to come down from your high.

But it isn’t over.

Once his grip around you loosens, you turn over. Namjoon props himself up slightly, watching what you’re doing and groaning when he feels your hands and mouth on his cock. His fingers easily tease your entrance before slipping into you again, stretching you out, feeling you clench around them, before he decides to pull your hips closer for another taste.

It starts to feel like a competition. Like you’re trying to get him off first before he makes you climax a second time.

But Namjoon knows your body well, and you feel his tongue and fingers prodding, teasing, and hitting your sweet spot mercilessly. Your muffled moans with your mouth against him are driving him insane, and he barely edges you out – your legs quivering slightly from the intense pleasure – before he shoots his release in your throat.

Namjoon catches his breath as you roll onto your back, breathing just as hard as he is. He sits up to look at you, his mouth and chest wet with your arousal, and as you peer up at him with lust-filled eyes, he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

More than what he deserves.

He caresses your thigh and smiles gently. “Tired?”

You scoff, breathless, but stubborn. As if admitting that you are means defeat. “I’m just getting started.”

Namjoon chuckles and then grabs your leg, pulling you closer. He aligns himself to enter you, moving slowly so you could adjust to his size. Your back arches slightly, face contorting at the pressure as your nails dig into his arms. You feel so good to him, he could never get enough of you.

He leans over to kiss you once he’s fully inside of you. “That’s my girl.”

“I’ll always be your girl,” you tell him softly, kissing his cheek.

Namjoon laughs, almost bashful with the way his heart flutters at that moment. You smile back at him, wrapping your arm around his neck as he begins to move.

His lips are on your throat, hands squeezing your breast and hips, whispered curses and grunts against your skin. It feels like wildfire every time. Heated, passionate, all consuming, like every touch and kiss sears his skin. Like every little moan and whine he hears from you compels him to make that fire grow. Then, only in the afterglow, he realizes it’s not the embers and ashes that remain. It’s warmth that fills his chest when he’s around you. It’s light that makes his heart glow with love. And he wants nothing more but to bask in it.

When he dreams, it’s always of you. Seductive, enticing, and tempting. But nothing compares to the real thing. Not even close.

Namjoon’s fingers absently trace patterns along your bare back. Your labored breaths have calmed down, slowly and evenly. Your lashes touch the top of your cheeks as you rest your eyes, and your tongue darts briefly to wet your pretty lips. 

He can’t stop looking at you.

“You always do this,” you comment softly without opening your eyes.

His hand stills. “Do what?”

“You always watch over me,” you answer, opening one eye to peek at him. There’s a small, playful smile on our lips. “Even when we first started seeing each other, you always look at me so endearingly.”

Namjoon laughs, a bit embarrassed. He never thought you’d notice the tender, forlorn look on his face after spending a night together. “Stay with me tonight?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re falling in love with me, Kim Namjoon.”

He smiles at that, dimples appearing deep in his cheeks. “I already love you, baby.”

You snuggle a little closer to him, the teasing in your voice replaced with sincerity as you tell him, “I love you too.”

It isn’t often that you two say those words to each other, but it still makes him catch his breath every time you do. His arm wraps around you protectively as he kisses your hairline, and he sighs happily as you tuck yourself under his chin.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs quietly, closing his eyes. It feels nice to have you in his arms. It feels nice to have you so close. He feels like he can relax like this.

Then, you ask, “What did Jackson say to you?”

His eyes snap open, and he sees the concern on your face. You hold his gaze, curious, but also as if you’re not certain if you want to push for the answers.

“He showed me a quest, and asked if we can help him,” he explains, his grip tightening around you a little. “It’s in my hometown.”

You’re quiet as Namjoon tells you everything. From all the details pertaining to the mission to Jackson heavily implying he won’t be able to do it without you. If there really is a necromancer terrorizing the village, you have the best chance of stopping them. Your skill at spell-casting is unmatched compared to the others.

Part of him hopes you’d refuse it – that you’d realize the odds are against you with this type of Wicked magic, and how stupid and dangerous this could be.

But he knows you won’t.

You know that Namjoon couldn’t pass up on it. This mission is too important to him. He could lose his parents and his hometown for good.

And Namjoon knows, if nothing else, you’d want to do it for him. You’d do anything for him. He’d do the same for you.

When he’s done, he feels you wrap your arms around him in a gentle embrace. “It’s okay, Namjoon. I know you want to help. I’ll do my best to keep your village safe, too.”

Namjoon frowns. His heart doesn’t feel any lighter as he holds you close. He feels so vulnerable as he softly confesses, “I’m afraid to lose you.”

“Lucky for you, I’m not an easy person to take down,” you quip confidently. You push yourself up to look at him, and your hand cups his face. Your thumb gently wipes away the frown on his lips. “I can handle myself, Joon. You know I can.”

Namjoon wants to believe you. But his heart still feels heavy with worry.

The next morning, Namjoon gathers the residents of the shop and tells them the news. As expected, there’s a mixed reaction.

“A necromancer?” Yoongi repeats, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Sounds fun!” Taehyung exclaims, eyes brightening with the promise of adventure.

“Sounds dangerous,” Hoseok corrects with a frown and crosses his arms. “We don’t really know anything about dark magic or necromancy. How would we know what we’re truly up against?”

“We won’t know until we try,” you reason, glancing over at Namjoon. “As far as we know, there’s only one necromancer, and there are several of us. The people in that village need our help, and we might be their last hope.”

“If we’re not already too late,” Hoseok grimly states.

Taehyung suddenly stands. “What are we waiting for? We need to start packing now!”

“Taehyung, calm down. We should think this through first,” Yoongi points out, but the raven familiar is already taking flight. He transforms into a raven and goes straight to his loft above the library nook.

“I’ll need to start brewing some potions and antidotes,” Hoseok mutters, also standing and walking straight to the kitchen. Over his shoulder, he asks, “Do you think we can stop by the market for ingredients?”

“Can we get snacks too?” Jungkook timidly asks.

You laugh and rub his back. “We can’t have you hungry on our trip.”

“I’ll talk to the others and tell them about the quest.” Seokjin informs, heading upstairs to change out of his pajamas.

“Then, I’ll wake up Jimin. He’s still sleeping in the spare room,” you tell the ones left in the parlor. You glance over at Yoongi, who is already standing up to follow you. “Wanna help me bother him, Yoongi?”

He nods his head, a twitch of a smile on the corner of his lip, as he walks with you up the stairs.

That just leaves Namjoon and Jungkook. The mage sighs and runs his hand through his hair. Everyone took the news better than he thought.

Your party will consist of Jackson, the Oathkeepers, and the shop’s residents. There’s safety in numbers when traveling in such a large group. All of you are diligently preparing to face whatever dangers the roads and this necromancer can throw at you. And Namjoon is certain that you’ll all look out for each other, as you always do.

The only glaring thing is the necromancer. Hoseok is right when he said none of you know what you’re going to be up against. And that makes Namjoon nervous.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook asks when he sees Namjoon start to head to the other side of the parlor.

“I’m going to see if the library will have anything about necromancy,” he answers, though he doubts he’ll find anything useful. Even his magical nook of books might not hold what he’s seeking for. “We’ve never had to deal with this kind of magic before. I want us to be prepared.”

More importantly, he needs to know how he can protect you. It’s inevitable that you’ll have to face a powerful mage that controls the dead, but if he can find something – anything – to give you an upper-hand…

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment. His dark eyes stare at Namjoon in an almost penetrating gaze that starts to make him nervous. Then, quietly, he mentions, “You have to take their bells.”

“What?”

“They use bells to summon the dead and have them do their bidding,” he explains, just when he hears Hoseok calling for him in the kitchen. “Take their bells, and they can’t control the dead.”

With that said, he stands and heads to the kitchen, leaving Namjoon to stare after him. 

He knows that Jungkook was previously with a mage that specializes in dark magic. He also knows that Jungkook doesn't talk much about that part of his past, if at all.

But as Jungkook disappears from the parlor, Namjoon can’t help but wonder if he knows more about dark magic than he lets on.

At dawn, you and the other shop residents meet up with Jackson and the Oathkeepers. It’s a long way to Namjoon’s hometown in Hawthorn Village, and Jimin agreed to keep an eye on the shop until you return.

“I’m sorry I can’t go with you this time.” Jimin holds you and peppers kisses all over your face. He wishes he could, but he has his own duties tying him to New Haven this time. “Take care and come home soon, okay?”

“I’ll miss you,” you reply sincerely, wishing he could come as well. Due to the nature of this quest, however, you couldn’t tell him the real reason you’re leaving town.

Instead, you simply tell him that you’re all visiting Namjoon’s family, and that Seokjin and his friends are escorting you all there while they have a job nearby.

It’s not a complete lie, but it’s not the truth either.

