#they say we'll get more flashbacks possibly so...

[cerealbishh]

"Look, I just- I want my life to feel meaningful!"

"You used to think your life was meaningful by being in a family with me!"

[cutielando]

game night | l.n.

synopsis: in which game night gets a little too competitive

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

As the winter break finally came around, Lando had made plans for him, you, Max and Pietra to take a trip to the mountains, just the four of you.

Which is how you guys found yourselves nestled comfortably in a cabin deep into the Swiss mountains, chatting it up and just enjoying the quiet atmosphere that the off-season provided you with.

But, knowing Lando, he couldn’t stay still for more than an hour at times, and would always find something else to do.

Just like he did now.

“I’m bored” he had announced, groaning and throwing his head back against the couch.

You chuckled, knowing he would have said that sooner or later.

“So?” Max asked, looking up from his phone at his friend.

Lando was silent for a moment, contemplating about how he could cure his sudden found boredom.

“Let’s play a game or something” he suggested, his eyes lighting up.

"Like what?" you asked, your hands running through his curls softly.

He pondered for a moment, his eyes glancing around the cabin living room before his eyes landed on a shelf full of board games.

Not saying anything, he jumped up from his spot on the couch next to you, beelining for the shelf to analyze what he was working with.

"Let's play Monopoly" he said, his eyes twinkling as he took the box in his hands and rushing back to sit down next to you.

You, Max and P all groaned in unison, the last thing either of you wanted was to play Monopoly with Lando.

Lando stopped in his tracks, looking at the three of you with wide eyes.

"What?" he asked, his shoulders deflating.

"Mate, you know how you get whenever we play Monopoly" Max said, glaring at him.

He pouted, looking at you for support.

You bit your lip and shrugged, making him gasp.

"You too?" he asked, looking at you with a hand over his heart.

"Baby, I love you, but you know how competitive you get whenever we play" you said, trying to be as gentle and nice as possible.

"But I want to play..." he said, pouting and looking at the ground.

You sighed, shaking your head as you exchanged looks with Max. Both of you knew Lando was playing the both of you, wanting to make you feel bad for not wanting to let him play.

Max sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, we'll play" he muttered, making Lando erupt into a wide smile as he sprinted towards the coffee table to lay everything out.

You laughed at his antics, shaking your head fondly.

"I wanna team up with P" you called out as she took your hand.

Lando whipped his head around, staring at you with betrayal written all over his face.

"What? Why? We always team up together" he said, his eyes sad.

He almost made you change your mind, but flashbacks of past game nights with Lando made you stand firm.

"That's exactly why we should change things up a little bit" you argued, trying to keep his spirits up.

He pouted, glaring at you while setting up the board. He kept it up for a minute or two longer before he sighed and nodded.

"Fine, but just this time" he said, pointing to you.

You nodded and leaned over to kiss his lips quickly before you got and moved so you were sitting next to Pietra.

Lando huffed once again before he finally let go of his anger and instead focus on "discussing strategies" with Max.

As the night went on and the game was in full swing, Lando's competitive side slowly started to show itself when Max landed on one of your properties and had to pay you almost all the money they had.

"MAX! What the fuck, mate? You just walked right into their trap!" Lando shouted, pushing Max as he stared at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t control the fucking dice, now, can I?” Max argued back.

You and P, on the other hand, were trying not to laugh, finding the exchange between them too funny.

They continued to bicker like this until late into the night before you called it quits on the game.

Instead, you were now snuggled up on the couch with Lando, the fireplace doing a fantastic job of warming you up.

The world around you was silent, the only sound echoing through the warm cabin being the crackle of the fireplace.

Lando was staring at the crackling fire, his hand playing with the ends of your hair.

Looking down at you, he noticed that your eyes were shut, your breathing evened out as you peacefully slept on him.

Smiling a little, he pressed a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead, whispering a quiet "I love you" as he let himself succumb to a peaceful sleep.

Dreaming of you.

...and beating you at Monopoly.

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[air--so--sweet]

So, Aidan Gallagher was the last cast member to wrap on season 4, and he wrapped several days after everyone else which I've been presuming means we're getting some apocalypse flashbacks but I've just had another idea.

We see Lila and Five travelling to what looks like the original apocalypse, what if they see young Five in the apocalypse? I think it could be really interesting as I don't think any of the other characters fully appreciate what he went through (well, Luther appreciates what it feels like to live in total solitude). Especially when he came back looking exactly like he did when he ran away, but with an adult consciousness instead of a teenage one. It makes it very easy to forget he got stranded and had to learn how to survive in an apocalyptic wasteland as a literal child. While grieving everyone and everything he has ever known.

And I think for Lila to be the character to witness that, as someone who has quite an antagonistic, but also incredibly loving relationship with Five (I was going to say though neither would admit it, but actually I feel both of them had dropped almost all pretense of hating each other at the end of season 3. I don't know if either would verbally express love for each other but in the same way I don't know if either would verbally express love for anyone) would be incredibly affecting. Especially as, unlike his siblings, she never knew teenage Five, she has always known him as an adult who looks like a teenager. I feel like for Lila to witness firsthand the brutality Five experienced alone in the apocalypse, and to realise he was really just a child, especially now that she has a child herself...well I think it would be truly upsetting for her but also giver he a deeper understanding of Five and just how important his family is to him (and family is what Lila desires and values most in the world too).

But also, it will make her realise how similar Five's experience was to her own. Because both were caused to suffer at a young age by the Handler, Lila by having her parents murdered, Five by being left in the apocalypse for 45 years when she could have plucked him out at any point, and then exploited for her own gains with little to no care given to how it sould affect them. Five says The Handler made it so he couldn't belong anywhere, that she made him a killer; she more or less did the same thing to Lila.

Most theories I write are just 'Oh this would be cool if it happened' or 'Look at this ridiculous idea I had', but, now I've imagined it, I'll be really disappointed if we don't see Lila and Five witness younger Five in the apocalypse. Damn...

Also, while writing this it occurred to me that, if the scene where Lila is crying is in the subway, which is looks like it is, maybe she isn't crying because something happened her daughter or Diego (as most of us presumed), maybe it's related to her seeing something The Handler did in another timeline. Or maybe it's just the emotional impact of seeing The Handler in the flesh again, knowing Lila loved her and saw her as her mother, and The Handler was happy to murder Lila in cold blood when she realised she couldn't manipulate her anymore. That's bound to fuck you up. (To be be clear, because I think how I phrased this suggests we'll definitely see The Handler again, I have no idea if we will or won't but with the hopping of timelines it's a possibility.)

Or maybe Lila sees what The Handler took from her, what life would have been like if she grew up with her parents. Or again, the effect of just getting to see her parents alive and in the flesh. A train always stops in the same places, it can't just change course or route like any other vehicle. Maybe the subway allows you to move between timelines/time travel but only as an observer. You can't change or effect any events and therefore can't interact with anyone as a result. Imagine the pain of seeing your parents you thought you'd never see alive again and not bring able to interact with them in any way. Or maybe she has to witness their murder again knowing she can't do anything to stop it. It would be a really interesting parallel from their relationship in season 2 to have Five comforting Lila over the death of her parents.

[chimcess]

→ Chapter Eleven: Following Rivers Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Smut, Word Count: 16.1k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Y/N is the newest Bridd, a young girl who was given her position too early. Now a woman, Y/N is revered amongst the wolves as the most powerful witch they have ever known, but hiding under the surface is a woman who has to battle between her duty and her heart. Warnings: ANGST, strong language, PTSD, flashbacks, self-hate, self-depreciation, talks of death, everyone is going through it, getting to know some more characters, love-triangle, Jin is being kind of a dick, I promise we'll start seeing more Jimin as this goes on but he's just really depressed right now, Sam is a HUGE flirt, Kook is a vibe and I love him, Secrets to be reveled later, disabilities are going to be a huge part of Yoongi's life now and his arc so bear with a lot of that being in his povs, he's my favorite person in this series (so far, later you'll meet by baby for life), possibly wrong medical terminology, sexism and misogyny will be hinted at, everyone is going through it, lots of grief and heartache, Babyboy just wants his best friend back, mourning her life she's dead, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Thanks for reading <3

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Yoongi's POV

The night was too loud—everything was loud—like the world had turned up the volume just to drown me out. Crickets chirped incessantly, their sharp songs digging under my skin. Somewhere in the darkness, the witches chanted, their voices twisting together like secrets I wasn't supposed to hear. I sat on the porch, my fingers tracing the worn grooves in the wood. It used to calm me when I was a kid. Now it just felt... empty. Everything did.

The stars above were a blur, smudges in a sky that once looked like magic. Now it was just a cruel haze—a kind of blindness that let me glimpse shapes and light but never enough to truly see. The battle with the elves had left me like this. Half-blind, half-alive. And I didn't know which half was worse.

My porch used to be our refuge. I could almost hear Y/N beside me—her laughter mingling with the fireflies dancing around us in Moland. But I couldn't picture her smile anymore, and that hurt more than anything else. Her memory was slipping away along with my vision, leaving only empty outlines where something bright used to be.

There was a party going on somewhere in the yard. The witches were celebrating Wendy's new role as head witch and our recent win against the elves. We would've done it sooner, but after Cordelia's death, any idea of joy felt wrong. I thought it was still too soon for something like this, but Wendy seemed up for it, and Jin went into full planning mode the moment she smiled. Their laughter and shouts made my head hurt. Some of them had offered to hang out with me back here, but I didn't want the company.

Pretending to be happy with near strangers wasn't something I could do.

I heard footsteps approaching—slow, hesitant. It was my mother. She didn't say anything at first, but I felt her warmth beside me. I avoided looking at her; everything looked like an old black-and-white film from Northorn, and it broke my heart every time I saw her without color. "Yoongi," she said softly, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. So light it was almost not there. But it was. Everything felt heavy now. "How are you holding up?"

I exhaled, the sound shaky. "I'm not," I finally said, the words coming out more bitter and broken than I intended. "I don't even know why I should try to hold on anymore."

Her hand tightened on my shoulder. "We've been through so much," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "But we're still here, Yoongi. That means something."

Does it? I thought. I didn't say it, but the weight in my chest felt suffocating. Carrying it another day seemed impossible, and the thought made me want to scream. "I miss her," I whispered instead, your name lodged in my throat. "She always knew what to do."

My mother sighed, her fingers brushing my arm. "She did," she agreed quietly. "But she wouldn't want you to carry this alone. You've still got people who care about you. Jin—"

I flinched at his name, cutting her off. "He doesn't need me. Not when he has Wendy to think about."

"That's not true," she said firmly. "You don't have to do this alone, Yoongi. Let him help you."

"Wen's mom died," I reminded her.

"I understand that. Dee meant a lot to me. I've known her my entire life. But you're hurting, too," she replied thickly. "You've been doing your best to make him happy through all of this. He's just lost right now. Bring him back."

I stayed silent. The idea of reaching out felt impossible—a weight I wasn't ready to lift. The silence stretched between us, her hand on my shoulder more burden than comfort. "I'm tired," I muttered, leaning forward and resting my face in my hands. "I don't know if I can do this right now. Or ever."

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. The blur gave me migraines. "I don't think I can do anything anymore."

"You can," she insisted, her voice steady. "You're stronger than you think, and it's okay to let others be strong for you."

I didn't argue, but her words felt hollow. Letting people help me wouldn't prepare anyone for the war. Wouldn't fix the shining. I wanted to tell her how empty it all felt, how each day was a battle to find a reason to keep going. But what would that change? She couldn't fix this. No one could.

And the last thing I wanted was to worry my mother more than she already was.

Footsteps again—lighter this time. Wendy. Mom kissed my cheek, patted my shoulder, and headed back inside Mi-Jeong's house. If there was one good thing about staying here, it was how close Mom and Hoji had gotten with Jimin's mother. Even I had to admit I liked her. She made me laugh and went out of her way to make the house easier for me to navigate while we figured out a way to fix my eyes.

Once Ji-Hyun left to stay with Callisto's family just outside the gates, things got a bit quieter. Jin and I hadn't spoken much since everything settled; he was too busy helping Wendy take over as the head witch of her coven. Before Ji-Hyun left, we'd teamed up against the wolf a few times. His wife was the only reason we didn't confront him more.

Callisto was sweet and gentle, fiercely loyal to her husband and his whims. Ji-Hyun held a grudge against Y/N for reasons he wouldn't share. His wife, despite his silence, didn't let him off the hook if he even thought about saying something rude about her. He'd calmed down considerably before they moved out, but I had a feeling it was more for his mother's sake than any real remorse.

"Yoongi?" Wendy's voice cut through the thick silence, cautious. She stopped a few feet away, her figure a blur of gray against the darker gray of the night. "Are you okay?"

I almost laughed—a bitter, hollow sound. "No," I said flatly. "But I guess that's just how it is now."

She moved closer, her presence warm but almost suffocating. Everything was shades of gray, like the world had been drained of color. My eyes were still healing, leaving everything hazy and indistinct. "We're here for you if you need anything," she said, echoing my mother's words. "Jin and I—"

"Don't," I interrupted, my voice low and rough. "You know just as well as I do that Jin isn't here for me as long as you're around. So spare me the speech."

Her silence hurt more than any response could have. She sat beside me, her shoulder just brushing mine. I kept my gaze down; the porch beneath us was a washed-out gray, the wood grain barely visible through the blur. "He cares about you a lot, Yoongi," she said softly. "Even if it doesn't feel that way. Even when he's being... difficult."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to feel something—anything. But all I felt was the same hollow ache that had settled in since that night. I nodded slightly, enough to make her think I was listening, but my eyes remained fixed on the indistinct, grey shapes at my feet.

Laughter drifted over from next door—too bright, too alive. It sounded out of place in this monochrome world. All I could do was sit there. It was so pathetic I wanted to cry.

"You know," Wendy said gently, her voice tinged with hope, "I've been trying to get him to talk to you more. Maybe if you put in a little effort, it could help. I know he misses you."

"Doesn't matter how much he loves and misses me," I muttered. "You're his top priority now, Wendy."

"But you should be, too," she insisted, her fingers lightly touching my arm. Her hand was a pale shade against the darker fabric of my sleeve. "Promise me you'll at least try?"

I nodded again, a mechanical gesture more for her benefit than mine. "Okay," I murmured, the word scraping out of my throat. "I'll... try." It was a lie, one I didn't even believe.

Wendy's hand rested on mine, warm against the cold that had settled into my bones. It should have been comforting, but now it was just... there. The lack of color made everything feel distant, unreal. Wendy had been a great comfort to me when we were younger, but now, after everything that happened, it just felt wrong. She shouldn't be here with me. If there was any hope that Jin and I could remain friends, she needed to stay as far away from me as possible.

But Wendy either didn't know or didn't care. When I talked to Jungkook about it, he said she was just naïve. Sam called her selfish. That made me laugh. It was something Y/N always said about her, too. I think everyone had at one point or another. Even Cordelia.

The name sent a shiver down my spine. It was ironic that I was calling Wendy selfish when her mother had died just weeks ago, and she was here comforting me. Jin was right. I was a bad friend who only thought about himself.

"You're not alone," she repeated, her voice steady.

I swallowed hard, my throat aching. Alone? I'd never felt more alone. Even with her beside me, it didn't change the hollow ache inside. The world around us was a blur of grays, shadows without definition. "I feel like I am," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

"Don't say that," she said firmly. "You're still part of the family. You're still you."

Still me. What did that even mean anymore? The person I was before felt like a stranger. My fists clenched, the grainy image of my hands tightening in my lap. Frustration bubbled up. "Wendy," I began, my voice rough. "What if this is it? What if we never find a cure? What if I'm stuck like this forever? Then what?"

"Then we'd figure it out," she said softly.

"There is no 'we,'" I snapped, taking a deep breath to steady myself. The motion made the hazy edges of my vision swim. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice my outburst. "Mom would have to move back to Bangtan, and while everyone else is playing house, I'd be stuck as the blind cripple who needs his mommy."

"Don't talk about yourself like that," Wendy said sharply. "Even if it doesn't feel like it, you matter to us. You're still the most valued person here. What do you think everyone is celebrating right now?"

I stayed quiet. Her words didn't reach the part of me that felt like it had crumbled to dust. The grayscale world around me felt empty, lifeless. It was easier to retreat into the numbness, to hold onto the pain because at least it was familiar.

"You, Yoongi," Wendy's grip on my arm tightened. Her face was a pale blur, but I could sense the intensity in her gaze. "You single-handedly took down more elves than anyone here. You sacrificed your body for us. Why do you think Jin's being a jerk? He feels insecure and inadequate next to you. You've never known how incredible you are, have you?"

I wanted to tell her I hadn't, but I kept my mouth shut. We were treading dangerous ground, and I prayed no one else heard what she said. The sea coven was full of gossipers, and I worried Jin would hear about it. I didn't want to fight with him.

"Thank you," I whispered eventually, the words thin and weak. The night pressed down, the grayness seeping into everything. My thoughts drifted to Y/N—her laughter, her vibrant presence that seemed to bring color to everything. Without her, everything felt impossible. Without her, I felt... nothing.

I knew if she were here, I'd be doing a lot better right now. Y/N and I had a bond deeper than any other I'd ever had. Samanya was becoming a close second, but we had a few cultural differences that made it hard to get as close. She was also one of the most beautiful beings I'd ever seen, her image in my mind a vivid contrast to the muted world before me.

There were only two others who'd ever made me feel the same way: Delta and a man here I refused to acknowledge existed half the time. The impossibility of that relationship made it easier to pretend that just the sight of him didn't make my heart race. Like I didn't watch him like a stray dog hoping for scraps. He never noticed. Of course he didn't.

Wolves didn't practice homosexuality. When I asked Jungkook about it, he said it was viewed as a mental illness. Mates were for breeding, and a wolf who didn't want to continue the bloodline was so out of the ordinary they didn't think it could be natural. Y/N had explained something similar before, but she didn't know all the ins and outs like the young omega did.

"I miss her," I muttered, my chest aching. "She made it all easier."

Wendy's voice softened, her grief barely hidden. "We all miss her. But she wouldn't want us to stop living. She'd want us to keep going."

"Going where?" I asked, my voice cracking. "What's the point if everything just ends?"

"The point is we're still here," she said gently.

I didn't answer. The world around me was a sea of gray shadows, the party sounds muffled and distant.

"Yoongi," she said after a moment. "I know it's hard. I know you feel like you've lost everything. But you haven't. You're just... hurting right now."

I wanted to argue, but the fight was gone. I just sat there, staring into the hazy blur of a world I couldn't fully see, feeling like a stranger to myself.

The night stretched on, Wendy beside me—a flicker of warmth in the endless gray. I didn't know if I believed her, but for now, I'd let her stay. For now, I'd let myself breathe. It was all I could do.

Eventually, Wendy stood up, leaving me alone. The party was still in full swing, a large bonfire crackling, casting shifting shadows in shades of gray. A group of women gathered around it, their figures indistinct. I watched Wendy find Jin, saw the way she fit under his arm—their forms blending into one another in my blurred vision. Either he hadn't seen us or was choosing to ignore it.

I hoped it was the latter.

I leaned back against the rough wood of the porch, every nerve weighted down by a relentless exhaustion. It wasn't just my body that felt broken—it was everything. The world, my place in it, me.

I'd lost count of the nights spent like this—stranded in the dark, drowning in thoughts I couldn't escape. For the first time, I felt like I understood Y/N's nightmares. When they were at their worst, I'd sleep in her bed to wake her up, and she'd spend hours telling me how horrible and guilty she felt for being so angry and upset all the time. She never called herself a burden, but now that I was in her shoes, I knew that's what she meant.

