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apocalypticavolition · 1 year ago

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Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Prologue: In the Shadow

Well I said I might read something else before this book but apparently not. One of these days maybe. Welcome back to my reread, welcome back to the usual spiel about how I delight in spoilering everything I possibly can in this franchise. The last word in the last book is "Time", suckers!

Anyway, this book takes us firmly out of the realm of ripping off Lord of the Rings and into the horrifying realms of theoretical physics and colonialism. Exciting stuff, but that doesn't mean everything is different. The prologue's chapter icon is another wheel-and-serpent, reflecting just how important to the Pattern (and the fandom) the Darkfriend Social is.

A hundred black masks, and a hundred pairs of eyes trying to see what lay behind them.

Right away TGH jumps us into the paranoia that Darkfriends present and brings us the important thesis point about the Shadow the series wants to make: the very principals which make them temporarily effective against the Light make them unable to rely upon each other.

The fireplaces were cold, for one thing. Flames danced on logs as thick as a man’s leg, but gave no heat. The walls behind the tapestries, the ceiling high above the lamps, were undressed stone, almost black. There were no windows, and only two doorways, one at either end of the room. It was as if someone had intended to give the semblance of a palace reception chamber but had not cared enough to bother with more than the outline and a few touches for detail.

It is as if that because it is exactly that! Ish has done the bare minimum to keep his guests from losing their minds in the ways he hoped the ta'veren would. Considering the illusions that the other competent dreamers are capable of making, I suspect that Ish's inability to create anything comfortable even when it's to his own advantage is a big part of the failings of his worldview.

Servants circulated through the guests, slender, golden-haired youths proffering wine with a bow and a wordless smile. Young men and young women alike, they wore tight white breeches and flowing white shirts. And male and female alike, they moved with disturbing grace.

The zomaran manage to be one of the more unsettling kinds of Shadowspawn despite the fact that they're almost harmless. About the only thing that doesn't make sense is that Aginor doesn't seem to have included a way for at least him to get the secrets out of them. But then, we're about to see that Jordan hadn't quite figured out their deal yet at this point.

It was not what had been done to the girl that chilled him. Rather, every time he thought he detected a weakness in those he now served, he found himself preceded, the supposed weakness cut out with a ruthless precision that left him amazed. And worried. The first rule of his life had always been to search for weakness, for every weakness was a chink where he could probe and pry and influence. If his current masters, his masters for the moment, had no weakness. . . .

Bors of course has no conception of the idea that the Forsaken have plenty of weaknesses but are experts in protecting themselves from Darkfriends. Finding a way to tear them down is much easier for a good person.

A man in a high-collared, sky-blue Shienaran coat passed him with a wary, head-to-toe glance through the eyeholes of his mask. The man’s carriage named him soldier; the set of his shoulders, the way his gaze never rested in one place for long, and the way his hand seemed ready to dart for a sword that was not there, all proclaimed it. The Shienaran wasted little time on the man who called himself Bors; stooped shoulders and a bent back held no threat.

And here's Ingtar! Dude is probably spoiling for a fight and wishing he could get into one without getting in trouble to make up for not getting to be in the epic battle a few months ago.

He could read them all, to class and country. Merchant and warrior, commoner and noble. From Kandor and Cairhien, Saldaea and Ghealdan. From every nation and nearly every people. His nose wrinkled in sudden disgust. Even a Tinker, in bright green breeches and a virulent yellow coat. We can do without those come the Day.

Very realistic that the Nazis at the Nazi Party are already thinking about offing the Jewish Nazis present.

This sequence is a bit similar to the investigations in the next book, where Elayne points out that the 13 Black Ajah members they know about having virtually nothing in common suggests on a statistical level that there must be hundreds more in reserve who would have overlaps: if the hundred here are so diverse, there must be thousands more.

Suddenly his eyes narrowed, fixing on a woman enveloped in black till nothing showed but her fingers. On her right hand rested a gold ring in the shape of a serpent eating its own tail. Aes Sedai, or at least a woman trained in Tar Valon by Aes Sedai. None else would wear that ring. Either way made no difference to him. He looked away before she could notice his watching, and almost immediately he spotted another woman swathed from head to toe in black and wearing a Great Serpent ring. The two witches gave no sign that they knew each other.

It's less distinctive, but one of these two women is Liandrin - and this of course is a huge hint as to what part of the world "Bors" comes from because only a certain class of people have that feeling about the Aes Sedai.

A Myrddraal stepped between them, and they fell to their knees. It was garbed in black that made the Trollocs’ mail and the humans’ masks seem bright, garments that hung still, without a ripple, as it moved with a viper’s grace.