Taehyung and Jungkook are excited about going on a real adventure this time. They both look eager to get started, rucksacks on their backs and anticipation in their eyes. It doesn’t matter to either of them what they’re facing, as going on a quest with their hyungs sounds more fun than anything.

Hoseok looks like he’s seconds away from a mental breakdown. He’s constantly checking and rechecking that you guys have everything you’ll need for this adventure. His wand is ready, tucked within reach. His rucksack is full of potions and ingredients. He checks with Yoongi to make sure they aren’t forgetting anything, and Yoongi shrugs and drawls that if it’s something they’ve forgotten, it probably wasn’t that important to bring along anyway.

Namjoon and Jackson stand apart from the others, seeming to be in a deep discussion about something. Since Jackson requested his help, Namjoon has been nervous about returning to Hawthorn Village, even if he tries not to show it. You often feel his worried gaze on you when he thinks you don’t notice.

Seokjin is with his friends, going over the map and figuring out the best routes to take. You see a side of Seokjin where he’s more serious than you’re used to, and perhaps on the surface, this is just another quest for him. But when you see him glance over at Namjoon, you know he’s in it for the same reason you all are.

You’re doing this for Namjoon.

Your heart feels conflicted when you catch Jimin staring at the others. It’s hard to keep things hidden from him – to keep him in the dark about everything – and you have a sinking feeling that he knows that you aren’t being completely honest with him. That you’re leaving him behind with purpose, and that you’re shutting him out from such an important part of yourself. 

Maybe he doesn’t even believe your half-truth about simply visiting Namjoon’s family.

You wish you could tell him. You wish you could confide about your own worries about the mission. You wish you could’ve told him stories about Blackstone Castle when you had introduced him to Jackson.

Jimin turns his attention to you, and his eyes lingers on your face, seeing past the neutral mask you’re trying to keep on. “Is everything okay?”

You wish you could tell him the truth about you.

“There’s something I should tell you, Jimin…”

At that moment, Namjoon calls out to you. He has your pack over his shoulder, and a sheepish smile on his face when he realizes he’s interrupting you and Jimin. “We need to get going.”

“What did you want to tell me?” Jimin asks, curious now.

There’s so much you want to say. One day, you’ll tell him about how you and the others aren’t ordinary humans, that the building you all live in isn’t an ordinary shop.

But that day isn’t today.

“I’ll tell you when I come back,” you decide, touching his cheek. You kiss his lips and murmur, “I love you.”

A small, sad smile tugs on his lips before he kisses you again. “I’ll miss you.”

Reluctantly, you part ways with him and join the others. There is a lot of ground to cover between New Haven and Hawthorn Village, and each passing night will just make things harder for the surviving villagers.

“Ready to go?” Seokjin asks, looking at everyone. A unanimous sound of agreement is answered back. The party gathers into the horse-drawn wagons, and thus, the journey officially begins.

Your hand reaches for Yoongi’s – who automatically intertwines his fingers with yours – and you look over at Jimin one more time. He leans against a fence, watching as Yoongi helps you get onboard. When he sees you looking at him, he straightens up and mouths to come home soon before he waves goodbye.

“What were you and Jimin talking about?” Yoongi asks you, still holding your hand.

“I think I’m going to tell him about what I am,” you confess, a little nervous of what he might say. That he might convince you that this is a bad idea.

“You should,” Namjoon agrees, sitting on your other side. He rests his arm behind you, squeezing in so that everyone can fit. “It’s about time he knows about all of us, no?”

Yoongi glances at you with uncertainty, but mumbles, “If that’s what you want.”

A weight lifts off your shoulders as you smile. “Yeah, it’s been hard to keep things hidden from him all the time, you know?”

Namjoon nods and then, lowering his voice and leaning closer to you, he slowly asks, “Was it hard to keep us a secret? Back when we were at the castle?”

“A little,” you admit just as quietly. “Hoseok already knew. He said we were too obvious. My roommates were starting to get suspicious too, and I’m sure Jackson and our other friends would’ve figured out something was going on between us. I think it would’ve all come out eventually.”

“Would you have been mad if it did?”

“Not at all. It would’ve made things less confusing for me if we had been honest with each other from the start.”

In hindsight, neither of you had anything to hide. You both liked each other a lot, and even then, none of the guys were put off with the idea of sharing you. But magic comes with so much secrecy, it seemed natural to keep things hidden. To expect that your enamored feelings won’t be accepted because love is taboo for mages.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, frowning at the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m not blaming you, Joon,” you assure him, using your free hand to touch his cheek. “What matters is where we are now. Not all the things we could’ve changed.”

His lips quirks into a small grin as he takes in your words. “You’re right.”

The two of you share a brief kiss as the horses continue to pull the wagon you’re all on. It’ll take you as far as the roads will lead, but there’s a shortcut through the forest that will cut your traveling in half. That route, however, will have to be on foot.

Conversations between the others overlap as the excitement of the journey is still high. But to your surprise, you see one person is quiet and lost in his thoughts.

Jackson doesn’t say a word during the whole ride.

Traveling down the familiar roads that lead to his hometown in Hawthorn Village brings Namjoon back to unpleasant memories.

He remembers the terror the night promises, as if it’s still fresh in his mind. The low, warning growl of predators and their glowing eyes in the shadows. The way his body shivers from the cold, and how his feet ache from walking. The exhaustion that tolls his small body, but he can’t afford to stop and rest or the wardens will catch up to him, as they always seem to do.

It felt like a hopeless task then. But Namjoon was stubborn. 

He wanted to return home no matter what.

And now, years later, he finally will.

Seokjin is right about how things are different this time. Now, he has all of you beside him, instead of having to trek these roads alone. And that makes Namjoon worry.

“Watch out,” Namjoon warns, pulling you away from a green plant growing along the trunk of a tree. “Those plants are poisonous.”

“He’s right,” Hoseok agrees, examining them a little closer. You would’ve had an awful, itchy rash if you had accidentally touched them. He rummages through his pack and happily adds, “Luckily, I have an ointment for this kind of thing!”

“Careful, baby,” Namjoon says with caution a little later on. He holds onto you as he helps you down a slippery slope. “You might fall.”

Nearby, Jungkook is giggling when he sees Seokjin slip on the mud, staining his clothes with the wet dirt.

“Yah, Jungkook!” Seokjin snaps as he grabs the younger male by the ankle and drags him into the mud with him.

All day, Namjoon has been overly protective of you. Whether it’s a branch of a tree that’s hanging too low and blocking your path, a hole on the ground that you could easily trip over, or a mama bear and her cubs just passing through, Namjoon is there to guard you. Even if it means hurting himself.

“Joon, you don’t need to be so worried about me,” you assure him, sitting him down on a log and examining the cut on his arm. It’s bleeding, but it doesn’t look too deep.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Namjoon answers, wincing as you apply a bit of healing magic on the wound. Warmth spreads from your fingertips as it starts to close.

“I’m not the one with the cut,” you counter, gesturing at his arm. Thankfully, it just looks like a scratch now.

Being on the road isn’t too bad. After getting dropped off at the starting point of the forest, the excited chatter between you and the others lasts a good while, making the morale stay up. You all take breaks when you need to, make sure food and water is passed around, and keep an eye out for bandits, wild animals, and other dangers like low branches, poisonous plants, and pit holes.

After a while, the conversations die down to a mutual, tired silence. Everyone’s paces slow down significantly, and the breaks become more and more frequent. Jungkook quietly mentions that he’s getting hungry – the small snacks between stops aren’t enough for a meal – and Namjoon is certain he isn’t the only one.

No one protests when Namjoon suggests making camp at a clearing he finds. There’s unanimous relief as everyone begins to pitch their tents, make a campfire, and gather resources and ingredients to make supper.

Which leads to you and Namjoon, sitting together as you check the wound he gave himself when trying to protect you. He sighs and thanks you for treating him, barely feeling the sting of pain anymore. Part of him expects you to leave, but you still sit with him, watching as some of the guys play rock-paper-scissors to decide the order of night shifts.

Although you don’t admit it, you’ve been worrying about Namjoon too.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know you can handle yourself. It’s just…” Namjoon begins, rubbing his neck. “After everything that happened in Blackstone, I’m afraid to lose you. To lose everything again. Even now, I’m worried that you guys are putting your lives in danger because of me.”

“We’re here because we want to be, Namjoon,” you tell him with a small smile. “If it was Seokjin’s hometown under attack, or Jungkook’s, or anyone else’s at the shop, I know you’d want to do all you can to help too.”

“You’re right,” he says with another sigh. Maybe he’s worrying over nothing.

Your smile widens as you nudge him. “Are you nervous about going home?”

He chuckles dryly. That, certainly, is an understatement.