I knew she was fine and alive out in Lustra somewhere, but it didn't stop my mind from mourning her as harshly as I'd mourned Cordelia at her memorial service on the shores of Syrena. Maybe even more. I loved Wendy's adoptive mother, but I didn't know her as well as I should have. Y/N was my best friend, and her absence was gnawing away at whatever sanity I had left.

Minutes—maybe hours—dragged by, each one heavier than the last, until the soft sound of footsteps cut through the quiet. They were barely there, and if my ears weren't so tuned in to what was happening around me, I wouldn't have heard them at all. Then I caught the faint scent of mist and wet grass. I knew who it was before she spoke.

Minutes—maybe hours—dragged by, each one heavier than the last, until the sharp sound of footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. They were barely audible, but I'd become attuned to every little noise. Then I caught the faint scent of mist and wet grass. I knew who it was before she spoke.

"Mind if I sit?" Sam's voice was brisk. When I looked up, her face was a pale oval against the darker grays of the night. I wished I knew what color her eyes were. They were the only thing I wasn’t confident in my guesses about. They were light, but I could not tell you what shade they really were. She'd always been beautiful, but tonight there was something different—something that made me appreciate her even more.

Her eyes were a soft gray, her hair a dark shadow framing her face. I knew that if I ever got my full sight back, she'd be even more striking. But for now, it was nice to be around someone when appearances didn't really matter. She didn't seem to mind helping me navigate or putting up with my bad moods, either.

Sam was nearly perfect. It was just too bad I had someone else in mind when we weren't together.

Those dimples were so deep I could make them out from the porch anytime he walked by...

"Go ahead," I muttered, nodding toward the spot Wendy had left.

She settled beside me with an ease that felt out of place next to my stillness, her energy humming softly between us. "You look like hell," she said bluntly. "What's got you in pieces this time, Yoongi?"

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "This time?" I echoed, shaking my head. "It's always the same stuff." I gestured vaguely at the night—at nothing and everything. "Take your pick."

Her smirk faded slightly, and for a moment, I thought she might soften—but Sam wasn't the soft type. She never sugarcoated things, never pretended it would all be okay. Part of why I didn't push her away like I did the others. Yet, anyway. I'd already drawn the line about romance with her in my head, but I knew I was weak, and she made me feel comfortable. She reminded me so much of Delta...

No, I couldn't go there.

"Yeah, it's bad," she agreed, her voice steady. "But sitting here feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to change anything." She leaned closer, her breath warm against my cheek. "Staring at them will make Seokjin angry, you know."

I snapped my eyes away from the fire. I hadn't been looking at Jin or Wendy, but it wouldn't surprise me if Jin thought I was. He'd become more paranoid and distant these days.

I turned to her, bitterness bubbling up, unable to hold it back. "What do you want from me, Sam?" I didn't care if it made her uncomfortable—she'd chosen to sit here.

Then I felt bad again. That wasn't fair.

Sam didn't flinch. If anything, her gaze sharpened, unwavering and direct. "You think you're the only one feeling this?" she asked, her voice low. "You're not. We're all carrying it, Yoongi. The war, the losses, the uncertainty—it's wearing us all down."

"Then why don't you look like it?" I snapped, my fists clenching. "Why do you still act like there's something worth fighting for?"

"Because the alternative is giving up," she said simply. "And I've seen what that looks like. It's worse than this."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Doesn't sound so bad right now."

She was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice held a rare gentleness. "You're not the first to feel that way. And you won't be the last. But giving up? It doesn't end the pain, Yoongi. It just spreads it. You think Wendy's okay? Or Namjoon? Or the rest of us?" She paused. "We're barely holding it together. But we're still here. And so are you."

The mention of his name made my pulse quicken, and Sam knew it. She only brought him up to get a rise out of me. Her spending time with him didn't help. The thought of both of them together—breathless, naked, sighing—was the first thing that had truly distracted me all day.

He was so... captivating.

I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes—not that it mattered. Everything was just as hazy and muted as before. It was better at night. I could see things a little clearer. The sun made my eyes burn and itch, and I couldn't leave the house without shades. Taejin was kind enough to give me a few pairs.

"I'm not here, Sam," I whispered. "Not really. Without my sight, I'm a terrible fighter, and without that, what's left of me? I don't serve much use here."

She sighed softly. "You're still you, Yoongi. Maybe some things are different, maybe you're feeling lost. But you're still here. And as long as you are, you've got a chance to figure out who you'll be now. Life doesn't stop just because you want it to."

I wanted to argue, to push her away, but there was a stubborn truth in what she said.

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" I asked, the question slipping out more like a plea than I'd intended. "That I'm so messed up I can't even use magic? I keep trying, and nothing happens."

"You don't have to say anything," she said quietly. "I don't want anything from you. But maybe you should want something for yourself. You've lost a lot, but you haven't lost everything. You still have your mother. That's more than many here can say."

Guilt gnawed at me for snapping at Wendy earlier. It wasn't just Wendy, either. Jin had almost lost his father. Enver had nearly been killed multiple times in that fight. Sol, as much as I hated to admit it, had lost the only person she ever knew as family, and no one seemed to care. Taehyung, maybe, but I knew they weren't talking much. Countless others had fallen as well. Sam wasn't wrong—I was lucky to have my mother.

It didn't erase the fact that my life felt irreversibly damaged. I was the only witch with a permanent disability, the only one no one could heal. Maybe I had the right to feel a little bitter.

"I don't know how to do that," I murmured, barely audible. "How to want anything anymore."

She nodded, her expression unreadable in the grayscale blur of my vision. "Then start small. Want to survive. Want to see tomorrow. Want to believe things can get better. And if you can't want it for yourself, then want it for the people who still care about you."

I couldn't respond. Couldn't argue. After a while, Sam shifted closer, her movements deliberate but careful, like she was approaching a wounded animal. I didn't turn my head, didn't acknowledge her beyond the faint scuff of her boots against the porch. I didn't have the energy.

"You know, Yoongi," Sam said, her voice lighter than it had any right to be on a night like this, "I've always thought you were handsome."

"I know," I mumbled, barely more than a whisper, my voice worn thin. "You know how I feel about you already, just like every other person you’ve sunk your teeth into."

"You're my favorite," she chuckled softly. "You haven't even let me get that far yet. And your skin, those eyes..."

I rolled my eyes. No one ever liked me for my face, and I knew Sam would say anything if she thought I'd give in just a little. My body buzzed with anticipation that I forced down. I didn't know if I could handle something like that right now, even if it might feel good.

Sam's laugh faded, and her tone shifted. "I'm serious, Yoongi. You've got this whole mysterious, brooding thing going on. People like that."

I let out a bitter breath. "What people?" I muttered, shaking my head. Then, a faint smirk tugged at my lips. "I'm a blind guy who can't do magic. Who's lining up for that?"

"You'd be surprised."

I turned slightly toward her, a sigh escaping my lips. "You're relentless, you know that?"

"It's part of my charm," she said, and before I could respond, I felt her shift closer. Her breath was warm against my cheek, and then her lips brushed mine—soft, tentative, giving me a chance to pull away.

But I didn't.

Instead, I leaned into her, my fingers brushing against her arm as I kissed her back. It was brief, just a moment, but it felt like a small light flickering in the darkness. When she pulled away, I could still feel the warmth lingering, and it made me feel... something. Something other than emptiness.

"Thanks," she whispered, barely audible. "For letting that happen."

I swallowed, my throat tight, and nodded. "Thank you," I said softly. "For wanting it to happen."

She smiled—a gentle curve I could almost see in the hazy grayscale of my vision.

Silence settled between us, comfortable for once. I watched the party slowly disperse. Jin and Wendy passed by on their way back inside. Jin glanced down and grinned at me. He was probably happy to see Sam's head leaning on my shoulder. I didn't look to see Wendy's reaction. It didn't matter.

The ache in my chest didn't go away, but I did feel a little better than I had earlier.

Eventually, the last of the witches were gone, and the fire began to burn low. Sam was unusually quiet, but I think she knew I needed time to think. Watching the smoke curl up into the night sky, I tried to keep my mind off the sadder thoughts that seemed to be on repeat lately. Sam deserved better, and I was exhausted from it all. I needed a break.

The sharp creak of the front door pulled me from my thoughts, and Jungkook's familiar voice broke the quiet—loud and bright, just like always. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. He was exactly what I needed, even if I wasn't sure I could match his energy tonight.

"Guess who!" Jungkook called, bounding onto the porch, his grin as wide as ever. "Hope you two haven't died of boredom without me!"

Sam smirked, standing up and leaning against the railing, arms crossed. "Not yet," she shot back. "But the quiet was nice while it lasted."

I chuckled softly but stayed quiet otherwise. The silence had been nice, and I wasn't quite ready to let it go. Jungkook's energy filled the space, bright and insistent, but I could already feel how drained I was from earlier.

"Perfect!" Jungkook plopped a couple of bottles on the table with a clink. "That's why I brought reinforcements. Drinks to celebrate surviving another day in this lovely mess we call life."

"Getting drunk sounds nice," I muttered under my breath, the words tasting bitter. I didn't feel like we were surviving all that well—maybe it was just me. But alcohol? Alcohol I could manage.

Sam glanced at me, her expression unreadable, then turned back to Jungkook. "And you think drinks are going to solve everything?"

"No," Jungkook shrugged, undeterred. "But they won't make it worse, right? And besides, who says no to a little fun?"

I let out a hollow laugh, the sound cracking in the still air. "Fun," I said, shaking my head. "Don't know if I'll be much help with that."

Jungkook's grin faltered, his eyes flicking toward me, then away. "Hey, come on," he said, his voice softer now. "You're still here, Yoongi. That's gotta count for something."

The words landed like stones in my chest. I gripped the bottle he handed me, the cold glass calming me for a moment. "I guess so," I said, barely above a whisper.

Sam straightened, her teasing demeanor fading. "Yoongi..." she started, but I shook my head.

"I'm fine, Sam," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "Just a rough day. Can we just crack open whatever the kid brought and have a good time?"

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably, his bottle clinking as he set it down. "We all have bad days," he said steadily. "You’ve been having a tough time lately, and I don't think it's fair for anyone to make you feel bad about it. I can leave if that's easier. You two seemed fine before I got here."

"It's fine, Kook," I chuckled, touched by his thoughtfulness. "It's not your fault I'm so..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish.

Jungkook's expression softened, and he reached over, giving my shoulder a gentle nudge. "Hey. We're all in this mess together, right?"

Sam sighed, stepping closer. "You're too busy shutting us out to let us help," she said quietly. "But we're not going anywhere, Yoongi. We're here."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. Their words didn't fix anything. They didn't make the weight on my chest any lighter or the darkness any less suffocating. But for the first time in a long time, they made me feel less alone.

"Now, come on," Sam teased, nudging my shoulder just enough to pull me out of my spiraling thoughts. "You're being so depressing you've got Kook acting serious. That's a first."

"Hey, I can be serious," Jungkook protested, though his usual smile was back, not quite reaching his eyes. "But right now? I'd rather laugh with my friends than sit around dwelling on things I can't change."

I raised my bottle in a half-hearted toast. "Sometimes, laughter is all we've got."

Jungkook lifted his own bottle, grinning. "To laughter, and to the best friends a guy could ask for."

Sam rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. "Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy on us now."

We clinked our bottles together, the sound echoing softly into the night. The weight on my chest didn't disappear, but it felt a little lighter.

"I'll kick Chief Kim's ass for you in a heartbeat," Sam joked after taking a sip.

"And I'll turn Bo into a goat," I added, trying to keep the mood light.

Sam giggled. "We'd actually get some use out of her then."

"You two are so mean," Jungkook laughed, shaking his head.

"It's part of the charm," Sam shot back, her grin widening.

We finished our first drinks quickly, and Jungkook was more than happy to crack open a few more. The night was young, and the smell of the bonfire still lingered in Mi-Jeong's backyard. I used to love that smell, but now it brought back memories I didn't want—the kind that made me squeeze my eyes shut and remind myself that I was safe. That nothing bad was going to happen.

"So," Jungkook said, leaning forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "what's next? More drinks? Truth or dare? I want to make things interesting."

"Let's not get too wild," Sam warned, though the curiosity in her smirk betrayed her. "We've got enough chaos in our lives. Don't think we need any more drama."

"True," Jungkook agreed, his grin softening. "But hey, we might as well have fun while we can. Those bastards will be back eventually."

Sam's expression shifted, a playful glint in her eyes. "How about a round of 'Devil's Lie'? Ever played, Yoongi?"

I raised an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth twitching despite myself. "Who hasn't? Are you sure you're ready to lose?"

Sam laughed, leaning in so close I could feel her breath. "Try me," she challenged.

Jungkook let out a playful hoot. He'd always said he wanted Sam and me to end up together, something about "eternal happiness" for his only friends. Sam and I just laughed it off. She didn't do the whole marriage and kids thing, and I was perfectly happy without any strings attached.

Jungkook tilted his head toward the house. "Hang on. I'll go see if Momma Park has a deck lying around." He disappeared inside, leaving Sam and me in the warm night air.

A moment later, Jungkook returned, holding a slightly battered deck of cards in one hand, a triumphant grin on his face.

Sam helped me over to the small table on the porch. I could see it was a shade of a mid-tone grey, but the design—a dark shape curled up on itself—was still a bit blurry. I settled into a chair, trying not to cringe as Sam's chair dragged loudly against the wood.

"Alright, game refresher," Jungkook announced, setting the cards on the table. "The rules are simple: play a card face down and say what it is. If no one calls your bluff, the game moves on. If someone thinks you're lying and they're right, you drink. If you're telling the truth and they call you out, they drink. First to lose all their cards wins."

Sam's eyes lit up as she grabbed her drink. "Finally, a game I was born to win."

I smirked, picking up my bottle. "We'll see about that."

Jungkook shuffled the cards with surprising dexterity, then dealt them out. "Let's make it interesting," he added, grinning. "Every round starts with 'I bet the Devil,' because why not?"

Sam leaned forward, her grin mischievous. "Oh, this is going to get ugly."

Jungkook went first, laying down a card. "I bet the Devil... this is a seven of spades. Also, I had a crush on a teacher once."

Sam groaned. "Seriously? That's your big confession?"

"I think he's lying about the card," I interjected, squinting at him.

Jungkook turned it over with a flourish—it was a seven of spades. "Drink up, Yoongi."

I groaned as Sam burst out laughing. "I'm going to be so bad at this. I can't see your faces that well without the moonlight."

"I can get a lantern," Jungkook offered, but I shook my head.

Fire wasn’t as bad as direct sunlight, but my eyes were sensitive enough right now that it added some strain.

"I'll manage."

"My turn," Sam said, sliding a card down with theatrical flair. "I bet the Devil... this is a king of hearts. I've never been with a woman before."

I squinted at her, trying to gauge the truth. "The card's a lie," I said confidently. "And that story is complete bullshit, too."

She flipped it over—it was a king of hearts. "Nice try, Yoongi. Bottoms up!"

"What about the story?" Jungkook asked.

"Oh, a complete lie," Sam replied, already reaching for her drink.

Jungkook leaned back, watching us with a grin as I took a reluctant sip. "This is going better than I expected," he admitted, placing his next card. "I bet the Devil... this is an ace of clubs. And I never snuck out at night."

Sam snorted. "You're full of it. No one makes it to your age without sneaking out."

“Card?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Bullshit,” I said.

“Think he’s being honest about the card,” Sam waved me off.

Jungkook flipped the card over—it wasn't an ace. Sam cursed under her breath and took a long sip while Jungkook gave us a smug look. "Told you I've got a good poker face."

"Good boy," I teased, sticking my tongue out at him.

"Mom's favorite," he shot back with a grin.

Jungkook had some of the brightest smiles I'd ever seen. The only flaw was his slightly too-long front teeth, but even that suited him. Namjoon's were a close second, but I didn't see him smile enough to compare.

I wished I could see him smile more. He was always so... compelling.

The night carried on like that—the game quickly evolving from simple bluffs to playful confessions and outright ridiculous lies. By the end, we were leaning into each other, laughing so hard that tears pricked at the corners of our eyes. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough for now.

The dim light filtering through the tavern's grimy windows felt like tiny knives stabbing at my eyes, even from where I was tucked away in the corner. Without sunglasses, stepping into full daylight wasn't even an option—the pain just wasn't worth it. I hunched over my excuse for breakfast: rubbery eggs and toast so dry it could double as a coaster. Hunger insisted I try, but every bite tasted like last night—greasy, regretful, and tinged with the bitterness of too much ale and too little honesty.

I pushed the plate aside with a metallic scrape, wincing at how sharp the sound was. The murmur of voices around me tangled together, a blur of lives I wasn't part of, just out of reach. Conversations mixed into a static hum, like I was behind some invisible barrier, listening to a life that wasn't mine anymore.

The creak of the tavern door broke the monotony, a cool draft brushing past as it opened. Two voices followed—one light and easy, as familiar as home. Hoseok's laughter rang out, warm and effortless, undercut by Hyuna's softer chuckle. Their voices cut through the haze like sunlight piercing storm clouds.

"Mind if we join you?" Hoseok asked, his tone as laid-back as ever, though I could hear the weariness beneath it.

I gestured to the empty seats, managing a small smile. "Go ahead. Just a heads-up—the food's as bad as it looks."

"If Yala cooked it, I can imagine it's bad," Hyuna said, eyeing my plate with a smirk. "Greasy, stale, and questionable at best?"

"Pretty much," I muttered, pushing the plate farther away.

Hoseok chuckled, but the sound lacked its usual spark. "Hey, at least it's not rations out of a tin like the copiae are getting in the field. I'd take overcooked eggs any day."

We shared a weak laugh, but the moment was fleeting. The weight of everything we'd been through, the constant worry, crept back in—thick and heavy. Hoseok leaned back, his eyes drifting somewhere far away. "Bridd saved my life in that last battle," he said quietly. "I don't even know how, but she did. I keep thinking... it should be me out there instead of her, alone."

Silence settled over us, broken only by the clinking of glasses and low murmurs from across the room. A pang shot through my chest, the reminder of Bridd's absence cutting deep. She'd been our anchor, the one who kept us steady. Without her, it felt like we were all just... floating.

"You miss her," I said softly, voicing what we all felt.

Hoseok nodded, his face tight with worry. "We all do. But Jimin's taking it the hardest. He's been beating himself up since that argument they had before she left. This war... it's tearing us apart."

Hyuna's expression softened, her eyes distant. "I keep thinking I should've said something to her, thanked her for everything. But I didn't. None of us did, really."

"We didn't either. Barely saw her after she woke up," I swallowed, my voice rough. "She's the heart of our families, and I don't think she ever realized how much she held us together."

Hoseok's hand rested on the table, his fingers tapping lightly. "I can't even imagine what it'd be like if she doesn't come back. Jimin's trying to act strong, but he's falling apart."

"He's been so distant lately," I murmured. "He doesn't know who he is without her anymore."

"Namjoon's been keeping him company," Hyuna nodded, her voice quiet. "He's hardly around here anymore. Only talks to people when he has to."

"I've been trying to keep an eye on him," Hoseok muttered. "He's easy to find—training, Bridd's place, or scouting. He's here all day, then slips away when things get quiet to spend time at her house. He's been fixing it up."