This chapter is a real collection of introductions to bad guys because this is actually Shaidar Haran, apparently! Wouldn't have expected that myself but hey. Specifically, he's an early iteration, probably much more limited than the later avatar would be because only one of the seals is broken.

“The Great Lord of the Dark is my Master, and most heartily do I serve him to the last shred of my very soul.” In the back of his mind a voice chattered with fear. The Dark One and all the Forsaken are bound. . . . Shivering, he forced it to silence. He had abandoned that voice long since.

No one is so far gone... Bors is meant to be our viewpoint into the usual Darkfriend. He's not a sociopath or anything like it, he doesn't have a Freudian excuse, he's just this guy who clearly wanted power on the quick and took the Darkfriend shortcut. It shouldn't have been a big deal - people have been serving the Dark for the last two thousand years without being asked anything in particular except advancing the interests of other Darkfriends - but now the big debts are being called in. He doesn't like the Shadow when he gets a good look at it, but he's way too self-interested to try and get out now. The Wheel of Time might be a story about the epic battle between good and evil, but it's not ignorant of nuance or shades of gray - but they're not where the main heroes or main villains are. It's bad guys like Bors and Ingtar, and the "good guys" like Elaida and Niall where it all lies.

Would the Great Lord of the Dark appear to them as a man? And masked, besides? Yet the Myrddraal, its very gaze fear, trembled and almost cowered where it stood in the figure’s shadow. The man who called himself Bors grasped for an answer his mind could contain without splitting. One of the Forsaken, perhaps.

The actual protagonist: Scary dude with the eyes who I just one-shotted is the Dark One. War's over guys! Don't wait for the sequel!

Some random Darkfriend: I don't wanna live in a Lovecraft novel so clearly this dude is a Forsaken.

I swear it's like the second Rand couldn't deny being a channeler anymore he decided to just shift his denial onto the next best thing when literal incompetent morons can cotton onto the truth in five seconds. (Yes, yes, Bors is actually very good at the Sherlock Scan but dude is still not good at any of his jobs.)

The man who called himself Bors scrambled up awkwardly, but halfway to his feet, he hesitated. Those gesturing hands were horribly burned, crisscrossed by black fissures, the raw flesh between as red as the figure’s robes. Would the Dark One appear so? Or even one of the Forsaken? The eyeholes of that blood-red mask swept slowly across him, and he straightened hastily. He thought he could feel the heat of an open furnace in that gaze.

Note that while Ish survived Rand's attack on him last book, he was not able to fully heal himself from the damage - or perhaps was not allowed to, but either way. Rand's made some noteworthy progress and the Forsaken are not infinitely regenerating demons.

“The place where you stand lies in the shadow of Shayol Ghul.” More than one voice moaned at that; the man who called himself Bors was not sure his own was not among them.

Again: most of the rank-and-file Darkfriends aren't actually evil. They're unquestionably bad people (and there's some low ranking folk who are just terrifying; this isn't an absolute), but given a taste of what evil actually has to offer, they don't like it! The Shadow is self-defeating because it strips away the nuanced experience of life and leaves no pleasure or cooperation in its midst. Jordan was setting this kind of stuff up this early on.

Soon the Wheel of Time will be broken. Soon the Great Serpent will die, and with the power of that death, the death of Time itself, your Master will remake the world in his own image for this Age and for all Ages to come. And those who serve me, faithful and steadfast, will sit at my feet above the stars in the sky and rule the world of men forever. So have I promised, and so shall it be, without end. You shall live and rule forever.

No one in the room is suspicious about promises coming from someone who calls himself Father of Lies because they're all so very, very dumb.

“The Dragon Reborn! We are to kill him, Great Lord?” That from the Shienaran, hand grasping eagerly at his side where his sword would hang.

"He's three doors down from my apartment, I can stab him in the face as soon as you have me out of here!" Thank goodness Weiramon will eventually take over the role of preposterously enthusiastic Darkfriend, because of course Ingtar won't be fulfilling this role for much longer. (And while it's not confirmed, since Weiramon is the only High Lord Darkfriend we know of, it's almost certain that he's the guy at this meeting.)

The man who called himself Bors blinked. In this Age or another? I thought the Day of Return was near. What matter to me what happens in another Age if I grow old and die waiting in this one?

Bors is just on fire with the cutting right through the bullshit that consumes major characters. Ishamael is all, "He'll fall eventually and I'll totally be there because I said so!" and Bors is not having it because he knows he'll drop dead eventually and then it won't matter anymore.

The man of the Atha’an Miere, the Sea Folk, stiffening with reluctance as he nodded. The Shienaran, his stance bespeaking confusion even while he acquiesced. The second woman of Tar Valon giving a start, as of shock, and the gray-swathed figure whose sex he could not determine shaking its head before falling to its knees and nodding vigorously.