“I don’t think I know what to expect anymore. It’s been so long…” He lets himself trail off as his gaze turns to everyone else in camp. Taehyung is demanding a rematch as Hoseok throws his fist in the air and shouts in victory. Their rowdiness catches the attention of the others, who grin a bit at them as they decide to do another round. “My parents might still be in Hawthorn. If we have the chance, I’d like to talk to them. Tell them I’m sorry for burning down our old house, and that I miss them.”

“You could,” you assure him, giving him a comforting smile. “I don’t think the others would mind since we’re already there.”

He smiles a bit at that. Then, his heart flutters nervously as he proposes, “Would you come with me? When I go see them, I mean.”

You look a bit surprised. “I could if you want me to.”

“I do,” he quickly replies, a bit flustered. “It would be easier, I think. If you’re by my side at the time.”

“Then, of course I will.”

His smile widens and relief lifts from his shoulders, grateful you’ll accompany him. “Do you think they’ll forgive me? After all these years? It wouldn’t be too weird if I just showed up, would it? What would I even say to them?”

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart stutter. “I can’t imagine why they wouldn’t love you, Kim Namjoon.”

“Thank you,” he tells you softly, dimples popping at the shy grin. “For everything.”

Suddenly, the guys shout in disbelief and burst into laughter at the results of their game. You and Namjoon smile fondly at them. 

“I don’t remember where I was born,” you confide to Namjoon. “I don’t know who my parents are, or if I have family that knows about me. So, when Blackstone fell, I felt like I lost the only place I knew was home as well.”

“Oh…” Namjoon frowns. He never considered any of the fortresses a home. It always felt more like a prison. But perhaps, to mages like you and Hoseok, who’ve been locked away in those towers all your lives, it’s different.

“But you know,” you continue. “I can’t say I’d ever want to go back to it. If we hadn’t run away – if we hadn’t made it to the shop – we wouldn’t have met Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. Seokjin wouldn’t be happy as a warden. And I might’ve never even had the courage to tell you and Hoseok that I love you.”

“Really?”

“Blackstone was my home. It was the only world I’ve ever known,” you say, your eyes still fixed on the others before you. “But I don’t ever regret leaving that place behind to be where I am now. With you and the others.”

In his dreams, Namjoon sees you again.

Your hand is in his, leading him away from camp while the others are asleep. Taking him to a secluded place in the woods.

It’s just you and him. Like old times.

Your back is pressed against the trunk of a tree. A seductive smile touches your lips as you wrap your arm around his neck. You pull him in for a kiss, and his hands glide up your body in a lustful hunger. He hears you panting as his hand slips between your legs, your lip biting back a needy moan, and your flirty eyes glancing up at him beneath your lashes.

His trousers fall down to his ankles, and he lifts one of your legs. You lean against the side of the tree, shifting your weight against the trunk, and look over your shoulder at him with a tiny nod.

A whistle of an arrow flies toward him, but it hits you. Right in the heart.

The flirty gaze turns to a look of horror and accusation. This is his fault.

You slump on the ground, cold and unmoving. Hunters gather around, pointing their weapons at him. Wearing similar faces of anger, disgust, and terror like the villagers from his hometown the night of his awakening.

Among them are the rest of the guys: Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jungkook, and even Jimin. There’s disappointment and sadness in their eyes when they see your body. It turns to looks of hatred and distrust when they look at Namjoon.

It’s his fault you got hurt. It’s his fault things ended up like this.

Everything is his fault.

Namjoon feels so small again, like he’s a kid. Everyone gathers around him, wanting an explanation. Why is he born with magic? What wickedness has he done to be cursed with that power?

Your eyes are lifeless. Your skin is cold.

But with a distant twinkle of a bell, your head snaps toward him. Your jaw falls open too widely as an agonizing scream comes from your throat.

Namjoon wakes with a start.

Another dream about you, but this one is different. This one is a nightmare.

His heart races when he finds himself somewhere he doesn’t recognize. And it takes him a moment to place himself in a tent he’s sharing with you and the others.

Seokjin is at the far end, lying on his back with his face turned toward you. One arm is curled out beside him as his other hand rests on his stomach where Yoongi, in his cat form, has chosen to sleep. Hoseok has his arms wrapped around you and is curled up against your back. Taehyung has stolen his pillow, using it as a nest, as he tucks his head beneath his black feathers. Namjoon doesn’t see Jungkook right away, but he hears his low, steady croaks by his head, settled on the opposite end.

All of you are sleeping safe and sound, huddled together like a pile of puppies.

Namjoon smiles fondly at the sight, relieved to see that you’re unharmed. But the nightmare is still too fresh in his mind. Quietly, he decides to sneak out and get some fresh air.

A couple of the Oathkeepers and Jackson are keeping watch this time. His old friend looks surprised to see him, but doesn’t send him away when Namjoon takes a seat next to him by the fire.

“Aren’t you tired?” Jackson asks.

“I’ll go back in a bit,” he promises, frowning up at the sky. The night feels too long. Dawn doesn’t seem like it’ll break through soon.

For a while, the two sit together quietly by the campfire, lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Jackson asks, “Do you still think about that night? At Blackstone?”

The night of the rebellion. When Adriel summoned something Wicked from the depths of the Veil and made a contract with it. Power in exchange for his physical form.

“It’s not really Blackstone I think about,” Namjoon admits. The burdens he carries are longer and heavier than what happened the night you all escaped.

“I think about it all the time. Everything that went wrong. Everything that I could’ve done differently,” he sighs as he stares at the burning fire before him. “Adriel was my friend. I should’ve stopped him. I should’ve realized what he was doing was wrong.”

“Adriel just wanted us to be free,” Namjoon reminds him. There isn’t anything wrong with wanting that.

“And look where that got us,” Jackson bitterly retorts. “Adriel is dead. Most of us have probably been recaptured and sent back to a fortress somewhere. The rest of us are on the run, hiding our magic so we don’t get caught.”

Namjoon frowns. Jackson has a point. Even outside the castle walls, freedom still has its limits. 

“None of us could’ve known what would’ve happened,” Namjoon reasons. “I don’t think Adriel even knew when he made contact with that Wicked.”

“But we could’ve done better!” Jackson snaps. There’s an anger in his eyes that Namjoon is all-too familiar with. A spiteful resentment that he, himself, has carried for years. “We were his friends. We could’ve checked up on him. We could’ve talked him out of doing something so goddamn dangerous. We could’ve saved him too.”

His voice shakes, eyes wild with accusation and guilt. You were all at the tower. You’ve all seen what Adriel had become. You’ve seen how Jackson desperately pleaded to his friend to recognize him, and how the Warden Commander ran a sword through Adriel when he did. It’s a scene that’s been haunting Jackson ever since he left the tower.

“Jackson…” he begins, but honestly, he isn’t sure what to say. Namjoon feels pity. He understands how Jackson feels. He’s been in his place, burdening shame and guilt over things he couldn’t control.

Namjoon is lucky to have you and the others to be there for him when the shadows of doubt and resentment become too much.

But Jackson… he doesn’t have anyone to rely on.

“What if that necromancer in Hawthorn is one of us?” Jackson asks, his gaze now steady at the fire again. “What if they’re someone from Blackstone? What if they’re just another Adriel that lost their way, and dipped into forbidden magic they’re no longer in control of?”

Namjoon hadn’t thought of that possibility. He always saw the necromancer as a vague, hooded figure in his mind. Someone that summons the dead and commands them to attack his hometown.

What if that person under the hood was a friend? An apprentice he had a class with? Someone he recognizes from the halls of Blackstone Castle?

“Then we stop them,” Namjoon answers, placing his hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “And we try to do better this time.”

“I hope we can, Namjoon. I can’t have another mage fall like Adriel did.”

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

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[thatfreshi]

"It's Vile" (Uni AU P. 9)

You guys can clearly tell I'm feeling better bc holy shit, I've been writing like a machine.

tw - abuse, sexual trauma, blackmail

You tell Astarion which diner you're at, and quickly tell your friends that you have to handle something. You almost feel bad leaving Gale with the handsy lovers, but you know it must be important if he called. You don't really know why though, considering you barely know him at this point. It feels like hours, waiting outside the diner while the sun starts to go down, until eventually his dinged-up white car pulls into the parking lot. You walk over, full of uncertainty, and sit in the passenger's seat.

"Hey, you alright?"

He unbuckles the seat belt, curling up and leaning against the driver's seat to look at you.

"What do you want from me?"

"What?"

"Everyone wants something from me, so what do you want? I can't stop thinking about it, ever since you came over this morning. You're too nice, you have plenty of reasons to hate me, and yet you keep being kind. So what do you want from me?"

You're dumbfounded.

"Because we already had sex, and I know you're upset about it. Which, I'm sorry. I don't even know why I did it, and you're right, it was wrong of me to pretend like it was nothing. I'm just so used to it all meaning nothing. Everything in my life means nothing and you want to know stupid shit like what my favorite color is."

He wipes at his eyes, regretting it soon after, feeling the fabric of his sweater rub against that cut-up forearm again.