That brought a small grin to my face. It was nice to think it'd be ready for her when she got back. Unless, of course, something happened to it again. I doubted the elves would bother returning to the clearing. The witches who'd gone to Clarcton to find family said everyone thought Y/N was dead when they found her cottage destroyed and 'the Bird' gone.

We didn't correct them until they were back in Foxglove. Y/N's whereabouts were classified now.

"I'm worried he might hurt himself if something happens to her," Hyuna whispered.

"He might, even if he doesn't know," Hoseok replied. "We're not meant to be apart from our mates for this long. He must be going insane."

Their words echoed the fears I'd been trying to bury. I clenched my fists under the table, feeling the rough wood grain beneath my fingers, focusing on the tavern's hum of voices and clinking glasses. Out there, life went on, uninterrupted. But here, in our little corner, everything felt like it was standing still.

Whether we liked it or not, the three of us would be on the front lines.

And everyone knew I might not make it.

No one wanted to admit it.

Hoseok broke the silence with a sigh. "Yoongi," he said quietly, "have you thought about what happens after all this? After the war?"

The question hit me harder than I expected. Survival had become everything—the only thing. Thinking beyond it felt strange. I wasn't sure I'd see the end of it. With my eyesight the way it was, I felt weak, at a major disadvantage. Magic was helpful, but without the confidence to use it, it was useless.

Most of my spells fizzled out lately, and I was too frustrated and upset to keep trying.

"I know with your eyes, fighting might be tough," Hoseok continued, not noticing how still I'd become. "I'd understand if you wanted to stay back, maybe help out at the palace with Sol. She's a bit immature at times, but she's a sweet girl. You'd be good for her."

I stopped listening.

I couldn't be stuck on the sidelines. I wasn't meant to be there. I was a strong fighter—the best at night by a long shot. Jin might have more brute strength, his energy electric and full of fire, but I was just as deadly.

I could make the ground split in two. I could turn blades of grass into vines strong enough to break steel. I could summon a hurricane with a whisper. I could do so many things if they'd let me.

If I could let myself.

Then the sound of screaming rushed in my ears, and a cold sweat broke out across my skin.

I needed air.

I managed to get outside, bumping into a few chairs and tables on the way. The cool breeze hit my face, and I leaned back against the weathered wall, letting the cold ground me. It cut through the fog in my head, the chilly morning a relief from the tavern's stuffiness.

The smell of blood and ash had filled the air, screams and the clash of steel blurring together. I remembered the weight of their stares, how hard it was to breathe, the sharpness of their blades. The elves had charged us swiftly, mercilessly. I'd fought, felt the sting of cuts I barely noticed through the adrenaline. I could still see the glow of that elf's purple eyes as he reached out and covered my face. And then, in one blinding moment, all I felt was searing, burning pain.

I had bested him in the end, but fighting after that had been nearly impossible. The only reason I'd been able to call out to Y/N was because things hadn't gotten as bad as they eventually would. While I was in the palace with Enver and Namjoon, everything went black. The small bit of vision I'd recovered was thanks to the countless healing spells everyone had tried on me.

I met Sam during that time—when everything was blurry and upside down. She told everyone the "shining" had its advantages, but that my body needed to heal on its own. Not many survive the initial burning, she'd said, and we'd have to wait and see what became of me. It took months for the full effects to settle in, but she could already tell my vision was adjusting to the dark. Each day, my eyes became more metallic, turning silver as they healed. She said the grayscale was a good thing.

I didn't believe her. Not at all.

Sam befriended me out of some morbid curiosity about what would happen to the little witch who survived elf magic. Now, she wanted to sleep with me. Quietus were strange creatures, but I'd come to adore Sam and all her odd quirks.

"Yoongi?"

I turned, steadying myself against the rough wall. Hoseok's footsteps were careful, like he didn't want to startle me. I hadn't even heard him come outside.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, concern threading through his words.

"I just... needed a minute." I tried to keep my voice steady. "I'm easily overwhelmed lately. Apologize to Hyuna for me. That was really rude."

Hoseok was silent for a moment, then I felt his hand on my shoulder—warm and grounding. "We're all carrying more than we should," he said gently. "You can talk to me. Maybe it'll help. What does it feel like?"

A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "What are you referring to? My eyes or the nightmares?"

"The nightmares." His voice softened. "I know enough about your condition. I just want to know about you right now."

I shook my head, pushing my glasses further up my nose. The sun was bothering my eyes even more out here, but I barely noticed. Everything was too bright, too sharp.

"It feels like they never stop," I admitted. "Even when my eyes are open, they keep happening. Sometimes I don't know what's real anymore. It's... frightening."

Hoseok took a deep breath beside me. "Hyuna's been having the same issue," he said, leaning against the wall next to me. "Waking up screaming my name. When we got separated, she barely noticed, but seeing me hurt like that was horrible for her. Her friends died. Both of my parents died. It's been really hard."

I hadn't realized he'd lost his family. I knew his older sister was still around the village. The Jungs were good at covering their pain, it seemed. I reached out, my hands fumbling until they found his shoulder—maybe a bit too close to his neck, but he didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling his fingers brush against my hand before enveloping it. His hands were large and warm—scorching, almost. I didn't know how Y/N dealt with it; it felt like I might melt. "I didn't realize. I would have gone to the funeral."

He shook his head. "We couldn't have proper funerals for anyone. Too many bodies. They burned them and gave the ashes to Ji-woo. We're too afraid to display them right now. They could get destroyed in another fight."

"I can charm them," I blurted out. "Make the porcelain sturdier. I can't make it unbreakable—charming isn't really my specialty; that's Y/N's thing. But I'm good enough to give you some peace of mind."

"We'd appreciate that," Hoseok said, squeezing my hand. "Thank you."

Bridd's absence gnawed at me. If she were here, she'd promise Hoseok and anyone else with a vase of ashes that they'd never break again as soon as she got her hands on them. Funny—we used to tease her and Wendy for struggling with defensive magic. Wendy said she didn't believe in violence but knew enough to defend herself if needed. Y/N was even less into it, but she was so resourceful she scared even the best fighters among us.

I'd never seen someone make fire so quickly and easily before. A natural talent, my mother had said. It was her only truly offensive attack, but even I could admit her protective spells were where she truly shined. Healing, shields, and all the strange and whimsical spells she made up to escape quickly and quietly—they were fascinating.

My heart felt heavier.

"What happened between Bridd and Jimin?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had haunted me since she left.

We all knew the gist: an argument that got out of hand, and Y/N had a really bad day. She left in a flurry of emotions and disappeared. Many of us were quick to blame Jimin for her leaving, but when details about Sol being the catalyst emerged, that blame shifted.

I felt bad for the girl. She didn't think Y/N would run off and hurt herself. I understood she was trying, in some ways, to get her to stay by making sure the one person who could convince her not to go was extremely against the whole idea. Unfortunately, she didn't know my friend all that well and ended up sending her packing even sooner than planned.

Sol was a child. Eighteen was barely an adult, and she'd been pampered and treated like a princess her entire life. What did anyone expect? For her to be mature and handle things like a seasoned warrior? Not likely. Especially not when she had such a sweet and bubbly husband like Taehyung, who just wanted to please her.

They still were hardly speaking.

Hoseok sighed heavily. "It's complicated," he said. "They argued about Sol, about her leaving. Bridd was trying to protect him, and Jimin pushed for answers. Things got heated, and they both said things they regretted. But Jimin..." He paused, his voice dropping. "He's a mess without her. Regret doesn't even cover it."

"I know. I guess I'm just trying to figure out what everyone is doing about the elves. Thelma hasn't been very helpful."

"The council meets daily, but we can't get on the same page. Namjoon, Jungkook, and I are doing most of the talking. Jimin's making hundreds of war plans for every scenario you could think of. There are so many maps in that room. Bo and Kim are trying to ease the minds of the older folks. Taehyung is shockingly level-headed, working with Jimin to iron out details."

"And Sol? Is she just hiding while we pick up the pieces?" I couldn't help the sharpness in my voice.

No one had seen the Luna since her wedding. It wasn't a good look, and when we heard about Jungkook being her personal guard through all this, we nearly stormed the palace to demand why she thought she deserved special treatment. Heji had calmed us down, but dissent for Sol spread through the village like wildfire.

Hoseok's grip tightened on my hand. "It's not that simple, Yoongi. They're keeping a close eye on her in the palace. She's trying to keep her family safe and deal with everything she's set in motion."

"That doesn't excuse her," I snapped, anger spilling over. "It doesn't excuse any of this. We're out here fighting while she sits behind walls. And Y/N..." My voice cracked, the ache in my chest almost too much to bear.

"Yoongi." Hoseok's voice was firm, cutting through my anger. "We're all in this mess, every one of us. The girl is having a mental breakdown in there. She can't even get out of bed anymore. Taehyung won't speak to her, and she's miserable. She tried... harming herself a few days ago, and now they have guards watching her around the clock. Blaming Sol won't bring Bridd back or make this any easier."

"I know." The anger faded, leaving only emptiness behind. "But it feels like everything's falling apart, and I'm completely useless. You know no one expects me to survive the next fight."

Hoseok let go of my hand, and I dropped mine from his shoulder. I could see his silhouette leaning back against the wall beside me. The light made everything an overwhelming flood of white and gold, edges blurring and details lost in the glare. I hoped I would find something better than these stupid human inventions with time.

The edges allowed sunlight in depending on which way my head turned and the coating on them wasn’t as dark and thick as I would have liked. Yet another thing Y/N would have figured out how to fix. She had the most creative spell ideas out of everyone I had ever met.

She might have even been able to find a way to get my eyes back to normal given enough time.

"You're stronger than you think," Hoseok said gently. "You made it through that battle. You're still here, and that means something, even if it doesn't feel like it right now."

“I’m here for now,” I rebuttal, unhappily.

“You heard Samanya, sooner or later your eyes will be better than any of ours at night. Then, you’ll be the most useful person in the entire village.”

“Sure.”

The street around us was still, the morning quiet making me far more unnerved. Birds did not chirp anymore. Most of the deer were in hiding. Insects and the occasional frog were the only sounds. At that moment, it felt like we were in a bubble, the noise and weight of the war held at bay just for a second.

“Is Sol alright?” I asked.

“Doing better,” Hoseok huffed. “She’s not really sure what she’s supposed to be doing, and no one is willing to let her help with anything now. Bo isn’t letting her in on any of the war meetings, Namjoon’s father thinks she’s too stupid and frail to be any help, and I think Tae’s just too overwhelmed and overloaded to step in between them.”

“Still not talking?” I asked.

Hoseok shook his head. “He talked to her last night, and he’s been trying to spend more time with her, but Sol’s not being very receptive to him right now. Koda has been with her mostly, and she said Sol hasn’t eaten or spoken for days. Weeks if you want to count her just sipping on water and force feeding herself crackers and bread. She looks horrible.”

“And Taehyung?”

“Worried,” Hoseok cleared his throat. “Sorry, I have a cough. He’s just spread too thin right now, and no one is being very helpful. Jimin, maybe, but he’s too distracted to really give much advice. It’s why I think you going and being around Sol might help.”

I laughed, “And why would I be the ultimate solution to all of their problems?”

“Because you’re nice, and Sol needs a friend.”

I shook my head. The thought of spending time with the girl who was the reason my best friend left was not appealing to me, but I did understand where Hoseok was coming from. Even if I did not particularly care for her, it wasn’t nice to hear that she had attempted to take her own life. No one should feel like that is their only option.

Maybe I will stop by one of these days. See if I could get the girl a decent meal. Gods knows she was already skinny enough before. Has to be practically wasting away now.

I heard the tavern door open and slam shut. Heavy footsteps fell and were coming for the two of us. A good guess was that it was Hyuna. Peeking over Hoseok’s shoulder, I saw his wife.

She was tall and slim, just as skin and bones as her husband, with long hair. I remember meeting her once or twice before, but couldn’t remember the color of her hair. It was brown, not too light or dark, but that was all. Her skin was dark, the color reminded me of a bronze-gold Viola. She was pretty. I remember thinking she was pretty.

Right now, she just looked like a stick figure drawn in ink that was smudged with the side of a hand.

Hyuna’s voice broke the silence as she joined us, her tone steady and sure. “Are you alright?” Her hand found mine, warm and solid. “You looked shaken up.”

I swallowed hard, nodding as some of the tightness in my chest eased. “I’m alright, Hyuna,” I said, my voice thick. “Just a few things I’d rather not think about.”

“I have those, too,” she replied, her eyes kind.

The morning air was crisp and biting, but with my friends beside me, I felt a spark of warmth, a small flicker of hope breaking through the shadows. We’d lost so much, and there was still more to face, but standing there, I felt like maybe we had enough to hold on to.

“Come here, baby,” Hoseok muttered, grabbing hold of his wife. Hyuna melted into his side. He looked back at me. “We need to get back to the palace. Hyuna’s scheduled to watch Sol in an hour and I need to get back to the council room before Jimin rips Bo’s head off.”

“No problem, man.”

“Will you be alright?” Hyuna asked.

“Always am,” I replied.

They each gave me a small hug before heading off towards the palace.

I leaned against the cold, rough wall of the building, trying to catch my breath as my mind spiraled through everything weighing on us—the war, the losses, the unknowns stretching out like an endless road. I closed my eyes, hoping for a moment of peace, but the darkness clung to me, seeping into every corner of my mind.

The sound of footsteps pulled me back to reality. I turned toward them, and a flicker of relief went through me when I saw Sam and Jungkook. I couldn't see if they looked as rough as I did, but it didn’t really matter to me. We had fun last night and I felt bad for possibly ruining that light atmosphere we’d been able to hold onto for a few hours. Hoseok and Hyuna had most likely run into them on their way out. It was the only way either of them would have known I was here.

“Hey,” Sam said, her voice soft. “You okay?”

I forced a small smile, though it felt like it could break at any second. “Just needed some air,” I replied, my voice sounding as worn out as I felt. “How about you two? Holding up?”

Jungkook shrugged, his jaw tight, his usual spark dimmed. “Same as everyone else, I guess. Just… trying to make sense of it. Hangovers don't mix well with war meetings. Happy Jung is relieving me. I hate seeing my cousin like that.”

Sam took a small step closer. “Hyuna told us you were here,” she said gently, her voice carrying the same sadness that weighed on all of us. “She told me what happened. Are you sure you’re alright? She made it seem like you freaked out.”

I swallowed, the ache in my chest tightening. “Yeah,” I managed, barely above a whisper. “I’m just… everyone keeps talking about Bridd, and it brings back a lot of memories. I hate that she’s not here right now. The witches aren’t united and nothing is getting done. I’m pissed off and sad.”

The three of us stood there, caught in a silence heavy with grief. Y/N had been more than just a friend to me—she’d been my anchor, hope, and strength when I needed it most. And now, that strength was gone. She had made me feel like I was worth something. Like I could be something more than a conquest. She was the only person that we grew up with who made me feel like I was more than just a piece of meat. Nixie and Delta had been helpful as well, but the romance always left room for doubt in my mind. With Y/N I knew she just really loved and cared about me with or without strings attached.

She was like that with all of us. The most well-respected and adored little witch as far as the eye could see. And we all knew it. Jin, Wendy, our families, and the little witches—big and small—were all aware of the gaping hole we kept avoiding talking about. We needed her here right now, and nothing Thelma or anyone else did could change that fact.

The fact that Enver and Thelma might have known she would leave prior to any of this happening made my stomach churn uncomfortably.

“Have I ever told you I talked to Jin before?” Sam finally broke the silence.

“No,” My face scrunched up. “Why would you do that?”

“It was back when your vision was at its worst. Before Bridd even woke up.”

“Oh,” I said back, dumbly. Jin never acted like he even knew Sam existed half the time. The fact that he’d spoken with her at all was news to me. Wendy couldn’t have known about it. She would have told me. She wouldn’t have been able to help herself.

Wendy was bad with secrets. Jin, too.

Huh. Maybe I didn’t know him as well as I thought I had.

“What’d he say?” I asked.

“I told him I was worried about what would happen to everyone if she never woke up,” Sam’s voice was like butter. “That hope within your people would die out as quickly as it went in. He told me that Bridd used to say hope was like a stubborn weed. You could try to pull it out as many times as you wanted, but it would always come back, even stronger.” She let out a soft laugh, more sad than happy. “She woke up, of course. The whole conversation didn’t really mean much of anything afterwards, but I can’t help but think about that sometimes. Because she was right. You could see how defeated she was—her eyes couldn’t lie, but she still clung to the hope of finding something better and bringing it back. An impossible task and she looked at it with nothing but mild annoyance and disdain.”

Sam laughed in disbelief. “And then she went off on her own like a fucking lunatic. She left this place thinking that her fiancé hated her, her friends betrayed her, and that she would die out there one way or another—and she still went. She wanted all of us to live even if she died. She had hope that she’d make it far enough to find Naida and whatever happened after didn’t matter.”

“She believed in that hope, even when we couldn’t,” Jungkook added, his voice raw. “She made us believe, too.”

I nodded, the sharp ache of missing her settling deep. “She wouldn’t want us to give up,” I said, feeling the truth of it in my bones. “She fought for this—for us. I can’t let her down.”

Sam reached out, her hand resting on my shoulder, grounding me. “Your friend is as crazy as Queen Terra was, and that woman stood tall against the elves. A mass genocide and she was still screaming. That’s what your girl is doing, and we will be doing the same.”

Jungkook moved closer, placing his hand on my other shoulder, his grip strong. “For Bridd,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination, “and for everyone we’ve lost.”

Bridd had given everything she had to protect us, to stand for something bigger than herself. And even though she was gone, her spirit lived on in us, in the bonds we shared, in the strength that kept us going. The road ahead was dark, full of uncertainty, but we’d walk it together.

As the sun slowly rose, casting light across the worn cobblestones, I felt a hint of warmth—a reminder that dawn always comes after the darkest nights. We couldn’t change the past or erase what we’d lost, but we could honor Bridd’s memory by holding onto hope and fighting on. She’d left us with that much: a spark of resilience even in the deepest dark.

“For Bridd,” I murmured.

And for once, the light didn’t bother me so much.

I stood by the river, watching as the last of the sunlight hit the water. The river sparkled, flowing east where it would inevitably end up in the Talay Ocean. Around me, the sky was deepening. I had never realized how much I had taken sunsets for granted until I could no longer watch the colors swirl together. It was twilight now, and the sky would be streaked with crimson and plum. Sunsets this close to the water were always the most beautiful.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to reach for my magic. It used to come so easily, just a flick of my wrist, a thought. But now, it felt like pulling teeth. The light that once danced at my fingertips was nothing more than a weak spark, flickering out before it even formed. Frustration twisted in my chest, sharp and tight.

Nothing really was the same anymore.

Clashing metal, the roar of flames, blood, wolves at my feet, swirling smoke clouding my vision, white hair, violet eyes, burning, and then the screaming.

Always the screaming.

I tried to shake off the memory, forcing myself to focus on the gentle sounds of the river. It was a futile distraction at best. Bridd’s face surfaced in my mind, and I felt the sting of her absence all over again. I could almost hear Jin’s laughter, taunting me with each failure, each flicker of magic that sputtered out.

“Not so hot now, Min,” his voice was distorted and dripping with more malice than my friend was capable of.

I clenched my fists, trying to channel the frustration into something useful—anything that might remind me I hadn’t lost myself entirely. I flicked my wrist. Nothing came.

“Come on,” I muttered under my breath. “You can do this.” But all I got were a few faint sparks that faded into nothing. Every failure widened the hollow ache inside, gnawing at my resolve.