Really, you gotta wonder what possible instructions Ish could be giving to all of these people. Ingtar's we see shortly and likewise Liandrin's are easy to guess because of what she gets up to going forward, but not the other Aes Sedai (could it be Alviarin? On the one hand, she is very important, on the other, having both women being given instructions here go to Shienar plus Ingtar might be overkill?). The Illianer noblewoman who gets her job before this quote, plus the Atha'an Miere guy and the diversity win nonbinary person don't cross paths with our heroes, as far as we know.

Of course, maybe we can make guesses? The Illianer noblewoman could have been instructed to start setting things up for Sammael or even for if Lanfear got Rand to buy into the glory thing and present the Horn at the city. The Atha'an Miere guy may have helped the fall of Cantorin to the Seanchan for Suroth. No clue about the gray-swathed figure, as the only hint to their identity is that they speak to the noblewoman before this. Weiramon probably got started working out Be'lal's entry to high society, and the unknown member of the Queen's Guard would do the same for Rahvin (interestingly, we never hear of this Guard again; presumably he dies or flees by The Fires of Heaven). The Tuatha'an... Maybe they send their group into the path of Shadowspawn or Seanchan?

“Firstly, you are to return to Tarabon and continue your good works. In fact, I command you to redouble your efforts.”

Without the chaos in Tarabon, a lot of the Seanchan's earlier attempts to conquer the west wouldn't have gone off nearly so well. And yet, if the Seanchan hadn't conquered half the continent for Rand, the Light wouldn't have won the Last Battle, so once again the Shadow's efforts are backfiring.

An impossible sky of striated clouds, red and yellow and black, racing as if driven by the mightiest wind the world had ever seen. A woman—a girl?—dressed in white receded into blackness and vanished as soon as she appeared. A raven stared him in the eye, knowing him, and was gone. An armored man in a brutal helm, shaped and painted and gilded like some monstrous, poisonous insect, raised a sword and plunged to one side, beyond his view. A horn, curled and golden, came hurtling out of the far distance. One piercing note it sounded as it flashed toward him, tugging his soul. At the last instant it flashed into a blinding, golden ring of light that passed through him, chilling him beyond death. A wolf leaped from the shadows of lost sight and ripped out his throat. The torrent went on, drowning him, burying him. He could barely remember who he was, or what he was. The skies rained fire, and the moon and stars fell; rivers ran in blood, and the dead walked; the earth split open and fountained molten rock. . . .

These are all imprinted commands, most of which don't ever pay off for our dear Bors, so let's speculate wildly. The first command is related to Shayol Ghul in some way, so it may be priming him for how to behave in the Last Battle when it comes. The next command is possibly about Lanfear but maybe instead it's about Egwene? The girl thing is what makes it hard to parse, but since we know she's on the Shadow's radar at this point it wouldn't be surprising. The raven I got nothing for.

The Seanchan command is clearly about how to behave in battle against them, so it probably triggers during the climax of this novel or is only interrupted by the blowing of the Horn - which Bors is presumably told to acquire if he becomes aware of it. Finally, the last instruction is probably a warning about what Perrin is capable of to keep Bors able to respond should that become a necessity. The rest is probably general apocalyptic crap without much purpose except as a necessary byproduct of whatever True Power trick Ish is using here (above all else, the Dark One's an ass).

Were all the Darkfriends who convulsed given the same commands, or were they also personalized? Seems odd to give an Illianer woman a Seanchan-related command at this point, but Ishamael is presumably playing at least something of a long game.

“If it please you, my Lord Bors, I will show you to your room.”

Zomaran will later be established as being unable to speak, which makes this particular conversation quite the accomplishment! Maybe it's Ish working through T'A'R? Who even knows.

In the back of his mind a small voice wondered if the promised power, even the immortality, was worth another meeting like this, but he laughed it down immediately. For that much power, I would praise the Great Lord of the Dark under the Dome of Truth.

Bors is lying to himself of course (such an act would get him killed much too quickly to be given immortality, and he only acts in his own interest), and is about to be on an exciting adventure into the world of regretting every decision he ever made. But not right now - the prologue is over and we'll be getting back to our heroes shortly!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #jaichim carridin #ingtar shinowa #liandrin guirale #weiramon saniago #shaidar haran

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songofsaraneth · 1 year ago

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okay now you, top 5 rote characters? 👀

ohoho OKAY here we go

5. while none individually are in my top single characters i actually do wanna give this place to the Dragons, collectively, because they were why i picked up the universe in the first place. I was working my way through books with dragons in them and actually read the Rain Wilds books first (because someone told me they worked standalone) and while I think this series is the weakest in the RotE universe now that I've read the rest, it got me interested enough in the worldbuilding to go back to the start and see what was up with Tintaglia and those serpents and ships and whatnot. I like that they're haughty and entitled and annoying. RotE dragons are much more like cats in personality than anything else, which was a nice change from the themes i was getting in the other books i worked through of 1. beasts to be dominated or 2. wise and mysteriously good/kind with very little complexity to that despite being, you know, huge apex predators.