"I don't... I don't want anything from you. I just think you seem nice."

"I, seem nice? You're a bad liar."

"No, I'm serious. I know we got off to a weird start, but you seem cool. Maybe I'm weird, I don't know, but I don't really care what other people think. Besides, it's not fair to judge without knowing the whole story."

"You don't want the whole story."

"Not if you don't want to tell me, but I'd gladly listen."

"No, you wouldn't. It's all just words Tav, you don't mean that. No one ever means it. They say it to get into some fancy event or so I can get them a free drink or so they can make out with me in some dark corner of a party. No one ever means it."

"You don't have to believe me, but I mean it."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Because if I were as stressed as you, I'd want someone to listen. And I imagine it's hard not being able to say all the things you want or do all the things you want."

"Even if I told you, you'd leave. Pretend we didn't have this conversation, or maybe sell the story to some magazine. Why do you think I don't talk to people? Why I think it's easier to just let people hate me? Like Gale and Shadowheart? I'd rather them just blindly loathe my existence than know the truth."

He's shaking, truly and deeply bothered by your innocent desire to befriend him.

"Just tell me what you want from me so I can get it over with. Please."

The spectacle in front of you isn't lost on you. When he called you upset, you hadn't expected this, any of it.

"I just want you to have someone in your corner. That's all. I just want to be nice, I don't know."

"People don't want to be nice, they want power."

You shrug, trying not to cry.

"Power's never really been my thing. Is it so hard to believe I just want a friend?"

He chokes out a laugh.

"You have no idea."

Astarion relaxes a little now, putting his feet up on the dash.

"Something must be so incredibly wrong with you."

"Maybe so. Oh well."

"You said you want to hear all the scary stuff I have to tell you right? That you'd listen to all that?"

"Like I said, only if you want to share."

"Alright then. I got kicked out at sixteen, lived in this damn car for two years, started modeling because I've always been told I was 'gonna be a heartbreaker.' I've thrown my body at people to get jobs, stolen countless designer pieces that nobody would miss. And then Szarr contacted me at 18, told me he'd blacklist me from the industry if I didn't work for him."

He goes back to the sorrow of those younger years for a moment, you can see it shift in his expression.

"I was the first you know. You think my arm is bad? You have no idea. But I'm stuck in this contract with him, and I need the money to pay for school, but he takes ninety percent anyways. So I've continued to steal, anything from half-used makeup to hair products. Turns out it's really easy to get people to shut up about seeing you take something that isn't yours if you're hot... and I probably broke at least seven NDAs by telling you all of that. So, is that what you wanted? I can see the headline now, you'd make thousands."

Astarion's words drip in spite, trying anything to get you to admit you're using him.

"I'm sorry, that you've had to go through any of that. Truly, that sounds horrible."

He leans back staring at the ceiling of the old car, and starts to laugh.

"God, who are you? I did all of that to myself. I'm the one who used sex to get things I wanted. I'm the one that asked for this."

"Sounds to me like you just wanted to survive."

He chuckles, and rolls his head to meet your eyes.

"I guess I did, huh? It's barely been working."

You both sit in silence for a bit, listening to the idle engine, and you wonder what you can even say. He's right, there's pretty much no way out. What an evil thing, to take advantage of some kid who just wanted to go to college, and loop him into some horrible contract? No wonder he doesn't trust anyone, he's been taught that way, that helping hands only hold knives, that promises don't hold. It's vile.

"So, this is the part where you sleep with me, so you don't tell anyone anything I just told you, right?"

You go to laugh, and then realize he's serious.

"No... no not at all. I'm just here to be a friend, if that's what you want. Only if that's what you want."

"Damn you. You just... you keep making me want to trust you, and that's- it's terrifying. But I wouldn't mind, having a friend. Maybe it would even be nice."

You hold out a hand.

"Here's to being friends then."

Astarion doesn't extend his at first, thinking on it, and then slowly shakes hands with you.

"Sure. To being friends."

A smile spreads across your face, and he reciprocates, if only slightly.

"I uhm, when I saw Szarr today, he said that the seven of us have to go on a trip with him for a week, some important stuff across the country I guess. So, I'll be gone tomorrow morning, but maybe we can text?"

"Of course, I'd love that."

[melrosing]

As your not a big fan of fantasy books in general. What drew you into loving asoiaf? What got you hooked?

now that I'm invested in asoiaf I do genuinely like the fantasy elements of the story, but the stuff that really pulled me in was the human drama and political intrigue etc. I love the character work, almost all of the POVs feel fully realised and subvert typical tropes in really interesting ways (imo). I like the inter-generational drama (the reasons I like succession are v similar to the reasons I like the Lannisters), like if I want to understand Jaime and Cersei and Tyrion I can look to Tywin, and if I want to understand Tywin I can look to Tytos, and if I was to understand Tytos I can look to Gerold, like it's a russian doll of intergenerational trauma what more could a girl want.

and on that note I really like the scope! GRRM obviously feels this need to account for all details minor and major, so that even with everything that's already on the page there's room to extrapolate so much more. i mean here I am writing who knows how many words about a fake 20-episode long robert's rebellion tv series lol like this all happened before the series even starts and yet I hardly need to make anything up bc there is so much to draw on just based on all the random little details we've got here and there from characters reflecting on the same events from different angles, and trying to piece together portraits of the people who died based on the recollections of those on the page who remember them..... it is so fun)

and yeah usually I prefer to read about that kind of thing on a smaller scale but the drama that plays out in AGOT is so engaging that upon initiation I didn't find it so much of a chore to keep track of all the various houses and lands etc in order to understand the full implications of each thing that happened - it felt like it was worth the effort. generally it's the 'keeping track' of it all that I find grating about fantasy bc I really want to just get on with the story rather than keep on top of a hundred magic systems and sub-species of pixie.

and obvs asoiaf is low fantasy rather than high fantasy, i.e. there aren't intricate systems to the magic and or complicated genus for each of the creatures, so that made it feel a lot more accessible for me as someone who just isn't very interested in those kinds of details. Dany's magic is made up as she goes along, it's never explained, and that's the same for pretty much all the fantastical elements - it's very show don't tell. and even though when you count it all up there are quite a lot of fantastical features and subplots, taken together with the rest of the story it's more like.... seasonings I wouldn't usually choose but ended up liking just fine in this overall dish lol

and finally asoiaf just really appealed to me from a fannish perspective! I really hate when you're trying to dig deeper with a work and you quickly start to realise that the writer(s) just weren't thinking that hard. it feels like striking concrete with a spade, like it's a one-sided conversation rather than something both the writer and the reader are participating in. I think some fans are perfectly fine with that and good for them - who cares if the author built the work to sustain your analysis if you're just having fun doing it - but for me it's a complete killjoy, I end up v frustrated and like the work isn't worth my time

so here's GRRM who is so fixated on the finer details that he's churned out a history book like 700 pages long and a bunch of short stories and also another history book just to add a bit more texture to the main story. and I don't have to worry about network input or co-writers or actors' intentions or whatever other external conflict or influence cos for better or worse it's all his story. and that just suits me better lol, it's one guy and his shitty computer, and me reading the shit he wrote with it. pure and simple living in the moment no phones in sight

also jaime and brienne are everything to me xo

[hermitw]

Tengen, Kenjaku, + Sukuna - relationships and history (my guess at them, at least)

Sukuna's eye piece resembles a tree. It seems to move on its own, like it's breathing or something - Tengen's head does this as well.

In the exchange event arc, Kenjaku says that you can think of Tengen like a tree.

This might draw on a relationship between Sukuna and Tengen.

Sukuna doesn't seem to know much about his mother - maybe she was starving, she was pregnant with twins but Sukuna ate the sibling (which might have begun the cannibal rumor - we never see him eat anyone but his own mummy. When Sukuna did try other foods (popcorn and soda) they didn't even include meat. Anyway, it seems more like Sukuna absorbed his twin in the womb, they sort of fused together, and he came out with extra arms and 2 faces. (this is a post for another time, but I suspect that Sukuna has dissociative identity disorder, which is caused by childhood trauma. I'm only mentioning this because maybe sukuna had both souls, but I'm not theorizing in the 2 souls thing - if anyone else goes that route, I'd love to read it though.

Sukuna was an unwanted child, a cursed child, one that should have never been born (this is how he describes himself, and I'm certain he learned that from the way adults spoke of and treated him).

Tengen only smiled when Yuuji asked “why do you look like that?” coupled with Tengen saying “I'm more like a granny” and Kenjaku thinking that Tengen is starting to resemble Sukuna (and at first I thought sukuna was eating Tengen's true body, not his own mummy, so the resemblance is rly there - and Sukuna seemed surprised to see a mummy, which made me think that wasn't his own body. Because the clothing etc tells us that Sukuna committed to self-mummification, a Buddhist ritual that was eventually outlawed as suicide.) and I've come to think that Tengen is Sukuna's grandmother.