The riverbank was too quiet. I wondered if it was as lonely as I was. I groaned, kicking my feet and connecting with a few stray rocks. The sun had finally set, and I ripped the stupid glasses off my face. With each passing day, things became clearer. Tonight, the lines were sharper, and the details between the trees a bit more noticeable. Of course, still no color had come back. Cadoc said it most likely never would.

Tears welled up in my eyes. My entire chest tightened with all the frustration, anger, and hopelessness I felt deep within me. I was a failure. I was nothing. I was...

I wished someone was there to break me out of my own head for a while.

A rustling in the bushes made me jump, my body tensing instinctively. But it was only a bird, flapping away, leaving me alone again. I sighed, looking up at the sky. At least I could make out the stars again. I looked around, hoping to find Scorpius.

I found it tucked away, forming a ‘J.’ I smiled. Antares was the easiest to spot, a faintly red and brightly lit star. The only thing that could rival the other star called Mars. I was not sure how they got their names, or when, but it was interesting to look at them all. This, at least, I could still do.

“Today is a new day,” I mumbled, tearing my eyes away from the sky.

I tried the spell again, but again, nothing happened. Again. A faint spark. All I wanted to do was a very simple, very basic electricity spell. Each failed attempt felt like a punch to the gut. I hated being reduced to this weak and pathetic state where the very thing I was born to do felt impossible.

I flicked my wrist. “Leohtfæt.”

A white-hot bolt shot out, but instead of flicking out like it should have, it exploded in a small burst just after leaving the tip of my index finger. I shouted, pain shooting through my arm. A murder of crows flew up from the surrounding trees in a flurry. None of them made a sound.

I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I let out a shout—raw and loud, breaking the quiet. I kicked at the dirt, wishing I could do something—anything—to shake this feeling. I was in a cage, a small songbird, and I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to sing anymore. Beside me, the river kept flowing, steady and indifferent. I stood beside it, stuck.

“Get it together,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You’re stronger than this.”

I didn’t believe myself.

I took a few steps back from the river’s edge until I felt the solid ground under my feet. It felt more reassuring than the wet mud had. My magic was still somewhere inside of me; I just needed to shake off the fear and regroup. I was able to make a bolt.

It blew up in my face, but it was more than I’d been able to do in a few weeks.

The river glowed underneath the moonlight, the world around me softening, muted. I leaned against a twisted tree, still caught up in the mess of my own frustration, when I heard her voice.

“Yoongi?” Sam called out.

It was soft, like she wasn’t sure if she should interrupt. I turned toward the sound and was struck by how much clearer she looked tonight. Her hair cascaded down her back, dark and perfectly straight, and she was wearing some kind of loose-fitting dress. I had never been able to see her features so clearly before. Bathed in a gentle, dream-like glow, she stood out against the trees like some sort of goddess.

Humans might even mistake her for one of their angels.

“I thought I might find you here.”

I tried to smile, though it probably looked tired. “Hey,” I said, my voice as worn as I felt. “Didn’t realize I’d been out here that long.”

Her footsteps were soft as she came closer. She was taking great care not to startle me. Footsteps and loud noises sometimes brought me back, and I’d be unable to speak for a few minutes. Her lips were pulled down into a half-frown. They were plump and full, and I rejoiced in being able to know that about her.

Such a far cry from a few days before on Mi-Jeong’s back porch.

“I just came from Jimin’s. He’s... well, he’s managing. Sort of,” she said quietly. “Namjoon and I kept him company for a while, but he ended up slipping out a few minutes ago.”

I swallowed, guilt biting deeper. “Is he alright?”

She hesitated, and I saw her shifting uncomfortably, searching for the right thing to say. I had never been able to see her squirm before. “Not really,” she admitted. “But he’s trying.” She found a rather large rock near the river’s edge and sat down. “Doesn’t sound like the magic training is going very well.”

I nodded, going over to sit beside her. She made room for me before leaning her head against my shoulder. Her small touches of affection were growing more common between us, but they did not bother me. In fact, I welcomed them. Even if I knew she had just been with Namjoon—I flushed as I thought of him—it never made me feel uncomfortable. If anything, it only made me want her beside me more.

It was almost like touching him.

“Nothing?” she asked, so gently that I almost wanted to cry.

“Yeah,” I said, lifting my hands. “I got a few sparks here and there, but it’s hit or miss. I need to start testing a few of the other simple spells and see if it’s just my defensive magic that’s clogged up.”

She didn’t speak right away. Her head stayed on my shoulder, and her hand came to claim one of my own. She pulled it down to rest in her lap. Her legs felt cold against my skin. Her thumb gently traced my knuckles.

“That’s better than before,” she said finally. “I think your body is still a bit afraid after what happened. Might be trying to keep you safe.”

Frustration spiked again, making my voice come out sharper than I intended. “It’s not that simple, Sam. Bodies don’t do that.”

She didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. Instead, she squeezed my hand a little tighter. “No, it’s not simple. None of this is, but your body is far more complex than you think it is.”

I felt her lips against my neck. They were cold and wet. I shivered.

“It happened to me just after the Sarkan invasion,” she whispered in my ear. “I was a young girl, but I remember how afraid I was. I couldn’t do anything for years afterward. I felt just as human as the people who stole our land. So many of us were deeply affected.”

She sighed, shifting back to rest against my shoulder again. “I don’t think you’re all that different. King Castor, who wasn’t a king at the time, told us that our minds like to play tricks on us to protect themselves. Fear is the most powerful weapon in the universe. Have I ever told you about my time with the dragons?”

“No.”

She chuckled. “A story for another time, I suppose. They’re strong and brave people, but they understand much about the body that the rest of us don’t. His wife, Queen Affra, said she knew why iron hurt the fae people but no one ever believed her. It’s too long ago now to remember it, but I wish we’d taken them at their word sooner. It’s the only reason their numbers were able to recover so quickly after the end of the war.”

“I was always told it was because they fucked like rabbits.”

“Well, there’s that, too.”

We both shared a quiet laugh.

She slid her hand up my arm, her fingers tickling my skin, before she took hold of my bicep. “Being strong doesn’t mean you’re not scared,” she said. “It just means you keep going anyway.”

“Are you scared?” I asked, looking down at her face.

It was even easier to see it now. Her eyes were hooded, her nose too pointy and thin, and her face a perfect oval. She reminded me of a very beautiful fish. I leaned down and kissed her between her eyes. She hummed in contentment.

“More than I’ve ever been before.”

I swallowed, her honesty touching something deep inside me, a part of me I hadn’t let anyone near. “I don’t want to drag everyone down,” I said, my voice breaking.

“You’re not dragging anyone down,” she said, her voice fierce, eyes blazing. “Not me, at least. You matter, Yoongi. More than you even realize.”

Something warm flickered in my chest. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry me.”

She kissed my cheek this time. “I care about you, Yoongi,” she said. It sounded like a promise. “And that’s not something you get to decide for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

I let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

She smiled, and I wished that I knew what color her lips were. Were they like strawberries or the dusty roses in my mother’s garden in Clarcton? “You don’t need to thank me,” she said softly. “Just let me be here, okay?”

I nodded, and we let the silence settle around us. The river murmured, the leaves rustled above, and as night crept in, I felt the gentle hum of life moving forward. Faintly, the crickets were beginning to chirp.

The darkness wasn’t gone—it never really was. It still hovered there, the screams clinging to my mind. But with Sam’s hand in mine, something shifted, and I could vaguely see through the cracks in the trees. They weren't very big, but they were just enough to let a little light in. I took a deep breath, letting the cool night air settle me, and felt more sure of things than I had in a long time.

“You’re right,” I said quietly, my voice a little stronger. “I’m fucking terrified and I don’t know what to do with all of these feelings. I’m so lost and scared, Sam.”

“One step at a time, okay? You’ll figure it out eventually.”

I nodded, feeling gratitude I couldn’t put into words.

After a moment, Sam’s tone shifted, her voice taking on that playful edge I’d come to know and love. Did I love Sam? I couldn’t be in love with her, but I guess I did feel something akin to love. “So, I’ve got some gossip for you,” she said.

My curiosity sparked, tugging me out of the heavy thoughts weighing me down. Shifting, I bent over. Sam giggled childishly. I dipped my fingers into the river, feeling the cool water wash over them, and the residual ache from the spell was gone. I heard her shuffling around until she leaned in beside me, her warmth pushing back against the chill of the night.

Sam wasn’t as warm as me, and nowhere near as warm as the wolves, but I expected an air elemental to be freezing. She said when she “merged.” That’s what they called it when they became more air than solid. Merging with the atmosphere, or whatever Cadoc had said.

I rarely spoke with him, and when I did, I didn’t pay attention. He was nice enough, but boring to converse with. Sam said he wasn’t around much anymore since he was the official diplomat between Queen Nerezza and the Elder Council. Lorcan was their link with General Drystan, and Sam was Jarisa’s, the King’s Consort’s, closest friend. A few other quietus had joined us here in Foxglove, but they were the least experienced warriors they had. From what Sam told me, her king and queen were still wary of working closely with the wolves. Y/N fleeing only added to their suspicion. If she were able to come back with Naida or Khione with her, the rest of the quietus would come as well.

Where Naida went, it was far more likely for the fire dragons to come as well, though no one seemed particularly confident that would be the case. Fire elementals enjoyed keeping to themselves.

“What’s the tea?” I asked, my tone lighter.

“Turns out Ji-Hyun was the one who tipped Sol off about Bridd,” she said in a low, conspiratorial voice. “Taehyung only confirmed it when she backed him into a corner. She didn’t really believe him until then, but whatever he told her is what she must have told Jimin. I’ve met with Taehyung a few times and he seems too sweet to make up lies.”

“Why would he do that?” I muttered, not really expecting an answer that would make any of this better. “I’ve never understood his disdain for Y/N. No one she’s ever met has disliked her so quickly, and even if they did, they’d get over it once they talked to her. She’s quite likable once you get past the quick temper and awkwardness.”

Sam leaned in closer, her breath warm against the cool air. “Lorcan overheard Ji-Hyun arguing with his wife,” she whispered. “Ji-Hyun’s best friend died in the siege, and he blames your little bird for not warning them. He just assumed the worst from the beginning, and he’s too stubborn to squash the beef. He’s angry, Yoongi, and telling Sol was his way of lashing out.”

I clenched my jaw, feeling bitterness rise. Ji-Hyun’s grudge was like poison, and his need for revenge was threatening to tear apart everything we’d fought so hard to hold together. “Great,” I muttered sarcastically. “Just what we need. Another reason for everyone to turn on each other.”

Sam sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Exactly. Everyone’s already on edge, and Lorcan thinks Jimin doesn’t know yet. He’s been around his brother too often for him to think he went behind his back in that way.”

I stared out at the river, watching the water flow. I could picture Jimin’s face once he learned the whole truth of things—the anger that would rise up in him, fierce and unchecked. “If Jimin finds out,” I whispered, the weight of it settling on my chest, “it wouldn’t surprise me if he killed Ji-Hyun. And that would be the end of whatever stability we have left.”

“That’s why we can’t let it get to that point,” Sam said, her voice sharper now. “We have to handle this carefully. One wrong move, and everything could fall apart.”

I let out a long breath. “But what can we really do, Sam? The Parks aren’t exactly known for subtlety, and Ji-Hyun just has to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, and he’ll have to deal with Jimin and whoever else feels some type of way about Y/N leaving.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But we can watch, we can listen, and we can wait. If the opportunity presents itself, we’ll talk to him. Unfortunately, this is the smallest little village I’ve ever been to, and I doubt anyone can keep their mouths shut for that long. Wouldn’t surprise me if he already knew and was just saving face.”

I turned toward her. “It would explain why he’s staying away from his mom’s house.”

She nudged my shoulder, a smile clear in her voice. “Look at you being smart.”

A real smile crept onto my face. “No one’s ever liked me for my rugged good looks.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you have both, Mr. Min.”

After a beat, I snapped out of the lovestruck, dumb, idiot stare I was in. Was I in love with Sam? No, Yoongi, you’re just infatuated with a girl who’s being nice to you. Not rocket science.

“So he’s punishing Y/N for something she couldn’t control?” I shook my head. “If you haven’t noticed, my jaw is still firmly in place.”

Sam nodded, her expression hardening. “Yeah, but he’s misjudged how this will play out. Callisto isn’t taking it lightly either. If she finds out about Ji-Hyun’s involvement, things could get… ugly.”

That made me laugh. “If there’s anything that girl can do, it’s shit-talk with the best of them. I miss having her at the house.”

“One of the more entertaining people I’ve met here,” Sam agreed. “The other morning she called Namjoon an ‘absolute walnut.’ And then when Ji-Hyun laughed, she made the funniest faux-surprised face I have ever seen and shouted, ‘Oh my God! It Speaks!’ Lorcan and I were cracking up.”

“Damn spitfire,” I chuckled.

“You’d think she was a dragon the way she talks to these wolves.”

“Brave little human.”

“Brave, indeed.”

The evening deepened, stars twinkling brightly above us. It was quieter than usual. The crickets were a small hum in the background, and the frogs were giving us some space. The birds were in the trees, sitting silently and watching. I wondered if Jin and his family had spoken with them. We’d know when something was nearby that way. It would be smart strategizing. I’d talk to my mother about that and see what she knew.

Maybe I could go with Thelma and see what I could do to help. Being Sol’s babysitter popped up in my head, but it didn’t feel like it would be much help. I glanced at Sam and felt my heart melting.

She really was the most important thing in my life right now.

“Thanks, Sam,” I murmured, my voice catching as I looked away. It didn’t feel like enough, but I meant it. “For sticking with me through all of this.”

She gave the back of my head a gentle peck. “No need to thank me, baby,” she said, her voice as steady as ever. “We’re in this together. Besides,” she added, a little smile creeping into her tone, “you’re the only thing that makes me want to come back to this shitty little village anymore. Honestly, I would have only come to see Joon and leave. Leave Cadoc to do all of the bureaucratic bullshit.”

A laugh escaped me, breaking through the quiet. “So we balance each other out, huh? Fire and ice?”

“Fire and ice,” she echoed, her eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of mischief. “But honestly, I think you’re more earth, and I’m made from… you know, air.”

“Smart ass.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And I did.

I stared into my drink, the amber liquid swirling in slow circles, like it was trying to keep up with the chaos in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was still there, still in that battle, still surrounded by everyone I loved. But it wasn’t real, it never had been. It was just a nightmare.

In my dream, I was the last one standing. Everyone else had fallen—one by one—until it was just me, surrounded by their bodies, faces twisted in pain, fading into the smoke and ash. I’d thought I could protect them, thought I could stop the inevitable. But then the elves charged, all of them, eyes cold and faces unforgiving. I fought, I fought until my muscles gave out, but it was no use. Alone, I couldn’t stop them. And I couldn’t save the people who mattered most.

I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to remember how I felt, standing there with my sword in my hand, a useless piece of steel against the weight of the world. But it kept creeping back into my mind, dragging me back into the nightmare, every little detail too vivid, too real. I didn’t know how long I’d been walking, but somehow, my feet had carried me to the tavern in the middle of the night. The place was dark, almost empty, just the kind of place I could lose myself in.

I ordered a drink. And then another. And another. The whiskey burned going down, but it didn’t burn enough to erase the feeling of emptiness in my chest. The same emptiness that had been there in the dream, the same cold weight of knowing I was the only one left.

The tavern was its usual self—a loud, dim blur of voices and clinking glasses, the smell of stale beer hanging in the air. But none of it mattered. I could barely hear it over the pounding in my head. The world outside seemed far away, like I was in a different place entirely, a place where none of it had ever happened, where I hadn’t failed them all.

I watched the glass in my hand, the whiskey still swirling in lazy circles. No matter how much I drank, it wouldn’t stop the dream from coming back. It wouldn’t bring them back. It wouldn’t fix what was broken inside me.

Then the door swung open, and a familiar laugh sliced through the noise, grating and sharp. I glanced up to see Ji-Hyun stepping into the dim light, his mouth twisted into that smug, careless grin he always wore. He spotted me right away, and instead of looking the other way, like any decent person would, he headed straight for me. My chest tightened, and I could already feel my hand curling into a fist around my glass.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” he said, sliding onto the stool beside me without an invitation. “Didn’t expect to find you out, Yoongi.”

I forced the anger down, keeping my eyes on my drink. “I don’t expect to find you anywhere.”

Ji-Hyun laughed. “Cali keeps me on a tight leash, I’ll admit it. Got lucky tonight, though. She’s helping her momma knit some new clothes for the copiae, and I was able to sneak out.”

“Poor me.”

“I’m not that bad, hyung.”

The honorific was a surprise to me. As long as I had known the kid, he had been a walking dichotomy. Arrogant and condescending, but respectful and always keeping his manners. Still, he had never been quite as kind to the witches. I think our loyalty to Y/N didn’t make his life much easier, especially when his camp of dissenters quickly grew scarce and then disappeared altogether. He was the only person in town besides Bo who didn’t like Y/N, and even he sometimes was quick to criticize Bo’s more “ridiculous” reasoning for being so anti-Y/N.

Jealousy over someone else was petty. The death of a friend and three dozen village members was more than enough for Ji-Hyun’s open disgust at people like us who still loved her.

He was a very black-and-white thinker, and yet there was some space for nuance.

For example, he had never called me “Hyung” before, despite the fact that I’m three years older than him.

“No,” I took a sip of my drink. “You’re pretty fucking terrible.”

That only made him laugh harder. Had to admit, he looked a lot like his older brother when he did that.

“Only because you’re blinded by loyalty and I’m not,” he flagged down the bartender. “Not to Y/N at least. I am to my people, and I have a different opinion than everyone else.”

“Because you’re wrong.”

“No,” he stopped talking and gave Yala his order before turning back to me. “Think about it from my perspective. She saw the future, knew something bad was going to happen, and didn’t tell anyone but her loyalists. One of them being you. Don’t you see how that could piss off a guy?”

I had tried having this conversation with him before, but it had never gone this well. It was weird to think I’d thought this was going to be a fight. Maybe he was more like Jimin than I gave him credit for.

“She didn’t see the future,” I sighed, finishing off my glass. “Y/N can’t see the future. She was getting possessed by spirits who weren’t able to show her very much. It was vague, and she only told me because Thelma—the woman raising the real future-seer—came by and said something bad was coming. We should all be mad at Thelma if we’re using your metrics.”

“But she owed my brother that loyalty and respect, and she didn’t give it to him.”

Oh, that was fucking rich.

“You are such a fucking hypocrite,” I muttered, my voice low. I hoped he’d take the hint and leave, but he just laughed. “You don’t get to say shit like that and expect me to take you seriously.”

“Oh, I don’t?” He leaned in closer, his breath reeking of arrogance. “Last time I checked, I was free to say whatever I wanted. She wasn’t exactly the saint you all like to pretend she was.”

That was it. I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I straightened up, turning to face him, letting all the anger I’d been holding back show. “You’re one to talk. You want to talk about loyalty and respect to your brother? It’s your fault this entire shitshow went to hell in the first place.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back, completely unfazed. “Oh, please, don’t put that on me. What did I do, exactly?”

I clenched my jaw, struggling to keep calm. “You told Sol about Y/N’s plan after you snuck around like the dirty rat you are. You went behind your brother’s back and fed lies to the most immature and naive person in this entire village to lie about his fiancé. It’s your fault the story was twisted, your fault she ran to your brother, and you sat back like a coward and let it happen. If you were so fucking loyal to your brother, you would have understood that he loved that girl and you would have been there with him.”