4. KETTRICKEN. god im OBSESSED with the mountain kingdom and their concept of ruling... my love my queen my Sacrifice... uhg I love how much she grows from angry angsty girl into a monarch. and she never lets go of her mountain concept of rulership despite spending way more of her life in the duchies surrounded by people who'd love for her to step back and do less. but what really makes her my personal blorbo is the way she comforts Fitz when no one else is paying enough to attention to realize how close to breakdown he is at any given point. Hugging him. Drugging him to make sure he has a good nights sleep. Like she was the ONLY ONE who TRULY wept with him for Nighteyes and understood what that loss meant to him, not just because she had her own bond with Nighteyes but knew Fitz's went so much deeper than hers and that he wouldn't take the space to grieve that loss when needed on his own. Kettricken just... cares. about people, about the kingdom, about everything, and does what she can for them.

3-2-1 im cheating im cheating im cheating and my top 3 are of course a 3-way-tie of THE trio, Nighteyes, the Fool, and Fitz. honestly how could they not be 😭 i love them in part because i love what they each are to the other... like everyone else from Fitz's early life hurt him in terrible ways (Burrich, Chade, Verity, Shrewd... fuck man) but he imprinted on them anyway, because he was a sad scared lonely child who had just been ripped away from everything he knew. as soon as he got 1 singular crumb of kindness from anyone he fell into full devotion even when what they had him do was to his own detriment, again and again. And it's the person who is SUPPOSED to be the one pushing him into certain paths, watching him fall into prophecy and die who, counter to what you'd think, is not that kind of person. The Fool is the one who is most painfully aware of everything Fitz can do and how to point him towards it but he always somehow gives Fitz a choice about it, not an order or demand. And Nighteyes bonds to Fitz and is the one true, solid bond where he's not trying to use Fitz for anything, he just wants them to both Be. And selflessly gives up the kind of life they could have had together, with other wolves or other witted, for Fitz's sake. It's funny that these two relationships for Fitz are almost opposite in a way... he and Nighteyes are so entwined that even other Witted are disturbed by how close they are, and how little they have reserved for themselves. Meanwhile Fitz spends so many books trying to keep the Fool at arm's length despite how powerfully they are drawn back to each other again and again. Fitz throws himself into Nighteyes as a way to escape himself, but can't bear to let himself get too close to the Fool because he's afraid of what that bond would mean with another human, especially one he perceives as male. And it takes him sooooooo many books to finally get past that but thas growth baby! Anyway that difference makes it funny to me how Nighteyes/the Fool comparatively very quickly settle into a comfortable dynamic. Nighteyes accepts the Fool as part of their Pack, the Fool accepts Nighteyes as an integral part of Fitz, and they get on with keeping each other warm in the woods while trying to manage Fitz's much more complicated problems. uhg they are all my own Beloved.

#realm of the elderlings #realm of the elderlings spoilers #left out some THOTS on the last trilogy because i know too many people reading them right now ehehe #but YEAH #fitz is my poor little meow meow but they are all my blorbos #i did Not proofread this and its after midngiht and my dry eyes are miserable about reading text on screen now so thats my excuse #fitzchivalry farseer #the fool #nighteyes #kettricken #beloved #replies #ramblings #god getting sad and mad again at hap's response to nighteyes dying. i mean it was understandable. but it HURTS #give your dad a HUG cry for your PET THAT WAS THERE YOUR WHOLE LIFE

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writingdesknashu · 8 months ago

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The Other Side of Myth Chapter 47 Conceptualization Post

Hello, welcome once again to Lord Nashu's writing desk. Where I shuffle the mess around and give you a look at the mind behind my creative process. It's been a couple of weeks since The Other Side of Myth Chapter 47 came out, and while I've been a little down in the dumps, I think it's long overdue time for a Writing Concept post about this chapter!

Starting this off...

A Strike Against the Seed of an Empire is just a great title. Back in the day, I couldn't write until I knew what the chapter title was. I don't think that changed, though I do change them later title if I don't like them after all. This was not one of those cases though. I needed a chapter title that said, "Diana's fighting in this one." but also one that said, "Things are kicking off." Rocwen is a new character from this draft, introduced to bridge the plot of Kiara's world with the rest of the story. As such he represents a shifting in the global space. The party isn't just fighting to stop the Yoshiki Sect in this arc, they're fighting to stop the birth of the Yoshiki Empire. But he also represents...