What about Kenjaku? The way Sukuna (and Uraume) acts around him screams trauma. We know that Kenjaku is a long-term plotting manipulator, master of coercive control. It really seems like Kenjaku and Tengen had some relationship… I wonder if Kenjaku was a bad influence on her. If the way he used the dead bodies of other people to inhabit himself normalized such disrespect of autonomy, or if Kenjaku insinuated that erasing (as Yaga put it) the star plasma vessels (middle school girls, as far as we know) was the only way to preserve Tengen's humanity as she ages.

There's also the fact that cursed energy, spirits, sorcerers, are only so prevalent and strong in Japan compared to the rest of the world because of Tengen's barrier - which is very suspicious, making the fact that Tengen strengthens the barriers utterly meaningless to me.

Is kenjaku a relative of Sukuna? I'm not sure. But in the end of this post I noted some possible references to Marilyn Manson (it's been 10 years since I've read his autobiography, interviews etc) in Sukuna's character - most heavily supported by Gege choosing Sa(i)nt as his song (side note, Manson has claimed to have DID). Anyway, the most disturbing part of that book to me was his grandfather's basement. He and his cousin used to pretend to be spies, and sneak into their grandfather's private room, and he still has nightmares about it (pretty sure I do too). I won't go into it here bc I'm not interested in throwing up. And I don't remember whether he feared his grandfather, but I'm pretty sure that punishment methods (which have now been classified as torture, i think) were mentioned - I think from both grandparents idk. Anyway, Sukuna said that Kenjaku does the grossest things (genuinely between Manson’s grandfather and Kenjaku, I can't tell who is more disgusting) which hints that this is no surprise, consistent with his behavior 1,000 years in the past.

Edit to add another thing that is... In the manga, Sukuna double jumps in mid-air, and we never get an explanation for that. In the first episode, Yuuji jumps 4 stories before eating the finger (his athleticism is usually close to the world record iirc, so this is too much imo). There's also Yuki Tsukumo's gravity CT (I think that she and Todo are also kenjaku's kids, but none of them are aware of it, not even him). Anyway. The point here is that maybe this is a sign of Sukuna being Kenjaku's child in some way, as well.

Back to Kenjaku - what the hell is his domain's effect?

I'm making the case here for age regression. Tengen only became fetus Tengen after being removed from Kenjaku (you could say this is for convenient transport to Sukuna, but I don't know). Often, responses to trauma, awareness that a relationship was even abusive, only set in after spending time away from the abuser. And then regression can set in, like suddenly missing social skills, going nonverbal, feeling a total loss of personhood etc. Given the metaphor for SA that I find in another character (if you caught up on the posts mentioned from the earlier link, you already know what I'm talking about - the yap (part 1 part 2) that goes way deeper into the references of trauma, especially sexual abuse, infringement on autonomy, prevalent in jjk, involving more characters. With that in mind, I feel supported that Kenjaku's thing is age regression). When Tengen and Kenjaku were together (whatever kind of relationship that was - what I mean is, when they were in close proximity, at least) kenjaku might have prevented Tengen from aging (in the evolution sense. I also wonder if Kenjaku's age regression thing could prevent himself from aging, as well - despite being a thousand year old brain, he certainly lacks emotional maturity, indifferent at best to the suffering he causes). I imagine that if Tengen and Kenjaku separated, then Tengen would continue a cycle of abuse, or just enact the same sort of behavior that Kenjaku didn't think twice about, to preserve herself. Maybe there were other ways to go about this - like a pact??? The most obvious answer here.

There's also the way that Tengen, the star plasma vessels, and the six eyes are all tied by fate (ngl I'm still wondering what this could mean so please elaborate if you have any ideas).

[poreyneel]

i was thinking about ur Durge x Gortash x Gale art, and its dynamic implications, and i thought of a slightly different version i thought youd like to hear,

Gortash x Gale x Tav

Hear me out, SPOILERS OF COURSE

Gale is torn between being Gale Dekarois, the man who loves his cat and learning, and being Gale of Waterdeep, the powerful wizard who was proud and strong enough to draw the goddess of magic herself, and who better to represent those desires then Enver & Tav?

Devilish Enver who hungers for control and power, whispering promises in his ear, of ruling together, of all his dark desires fufilled, of controlling the crown, because who needs the absolute when they themselves ascend to godhood?

Darling Tav who is sweet and charming, risking everything to save everyone, who accepted every piece of him, who would stand in defiance, who'd refused to compromise with evil and come out on top every time, who has given him hope and unconditional love.

i totally ranted for much longer then i meant lol but i am just very passionate

OMG THAT'S INTERESTING and I thought about them too!! thank you!! before I go to Tav x Gale x Gortash let's talk why I started all of this with Gale x Gortash (but it's with avatar Gale most likely bc there he can do literally what he wants bc we're controlling him lmao) so, it's literally a dynamic between two chosen - Bane already desired Mystra's power so in Gale's "I wanna reforge the Crown and ascend" corruption arc an alliance with Gortash can be useful to take her down their relationship is not about love, it's about partnership and world domination (because if players don't try to convince Gale to throw his ambition his root is an attempt to become a new god) and yes, the plot leads to a different outcome, but i love making different scenarios so it's like a trade offer - Gortash gets the opportunity to implement his plan, and Gale gets a strong ally to try to take revenge on Mystra and get rid of the sphere it's more about partners in crime again than feelings ig but we all know that in the canon this ambition does not end with anything good for one or the other but their duet would be truly catastrophic, provided that Gortash knows perfectly well what to put pressure on and what to say so, back to the Gortash x Gale x Tav: Gale is very easy to manipulate - Mystra has been doing this for a long time, we can do the same and Gortash, a specialist in manipulation, especially. Gale becomes attached very quickly, he doesn't like himself so much that he is ready for literally anything for the sake of those who give him attention. Gortash can take an advantage of it. My Tav - bard named Nayris Sterr - the absolute opposite of both Gale and Gortash. He doesn't need power even in theory of ascending and blah blah blah, he just wants to tell a story - and fate decides what it will be. For Gale, Nayris is a guiding light, he never judges him, but sees when something goes wrong. He knows people too well, especially their psychology and behavior - and he will not press if he sees traces of some kind of trauma. And even despite Gale's good intentions, he knows that the option of using the crown will not lead to good outcome. History should not repeat itself (yeah Karsus hello!!). And this is the first person to accept him for who he really is, not who he tries to become. Their relationship is about mutual help and understanding, even though Nayris is not a wizard and not Mystra's chosen one, he is still the same person who just wants to help Gale remember that he's a human being at the first place and he matters. He really matters - and not only to him. Gale has gone through a lot of pain, especially the trauma of the abandoned. The fact that he always wants to prove something - but he does not need to prove it and Nayris will let him know.

But what if he just won't listen? Or if the bard says something wrong and Gale realizes that their connection is not so strong as he thought. After meeting with Gortash and information about the crown - Nayris is categorically against it - he could certainly go his own way. In the canon, he is quite loyal due to affection and feelings, but what if the realization came to him that he is free to do whatever he wants? Their bond would be about obsession, trust and disastrous consequences. Gale is dependent on Mystra, in love with Tav (Nayris) but sees potential and ambition in Gortash. whether the desire to take revenge on Mystra and become a deity or the awareness of attachment to a single person will prevail - who knows

[irkimatsu]

Heheheheheh

Trauma request!!!

Trigger warning mention of “fake guns”, chasing, child abuse, mentions of self harm

So, remember that before the song “loser, baby” husk casually dropped lore? “I was an overlord once you know”

So, imagine reader just dropping some lore while talking with husk

And the lore, in that case would be mine- heheh (trying to make this as light as possible bc i don’t think I can avoid.)

I had a fucked up childhood, and I honestly think my biggest “trauma” was being chased by my father with these https://www.google.com.br/shopping/product/1?q=soft+air+guns&client=safari&sca_esv=6b8e48f255f8d8f2&hl=pt-br&biw=375&bih=550&tbs=vw:g&sxsrf=ADLYWIJXAulThPp-MLs_tZ2OkOV6OUwQ4g:1720929061589&prds=num:1,of:1,eto:8420583661406746750_0,prmr:1,pid:8420583661406746750,cs:1&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjt1Jir0KWHAxXKL7kGHQAhBrEQgjYI8Ag (not this exact model but something similar) same would happen with my sister and cousins, but they think it was rather funny. Another “trauma” I have is from when my father forced me to get half naked in front of him and my mother to see if I was self harming, (only panties and bra, both extra short) and yell at me once they saw I was. There are other things like making me abandon my rescued dog on my birthday (I took the dog in without their permission) and some shit like depriving me from attention so much that I started to self harm at the age of 9 whenever they refused to give me hugs and kisses bc I felt like I did something wrong, or when they would threaten to hit me if I woke them up at night so I started to crawl silently to their bedroom and sleep on the FLOOR whenever I had a nightmare while I was 6-9.