Ji-Hyun snorted, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Oh, so now I’m responsible for her choices? Bridd wanted to play hero. She got what she deserved.”

“What about when everyone said that about Callisto?” Ji-Hyun looked surprised. “Yeah, I heard all about your girl getting beat up by a few of the wolves in town after you mated with her. And you know who helped you out? Jimin. You are no better than a bully, and you ganged up on a girl who gave up her entire life and future to help your people, and then because you’re so fucking entitled, and it wasn’t good enough for you, you decided to ruin your brother’s life just to get back at her? You think we didn’t lose people? Cordelia was like a second mother to Y/N when she was younger, and she had to find her dead body. She saved Hoseok’s life!”

“And none of that would have happened if she had said something.”

And then I snapped.

My fist connected with his jaw, and for a split second, everything felt right again. Like I was myself. Ji-Hyun stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise, but it didn't last. His face twisted with anger, and before I knew it, he grabbed my collar, his grip like iron. Then his fist met my cheek, and the world tilted. Pain exploded, but weirdly, it felt good to feel something.

The tavern erupted around us—shouts, scraping chairs, breaking glass—but it all faded into the background. All I could see was Ji-Hyun, and the anger that mirrored my own. The satisfaction of hitting him still buzzed under my skin. I wanted to swing again, to make him hurt like I was hurting.

Then someone yanked me back. Strong hands pulled me away, and I spun around, fists still clenched. It was Jimin. His eyes were hard, jaw set in that way that meant he was beyond mad. "That's enough," he said, his voice cutting through the noise. It wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be.

He held my gaze, and I felt something inside me crumble. Disappointment. That's what I saw in his eyes, and it stung more than Ji-Hyun's punch.

Ji-Hyun wiped blood from his lip, smirking. "Keep your little witch on a leash," he spat before turning and storming out. His words hung in the air, heavy and poisonous.

Jimin's grip on my arm loosened but didn't let go. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly. I didn't have an answer. Couldn't find words that made any sense.

I pulled away, my cheek throbbing, and headed back to the bar. The room spun a little, or maybe that was just me. I sank onto the stool, ignoring the bartender's wary glance. My drink was still there, so I took a long sip, letting the burn distract me.

The whispers started then. People pretending not to stare while definitely staring. Great. Just what I needed.

Ji-Hyun's words replayed in my head. He'd called me pathetic. Said she didn't care about me. No matter how much I tried to drown it out, it clung to me like smoke.

Bridd would've smacked me upside the head for that stunt. Told me to stop acting like an idiot. She always knew how to pull me back when I was spiraling. But she wasn't here.

I felt the weight of Jimin's gaze before I saw him. He stood a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, expression unreadable. Part of me wanted him to say something—to yell at me, to tell me I'd screwed up. But he just sighed and walked away, leaving me with my tangled thoughts.

I stared into my glass, the amber liquid swirling like a tiny storm. Maybe Ji-Hyun was right. Maybe I was pathetic. A witch without magic is just... nothing.

The noise of the tavern pressed in—laughter, clinking glasses, snippets of conversations. It was too much. I needed air.

I slipped off the stool, the floor tilting a bit under my feet. Ignoring the curious looks, I headed for the door and stepped out into the night.

The cool air hit me, and I sucked in a deep breath. The sky stretched out above, stars scattered like thrown confetti. I walked until the sounds from the tavern faded, finding a quiet spot near an old oak tree.

I sat down on the grass, leaning back against the rough bark. The ground was damp and cool, seeping through my clothes, but I didn't care. Tilting my head back, I gazed up at the stars. They were blurry around the edges, but constant. Unchanging.

I closed my eyes, the fatigue washing over me like a wave. The fight, the anger, the emptiness—it all felt distant now. Out here, under the vast sky, I could almost pretend that things were okay.

Sleep tugged at me, and for once, I didn't fight it. I let the darkness wrap around me, pulling me under. Just for a little while, I could escape.

Taglist: @greezenini @adventures-in-bookland @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @zae007live @jimin-neverout @nikkiordonez12 @canarystwin @yamekomz @chimthicc @michiiedreamer @amorieus @mima795 @yunki-yunki-yunki

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[eveledoze]

ok I need to write a couple more thoughts because I'm just going crazy same location?

does that mean we'll see her in the shaft?

maybe N will see Doll here? since it seems this is the same location on this screenshot also It also looks like the test subjects' lockers are in the shaft. so it’s possible that N and Uzi found Nori’s locker and some evidence here

Lizzy and Thad?? FOR REAL Thad fans can rejoice, we'll see Thad again! :D but Liam lied that he was safe. actions take place outdoors, snow, lanterns, cars, flying tires and other objects due to lack of gravity

it reminded me of how everything soared in GF, and since MD will also have this, it will be EPIC

also wanted to talk about this shot. saw some people say that someone is being sacrificed here, but my first thought was this: this is the drone that had the most Solver powers (probably Nori) and because they' are're dangerous and so strong, they're restrained with chains. and oil flies around them.. dunno exactly why, but it really reminds me of how in the "Stranger Things" Eleven would bleed when she used her powers, maybe something similar is present here?

and yes, it looks like a godammit cult-

ok, this looks terrifying. I can't tell if N will just go into hunting mode for some reason (because of Cyn/Solver?) or if this is a flashback to him possibly killing Nori (since it's similar to the flashback to V killing Doll's parents. everything was red there too, V had a cross on her visor and grin)

is this a video recording of someone using a cross? at first i saw it was someone wearing gloves, so I thought it was Nori or Yeva's hands, but now I'm not sure, so it could be Uzi or Doll

okay now THIS i'm not sure that it's Sentinel's paw

The front paws of the Sentinels have a palm-like base like a drone's with little triangle, with long thin claws. The hind paws are also long and thin. the paw on the left is thicker and has thicker claws. also I have a feeling that there is a torn glove on this paw?.. but what confuses me most is that this paw burn, smoke and glitches were coming from it, just like in this scene with Uzi’s hand from episode 4. I don't think the Sentinals burn in the sun?..

also that paw from the teaser reminds me of the paws on Uzi's wings, so could it be Nori's hand (we don't know how much Solver can change a drone's body, since drones can grow organic wings with it, maybe parts of their bodies can transform?) or Nori's wing?

I don’t know who injured her eye, but she looks scared and as if betrayed

at first I thought that Doll was fighting with Uzi, since their screenshots were in a row. but it seems Doll has cleavers in her hands and someone is fighting with her with a sword? I don't think Uzi woud use a sword, so maybe it was Tessa. or this is the blade of one of the dissasembly drone. there is also fire behind her, something is burning

portal to upside-down from ST :D

I hope we get some fun flashback moments with Nori because I won't survive if the whole episode will only be about bad events-

[harleehazbinfics]

Home is where my heart is.

Chapter 4: Family Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2000+ A/N: WHERE ALREADY AT CHAPTER FOURRR AAA this concludes the life they had while they were human, but we'll still have a few flashbacks to see cuz plot. also thank you for over 1,000+ of likes and reblogs that means so much to me that you enjoy my works. i think y'all really liked the devout one lol, i'll just say now that i have plans to make it about lucifer so if you're into that please expect more and hit follow, really helps when peeps comment on stuff <33 much love, enjoy!

there were so many errors bro LMAO also I added a few paragraphs to this, so pls enjoy my scuff (edited as of Feb 20)

“I’m home~,” my husband’s voice calls out from the doorway.

Wiping my hands on my apron, I greeted him coming from the kitchen, “Al! Welcome back. How was your day?”

“Same as always. It’s gotten quite dusty out, I wouldn’t recommend you and the lil’ munchkin to go out for a while. I’ll take a shower first,” he responded dusting himself off briefly by the door before removing his shoes and coat. Heading towards the bathroom past me, but not before giving me smooch on the cheek and a gentle rub on my swollen belly.

Yes. Miledy got pregnant with Alastor’s child. He slowly warmed up to the idea when he saw her babysitting the neighbor’s toddler and when they both visited an orphanage, albeit to Al’s hesitance, where he saw her dote on the children, as she was also a kid that grew up in an orphanage feeling great empathy towards them. If Alastor didn’t stop her, she would have adopted all of them. At the end of the day, he concluded that you would be the best mom possible out there and gave her wish. Making him very sentimental and missing his late mother, which she often comforted him about.

I sighed happily and rubbed my stomach. I stared at the cradle with much longing, I couldn't wait to see our baby. Above the cradle was a mobile, it was a string of ornaments that were meant to be a toy for them, it was decorated with shells, dolphins, rabbits and a deer—as requested by Al.

I picked up a music box that had our favorite music. Alastor had this requested as a gift for your child, I was surprised when he presented it to me. I didn't think he'd be attached to them as much as I was, but I guess he adores them in his own way. Making a family does make it seem more real.

It makes me think back all those lives we've taken just to protect our family. I wonder if those people had family too? Did they look for them?

I was pulled from my thoughts when Alastor stood beside me, gazing at the cradle as I was.

“And how have the two of you been, my love,” Alastor asked, his hair still wet and changed clothes.

The both of us walked towards the couch, him making me sit on his lap as always after work, where he would rub my stomach and lower back, and even sometimes my chest whenever they get too heavy.

“Been kicking and moving around so much lately. I’m so sore all over,” I moaned as I leaned my back on his chest, letting him massage my lower back.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll give them a good talking to,” he joked poking around my stomach.

Giggling and squirming in his hold I cried, feeling fluttery inside when the baby kicked in response, “Al, that tickles! Haha!”

“What?~ I’m just disciplining our child,” he explains himself in a light tone.

“You’re such a loser,” I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

“Oh, please,” he scoffs, “I’m anything but a loser. Have you seen my wife? The most sought out singer in all of Louisiana? You must have heard of her surely.”

“I have indeed,” I giggled, “but I heard she unfortunately got knocked up by some random radio broadcast guy that does his shows in a basement.”

Alastor gasps dramatically clutching his hand over his chest and exclaims, “You did not! One, I own a studio in the city where I do my shows, thank you very much. Two, how dare you say unfortunately, I’m the most highly paid broadcaster. Any person would drop on their knees to even get to be in the same room as me.”

I chuckled at his haughtiness and conceded lying on his chest once more, “You’re right, you’re right, your royal highness.”

He lets out a hum similar to a purr contently embracing us.

(3 years later)

“Abigail!”

A little squeal sounded down the halls along with little pitter patters of her tiny feet as she tried to get away from me.

“Come here, Sunshine. You need to get changed. Don’t you wanna go and see Dad?” I asked her walking to her slowly.

She excitedly jumps from behind the couch and yells, “Dad! Dad! I wan’ta see Dad!”

“Alright, alright. Come’re,” I called her to come closer to put on her little yellow sundress. I took my bag that had all our necessities while Abby tried to put on her shoes that she immediately showed off when she did it all by herself.

“Well done, Abby! Dad will be happy that you can put on your shoes by yourself now. Do you want to tell him yourself?” I asked putting on her hat.

“Mhm! I’ll tell him myself!” she answered cheerfully holding my hand after I shut the door and locked it.

“Alright then. You ready?” I asked her again with a doting smile.

“Yes! Let’s go meet up with Dad!” she replied excitedly trying to drag me with her.

After we arrived at his studio, we went to his office and waited for him to finish with his morning show so we could take Abby to the park and eat at a restaurant for lunch after. She was on the floor playing with her toy doll and stuffed bunny, playing pretend by herself.

“Hello there, darlings,” Alastor greeted with a smile. Arms already open for his daughter to dive in.

“Dad!” She yelled excitedly jumping into his arms, “Are you done with work?”

“Yup. You excited to go to the park today?” he asked booping her nose playfully.

She laughed delightedly making both Al and I’s hearts to melt.

“Yeah! I wanna go now please!” she requested politely hugging her father’s neck.

“Okay, Sunshine,” he replied petting her back.

Hand in hand, the three of us spent the day together happily on our family outing. Of course, it couldn’t be helped that we would be stopped a few times, but we immediately excused ourselves from them to enjoy as much time as we could while we were together, not letting all the disturbances get in the way for our plans today.

Reaching home with a tired Abigail in my arms. Alastor carried all our bags and toys that we bought for our daughter along with a balloon with a smiley face on it tied around his wrist. As he was opening the door for us, he stopped suddenly, making me look up to him alert.

I clutched Abby closer getting ready to run. Alastor fully opened the door and dodged a swing from a brass knuckle to his head.

“Run!” he yelled as he fended off the intruder from getting to us. Abigail waking up from the shout of his father, she trembled in fear as she saw him fight another man.

“Mom? What going on?” she asked, confused and afraid grip tightening around me.

“Shh, I’m sorry but mom’s gonna ask you to stay quiet, okay? Just-just close your eyes, honey.” I requested seriously making her tuck her head in my neck.

I ran as fast I could, reaching our other house that was used for emergencies. We entered together and pushed her inside a bunker in the bedroom.

“Baby, you need to listen to me. I need you to be quiet for me, okay? No matter what, don’t open this door if it isn’t me or Dad, got it?” I ordered her with a serious face making her nod despite being afraid out of her skin. I swiped the tears under her eyes and gave a kiss on her forehead saying, “I love you so much, Abby.”

I left her after locking the door and pushed the vanity on top of the door. Holding my gun close to me and creeping my way out the bedroom to check for any of followers, as I was rounding a corner someone tugged at my hair making me throw my head back.

I whacked him with my gun up on his chin making him back up from me, taking this opportunity to shoot him in the chest twice. I aimed my gun to the window when I saw a sliver of light catch the corner of my eye, shooting when he jumps in through the window stopping him from letting him move further in.

I turned my gun to the door when I heard it open, only to feel relieved when I saw the familiar tuft of brown hair styled in a certain way that I could immediately recognize. I run towards him for an embrace that he returned.

“Where’s Abby?” he asked looking around the room.

“She’s in the bunker. Did anyone follow you?” I asked placing my hands back to my sides.

“None. I had 4 people outside, you?” he said rushing into the room making sure Abby’s safe.

“Just 2,” I sighed rubbing my face frustratedly. “I’m sorry. It must’ve been Alex’s men. They’re getting pretty fucking desperate if they’re attacking from our house,” I snarled.

“It’s fine, darling. That’s why we prepared this to make sure Abby stays safe,” he said assuring me, and giving me a quick peck on the head. Then helping him push the vanity off the door and took our daughter out.

“Let’s stay in the cabin for a while, we aren’t safe here,” Alastor suggested which I agreed to.

Morning come; Abby woke up confused, she then realized she was in her father’s cabin seeing his prized hunting gun on wall. Her eyes scanned the room for her parents and found none of them there, so she slowly opened the door and was greeted by the smell of cooked meat. She found her father in the kitchen cleaning while you were knitting on the sofa. Hearing the door creak, both the adults turned their heads to their daughter’s little round head.

“Good morning, Sunshine~,” Alastor greeted waving his spatula.

I got off the sofa, leaving my knitting materials and scooped her up into my arms, “Hello, bunny. Did you have a good sleep? It’s already 10pm.”

“Mhmm, but I had a bad dream. Mom and Dad where fighting some bad guys and I was so scared that you got hurt,” she mumbled making my face ridden with guilt.

I never wanted my baby to experience this, I never knew that Alex’s obsession would ever get this deep.

To briefly explain what happened over the years, I sang in a private bar where some very important people were having a meeting. Unfortunately for me, one of people there was interested in me. So, I explained to him that I had a husband, but he refused to leave me alone until Alastor came with the owner of the establishment to diffuse the situation. However, it didn’t stop there, he insistently showered me with gifts and letters that I had to refuse each time. I confronted him saying that I would never be with him as long as I lived, so in retaliation his obsession turned sinister, believing that if he couldn't have me then I was better off dead.

Alastor, fueled with irritation, confronted him almost successfully killing him in the process if it weren’t for Alex’s group to look for him and warded Al off. And to this day he’s eager to hurt our family.

“I’m sorry, honey,” I replied eyebrows furrowed kissing her head, “it’s just a bad dream don’t be scared.”

“Exactly, nothing to be worried about. Why don’t you have some breakfast first? Breakfast is indeed the most important meal of the day, Sunshine,” Alastor spoke up after setting the plates, taking Abby into his arms, and placing her on her chair.

At the end of the day, when Abby passes out from exhaustion from playing in the meadow all day. Alastor takes his gun off the wall making me stand up in worry.

“Where are you going?” I asked, holding his arm.

“To finish this once and for all. I don’t want Abby to be in danger anymore. Most of all, I don’t want you to live in fear that we’re going to lose Abby, neither do I,” he reason placing his hand on your cheek.

“Just please... please be careful, Al,” I pleaded him covering his hand over mine.

He gave me a smug smile and replied, “I’ve never lost before, darling. I’ll be back before sunrise. I promise.”

I nodded as he gave me a kiss, as much as I was worried about him, I knew Al could take care of himself.

“Stay safe,” I said staying by the door frame while he waves goodbye, painfully unaware how devasted I would be when he never returned the following day.

[somehow-a-human]

Whose POV is it Anyway?

Bodysnatchers & Cosplaying a bookseller

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

I'm back! I took a few days off of doing internet thingsss so I took a break from writing this series of posts but I'm back and continuing with episode 3 in its entirety!

For reference & context, I recommend reading these posts:

Whose POV is it Anyway? - Introduction

Lens Filters

POV "Your 'Something's Wrong' Voice"

POV a Trip to Hell and a 25 Lazarii Miracle

POV a Companion to Owls

POV The Dirty Donkey & I think I Found a *Clue*!

Shall we get cracking?

Episode 3 gifts us the arrival of Muriel! Sweet adorable Muriel! We see them arrive to the bookshop, with the Bronze Glimmer Glass filter in full effect. Aziraphale is the only one there so it makes sense we'll have Aziraphale's POV to start. Cupperteas ensue, and Crowley arrives to be grumpy but fully accepting that Aziraphale is taking their car, I mean, he's already brought the plants inside. His sideburns are long here as well.

When the duo head into the backroom to discuss what's going on, the filter changes, the lighting is much cooler toned, and we're now looking through the Black Diffusion FX filter in Crowley's POV. Crowley's sideburns are also short now, and if my theory that POV is also correlating with his hair length, it's standing here.

As Aziraphale drives off, we see Crowley watch him from the window and sigh, sideburns still short, still his POV.

I'm going to stick to the present day storyline and switch to the bodysnatchers minisode at the end!

The time Aziraphale and Crowley spend apart in this episode is interesting to say the least. If we're trying to look at the lighting and possible lens filters used to determine the narrator or POV for these scenes... I think they're switched!

When we see Aziraphale driving the Bentley, the scene isn't awash with glowy warm lighting which we know isn't reserved just to the bookshop since we've seen it used in the record shop, coffee shop, and in the Job flashback.

It's rather cool toned lighting for a yellow bentley. Aziraphale's whole trip to Edinburgh is cool toned. The time he spends in The Resurrectionist, the graveyard, everything. I would have expected Aziraphale's magical little newspaperman cosplaying extravaganza to be dripping in his golden glow through the gorgeous Edinburgh when I started thinking about the scenes and these lense filters and these metas.

But then you look at the opposite, Crowley alone in the bookshop with Jim. Something he would hate right? Sounds like worst case scenario for him. He loves the bookshop but he's there alone with Gabriel who tried to kill the person he loves more than anything and didn't have an ounce of compassion, while Aziraphale has taken himself and his car very far away.