World Building

Because Rocwen is old. As the story goes on, readers will come to know that Magdalea and Nandaxia are pretty old worlds themselves, that have been through several phases before this current point. Rocwen comes from a phase when the Serpent Dynasty (now called the Orchid Triumvirate) had a strong chance of being one of the rulers of the world. He was essential to that too, serving as an ally that anti-demon magic and tools couldn't best. We got a bit of this from him in some of the previous chapters, establishing how demons were once the ruling body of the Dynasty, and how Jade Warden (the triumvirates demon slayers) were once one of the many forces trying to dismantle the dynasty.

In this chapter, we get more about how he lived during those times, sharing his bed with beautiful women and thinking about one beautiful man in particular. Ruelin, who is also new to this draft, was more a scholar at the time, and what he teaches Rocwen leans into an overarching narrative of how the stories magic system shaped the world. We also get mention of the Spirit Princess again, though don't pay too much attention to her. Make a note, but don't pay too much attention. The main focus of this chapter is what knowledge about magic can help you do, which brings us to Diana and...

Runic Magic

Runic magic is something I've been thinking about introducing since the second draft, but I didn't really know if I wanted to implement it heavily into the story. As I moved forward to this one, I got to thinking about how each culture formed their magic understanding differently, and for Diana's homeland of Nithellan (one part of the Greenlands.) magic was formed through runes. There's some deep lore to that, but on the surface of it, I knew I didn't want it to be an unknown language. Magic's earliest stage in the world was more wild, so I wanted runes to reflect that. I also wanted them to reflect that scholars in Nithellan thought they were a language. My decision was to lean into iconographic languages, rather than phonetic ones. The way runes are strung together as tunes or ballads is meant to invoke this idea that each rune is a picture that comes together to tell the story of a spell.

How do you tell that story? I implied it at best in this chapter, since Diana does her work then goes to the fight, but the idea is that each rune has to have some sort of narrative bond. Take these for example:

Carefully drawn with a mouse in paint, you see what I'll call the narrative principle of runic magic. The direction doesn't matter, but the order does. Diana tries writing the second runic tune first, but out of order. The top is medium growth the bottom is mountainous blast. Before the eureka hits her, she just knows what this runes do, not what they symbolize so she writes it as "mountain blast->medium growth." which can't form a narrative principle. As it's written here though it goes "medium growth->mountainous blast." and the principle can be read like, "Something grew into an strong blast." The "something" is usually energy, but that mostly goes without saying.

"Well, daring Lord Nashu, why couldn't it be read as "the blast grew into something strong?" Because the runes have to "capture" the energy first. Worth note, the first tune has a different narrative structure. "The sea launched a blast of lightning." Illustrating a principle of observing a storm. There's some meat in there about how tunes differ in their structure based on the period they were written in. The left being more primal while the right is more mechanical. But we could sit here and talk about runic principle all day! We shouldn't though, because we still haven't talked about...

The Fight

Having both thought about how their knowledge of magic can help them grow stronger, Diana encounters (Scarecrow Spirit) Rocwen and the battle starts. There's quite a bit of world building in the banter too. Like Rocwen calling Diana's homeland the "old Angel country." And how that tells her immediately how old he must be. There's also how he notes that mages nowadays don't need to use incantations, nor need someone to protect them. That leans into a central narrative of OSoM about how "Magic on Magdalea progressed like Technology on Nandaxia." Pulleys and levers go from being human powered to machine powered, but magic. I like it though, as well as how the fight itself plays out.

Rocwen shows how scary he is through how he effectively makes the scarcrow spirit's body his own. He has essentially become that spirit and can effectively use its fear magic against Diana. Diana for her part knows that fear magic is mostly in the mind and tries to calm herself, but also knows the fear is triggered by your perception. It doesn't do her a lot of good when the fear pollen gets into her system, but that strange detection ability of hers comes up again, letting her detect Rocwen without having to perceive him.

Combining her new runic knowledge with the sealing techinique Keigo taught her before, she uses Striker Drumming: Second Verse to overcome Rocwen's lesson in magic, but not quite stop his plans. Still, things are underway as she sends a note to the others. And Diana takes a step closer to being strong enough to find her older sister....

Overall?