Now, imagine, everyone drinking and complaining about things like: Charlie- “yeah, feel a bit weird around my dad bc we.. don’t talk a lot you know?” And reader just going “girl, I feel you, my dad would threaten to hit me if I woke him up at night so whenever I had a nightmare I’d sleep on the floor of their bedroom “ and husk is like, just listening while in his mind everything annoying and weird about reader starts to make sense, like, why would they always annoy their friends and then get sad when they get angry or why they would be so shy and insecure around new people

ANYWAYS- I think that’s it for now. I just want some comfort about this- kinda shitty

God, I can't even begin to respond to everything you've been through... I'm so sorry you went through that. I really hope what I've wrote can help ease the smallest sliver of the pain.

Trigger warnings at the start of the ask should be a good indicator of what this piece is. Not detailed, nothing happens on screen, but Reader rants about their trauma and Husk comforts them. Traumas are specific to the requester, but if anyone else wants to read it, feel free! I'm sure we could all use a hug from the bartender, even if our traumas don't all match.

In retrospect, maybe you shouldn’t have said any of that. It seemed on-topic in the moment, with Charlie talking about how her dad took so long to believe her dreams without ever explaining why, and Angel bitching about his own violent, homophobic father but not going into much detail; he was a mafia man, and that was all anyone needed to know to guess what his parenting skills were like. Even Husk offered a bit of input about his childhood, about growing up in hotels and shelters all across Las Vegas and not knowing who his father was.

The subject was fathers, so you contributed your own experiences. Maybe you wouldn’t have been so detailed if you weren’t so hopelessly drunk. But with the alcohol coursing through your veins, you begin to speak. You tell stories about your father chasing you with an airsoft gun as some sort of sick “joke”, and about the beloved dog you had to abandon. You talk about the cycle of self-harm, where you’d be punished for hurting yourself and it would only drive you to cause further harm. A thread of neglect and loneliness trails through every story you tell, with you only pausing for the briefest of moments to sip from the drink that Husk keeps topping off for you.

By the time you stop talking, everyone at the bar is staring, burning holes into your soul that make you suddenly regret opening your mouth.

“...Jesus Christ,” is all Angel has to offer.

“Okay! It sounds like you’ve been through some pretty heavy things!” Charlie says, forcing the widest smile she can muster. “Maybe that’s what we can focus on in your rehabilitation! If you can learn to accept love from others and stop believing that your childhood was your fault, you won’t feel the need to act out!”

There’s one person you want a reaction from most of all, but he’s not responding. You felt his gaze on you for your entire impromptu speech, but now that you’ve finished, he seems to be ignoring you, more focused on a spot on the bar that he keeps wiping despite it looking perfectly clean.

“Maybe I should… go to bed,” you say with a forced laugh. “Sorry to bother you guys.” It’s still relatively early in the evening, but given what you’ve just said, everyone seems to understand your reasoning as you drain your final cocktail and head for the stairs.

—

You’re in your bed, but you’re not sleeping. You can’t sleep. Not with all the memories rushing through your head. God damn it, why did you have to bring all that shit back? It’s so much better to keep it buried. Sure, there was some slight relief in saying it out loud, but this backlash is so very not worth it.

You bolt up in surprise at the sound of a light tapping at the door.

“Are you awake?” asks a dark, smooth voice that you’d recognize anywhere. Your heart flutters at the very sound of it, then just as quickly sinks in guilt. Now you’ve gone and made Husk worry about you. You lay back down and face your wall, trying your best to feign sleep until he leaves.

“Can I come in?” he asks. “I don’t wanna assume, but… you seem like you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

And now he doesn’t even trust you to be on your own. Great. You grip your arms and shiver at the thoughts of Husk looking over your arms, marred with scars both fresh and aged, judging you, scolding you-

Your arms aren’t even scarred anymore. Not in this new demon body. None of the implements you’ve been using have been enough to permanently damage your nearly-immortal form. But still, all you can see when you look at your skin are those scars, and your gut insists that Husk will be able to see them, too.

“...okay. I’ll let you sleep,” he says. “But if you can hear me… everyone else has gone to bed, but I’m gonna be in the lobby a bit longer if you wanna… if you need anything.”

Good. He’s leaving. Just as you wanted him to.

Right?

“Wait,” you call out before you can stop yourself. You wonder if you’re too late and he’s already too far gone to hear you.

“You okay?” he responds.

It takes you a moment to find your voice again. “...you can come in, if you want. I’ll get the door.” You slowly shuffle your way out of bed, disentangling yourself from the blanket nest you’d snuggled yourself down into. You’re unsteady on your feet, anxiety taking over the part of your brain that knows how to walk straight, but finally, you find yourself at your bedroom door. You turn the knob and open it, a small part of you expecting to see an empty hallway. Surely you took so long that Husk gave up.

He’s still standing there, brow furrowed and wings drooping.

“...come in,” you say before turning around and heading back to your bed, just as unsteadily as before. You don’t look back to see if he’s following you in, only focused on making it back to your bed. You’re almost embarrassed to admit to yourself how grateful you are to see that he’s still here, and that he’s sitting next to you with no hesitation.

“...I’m sorry about earlier,” you continue, unable to quite look Husk in the eye. “I shouldn’t have said all that.”

“I’m used to it,” Husk says with a shrug. “Something about being around a bartender makes people bitch about all kinds of shit.” He smiles slightly. “And with that much bitching, I think you needed it.”

Your face heats with the admission that he’s right; you did need that.

“But it was way too heavy for me to dump on you guys,” you say. “Even if I needed to say it, you didn’t need to hear it.”

“I think I did, actually,” Husk says.

“How can listening to my rambling about my problems help you?” you ask in disbelief.

“Well… I can’t think of a good way to say this. Promise you won’t take it the wrong way?”

Him saying that only puts you even more on edge, but your curiosity about what he has to say wins out. “Take what the wrong way?”

“Well… I think we got off to a bad start,” Husk admits, gently scratching the back of his neck. “And a bad start doesn’t mean we can’t ever get along! Just look at me and Angel! But my first thought when you joined the hotel was that you were… clingy.”

You’d respond, but you promised to hear him out with the best possible interpretation, so you’ll keep your mouth shut for now.

“I have no idea why you gravitated to me the way you did. Constantly sitting at my bar, constantly talking, constantly giving me those damned kicked-puppy eyes whenever I told you I wasn’t in the mood. But you’d never cling to any of the other residents like that. Not even Charlie! Fuck, I think she would have loved to have you following her around and begging for validation! Instead you seemed afraid of her! Afraid of Charlie!”

“She’s the Princess of Hell,” you say in your own defense. “I can’t go around annoying a princess!”

“But you can annoy the bartender?” Husk says with a cocky smile.

“Look, I don’t know why I latched onto you, either,” you say. That’s not the truth; you know exactly why that charming, smooth-voiced bartender caught your attention so easily. Sure, he seemed gruff at first, but then you heard the way he spoke to regulars, especially Angel, voice flowing like warm honey with advice and assurances…

God, you want to be the one receiving those assurances. But now it seems like you’ve fucked up your chance.

“But after hearing your story…” Husk’s face falls. “...you didn’t get a lot of positive attention while you were alive, did you?”

You shake your head as you will your eyes to not tear up right now.

“I get it. I didn’t either. Been fending for myself since the day I could sneak my way onto the casino floor. When you’re a brat kid seeking approval from a world you don’t belong in, you end up in some real shit.”

You pull your legs up onto the bed and hug them for comfort while Husk talks.

“It sucks feeling alone, I know that. Just wanting someone to… to tell you you’re doing okay. That you’re contributing something. Clutching on to every bit of validation you can get like it’s a life preserver.

I used to be a performer, you know? I think the validation was part of what drew me in. People watching me, people joining that audience to see me. And when I died and got tied up in all that Overlord shit…” His laugh is hollow. “Well, you know how that ended up.”

“But I’m not like you,” you say. “I couldn’t turn my loneliness into talents like you did.”

“You didn’t have to,” Husk says. “Trauma isn’t some big sacrifice you make to suddenly become special. Some of us don’t come out of it stronger, we just come out broken. And even those of us who did make something out of it… was it worth it? I’m sure I could have been a magician or a saxophone player without hinging my entire self-worth on it. Might have even been successful at it if I didn’t have that baggage.” He rests his hand over your hand, the one that’s been digging its nails into your shin without you realizing it. “Hey. Look at me.”

You don’t want to, not with your eyes wet and puffy like this… but when you turn to him and see the warmth in his golden gaze, you’re glad you did it after all.