But what is Crowley's experience like? He and Gabriel are chummy as ever, they talk about rainstorms, vavooming, gravity. Crowley dresses down and is wearing sleeve garters? A bit old fashioned for Crowley but not for Aziraphale no? He's playing bookseller, carrying books around, albeit not quite correctly, chucking them at the end. Every scene is drenched in warm golden haze and Crowley's sideburns are long the entire time.

They aren't together, but they've always probably got one thing on their mind...

I think we're seeing these scenes through each other's eyes, or the POV is swapped if you will. Maybe that's why Crowley is wearing sleeve garters and cosplaying bookseller and being very kind to Jim? And Aziraphale is being the worlds cutest little investigator to ever exist. I think maybe they're imagining each other, or it just points to the idea that they're apart but still the only thing they're always thinking about.

Okay, cute lovebomb, now let's talk digging up dead bodies!

There isn't a lot to go off of for lighting in this minisode, but there is one detail I wanted to point out that has to do with Crowley's hair length. In all locations BUT the crypt his mutton chops are longer. When they enter the crypt both times, they are shorter.

You can see they are a distinct "J" shape in most scenes but in the crypt scenes (for example when he drinks laudanum and busts through the roof) they have been trimmed back). So if I'm going just on hair length, all scenes except the crypt are Aziraphale's POV.

If you can look past my terrible image quality, you can see on the right image his chops are notched where on the left they're doing the opposite.

NEXT

POV 1941

[i-heart-hxh]

kurapika anon back again!! i would love to know more about your thoughts on the troupe not being fully responsible for the death of the kurta.

personally, i see it more as they committed the actual murder, but someone was pulling the strings, whether that be through the pariston/sheila theory, or tserriednich. especially considering they seem to be under the impression that it’s some kind of revenge on the kurta, while the kurta have been peaceful for a very long time by the time they were massacred.

i saw someone on reddit make the theory that the kurta were the ones that caused meteor city to be so broken down to begin with, but that would be so long ago that i think it would be unreasonable for the troupe to still act on it. possibly chrollo was lied to about that being the case? or falsely told that the kurta were planning an attack?

Hi again!

So, I will say that my theories are all a bit vague, more like a bunch of puzzle pieces than a complete picture, but I'll share my thoughts nonetheless! If anyone else has additions or more insight, feel free to add on--there's so much to consider on this topic, and I don't feel like I've considered every single piece of evidence there is out there.

For a long time, I've felt that there's uncertainty around the Phantom Troupe's actions and the Kurta massacre. For one thing, we've never been shown any images of the Phantom Troupe being involved, nor did any characters we know of directly witness them killing the Kurta, and Uvo initially doesn't remember the Kurta when asked about them (he does when he sees Kurapika's eyes, but even then it seems a little odd). The way the Kurta massacre is set up seems intentionally vague all around, which makes me think there are pieces of the puzzle Togashi has been keeping from us.

He remembers enough where it's entirely possible they did do it or at least heard about it in depth, but also remember the Phantom Troupe started out as an acting troupe. It's possible they either a) did it after being given false information or were manipulated into it, or b) took credit for it for some reason even though they weren't involved. I lean more towards a), but b) is also possible.

I also feel like, the Phantom Troupe are clearly not morally upstanding citizens, to put it mildly, but as we've seen them are they truly capable of a full-on intentional massacre of innocent people, including children, for the sake of money/trophies? Most of the violence we've seen from them has been towards mafia and Chimera Ants. I mean, Feitan does torture people as a hobby and Chrollo kills a whole bunch of audience members in his fight with Hisoka, among other examples, so it's not like it's impossible to even consider they would ever do such a thing, but I'm just somewhat skeptical nonetheless.

The Phantom Troupe backstory threw even more uncertainty into the mix for me. Sarasa is a victim in a similar way to the Kurta, and as of yet the jump between where the Phantom Troupe left off in the flashback and the way the Kurta are killed seems strange. It's likely we'll get something more to fill that gap and explain how this development happened in the manga going forward, but, there's just something about it that seems "off" to me. How did this group of people go from wanting to find the murderers of their friend--albeit at all costs, and saying they are willing to become the villains and kill people in order to get revenge--to a group of people who may have murdered 100+ people for the sake of trophies, similar to what happened to Sarasa? That doesn't match their stated aims, and while it's possible they simply became more and more twisted by going down their road of revenge, I feel like there's more to it. It's interesting either way, so if that is the case, I'll accept it, but I feel like we're missing something major.

Note that they're trying to become so fearsome that people stay away from Meteor City and the people can be safer there/not preyed upon, so that would give them a reason to maybe take credit for what happened to the Kurta even if they weren't involved. And again, they started off as an acting troupe...

I also have had a suspicion for a long time that, with the way Kurapika's powers are set up specifically for the Phantom Troupe, he might eventually end up in a situation where, oops, the Phantom Troupe is not his target after all in order to get what he wants! It feels like a very Togashi kind of irony, and will put him in a difficult position.

Tserriednich is shown with a head above his throne in addition to the scarlet eyes, and his nen beast has a child's head inside of it that looks suspiciously like Pairo's. I think it's very possible Tserriednich or mafia surrounding him were involved in the acquisition of the scarlet eyes. It's possible either the Phantom Troupe were baited or manipulated into killing the Kurta in some way (told that the Kurta were responsible for Sarasa's death and the missing children in Meteor City, for instance), or that they took credit for it in order to bolster their own image as fearsome villains in order to reach their aims.

I also feel like Tserriednich is a direct representation of what Kurapika (and to a certain extent, the Troupe too, at least in the past) resents and abhors--the wanton murder of human beings for reasons of aesthetics, trophies, and "art." So to me, it makes sense he would be Kurapika's ultimate antagonist rather than the Troupe, who in a way are weirdly similar to Kurapika, or at the very least started out that way. If Tserriednich was somehow involved with what happened to Sarasa/the children of Meteor City as well (assuming the timeline supports such a thing, and I'm not totally certain it does), it's even possible Kurapika and the Troupe could end up on the same side, both trying to take Tserriednich down.

There's also the question of Sheila... Like I pointed out in this post, I'm very curious about this panel of her turning away from the Troupe and what it means.

I'm not totally sure I buy the Sheila = Pariston theories (though I haven't ruled it out either), but something is up with Sheila for sure, especially because of her appearance later with Kurapika and Pairo before the Kurta massacre. It's possible she lured someone there, possibly not the Phantom Troupe but maybe mafia members instead--maybe the same mafia members who murdered Sarasa? Or maybe she did pass the info to the Phantom Troupe--but it is weird that here she's shown going away from them with such a sad and complicated expression (as if maybe she were involved with what happened to Sarasa in some way), so it seems odd for her to be working with them later.

@subdee did a great post on this topic as well that has some additional thoughts and evidence as well, so I recommend checking that out!

Ultimately, I think there's a lot of doubt and mystery surrounding the Kurta Massacre, and I do feel like the series is setting up the idea of Tserriednich being the final hurdle for Kurapika to take down. There are a lot of possibilities still for exactly what happened to the Kurta and also for what will happen in the future with Kurapika and the Phantom Troupe, but I do feel like we're still missing a few puzzle pieces that will (hopefully) soon become clear. I do think this arc is going to be the end for the major plots of Kurapika, the Phantom Troupe, and Tserriednich, so I'm very curious and excited for how things will pan out!

[spaceistheplaceart]

Body Swap - The Exorcism Part Two

wanted to do a bit more but ough i am TIRED... this took a lot out of me lmao but i hope y'all enjoy! lmk what u think in the tags/replies/asks :)

masterpost

previous

(Please Reblog! Leave a comment in the tags! They make me very happy :)

SUMMARIZED ID: Reigen and Mob are shown the client's living room, it is in disarray. Reigen begins investigating the room, but begins to feel the presence of spirits... They keep a sharp eye out, as something moves about the room quickly.

FULL ID UNDER CUT

START ID:

(This is a body swap, so I'll be referring to the characters as who they actually are but keep in mind that Reigen is in Mob's body and vice versa.)

Mob watches Dimple fly leave, then goes inside Hiroto's house by shutting the door.

Cut to inside, Hiroto is opening a door for Mob and Reigen. Reigen has his hands on his hips. The client says, "This is where it's been happening." The room inside is moderately sized with a triple pane window on the far left wall. There is a fireplace, a couch, a ripped up armchair, two carpets- both rumpled and one torn, a doggy bed, a toy train, some balls, a tipped over coffee table, some askew and fallen paintings, some shelving units, and a chest of drawers on the right hand wall that has upon it multiple knick knacks. A drawer is missing from it and laying on the floor. There is a book with some pages torn out as well. All in all, it's a room that has seen some damage.

Hiroto lifts a nearby painting, showing three long scratches that were seen previously in the comic as a flashback. "See?" He says, looking at Mob. Mob looks at the scratches, somewhat narrowing his eyes. "Hmm..."

Reigen steps in, leaned over with his hand on his chin, looking at the scratches. Hiroto looks down at him, a little surprised. Reigen asks, "Hmm... have you noticed any strange smells?" "Smells?" The client repeats.

"Yes, like something rotting or damp. Spirits can sometimes carry over scents from their bodies, and that helps us determine which kind of ghost it is." Reigen says, gesturing with one hand while pointing upwards with the other. Hiroto shrugs, smile askew. "No, I haven't smelled anything strange..." He turns to Mob. "What do you think?"

Mob stands in the middle of the room, looking up. "Hmmm. I... don't feel anything." His speech bubble is overlapped by Reigen's, "AHAHA!!!" Reigen laughs, moving to Mob's side and resting one hand on Mob's arm, smiling wide and nervous as he explains to Hiroto: "They must be so weak that my Master is having a hard time picking up on them, but I can sense something in this room... ah, I can sense weaker spirits-- you know. I take care of them for my Master."

Mob gives Reigen a deadpan look. "Is that all you do?" Reigen's smile dims and he sweats.

"Al... right. Well, I'll leave you two to it... I've got to run to the store for a bit..." Hiroto crosses his arms. "And those ghosts better be gone when I get back."

Reigen waves a hand dismissively, using his customer service smile. "Don't worry, Mr. Hiroto, we'll have your spirit problem taken care of in no time!"

Hiroto begins to shut the door. He smiles nervously. "Sure thing..." He leaves.

After a moment, Mob looks down at Reigen, who is now crouching and looking at the scratches. He joins him on the floor.

Reigen says, "Hm... This guy could have a mouse problem. Or termites, possibly... hopefully not."

"I don't think mice could tip over chairs, Master."

"True, but the dogs could chase the mice and knockk over the chairs...." Reigen holds up a finger, his eyes are shut as he lectures Mob. "Always rule out the probable, Mob! Then, you can start looking for the less probable." Mob looks unimpressed.

Reigen stands up, hand in his pocket. "You do have a point, Mob. Although I hate to admit it... This could be a real hauntiiii-IIING!" His speech transitions into a yelp as his back straightens and eyes go wide. The background of the panel is dark with white wisps darting across it. Reigen crosses his arms and glares off to the side, his hair floating up due to his psychic abilities. He shudders. "Do you think the client would notice if we turned his A/C up? It's freezing in here!"

"I'm not cold." Mob responds.

Reigen grits his teeth and narrows his eyes, still tense. He's shivering. "Huh? It's freezing! Are you anemic or... something? Sensitive to cold?"

"No, I think the cold is probably the spirits."

Reigen flinches, then looks off to the side, smiling nervously. "Oh! Yes! Yes. The spirits! I recognize it now. Uh... you don't feel anything, do you?"

"Nope."

"Great." He puts his hand to his chin in thought. "What do you see, then? Anything?"

"Master, I don't have powers right now, remember?"

Reigen stares at Mob, his hair floating up due to his powers again. The background is dark and shadow-y, with the colouring of Reigen being all white. He's pale.

The next panel is of a similar style, dark and silent as they both look at eachother.

Mob angles his head down, looking at Reigen through his bangs and sweating slightly. "... Because we've switches bodies, I only have your powers right now... not mine?" The panel colour is lighter, and Reigen's hair calms slightly.

"Right." Reigen says, sighing and turning away from Mob, arms crossed. The panel is nearly white again, like normal. Mob is looking to the side, too, eyes downturned with a sweat drop on his cheek.

A view of a model train set, turned over. The carpet is rumpled and there is a painting sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Reigen speaks, "I definitely feel something in this room... but I don't see it. Keep a sharp eye out, just in case. Even if you're having trouble with my powers, I'm sure you can still pull something off."

Mob and Reigen stand back to back, glancing around the room. Then something 'wooshes', represented by a panel with a dark gray background and white lines flowing across it with the text 'woosh' on it.

Reigen startles, turning to look at the far side of the room. There is nothing of note there. He sees only the window, the couch, and the chair.

END ID.

[yazzwrites6962]

Falling For You ♡ Shigaraki Tomura ♡ Part One

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Shigaraki Tomura x GN!Clumsy!Quirkless!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! I have not really been keeping up with MHA very closely, if I'm being honest. I was so obsessed with Shigaraki and Bakugo back in high school though. Sorry for late posts too! I have been drowning in finals. Italics are flashbacks. I don't own any characters/images.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Summary: After an unfortunate run-in with the League of Villains, you find yourself trapped in a world you never belonged in. Clumsy, quirkless, and out of place, you're kept alive only by Shigaraki's inexplicable decision to spare you. Despite your constant mistakes and his harsh words, you slowly discover that the leader of the League may not be so heartless after all.

Word Count: 1706

Warnings: Threats/Mentions of violence, light emotional manipulation, power dynamics, swearing,

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

You didn't belong in the League of Villains. At least, not really. In fact, you were more of an accidental recruit. It started out as a simple mistake. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, overhearing things you were not meant to hear. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but when a rogue villain noticed you, your life took a turn.

You were lucky not to be killed that day. You thought you would be. Yet, it was quickly discovered that you were nothing more than a quirkless civilian with a stroke of bad luck. Still, you were a threat to their plans. You knew too much.

Bad luck seemed to follow you everywhere. If it wasn't insisted by your doctor, you would've assumed bad luck was your quirk. You were clumsy, always seeming to do the wrong thing at the wrong time. It was a frustrating way to live.

"What kind of quirkless idiot gets themselves in a situation like this? Maybe you're more trouble than you're worth." Shigaraki was ultimately the one who made the final call. "Whatever. If you're determined not to die, we'll find a use for you." You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that you would not be killed. At least, not yet.

It felt almost comforting to be seen as possibly useful. All your life, tasks were delegated to you last. You were the "screw up", always left on the sidelines. However, that relief was short lived. Being useful to the League of Villains was no comforting notion. It was constant anxiety.

Many didn't view you as a person. Rather, you were a tool. Someone to keep around for menial tasks, which you often failed miserably. You were a klutz, in every sense. You were Murphey's Law personified. Several members of the League began realizing this and losing their patience. At least, what little patience they had.

"Stop getting in the way. I have no problems with killing you. If you're going to do tasks wrong, I'll just do them myself." Shigaraki would often warn you after every mistake. Despite his warnings, he never did kill you. Maybe you were more like a pitiful little pet to him than anything. You can still vividly recall Dabi's understandable hesitation when Shigaraki chose to keep you.

"Awe, I think they're so cute!" The blonde girl chirped, skipping towards your trembling frame. She crouched down to you, pressing a finger to your cheek. "Look how scared they are. How pathetic. Can we keep them? Please~?"

"Really? This one?" Said the burnt looking stranger leaned against the crumbling wall; arms crossed over his chest. "They can barely stay on their feet. What are we supposed to do with them? Trip them into the heroes and hope something works in our favor?"

You wanted to speak, defending yourself, but the words were caught in your throat. What could you say? They were right. You didn't belong there. You couldn't fight. You had no quirk. You could barely make your way across the room without bumping into anything. Yet, the mysterious man with light blue hair silenced them with the wave of his hand.

"Enough. They stay until I say otherwise.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The first few days in the League were the worst. It was a struggle adjusting to your new life. You wondered if anyone missed you, or even noticed you were gone. You were given small tasks: Clean Toga's messes, fetching things for Kurogiri, and organizing files you didn't really understand. Your clumsiness didn't help. You often tripped over wires, spilled drinks, and knocked over stacks of plans you had only just sorted.

"Are you trying to sabotage us, or are you genuinely this useless?" Shigaraki sneered. He had grown obviously irritated with your many errors. His tone was sharp, but his eyes betrayed him. There was a flicker of something else: Pity, or maybe curiosity?

"Ah- I'm s-sorry!" You apologize for what must've been the thousandth time that day. Your cheeks flushed with shame. "I- I don't mean to- I'm so sorry." You were terrified of the idea that at any moment, he would change his mind about you. Your life was on the line, after all.

"Stop apologizing. It's disgusting."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Over time, you noticed something strange about Shigaraki. Despite his sharp words and constant threats. he never actually followed through with them. Others in the League had taken bets on how long you would last. Yet, there you were; Still alive, stumbling through your "usefulness".

You began noticing the little things. You noticed how he would grumble under his breath whenever you nearly broke something, but he never raised his voice to you. You noticed how he would occasionally hover nearby, as if watching to see what you would trip over next. It was oddly endearing.

"I don't belong here." You grumbled under your breath one day after spilling an entire tray of drinks onto the floor. You crouch down to clean up the mess. You didn't think anyone heard you, but then Shigaraki spoke.

"You don't." His gruff voice startled you. You glance up quickly, meeting a pair of deep red eyes. "You're pathetic. Weak. Useless, really." He continued, an ever-present scowl on his face as he scratched at himself.

Ouch. As if you didn't already know this. You'd been down on yourself your entire life. It's not like you didn't try your hardest to do the best you could. Your best simply wasn't good enough. You held back tears as you continued to clean, silent from Shigaraki's words.

"Yet, you're still here." He said finally, after a long silence. He leaned down, crouching beside you. "You don't fight back. You don't try to be something you're not. You apologize too fucking much, but that can be overlooked. You are honest, in the worst ways. I... I don't hate that."

He almost sounded tender and comforting, as if he were recalling a fond memory. The tears met your eyes for a different reason now. You paused in your cleaning, taking a moment to truly admire the look he gave you. Behind the scowling, pitying expressing, there was a softness to him.

"You don't hate me?" You regretted the words the moment they left your mouth. Your voice sounded weaker than you wished. It sounded like you choked on the question before letting it out. Shigaraki let out a breath, something between a scoff and a chuckle.

"Don't let it get to your head." He stood, towing over you. "Just clean this up before I change my mind about keeping you alive today." Despite his harsh words, the air felt different. Lighter, somehow. He didn't hate you. That realization nestled into your chest like a warm ember.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"Tomura's going soft on you~!" Toga whispered in your ear one evening, a sly grin on her face as she leaned against the table. Startled, you dropped a glass, which luckily didn't shatter. Dabi, who happened to be nearby, huffed.

"W-What?" Your cheeks heat up as you pick up the dropped cup, inspecting it for damage. You take a breath, trying not to stutter over your words. "Don't be silly. He is not."

"Yeah, he fucking is." Dabi rolled his eyes at your nervous behavior. "He didn't even yell at you earlier when you nearly wiped out over those cables."

"He likes you!" Toga squealed, bouncing excitedly. "That's so cute! He's falling for yoy, you little clumsy thing!" She leaned closer to you, puckering her lips and twirling a piece of her hair teasingly. You smile, taking away the dishes you hopefully wouldn't be breaking any time soon.

"He is not falling for me." You insisted, ignoring the way your heart skipped at the mere thought. "He probably just doesn't think I'm worth the effort." Even if he were falling for you, you couldn't possibly reciprocate those feelings... right?