I was satisfied with everything I did in this chapter, managing to check a lot of boxes that I wasn't even aware of. As I use Rocwen more I come to better establish parts of the world, and I like that this arc has changed from just a battle with demons (as it was in previous drafts) into a battle that fills in the blanks of the Serpent Dynasty/Orchid Triumvirate. More of those blanks will be filled in as the arc goes on. Meanwhile, Diana takes a step further in her journey, and considering what i have planned for her, I'm easily excited.

This post ended up being pretty hefty though...so let's close this off. When I clear things off on the writing desk, I would be delighted if you were to join me, once again.

#creative writing #webnovel #the other side of myth #world building #magic svstem #female lead

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anangelofheaven · 1 year ago

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Sermon 18

Usually, I'd refer to a specific Bible quote to kick things off. And today was a pretty good one, Romans 8:15, which reads "The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption."

The message there should be clear. In case it isn't, it's that God's laws empower you, not render you powerless. I've touched on this subject many a time.

Yet life provided too superb a situation for me to pass up opining about, just yesterday in the Serpent's Tavern. So, rather than explore a subject in abstract by drawing on random scripture, I thought I'd touch on those recent events.

A group of mortals in the Serpent's Tavern were talking about forming up and targeting angels and demons. They were discussing who they'd go after, how they'd amass power, and how it was going to be their time to rule down here.

The notion was laughable. As the saying goes, in fact, "man plans and God laughs." And we angels laugh with Him.

Mortals will never have power down here. For one, they've been sent to Pandemonium for torment. For another, any power they wield comes from us. And lastly, as mortals, they're fundamentally flawed.

This isn't to say the angels have power either. We may be perfect instruments of God's will and aware of that fact, but we're fallible when He needs us to be. We can be slain, have children that turn into evil giants, even cry and get things wrong. Besides, we're down here in Pandemonium. This isn't our turf.

It's the demon's territory. But do they have power? No. They have the least power of all. Sure, they make the mortal souls down here their playthings. And yes, they've got supernatural abilities. But the entire reason demons fell is because they were jealous of mortals. And there are few clearer symptoms of weakness than jealousy.

No, there's only one power in Pandemonium, and it isn't the Lord of Lust, Asmodeus. It's plain, old 'deus'. It's God. He's the only power in Hell. He's the only power in heaven. He's omnipresent and omnipotent. He's all things that were, are, and will be. And only He has any true power. The rest of us, we're just kids at His table, able to feel nourished only when we follow His example.

The mortals' discussion of how they'd rule hell literally made me LOL. And it reminded me of one of my favorite philosophical and theological conundrums, posed by Saint Augustine. Augustine, who is one of my favorites for many reasons, particularly his youthful attitudes toward sex, asked, "if God is all places at all times, but is also all powerful, does He have the power to create a box big enough to contain Himself?"

Augustine couldn't really come to a conclusive answer. That is because, with an infinite system, all things are possible. That fundamental definition is referenced by the practice of Zen Koans, the little puzzles put forth by Zen sages to evoke both a logical notion and an illogical notion simultaneously, giving forth an experience of the paradoxical and the divine.

For the answer to whether God can create something bigger than infinity is "yes." Much like, within infinity, all answers are, ultimately, "yes." Limitless possibility multiplied by limitless time and space equals all things being true. That's God.

Yet things are as they are, aren't they? You're reading the writings of an angelic tavern dancer, sitting in your bathrobe with spots of Ben & Jerry's on it, listening to Halsey waft in from your neighbor's apartment. They are exactly as they are to you in that moment, and will never be different. And that moment, now that you've experienced it, is gone, never to come back, just like this moment is gone, and the next, and the next. That's mortality.

Follow God's example. Be the sound of one hand clapping, the diamond on the muddy road, the one hand clapping. Be as infinite as you can be, and enjoy it while you can. Soon, just like this moment, you'll be gone too.

#fantasy #god #godisgood #pandemonium #second life #angel #art #female writers #roleplay #writers and poets #halsey

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jo-harrington · 2 years ago

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I am physically in anguish right now, holy shot. Angst fest 1985 indeed. I had to reread the chapter twice and now AGAIN so I could capture all the little bits and bobs that made my brain spark and short circuit.

Get ready for this novel:

First, we need to talk about R and her grief and then the contrast with her mom. THE WHAT IF. It's unfair that grief hits people differently because when you are the one who is taking it harder...you can't be normal around the people who are navigating it easier than you or have found ways to cope. The imagery...you fucking nailed it. I could see her, I could see her apartment, I could feel the dryness of my mouth and the grit along MY TEETH. A hunger to keep going, but no energy with which to feed herself.

This line: And just like that you were in your pyjamas again, barefoot on the carpet of your childhood living room.