“I don’t want you worrying about what the rest of us think, all right? You went through some shit. Everyone in this hotel has been through shit, but yours is yours. No sense comparing it to anyone else’s.” He pulls your hand away from your leg so he can squeeze it. “Our shit’s shaped all of us, yours included. Might as well own what it shaped you into.”

“You said I annoyed you,” you point out. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“Hey, hey,” he says. “What did I say about worrying about what the rest of us think?”

“But I do worry about what you think!” you say, alcohol once again pulling words from your mouth without your will. “I… I wanna be close to you. I can’t explain why, but ever since I first saw you, I’ve wanted…” What have you wanted? What sort of relationship are you seeking with the older man? You can’t find a word for it. “I’ve wanted… wanted you to know me,” is all you can come with. “To like having me around.”

“And I do. The bar would be a hell of a lot more boring without you talking my ear off.”

Your emotions are building up too strong for you to contain; every muscle in your body is beginning to tense and shake, and the dam behind your eyes threatens to burst. You know what you need now, more than anything, but you also know you can’t just go for something like that, not yet-

But you go for it anyway, throwing your arms around Husk’s body and burying your sobbing face into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, voice barely there, as you expect him to grunt in frustration and push you off.

Instead, he hugs you back and gives you a slight squeeze.

“Hey. You’re all right,” he says, voice softer than ever as his claws gently graze your skin over your shirt. “I’ve got you. You’re all right.”

You choke out another apology as you nuzzle your face into his silky fur.

“Come by the bar any time you need to,” he says, his light scratches now focused on your scalp. “I’ll be there to hear you out. I’d like to know more about you… to understand you better.” He rests his cheek on the top of your head and nuzzles. “But you don’t need to talk now. Just do what you’ve gotta do.”

You remain in his embrace for as long as he’ll allow it. Even as your tears finally dry and your body stops trembling, you’re in no rush to leave his side, and he doesn’t move to let you go, either.

“I understand you better already,” he says quietly, as if trying not to disturb you with his voice. As if you could ever be disturbed by the smooth velvet that envelops you whenever he speaks to you…

You’re barely conscious when you feel him laying you back down on the bed and tucking you in with one of the blankets from the jumbled pile on your mattress. A single claw caresses your scalp a final time.

“Get some sleep,” he says. “We can talk more in the morning, if you want.”

As he walks away, you commit his voice to your memory, replaying his words over and over again. His voice, his warmth, his softness, his scent… pretending you’re still enveloped by everything that makes him Husk helps you drift into the best sleep you’ve had since dying.

[roobylavender]

a random thought but i really am very obsessed with how deeply committed bruce is to his love of people and to the extent that it’s a regular divide between him and talia. not that she is without love, no, hardly so, but love will never come before principle for her in the sense that the principle does stem from love, but from a selfless love, not a selfish one. and i use these two descriptors purely as a means of analyzing perspective, so selfless and selfish not necessarily as moral indicators as they are often used today but merely as expressions of whether you’re acting for the sake of others or for yourself. talia is someone repeatedly acting at expense to herself for the sake of others. she gives her child away, she ends her marriage, she doesn’t say a word about it again for years despite having the chance, she takes on a high level espionage mission without speaking a word to her ex-lover, maybe to protect herself, maybe to protect him. whether those were worthwhile decisions to take is certainly debatable, but she acts near strictly from a perspective of caring about others and the world first. bruce is comparatively a very selfish person. every victim an extension of his own trauma, every grief taken to heart, every desperation for companionship so heavily internalized that he ends up pushing people away bc at some point he can’t bear to take them down under with him in his sorrow. it’s funny that he tries to be the rational voice in a room bc up to a point he is, but he also cares too much about his own personal affairs to be that way consistently

and in light of all of that i am thinking about the conversations he and talia must have in that alternate universe where damian is normal and newly revealed to both of them as a concrete concept in their lives, for bruce as the son he never had and for talia as the son she gave away, come back to them by way of fate. why did you never tell me you didn’t actually miscarry. why did you never tell me you had a son and you gave him away. why did you pretend like it was over when it never was. why did you look me repeatedly in the eyes over the years like there wasn’t something more that was there. when you said you couldn’t talk about it before i boarded a plane back home i held my tongue. when you let yourself be beaten within an inch of your life bc your city was falling to pieces i held my tongue. when my father took the contingency plans you made and used them to turn your friends against you i held my tongue. when i worked for a man who would for all intents and purposes use the knowledge of my relationship with you against you i held my tongue

how can bruce, a person so wrapped up in his love for people, not understand the number of sacrifices that talia has had to make for his own sake. her repeated protection of him, of his sanity, of his sanctity, is simultaneously her greatest crime and her greatest benevolence to him. she carried that grief of loss for years and years bc of how important bruce is to her. and bruce loves her, loves damian, too much to even begin to understand what love means outside of the parameters of his own feelings for them. that is his dilemma writ large wrt people he loves. that he can’t see the extent of what they do for him, bc he loves them too much and doesn’t know how to get out of the sheer grief and possessiveness of it

[wttcsms]

with the limited time i have to work on writing, there are just certain fics that i like more than others lol, and it'll show bc you'll actually see that i put thought and care into the writing and the overall story telling & i just wanted to share some of the fics i've been working on that i personally feel like will showcase my most thoughtful writing:

of course, daylight is at the top of the list. probably going to be the longest piece i write (at least 150k words upon completion), there was just a lot of time spent in figuring out the themes and characterization and handling tough conversations & it is something i am most proud of.

the royal au war general x scholar's daughter concept is most likely going to be given to nanami & i really love the juxtaposition of their roles in the relationship. so we have the hardened war general who just wants peace and solitude, and we have this lovely young woman and she is trying to figure out her standing in this world, and she's incredibly intelligent and insightful but there's an underlying naïveté due to her youth (compared to the general) & there's a lot of push and pull b because she is certain that he is what she wants and he has these ideas of being "moral" and "doing the just thing" which is trying to put a stop to her advances, but it's hard because he is in need of this companionship, she (reader) is the sweetest thing, the gentlest/most healing presence in his life, so is it really worth destroying her hopes and dreams and his sanity all in some "noble" attempt for her to find someone "better"?

similarly, soldier honorably discharged and struggling to acclimate to civilian life. this touches much more on trauma and grief; how grief doesn't go away entirely, and how past experiences still impact our lives well down the road into the future but how it doesn't have to be our worst defining trait. i've discussed a scene that i really love with a friend, and it's essentially how on the battlefield, this soldier knows that you don't leave your comrade behind. and it's an innocent scene where you (the mother of his children) are calling your kids to get out of the backyard and come inside the house, and the youngest daughter trips and falls, shouts out "wait for me!" but her older sister turns around, looks at her, and then continues onwards to back home. and the soldier (this is well into the future, so some people would assume "oh he should be over his trauma, over his memories on the battlefield) raises his voice inside the house for one of the first times ever. and he's staring at his daughter, and is like "why would you do that, why would you leave her behind, you don’t leave her behind"

[spurgie-cousin]

ok i know i've been talking about Robyn a lot lol but I'm prepping for a deep dive video on her and I think I've finally figured her out:

Her mom was the secondary wife from the time she was 8 or 9, and secondary in the sense that her (step)dad didn't even claim her mom's family publicly. Likely under the guise of "I can't be public about being a polygamist or they'll throw me in jail" (which has been used to justify a lot of abuse in the fundie mormon community).

Anyway so she grew up being part of the less important family, which from everything I've seen *so far* is something she seems to justify publicly. But something like that has gotta do a number on anyone right, like imagine your dad not publicly acknowledging you until you're in your 30s (she was actually the exact age I am now)? Her stepfather though, who she considers her dad, was very very conservative and from everything I can see, he really drilled it into her head that polygamy was the most holy way to go, and that his actions were for the good of the entire family.

So like Christine has pointed out, she has never actually lived in a plural marriage setting where multiple moms and kids have to negotiate every day life, and that apparently wasn't something she was interested in learning or that Kody required of her when she married him. Despite that, she is an adamant advocate for plural marriage and basically all evidence points to the fact that she really does want to be considered a sister wife.

And lastly (and I say this objectively not hatefully) Robyn is a compulsive liar. She twists details about the past to fit a certain narrative in her head and this may be a hot take, but I don't really think she does it consciously or to be *knowingly* manipulative. Like in the last episode, she tells a blatant lie about Kody not wearing the gold ring Meri gave him when they first started dating (if you don't know that story let me know bc OOF is it a doozy). There's thousands of hours of video that proves her wrong, but if the ring story is true the way Meri, Christine, and Janelle tell it, the narrative of her not being responsible for the tremendous shift in the family dynamic can't be true.

So I really think her trauma response to her upbringing was to ignore, suppress, and reframe a situation until it resembles something that is not so painful, just like she did with her childhood. That's not to justify her behavior because as adults, it's our responsibility to be introspective and heal ourselves as much as we can, but I don't know why else someone would lie so often and so blatantly when they can be so easily proven wrong. Lying is like taking a Tylenol for a headache if the headache is painful truths about her life that she can't reconcile.