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The truth hit you on a stormy afternoon.

You had been tasked with sorting some more files when the sudden crack of thunder roared through the building. You jumped, sending a stack of papers flying in every direction.

"Seriously?" You groaned, kneeling to gather them. Your back ached. You must've bent down to pick various items up at least a hundred times that day. Exhaustion washed over you. It had been an especially taxing day.

"What happened this time?" Shigaraki's voice made you freeze mid-reach. You looked up to see him casually leaning against the doorway, scanning over your every move.

"I- Um- It was the thunder- I'm sorry-" You stammered, flinching as another rumble shook the building. He stared at you, expression unreadable. Was he judging? His silence was uncomfortable. Then, to your utter disbelief, he sighed and crouched down. He began carefully gathering the papers, being sure to pinch them using only his index and thumb. "You... You don't have to do that-"

"Shut up." He didn't look at you, but his tone lacked the usual harshness. The two of you picked up the papers in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "What are you still doing here?"

"What?" You questioned, looking between him and the papers. Was there another task you were meant to be completing? Did he want you to leave? You were about to question him further, but he began before you could.

"I've given you plenty of chances to leave. To run. To escape. I wouldn't have wasted my time going after you." Ouch. "So why are you still here?"

"Where else would I go?" You gulp, stacking the last of the papers. "I... I have nowhere else to go." You admit, standing as you both finish stacking the papers. He stared into your eyes, as if searching for your soul in them.

"Tch. You're an idiot." He muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He began to walk away. Before leaving the room entirely, he made sure to glance back at you one more time. "You belong here, more than you may think." Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe, here, you weren't so useless after all. Maybe you did belong with the League of Villains.

Maybe Shigaraki wasn't as heartless as he wanted everyone to believe.

[contraryclock]

Limbus rambling Don Quixote edition number #2 the second

SO!!! that new canto huh Part 1 is out, im avoiding leaks to the best of my ability, and i am CAUGHT UP! still havent read La Mancha or Don Quixote though but i dont think that matters right now OBVIOUS disclaimer about my lack of knowledge with the source material once again point is i have a crackpot theory that just might not be that uncommon or unlikely? idk we'll see

Also sorry for no ALT text, this uses a lot of images and my fingers are very cold

spoilers under the cut obviously, catch up before you click and otherwise beware

oh yeah baby welcome to the cool people zone im going to be using a mixture of my own screenshots and the Limbus Main Story Library for this, so buckle up

I propose that there are in fact, two Don Quixote's! Our Don, the sinner of limbus company! and a much older, original Don Quixote, the possible Founder / Lord of La Manchaland!

To start, almost all of this theory is based on those flashback bits we get with the colored text, and is running under the assumption that the Yellow text is, reasonably, supposed to be our Don.

... which brings up the question of why they are acting so uncharacteristically in what is supposedly their own story.

Now, onto those flashbacks!

First up we have the instance at 7-9.

This one doesnt tell us much but it gives us some initial context.

The grey text is clearly Vergillius, you can just tell that from the delivery. The blue text is an unknown femenine voice, The yellow text feels somewhat familiar to that deeper voice that Don quixote will have on occasion. Ironically its more clear in her scream there at the end. ... and then we have the masculine voice in the red text.

But we'll get to that later! our next instance is in 7-13, on the inside of the Shooting Rage attraction. (( although i personally think it says Shooting Bagel. ))

okok but actually heres the text

Only the red voice this time, clearly the same person given the delivery too and with the added context of this node and the last one, it can be assumed that this is either the person who dreampt up La Manchaland, or straight up founded it.

And thanks to the Barber's Narration, we can also come to assume that this voice is also a Fixer, if these things are to be true.

Next, in 7-16, is NOT a flashback, but rather the reaction of The Barber.

The Barber recognizes the name to some degree, "THAT name" feels incredibly deliberate. But she is otherwise completely indifferent to Don.

and now we get to talk about this blue fuck

Sanson, Knight of the white Moon, Knight of Mirrors, ect ect, the BASTARD quick unrelated tangent but i think its cool that they made the arguable* main antagonist of Don Quixote possibly also be apart of Demian's Cool Blue Crew™ (( DCBC )) (( i say this because he shares his dialogue background with the other members of the blue crew we've met )) anyways basically the ENTIRE SEQUENCE he causes is the main reasoning behind my theory here *arguable ok again i havent read the book so i have no idea if this is an accurate assessment of his character i saw an article say that he was "arguably" the antagonist once and i haven't talked to anyone who has actually read the book to yap at about before i make these posts. addendum over

The fact of the matter is, Don Quixote does a right shit job of recounting her own story. She gets lines wrong, minor details, and this becomes readily apparent as soon as she implies that her own fucking shoes are who she was talking to, and that they are given proper reply. (( My thoughts are that instead of Rocinante, the role is in fact Sancho, but we have no evidence of that being the case ))

We also get the most telling flashback lines in this segment!

...The voice we've come to associate with Don Quixote is shown to NOT say her own line, but rather that of the line in red. And in both of these incidents, ellipsis are used to blank out a word, my bets are all on that word being "Knight" baybee

THATS A WRAP FOLKS we've established all the evidence for my epic theory that uhhh the Red voice in don's flashbacks are an Older, Original Don Quixote and that its possible that our Don is a 2'st Don instead of a real Don

As for why this is happening??? I have no fuckin idea its the first part of the canto i just wanted to get my thoughts out

i hope this wasnt too incomprehensible! as is usual dont follow me ect ect and reply or something if you have anything to add, as said im not very knowledgeable on the source material. or do that thing where you reblog with an additional comment because i will reblog that. free reblog ok goodbye now i will be stabbed to death momentarily

[rist-ix]

This might be weird but bare with me: i saw some fanart of valtor and his mamma bears (I'm sorry), he was freshly made and a child still for some reason (idk if it's canon at this point that he was made in adult form or not buuuut) and so it's shown how they don't like him but at the next panel he wants their makeup so tharma and lysliss give him a makeover and at the end belladonna says i think we'll find a use for that pretty face. What i started thinking was if it's possible they used him as a pr0stitute at some point besides all the torture they put him through. My brain today is fixated on how much trauma or ptsd he could possibly have. Now that i write it i sense how weird this is but what do you think?

My friend my dude my brother in fandom, I am but a humble bacteria and u have given me the juiciest slimiest tastiest agar plate imaginable. Let’s get INTO THIS!

(For the record, this is purely fanon. I think I’ve alluded to this headcanon of mine in fics but I am well aware that I have little to no evidence from canon for these assumptions.)

ABSOLUTELY I think that Valtor was used for getting into royal's beds. Though I do think it would have been more complicated than simply “his moms are whoring him out cause they hate him and they want stuff from people” — and I think there are some FASCINATING implications that has for both Valtor's personality as a whole, and his relationship to sexuality and his own body.

First of all, the reason why I think you are correct is simple: he seems to be universally regarded as attractive in-universe, to the point of having even the Trix fawning over him, and he is consistently seen using charm and flattery to get others to do what he wants. If you wanted to expand on this in a darker and more mature setting, the logical conclusion would be that he'd use his body the same way. And I do think he would do that entirely of his own will by the way, no coercion necessary! Though there most certainly was coercion.

That ties a little bit into my view on the Ancient Coven's relationship to each other in general. While we do see Valtor and the Ancestresses at odds with each other in the finale (culminating in the Witches ‘disinheriting’ him and reverting him to his monster form), the fact that they seem to have worked successfully together for AT LEAST a good few decades implies they could be cordial when necessary. Plus, Valtor somewhat wistfully recalls working under them with Griffin, smirking and content in the flashback, makes me personally believe they were genuinely GOOD at cooperating too, instead of the Witches relying solely on tyranny. Don’t get me wrong: there is no way they were a happy family. I'm thinking more along the lines of them playacting as a very harmonious coven, doting creators and loyal creation, like a game that every one of them is in on — a performance, just for funsies, and because none of them want the outside world to see them as anything but perfectly aligned and ruthlessly efficient. All that while also having a sort of spiteful, vengeful arms race going on internally, with Valtor not-so-secretly trying to find ways to overthrow them, and them waiting for him to lean out of cover too far so they can gleefully, brutally remind him who's in charge.

There's a deep, deep, deeply rooted resentment Valtor seems to have for them, but they are also objectively the same: They both want power, they both want to control the Dimension, they both would do anything to accomplish that goal. So if there was a situation in which having someone charming on the inside would help them, I think both Valtor and the Witches would come to the conclusion that Valtor could do whatever necessary to accomplish that. Be it charm someone, poison someone, or sleep with someone in the hopes they might spill some secrets. I consider all four of them to be pretty pragmatic, I don’t think there would be any conflict or hesitation here — not at first.

Because while Valtor would certainly agree that that’s the best approach, and probably be more than willing to get out of their sight for a while and live it up in some palace or another, I do think it would chafe at him eventually. Whether he's using his body to fight people or seduce them is not all that different, both happens at their behest. He's always painfully aware that he is their tool — but I imagine it does get more pronounced with the latter. Especially over time. Your taste in people or attraction does not matter in combat, but certainly plays a role in sex. While Valtor certainly seems to enjoy putting on a show in combat, that is a power play, whereas having to play a long con, with himself so heavily involved no less, can start to feel humiliating, tiring, more like a loss of agency than a game of wits. I don’t think it’s the seduction itself that would bother him, but the clear knowledge that he's just following his creator's plans here, puppeteered even in this aspect of his life.

The result of that in the present day of the s3 era wouldn’t be sexual trauma per se, I would headcanon. Not in the ptsd sense at least. (Though I bet a good fic could convince me otherwise :D) I remain a firm believer that his trauma is purely about his lack of control over his physical form, and a revulsion towards his original body that borders on dysphoria. The sexual aspect of his utility to them would ADD to that, don’t get me wrong, but it wouldn’t be the main source.

It DOES influence him though.

I'm thinking mainly about Valtor's interactions with the Trix here. On multiple occasions he secretly witnesses how they argue or straight up brawl over who gets to have him. None of them even thinks about who he might have shown the most interest in, they treat this solely as a contest of strength, winner takes all. (I don’t think that’s them being rapey btw just to be clear. I see it speaks more to them being juvenile and deeply unserious about romantic relationships, like dogs chasing cars. They don’t care enough about people beyond the three of them to have any actual experience with romance: Darcy's fling with Riven was discarded INSTANTLY once the three had something better to entertain them — like world domination. If one of them had “won” only to get ignored or rejected, the other two would have laughed her out of the room and then they would have done it all over again the next day.) im getting distracted. What I meant to get to is that Valtor sees them acting like he's a prize to be won… and he does not react at all. The first time he finds it mildly entertaining, the next few times the bit seems to get old for him already. That’s it. He encourages their possessiveness of course! He clearly enjoys being feared, admired, or simply the center of attention, but being treated without regard for his own desires doesn’t really register as an insult to him. AND he's shown to be pretty unperturbed with Darcy getting into his space, and flirting rather aggressively with him.

And while that may seem anticlimactic after all that, I find that FASCINATING. (Not just because Winx Club consistently writes men — powerful men! — the way female characters would be treated in another show. An essay of its own!) A non-reaction is still a reaction, and Valtor's lack of irritation says a lot in my opinion. I think he has little to no real boundaries, at least outside of combat or with people that are allies/useful to him. By that I don’t mean he would reject someone's advances if he didn’t welcome them, but that he wouldn’t really remember that this is a point where people usually DECIDE whether they welcome the advances or not, u know what I mean? I think his entire sense of self is pretty nebulous to himself, and that his own body seems to him more like a commodity than, well, him. Which makes sense, doesn’t it? He is created as one thing, for one purpose, and then given another body, for another purpose. He prefers to be human, reviles the monstrous form, but has no control over which one he is at any given moment — the people who do could change their minds on a whim. It would make sense for him to feel somewhat alienated from his physical form, and therefore have little care for what happens to it. It would take him far longer to know his own reactions, and to realize whether he enjoys something or not.

I feel like I’ve only managed to put like, half of what's in my head into words here. The dysphoria thing alone feels like something that should be dissected on its own, but I’m dead tired and this post is already pretty long. I will say that I’m not 100% consistent in this headcanon, and depending on the fic I use some of this and some of that, but I do think it’s one of my most favorite reads on Valtor as a character. Thank you so much for this ask!!! I hope the answer is close to what you hoped for lol

[thurio-edau]

SBG GANG MENTAL ANALYSIS

sorry for the delay!

alright, gotta say... this one's a bit shorter. but the next will come like a train wreck i promise😇

Part 3: Ben Clark

oh the sweet old Ben... a kind and loving soul muted away. I'm thinking of inspecting his trauma and his general actions, and give him a diagnosis which I'm sure is canon even. I'm sure everyone who knows the disorder itself is aware that Ben is, in fact, suffering from PTSD.

let's start. first, what is PTSD?

PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, is a mental condition where someone feels what they have previously went through in a past traumatic experience. PTSD is frequently found with flashbacks to the moment, overwhelming feelings and sudden responses. there are two types of this disorder, PTSD and C-PTSD. but we'll look in the first one for now.

Ben has always been a really kind character. ever since the beginning. more of a 'gentle giant' type of character, though we never see him talk. he's soft, he loves to help his friends and never does anything vulgar around them, including the phantom dimension. he feels nice when he gets praised even if he doesn't show it too.

the first time we see him getting flashbacks and his anger issues being visible is when we first see Barron's behaviour towards Logan. anything that includes actual bullying gives him flashbacks and his response is his anger issues unleashing.

in his backstory, Ben is shown that he's more of a shy type of person, but he loves singing. because his tall and intimidating appereance doesn't match his softness, a group of dumbasses try to 'fix' him which he rejects. back when Shane strangled him, is what he gets flashbacks to. it was something that changed his entire life, he had a passion for singing but he never did with his damaged voice. god knows how many times he was hospitalized when he was going around to fights because of his outburst of rage.

yep, rage. I'd classify his anger issues as the 'rage' type with PTSD. PTSD rage makes more sense to me than just normal anger problems. I've seen and lived with many people with anger issues, but none of them are similar to rage. anger problems in general are usually verbal, if you don't make them mad to a point they're all bark and no bite. but of course after a point the violence behind the generic anger issues can unleash (see Tyler)

okay, back to Ben and rage. rage is an extreme condition of anger, the person gets violent and their thoughts are clouded with the rage which makes them not think before doing anything drastic. but he's not very closed off about it either, actually. the time where he accepted Aiden to do the storytelling was before the first half of season one, the gang wasn't even that close.

this means that he saw them as actual friends so early on. probably before everyone. Ashlyn took her sweet time accepting the friendship, I'm kind of sure that Aiden didn't at first (see Tyler, yet again), Tyler also definitely didn't (as said by Taylor in season two premiere) and I think Logan has attachment/trust issues but that's for later. the only other possible person that might accept the group fastly is Taylor but with Tyler's influence so close to her, there is also a chance she didn't at first.

Ben was fine with his friends knowing his past. he put his earphones on because he didn't want to hear about it, or else he knew he'd get flashbacks yet again. I'm thinking that it could be diagnosed too. Aiden knows that it's not just a memory, it's flashbacks to Ben and he covers for him whenever he sees something that might trigger Ben. after learning the situation, Taylor also does the same. they learn the severity of his problems and are all fine with helping him.

another thing I'm sure of is that he's extremely attached to his friends. we know that everyone is close-knit, but Ben specifically. he might not speak but that doesn't mean that he doesn't enjoy their time. he does, fully. which is I think why he/his room was... like that in the facility, without any spoilers.

to say, the gang is more than just friends to him; they're his found family, where he feels like he belongs. they don't judge him for his silence there. they understand his past. they're not scared of him just because of the way he was built and they're not going to be either.

but what about his family?

families are one of the most important part of a character and their backstory. the family is what decides how they will live, act and even feel sometimes. then what about Ben's? where were they during his backstory?

yeah. Ben's rage causes something terrible to happen.

but it ends better for everyone. Ben gets the therapy he needed, starts to live with Aiden, makes the gang his friends and it actually goes well.

his parents?

we meet Naomi and William during Lily's birthday.

yes, Mike, Lily is goshdarn adorable.

first, I think Naomi and William aren't to blame. I think they did the best they could; they tried to help Ben, tried to help him get therapy, sent him to Aiden's place to help himself. then why didn't Ben's story stop?

Ben couldn't control his rage until their house got destroyed and he realized just how far it got. he sneaked out of the house, a lot of people seem to not see that detail. and they seem to be very caring, too.

they're amazing as a whole family, to be honest. even the little Lily doesn't care about her birthday getting wrecked, because she wants to help Ben and his friends. she indirectly helped Tyler extremely well, since the sedative idea came from her in the first place.

Naomi was the first person who brought up the whole 'we-are-seeing-phantoms' discussion and William didn't hesitate to talk about it. Naomi was also the first person to notice the phantoms when the worlds collided for a mere second.

and Ben himself has shown completely zero negative behaviour towards them. and Lily gets treated like a princess -even if she accidentally neutered Ben-

side note here, that Lily also really loves the family too. the way she cuddled Aiden when he died and came back was so cute to be honest.

so I don't think the family is anywhere to blame either. it was Ben who was strangled, Ben who fought, and Ben who saw therapy. the reason why I'm talking about this is because a lot of people suddenly blame a character's family when there's a problem with them.

guys. people with caring, loving families can be traumatized too. just because someone has a happy family doesn't mean they're suddenly over any trauma they live. doesn't mean everything is suddenly okay. it means that they have an accepting place to go to, a safe space. and Ben's family? I think they're just like that. they desperately try to help. help their son, their nephew and their friends. hell, Lily trying to help also speaks volumes in my opinion. their father -dilf no.2 after Mike right here- William was the one who offered the idea to get the kids saved from the centipede phantom. and to be honest? it was pretty smart.

she also tried to prevent Emma from going mad because come on, Emma would absolutely wreck anyone if they dared blame Ashlyn for this. (still I think Jessica has to apologize for being to insensitive smh)

Naomi really seems like a sweetheart to me, I already said what to be said about William in a single very important side sentence and if there was any kind of in-family neglect Lily would also be affected. but she isn't so I think we're good? I adore the whole Ben family tho.

to wrap it all up.

Ben is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder which makes him see flashbacks and turn into a rage mode each time he is triggered due to his backstory, being bullied because he's too soft. his rage causes a gang to destroy his home (HELLO?? ARE THERE NO FUNCTIONING COPS IN THIS STOR-- oh wait it's america yea there ain't nvm) and his parents try their best. move, get Ben to therapy and let Daniel's side help him by doing stuff he loves. Ben is still trying to recover, but his flashbacks are strong due to impacting his entire life from his voice and make it difficult.

(vocal chords repair by time actually, but he hasn't been speaking for like 4 years so maybe it'd need some voice exercises until it returns to normal?? if it's just vocal chords he'd be alright. imagine if he could talk and sing normally all this time but he just didn't know. it's something between "aww poor guy :((" and "lmao"

but I don't know about voice box, can someone enlighten me on vocal chord damage vs. voice box damage? thamks)

and Lily. Lily is a cinnamon roll. no other opinions allowed.

-i wanted to make a part for Ben and Taylor but i decided wasn't fit here :P-

[loustat-0]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE SEASON TWO PREDICTION & POSSIBLE SPOILERS =========>>>>>>

2x1 is going to be about the revenants & Claudia & Louis being bitter towards each other in Europe . Louis seeing Lestat's hallucination .

2x2 arrival to Paris meeting the vampire Armand & the coven of theater the vampires .