I think she really did want to live polygamy but the part of her she suppresses was definitely going to take advantage of any opportunity she got to be the primary wife. And not just for ego reasons, but maybe to avoid some of the pain her mother experienced. Almost like she was owed it bc of her past, and I think she dismisses the other wives legitimate concerns because her mom was "happy" and devoted to her husband and she had it way worse.

Anyway sorry to rant about Robyn Brown on a Tuesday lol but I'm mostly just thinking out loud and trying to organize my thoughts for my deep dive. If you have any Robyn thoughts or lesser known stories/pieces of info let me know‼️‼️😊

[innocencelives]

continuing retrospectives: whats new, and what has always been —infinite reflections on the truth

past few months have been hard, the episode is ongoing bc insurance and doctors have failed at getting me on a new med. a month ago i finally got prescribed a new one and im still trying to figure out how to get my insurance to pay for it, they have arbitrary rules abt what meds to take with other meds.

the episode is…all over the place. the depression is obviously the most excruciating, silent and unknowingly creeping its way through my veins until its all ive known and all i ever will know-until it ends, also silent, also unknowingly. the anxiety: paranoia more like, intense paralyzing social fear that defies all logic and lapses into absurdity but never stretches into psychosis or delusion. never. terrible, painful bodily fear that everything i do is wrong and everyone knows it. im eating nachos wrong, im walking wrong, my hair, my sweater, my face, im moving my hands wrong, there all thinking it, your friends think it, the stranger across the street he thinks it. everytime i ask my friends “wtf are u talking abt we love you your acting the same as always!” (hands shaking as i throw the nachos away bc im spilling all over myself and consider it too hard to continue).

the sleep, oh my god the sleep. i dont think there is a human on earth with a sleep schedule as erratic and random and life-ruining as mine. slept 20 hours a day for 4 days, then i couldnt sleep an hour a day for a few days. slept all day-up all night, slept in two 6 hour shifts, cant fall asleep, cant wake up, cant stay asleep, cant stay awake, cant be remotely normal. the fatigue, and the brain fog is worse than losing a limb. i know i know that sounds mad, its how i feel. the sleep doctor i see every 3 few months for 20 minutes who reccomends me a podcast: “i just dont buy it….i dont buy it”. okay. i mean…gaslighting??? medical gaslighting?? so your telling me, a person with 3rd degree burns, to put a band aid on it shutup and dont be delusional? get in line dude. ive seen worse than you.

and the trauma…oh the trauma. the undercurrent of my broken life till 16 yrs old, then the drowning, all consuming, omnipresent anvil for the next 10 yrs. how, how do you expect me to disentangle the symptoms of life altering complex trauma from the symptoms of various or perhaps a few life altering physical ailments? they both overlap constantly. and both, hilariously, remain undiagnosed.

yep you read that right, the person whos been on meds since 14 yrs old, experienced incestuous rape, unrelenting brain fog and fatigue, foot pain since a child that immobilizes me everyday, various experiences w excruciating stomach pain, low back pain, upper back/neck pain, i was diagnosed w adhd and tic disorder officially, they threw severe sleep apnea and a couple sleep disorders on top recently, what am i missing. oh yea my lazy eye is so terrible i close one eye to see most of the day. a lot of those remain mysteries, or undiagnosed.

my psych tried to put it one way: my mental health symptoms are a little bit of this and a little bit of that, i have bits and pieces of different things. maybe i have complex trauma and a specific rare insane gene disorder, or a few chronic conditions, or a PD and complex trauma, or complex trauma and schizotypal and avpd and lyme disease or complex trauma and fibro and bpd and a piece of my brain missing, who knows man. one things true: (not according to my family) i have complex trauma. and that can have far reaching physical implications.

ive been talking to the psych and my social worker friends abt perhaps flying to the mayo clinic or something similar. a bunch of appointments in a week or two w tons of specialists and tests with an integrated approach to get (as they call it) “the right answer, the first time”. or essentially some diagnosis/es

. . .

a horrible, liberating truth. there is no going back, there is no closing pandoras box. once i knew, i couldnt unknow.

how can i be believed enough to dispell the internalized disbelief,

validated enough to erase the gaslighting,

tell enough people my perverted past to erase the feelings of secrecy,

have enough chosen family to forget every relative,

recieve every ounce of love and care for the infinite time i spent denied of it,

jack off enough times to gross porn until i understand the abuse,

cry enough tears till im empty, empty enough blood till im dry,

fall through enough rocks till i hit the bottom,

when will it ever be enough.

im so tired of it, im so sick of it. im done with it. you can have it back. 16 year old jamie, seduced by the feelings of freedom and truth, put it back, dont read it, dont look too hard, dont think about it too much, do not pull that string it will all unravel i promise you.

im a barren husk of a boy. a shell of who i once thought i was. a paralyzed, broken, catatonic, defective 26 yr old failure who peeked at the man behind the curtain and saw something they could not unsee. i could have never in my wildest fears predicted a life quite as chaotic as this one. it feels like a curse, that i’ll never know a life without a childhood like mine.

its like a poisonous music to my ears, hypnotic and sweet while it tears me apart, hearing just what it truly was. i feel a bit more free, a bit more whole everytime i tell someone. everytime i use the dirty words, incest, sex abuse, sexual violence, molestation blech blech blech gross yuck. nasty. but the disgust, the shock, the genuine look of horror on anyones face as they react to those words is like a hug!-they know. they feel that way to. it was that bad. it did happen. the mere thought of it to a stranger is enough to ruin the vibe. ohhhhhhh if you only knew, if you only knew.

scream it from the roof tops, tattoo it on me, put it right under jamie on my hello my name is sticker, put it in the first sentence of my biography and the first sentence of my obituary. as long as they know my name they will know my truth. my horrible, liberating, truth.

[wisyhana]

YOUR YUGIOH ART IS ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS!!! Your lines are so perfect yet expressive and the way you show dimension is just stunning!! how did you get so good at anatomy!?

THANK YOU SO MUCH AAAAAA 😭😭😭

Honestly I think I'm not that good at anatomy, but I can give a little description of how I got here with it.

Heads up for long reply

There are 3 things that had helped me along the way to draw bodies and art in general:

1) STUDY: I'm not talking about going to art school (even if I did, it didn't help and only got me several traumas) I'm talking about sitting at your desk and study the body. I did it in so many ways. One of my favorite was to take a bunch of fashion magazines and draw the movement line on the models (I know it by that name, I don't know if on english has another term, but is basically the line that goes through the spine), the movement line helps quite a lot to have a basic idea of how the pose will go, how the energy is distributed along the torso and limbs, etc (if you want I can give a little 'how-to-do' in another post so it can be easier to understand). Adding to it, studying actual anatomy helps a lot, to know where the muscles are, how the bones work and how the skin also does its thing. You don't have to know everything, you just need to have the idea.

2) REFERENCES: fuck pinterest, albums with 174.747.426 pics references from a random person, all you need to know is your own body. I know that people always argue to me about this topic 'but hey I don't have a jojo body, I'm not even a man, I'm a big size, I don't like taking pictures of myself, etc, etc,etc' I get it, but guys ME NEITHER! I don't have the body of the characters I draw, but if you want to understand anatomy you have to start with yourself.

It's embarrassing to admit it but most of the hands I draw are all made in base of my own selfies, and I used em for so long that I don't need to take pictures so often anymore, cos I ended up understanding how it works. Even on poses I kept using my own body as the biggest reference and I'll keep doing it.

These are some of the hundreds of pics I've taken of myself for references. Embarrassing myself only to prove my point :'D

3) and the most important PRETEND THAT YOU KNOW: Sounds weird but back me up on this. Art is the work of the liar, the artist is the person that found a way to turn something 3 dimensional to 2 dimensional, it's the lineart that fakes reality to pretend that there's space in a piece of paper. So for that to work you have to draw pretending that you know what you're doing.

This is not a 'believe in yourself' this is a 'keep lying to yourself until others believe it'. Art is not about being loyal to reality, is about knowing the shortcuts. The majority of my drawings aren't anatomical correct, but I faked it so much that you think that it is (PSYCHE!)

I know it sounds like you only need this one point to be capable of drawing but nope nope nope! You first need to understand the reality to be capable of fake it.

There isn't a single way to draw a body, I'm pretty much against those 'DON'T DO THIS. DO THIS INSTEAD' bc it basically tells you that you don't have other option but learn that one way, basically telling you the shortcut without explaining you why or how. There are millions of ways and for you to find yours, all you need is understand the way you see the world.

This was my way of learning, it could help as much as it cannot help at all! But I hope one of the three points managed to ring a bell on someone ^^