2x3 Flashbacks to Armand & Lestat relationship & Nickolas . Parts of Lestat backstory & Armand's back story told by Armand in Dubai to Daniel .

2x4 Armand & Louis's relationship starting to form Lestat present in their relationship Louis & Armand hook up . Claudia as an actress & Louis & Claudia's fight about Louis choosing someone else over her . Claudia meeting Madeline after her show in the theater . Some bitterness shaping between Louis & Armand at the end of the episode in the Dubai timeline . Claudia starting to resent the vampires in the theater . " FUCK theses vampires " she will start resenting Armand too .

2x5 Flashbacks to the 70s . The first interview between Young Daniel & Louis . With Armand also present there . Louis's & Daniel's conversation starts heating up When Daniel tells Louis that he doesn't even know the meaning of his story & hinting to his story having missing pieces & he's not reliable so Louis gets in a fight with him . Some parts of Armand & young Daniel relationship which most people who got the screener said it was so interesting & intense & they were specifically asked not to spoil this part anywhere . Which makes me even more hopeful about the possibility of Devil's minion happening . But not fully . At least we'll get some hints of how Armand & Daniel's relationship started . ( Hopefully ) . Some Alice hints

2x6 Claudia demanding Louis to make her a companion because she feels Louis is gonna leave him & that she's in danger from Armand & the others . And then it leads to Making of the Vampire Madeline or so called the " woman vampire" by Louis & Claudia both . And Louis & Armand & Claudia & Madeline going to celebrate the new fledgling & new beginning . And Then Louis will finally be informed by Armand that it was him who used his powers on Louis to make him want to make Madeline & Louis . And Louis will try to leave Armand out of Anger & when he does & when he goes back to Claudia & Madeline the vampires of the theater arrest them & take them to the trial . This episode will end with Louis seeing the REAL LESTAT for the first time . And that would be the cliff hanger . + A new character will be introduced either from the Mayfair universe or one of the oldest vampires under cover . Or maybe just a new character .

2x7 it will be Santiago asking questions as the judge but being nasty about it . Some truth will definitely come out . Claudia's hatred towards Louis will become more vivid . She will blame Louis as much blaming Lestat . Only 1x7 will be revisited to reveal it was actually Claudia who killed Lestat . And the reason she chose Louis over Lestat as a companion . All her manipulation & her using Louis . Lestat's crimes are also gonna be called in as well . Like making a vampire so young . Like abusing Claudia & Louis & probably Louis & Claudia saying their maker ( Lestat ) never taught them any rules . But Claudia won't beg for mercy & that's her doom . She will probably say Lestat deserved it & she would do it again . ( Foreshadowing to what her ghost told Louis in Merrick ) Claudia will be called guilty & so will Louis & Madeline . Claudia & Madeline will be executed. And Louis will seek revenge & burn the theater down by the end of Ep 7 .

A : 2x8 you might say that while Louis knows everything about Claudia's death then why is he with Armand still ? I think the answer to this question is because Louis himself still doesn't know what Armand actually did to Claudia or what he could have done with Lestat back in Paris after her death . There are probably many things Louis is definitely going to see more clearly after episode 7 . The diaries will gather together Louis will know the real truth about Armand possibly Cutting Claudia's head & attaching it to another body & that how much she really resented Louis . 1x5 will most likely be revisited in the last episode as well because it wasn't mentioned in any reviews about Ep 1_6 . we'll get to see if Armand tampered with that memory or it was all really just from a different POV ? ( My anticipation is , it was hugely Armand's tampering with that memory ) . This will make Louis act out badly . BUT my dilemma is whether this will end to his suicide or him Going back to New Orleans to find Lestat again .

B : If the NOLA scenes & loustat hug scene are from 2000 then the suicide is more possible . BUT IF the NOLA reunion is in 2023 then I didn't think Louis would have a reason to commit suicide other than Claudia's resentment or Lestat's rejection to have him again . Also I noticed something that I think some other fans noticed as well . in the reunion scene there seems to be blood in Lestat's head it's like sticky blood on his hair when Louis hugs him Louis also has a cut on his finger which hasn't healed fast so that might have happend when Louis tries to hurt Lestat believing he's hallucinating him again but when Lestat bleeds & probably starts falling down being in a weak state & doesn't disappear after a long time Louis will realize that Lestat is actually real . But something important happens after this . Which will reveal the real Lestat as a big ending & possible opening for S3

. C : we'll also probably get hints of Armand & Daniel's relationship too in the last episode that hints at what actually happened between them . And what will happen to their relationship in 2023 & hopefully in S3 .

[poppystheories]

An Eye Theory

There's been a lot of debate, over the years, about whether Mana ever loved "Allen".

In the flashback, we clearly see Mana is a compassionate man who wanted to help a kid in a bad situation; in his final moments as himself, he wanted to take Red away from the circus with him. He wanted them to leave together. But that was compassion, not love.

And then Apocryphos used Red's Innocence to shatter his mind. After that, it's very much a question of if Mana was even capable of loving "Allen", as mentally unstable as he was. From what we've seen, he was very affectionate, and though he got Allen the dog and Red the kid mixed up, he eventually went on to introduce "Allen" to the symbols. You don't try to teach a dog to read your secret code. He understood "Allen" was a person, but more than that, we don't really know.

But the soul the Earl excised out of himself and had Allen put into an Akuma did some stuff that doesn't line up with it being the soul of a completely clueless man.

If we go on the assumption that the Earl was trying to rid Mana of any inconvenient memories through this process, we can assume Akuma!Mana is a conglomerate of just more than "Mana Walker". My best guess is that when the Earl excised Akuma!Mana, the memories he was trying to get rid of included stuff that re-stabilized Mana Walker, including knowledge of what actually happened when he met Red. If we consider that as a possibility, a lot of other things become more explicable.

First: If he remembered their first meeting, Akuma!Mana could know that "Allen" was an accomodator with an already activated Innocence capable of combat, perfectly able to destroy a level 0. He also would know “Allen” was fated to be an exorcist, and the threat that Akuma therefore pose.

Second: Akuma!Mana could have gained access to some of the original Mana's knowledge, including stuff about the Earl, Akuma, and souls.

Akuma!Mana said the usual Akuma stuff, and did the usual Akuma stuff, which Akuma cannot seem to help. But Akuma!Mana also did more than that: the "I'll curse you!" wasn't just bluster. He actually did manage to "curse" Allen, which the Earl clearly didn't know about. The Earl must not have thought the Akuma even capable of it, so he certainly wasn't making the Akuma do that specifically.

Mana couldn't control all the instincts of the Akuma, but he could use them to his own advantage.

As evidence, we gotta go on a bit of a tangent:

In the second volume, Hoshino mentions a play that inspired Lala and Gozul. The play goes like this: Old servant falls in love with high-class young lady. She plays with his feelings and he dies. As a vengeful spirit, he decides to curse her. But in the end, he changes his mind, and decides that as a spirit, he'd rather protect her instead, so long as she promises to remember him.

I've seen people dismiss this play in the analysis of DGM before, because let's be real, the premise here is kinda creepy. And it doesn't seem to actually have much to do with Lala and Gozul besides the aesthetic of "old man" and "beautiful maiden".

But the concept of a vengeful spirit saying they'll curse someone they once loved, only to overcome their negative feelings and decide to protect that person instead is present in the story, in a pair of characters the deliberately parallel Lala and Gozul.

Or maybe even more than one pair of characters that parallel Lala and Gozul.

We'll be focusing on Mana and Allen for now though.

I pointed out before that Akuma!Mana didn't need prompting by the Earl to attack, unlike Claire. I think Mana was using the programming of the Akuma to his advantage; if he attacked, he could place the anchor (the star) he'll need on Allen's face without the Earl finding his actions suspicious, and Allen's Innocence would activate to protect Allen, destroying the Akuma shell and freeing his soul to latch on to that anchor.

This gave Allen the ability to see souls, probably because it was Mana's power originally, ensuring Allen would be protected in the future. Thanks to this ability, most of the risk of being ambushed as an exorcist is minimized, so Allen’s career as an exorcist would be relatively safer.

Mana was the "vengeful spirit" (aka Akuma) that decided to become a guardian spirit of someone he loved instead, just like in the play. Allen is "younger loved one" that, in exchange for that protection, must carry Mana's memory.

But it's not just Mana's memory Allen carries, but Nea's too. Nea's also a spirit haunting a loved one, but he hasn't decided whether he wants to destroy or protect yet.

Of course, there’s no guarantee any of this is true. I might be completely off base here. But it’s my current theory, and I’m gonna roll with it, because it does explain a lot of things.

And, most importantly, means Akuma!Mana did mean it when he said he loved “Allen”.

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 47 Yaoibachi Posting

Hokazono-sensei really slammed the gas this chapter, man. No search and rescue mini-arc here- just going back to the series' roots by having our good guys slaughter nameless mooks in suits. Excellent decision! But goodness it feels like he's trying to rush through this set-up to get to what he really wants to say this arc. I trust the emotional impact to land so I guess this really is the Kunishige lore/flashback arc since that's where the narrative focus went.

First off, I got the official arc name wrong last post. It's actually The Sword Bearer Assassination Arc. So, uh, maybe don't get too attached to any of the guys Chihiro will be trying to save. Might be difficult though if they're all as endearing as Uruha.

This Fucking Manga, Man

I just can't even this chapter. I CAN'T. I'm sitting here drafting this on Thursday and I'm in awe of the spreads. Cover and color pages? Stunning. Fanservice? Immaculate.

Yes, we got onsen fanservice after all!

Now accepting bets on who Uruha will be shipped with more: his personal guard guy or Kunishige.

Of course it pulls double duty to give us insight into Uruha and, by proxy, Kunishige. I was right on the money about Uruha being a free-spirited dude with a unique perspective last week... but I didn't imagine he'd basically be a wholesome AF version of Sojo. The Kunishige worship from this guy is off the fucking charts (and so are the Hakuri-Chihiro parallels)!

"This blade suits you" from Kunishige is a callback to Hakuri's words to Chihiro in chapter 20. I love it when authors do this shit. Can we infer that Chihiro felt the same level of awe for Hakuri? Probably not, but he did need to hear that affirmation quite badly, so it's still significant.

You don't get to comment on other guys being weirdly obsessive over a Rokuhira on sight like that, Hakuri.

THESE DUMBASS GOOBERS. Poor Chihiro's still collecting weirdos while Hakuri has no self-awareness at all. I'm in tears this is just too good. Hakuri, I love you. You're perfect.

I don't wanna get hyped after just one chapter for something that probably won't be happening. I get just about everything wrong week after week anyway! But I wouldn't mind Chihiro and Hakuri's relationship being compared to and developed through Uruha and Kunishige, just sayin'... Please... Hokazono-sensei went through the trouble of making sure we know that Uruha is obviously meant to parallel Hakuri, so that won't go to waste right?!

TFW the light of your life dies and leaves you behind.

'Cause this feels like a set up... I don't know, man. It's impossible to guess how the story's going to go but I get the sense that Uruha is going to have a lot to teach both of these guys- Hakuri in particular.

Neither Hakuri nor Uruha put a lot of value on their own lives until a Rokuhira showed up to praise them. And they're both freakishly devoted to the image of their savior to the point that they're willing to fight and possibly die for them. So we could be exploring that aspect of Hakuri's mindset as a subplot while the larger machinations swirl around them, since it's a pretty potent character flaw and all. I need Sazanami "defend to the death" Hakuri being convinced to give a shit about himself so, so badly.

Goddamnit, please stop hurting yourself.

Hakuri's also unable to use Isou due to burnout, as expected. Still wondering if the Kamunabi knows he can use two sorcery techniques but I won't hold my breath on getting answers for that. It's not necessary for this to be addressed unless it would cause some kind of friction, after all. And for as much as I would like to see the council's reaction to Hakuri and his circumstances, I don't think it'll be relevant. We'll just have to assume they either don't know his last name or are completely fine with a Sazanami being included in the plans. I wanna be wrong though. I really do.

Contract, Powerscaling, and Naming Conventions

We learned some interesting things this chapter. One, the theory of the Lifelong Contract erasing a Bearer's innate sorcery is confirmed. So if we are ever going to learn what Chihiro's sorcery is, Enten will have to be an exception to the other six swords, or he has two sorceries and the contract only nullifies one. I'm not sold on the second one since Hakuri only overworked the storehouse but is limited using both of his, implying there's a common pool of spirit energy they draw from. Looking forward to more details on how this works!

It also seems that the Bearers weren't tucked away in "safe" locations until Kunishige's death three years ago. So they probably got to live their lives as they wished until the Hishaku ruined things... which would explain how Sushi guy ended up at a restaurant. I feel like each location could have special meaning to each Bearer so hopefully we see more about how and why they ended up where they did.

Hiyuki also wasn't lying about the Kamunabi's forces being spread thin. Just 14 talented sorcerers to defend each Bearer, and even then Uruha would have felt more reassured if Azami or Hiyuki was there.

Nice going, Azami! So we know you're hella strong since Hiyuki's the best fighter in the Kamunabi- the only one in the force who can contend with Kunishige's WMDs (ch. 18). I think a Bearer would know how strong an enchanted blade is, so we can assume that Uruha's assessment of Azami's strength is accurate. Azami can't be sent out on the ground like the rank and file as a higher up now, but I'm highly anticipating him demonstrating that fearsome sorcery of his.

We also got another name! Kuregumo's original bearer was named Misaka (巳坂). This is most probably a family name like Uruha (more on him in a bit). 巳 (mi) means "snake" for wisdom and intelligence and 坂 (saka) means "slope/hill" or "embankment" for steady progress, a peaceful life, security, and/or strength and resilience. We'll definitely learn more about them- it's just a matter of when. The upside of Hokazono-sensei being stingy with names is that we all know to sit up and pay attention when one gets dropped.

We also got Uruha's given name this chapter (Youji [洋児]) and the name of his blade (Kumeyuri [酌揺]). Strange names for a strange fellow, but that's expected of someone whose family name implies a free-spirited nature with a unique outlook I guess. 洋 (you) is a kanji that specifically describes the ocean in an expansive, almost foreign sense. Not just the sea in general, but vast waters extending far away from one's current location. It has a ton of possible interpretations, naturally: courage, ambition, adaptability, limitless possibilities, harmony, inclusiveness... on and on. 児 (ji) means "child" in a straightforward way and carries connotations of joy, hope, and potential. So Uruha Youji [lacquer feather ocean child] is quite the character in his name alone.

Kumeyuri's name doesn't really give us any insights into it's potential abilities or theme, unless Kunishige was drunk (or wanted to be) when he made it. 酌 (kume) is the kanji used for pouring sake and implies generosity, abundance, and celebrating joy. 揺 (yuri) means to shake, sway, or jostle and connotes a sense of energy, playfulness, enthusiasm, and fun. I'm getting a lot of entertainment value trying to imagine how a sword named after a shaky pour of sake works, let me tell you. Somehow it seems very apt for Uruha already though.

Dead Dad Trivia

So Kunishige himself requested to hold on to the blades- it's very certain now that whatever happened during the war changed him into the man we met in chapter 1. Seitei war flashbacks please, I'm dying over here! But keep up the layering and scattering of little details! Don't feed me too fast! Make me wait and get all impatient every week! Torture me-

Curious that many people who seem to have known Kunishige doubted his potential as a father. Whether they see him as a savior or a selfish prick, most of them scoff a the idea of him having a kid. Maybe Kunishige was just a guy with layers like his son, so only those who actually knew him well would believe he could be a decent dad. We saw him goofing off with Shiba and Azami when they were Chihiro's age in chapter 12 so it's not like he was a stoic since birth (he said himself that Chihiro inherited that trait from his mom). We're going to slowly piece together the real Kunishige this arc and I can't wait!

Also a bit odd that few people see the resemblance between Chihiro and Kunishige until Chihiro's passion shines through or they get a good look at how he carries himself. Won't hang my hat on the blood test showing that Kunishige wasn't his bio dad after all, but the groundwork is there if it does. Regardless of what happens, though, it's pretty obvious that Chihiro is Kunishige's son thanks to the ideals he took to heart.

Hishaku Theory

RIP bandanna guy you were too cool to live.

Yeah, "enemies of the state" isn't a term you use for a regular criminal gang, no matter how threatening they are. I'm more convinced than ever that the Hishaku are primarily a political threat to all of Japan (though still very willing to admit that I might be reading too far into things).

Kyora's conversation with an unknown Hishaku member in chapter 22 referred to "dissidents". That's also a very pointed descriptor for people with differing political ideologies, especially ones agitating against the "legitimate" ruling group.

Could Soya come back to finish what his dad started? Meh.

This implies that Kyora and the Sazanami clan were aligned with the Hishaku's goals beyond merely business. The Hishaku probably have sympathizers in and outside of mainstream society, and likely within the Kamunabi itself as well. And then there's the kiku flower -which has strong ties to Imperial imagery- in the vase that's shown up twice now, arraigned alongside other flowers symbolizing deep desire and patience.

So I think the Hishaku lost the war and have been plotting their comeback for a long time now. How does this tie into Chihiro's personal journey beyond the revenge mission? We'll have to see. John Hishaku's goals and methods are shrouded in secrecy right now, so I look forward to learning about why he needed to foster Chihiro's hatred to enact his plans. Cool job making the core plot hook so compelling, author-san!

HakuHiro Brainrot

I have to, I'm sorry. This chapter was a godsend.

Give me an inch and I'll run a thousand miles with these two.

Chihiro acknowledging that Hakuri is special! Feels like a very deliberate reference to the language used in Chapter 33, especially by Tenri. Makes sense since Tenri was a parallel of Chihiro's devotion to his father and his legacy.

"Hakuri- my older brother by a year- is different." would have flowed a little better, but it's a clunky sentence no matter what...

The reference was probably made in order to imply that Chihiro sees Hakuri as a brother (or family in general) via the Tenri connection. However, that won't stop me from shipping them romantically because I'm illiterate as fuck.

ANYWAY.

FOOD IMAGERY WITH HAKURI FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE ICE LADY!!

Hakuri's sharing snacks with Chihiro on the train- he feels so safe with his samurai! And this is the first time we've seen Chihiro accept food since he reluctantly (metaphorically) shared dango with Sojo in chapter 17! He's rejected Shiba's offers, provided one-sidedly for Char, resigned himself to connecting to Sojo to understand him, skipped getting ice cream, and missed the gaming session, but he accepted Hakuri's small gesture...! I'M GOING FERAL

Hakuri is canonically the only character Chihiro's accepted emotional comfort and support from since his dad died. On screen so far, at least.

Hakuri, who was deeply traumatized when he last tried to connect with someone, feels secure enough to do it with Chihiro...

Chihiro, who is only at ease with providing comfort, accepts it for the first time from Hakuri...

The first time we see them exchanging the comfort/security visual metaphor is while they're on their own...

And it's just so casual for them to do this...!

I sounded confident when I called Hakuri the heroine of Kagurabachi in that long-ass post I made a few months ago, but... I was actually right?! Hakuri is Chihiro's first and only emotional safe haven. He's got plot-related utility and can hold his own in a fight, but he's not going to be outshining the likes of Chihiro or Hiyuki any time soon. His faith in Chihiro has been his most valuable contribution to the story- even moreso than awakening to his storehouse ability. The only thing that's missing at this point is the chance of HakuHiro being canon! Seriously!

Alright void... thanks for letting me yap again. Definitely not going to go back to writing fan fiction for the first time in 10+ years because this stupid edgy sword manga broke me. Nope, never, not me...