The way R envisions Eddie in Mickey's place. Because ALSO the pain of grief when it starts from when you're younger and not entirely able to process it...like any trauma it just sticks to you. It's written in your DNA for the rest of your life and you have fucking captured us with it. I FELT THIS DEEP IN THE MARROW OF MY BONES. The panic, the inability to do anything other than watch and see the reactions of others, not even able to realize that the pain is part of her. Simply absorbing.

Like...*gutteral noises* is this going to be some kind of driving force that helps make the decision to be closer to Eddie. Because if she doesn't indulge in her feelings, if she doesn't get to experience him in her life--those feelings that she's so conflicted over but has never felt before...they're too delicious to let go. (My brain going to the "wouldst thou like to live deliciously" quote here. OMG YES SHE WOULD.) Because right before that feeling, she's thinking about how much she wants that with him, and she's fighting the shame!

It was an experience that you would give anything to have.

So might we possibly start to see more acceptance from R because she needs to have it before she could potentially lose it for good. Before he slips through her fingers. Because she can't control what fate has in store. (The projecting of what happened to her brother onto Eddie.) Grief does terrible things, but it also could do beautiful things.

Next lets talk about the shared...pining that both R and Eddie are having on this night though. (Actually doubling back to R specifically, using that to temporarily distract from the emptiness she's feeling. So gorgeous!!!! YOU GENIUS I AM GIVING YOU ONE PREEMPTIVE SMOOCH.)

Now Eddie...the entire way you wrote his scenes there just felt like there was a static underneath my skin. The way he feels like he's out of place, he doesn't belong there. Not only at this party, but with these people, with kids who are younger than him. The uneasiness. The claustrophobia. It's palpable. Even before the confrontation with Jason and Co/Chrissy.

And then for him just to imagine R? And even though it was a split second thing, it's the tone. The escapism.

Only for it all to go to shit.

These two lines in combination:

Eddie felt his ghost leave his body.

A few gelled strands of his slicked back hair had come as unhinged as he was.

I know they're not...adjacent to one another but it's...all of the uneasiness you conveyed is sucked out of Eddie and then personified into Jason. Uneasiness becomes rabid energy, becomes danger.

Mentioning R...and the threats and POOR FREAKING EDDIE.

Am I crying because of the whole part:

He thought about the looks on all their faces when they mentioned you. A familiar shame twisted in his gut. He knew the serpent well. Felt its sting since he could remember.

...looking down at him and his table full of drugs and saying that his heart was ugly too. That the flutters it felt when the kindness in your eyes soothed him like a balm were monstrous and disgusting.

Yeah I had to paste the whole thing because I READ THAT SO SLOWLY I SAVORED THE FLAVOR. What a juicy little morsel. THE PAIN. I'm salivating.

So...is it the reverse now? Is it going to be the sharp stings of shame that Eddie feels every time he is around R's tenderness as she's finally coming to terms with wanting this because it feels so painful to him. Just as she's (again my own theories here) about to come around and start to accept him. ORRRR does she become the only balm in a world full of sharpness and pain. DOES THIS BRING THEM TOGETHER. DO WE GET MORE REGENCY TOUCHES AS THEY ARE SO HESITANT AROUND ONE ANOTHER BECAUSE ITS A FREAKING MINEFIELD AND THEY ARE UNSURE?!

Ok, now that the dump of my full stream of consciousness is over:

What an excellent chapter, oh my freaking god. So much to unpack and so much that just worms its way under your skin. The flow is impeccable, and I love that we are getting (possibly) for the first time a mixture of both Eddie and R's POVs together in one. They are cosmically connected. Soul mates. I love that we're really left on this very tired and defeated and broken cliffhanger for both Eddie and R.

The slowest of burns can only be healed by the sweetest and coolest of balms, and I cannot WAIT for the next chapter to see if we get that rough sting, that cathartic pain, or if we start to feel some of that healing and cooling of them both coming together, of course drawn out for another eternity, little by little.

OUR FATE IS IN YOUR HANDS, OH CAPTAIN MY CAPTAIN.

Huge Shoutout to Gareth for being Gareth (ok Cindy! he deserves a little action too, he's a lil cutie pie, we ship it) and the whole situation with the napkins because OF COURSE Eddie would not clean out his van. I love that. He's such a gross boy, I want to lick him.

Double shoutout to the fact that you used the calendars to track the dates because I do the same thing. I have a 1985 calendar saved to my desktop right now.

I GIVE YOU ALL THE SMOOCHES BESTIE. Oh my gourd. I know this was a hard one to write and it was ANGSTY and I know there is a whole minefield to get through, AND you've been feeling a little down. But you did it. We all love you and want you to take the time you need, especially when you're delivering this masterpiece.

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 8

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 8/? 5.5k. Series Masterlist

Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

Forbidden love is complicated. What will your desire teach you?

Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, perv!eddie, smut (18+ mdni), true love, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: heavy grief, heavy angst, depictions of depression, sibling death mention, drunk driving accident mention, drugs, alcohol, bullying

Saturday, October 26th 1985

There was a shadow on your heart.

It was there from the moment you woke up. A fog that made you not want to leave your bed. Not want to do anything at all.

You didn’t, not for a long while until your bladder forced you to. And when you did, you would move from room to room in a daze. Eyes unfocused, hair and teeth unbrushed. You would search for your motivation all day, what there was left of the day anyway.

You hoped that you would find it. Somewhere in the pile of dirty dishes or in the half eaten microwaved breakfast burrito that you could barely stomach, still sitting on your table getting stale and dry — waiting for you to come back. The quiet, hopeful part of you thought that maybe you would.

Maybe it was somewhere in the pile of papers you still had yet to grade, or in the laundry you still had yet to fold. Maybe if you sat in front of the TV long enough the right song would find you on MTV and you would feel something else besides numbness and self-loathing.

David Bowie couldn’t do it. Neither could Whitney Houston. Michael Jackson tried too, over and over. You were tempted to reach for the remote if you heard “Thriller” one more time.

You wanted to murder the sky. Grey and indifferent, the pale, cold light only amplifying the heaviness inside you. Was it mocking you? Casting down drizzle, unable to expend enough for rain?

You knew what day it was. You figured after 17 years it would be just another one, but feared for the same all at once.

Numb as you felt, your head was anything but empty. There was all sorts of noise in there. It was loudest when the commercials came on. There was one in particular — an ad for Pumpkintown, a local attraction at one of the many farms that surrounded Hawkins. Every half hour you would hear little voices sing the familiar jingle, see their bright puffy coats as they ran through corn mazes, see their little, uncoordinated hands painting pumpkins and eating kettle corn.

Grief, as you would come to know it, was loudest in the great what if. In the wondering what might have been if things had turned out differently. Would you have nieces or nephews? Would you be on your way to Pumpkintown with them instead of sitting alone on your couch wanting to cry? You would never know.

The phone rang. It cut through the air, shrill and intrusive. You sat there for a few rings, contemplating letting it go but you were afraid the noise would just return moments later. That it wouldn’t leave you alone.

You peeled yourself off of the couch and slugged into the kitchen. The breath you took before picking the phone up off the receiver was ragged.

“Hello?” you answered, your first word all day.

“Hi dear, it’s mom.”

“Hey mom.” You wondered if she could hear the difference between a feigned smile and a real one.

She wasn’t really listening though. Not that there was much to listen to in the weak “Oh yeah?”s and the handful of “That’s nice”s you had to offer. She would talk about her book club and the drama she overheard from a friend of hers. She would talk about canning vegetables and the pumpkin pie she made the other day, how you really ought to come over and have some before it’s all gone.

“Anyway, thought I would just catch up with you,” she said finally. “How are you?”

The question surprised you. You wondered for a moment if you should answer honestly.

“Oh, you know,” you said with a sigh, twisting the cord around your finger. “Just thinking about Mickey.”

It was a name that was rarely said anymore. It was met with silence, rare for her.

“Yes, it is that day,” she said finally.

You knew she couldn’t have forgotten. You wondered about the noise in her head too, if gossiping and canning vegetables helped quiet the great what if. She hardly ever spoke about it since it happened. That always bothered you.

“I miss him,” you said weakly.

Her sigh filled another pause. “I do too.”

______

Eddie flicked his lighter and ignited the end of his cigarette. He leaned up against his van in Gareth’s driveway and took a long drag, looking around the neighborhood at the carefully groomed lawns. The wet, fallen leaves brought down by the wind the only thing that littered the pristine sidewalk.

He exhaled the smoke into the damp night air, watching as it wafted across the driveway, up toward the glowing street lamps.

The garage door startled him when it opened.

Gareth hobbled out, lugging an amp. “Hey man, sorry it took me so long. Jeff left this here for you, he got his fixed so he doesn’t need it anymore.”

Eddie tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette and slid open the side door of the van. “Thanks, uh, you can just slide it in behind the back seat.”

Gareth waddled over and set the amp down with a heavy thud as Eddie opened the driver’s side door and crawled in. He took another drag of his cigarette as Gareth fussed with the amp, sliding it back in the cabin behind the long bench.

The movement paused for a moment. “Dude what’s up with all the napkins back here?”

Eddie whipped his head around. “Don’t touch those.”

Gareth looked at him — wary and wide-eyed as he slowly exited the side of the van, coming around to take the passenger’s seat like he was afraid to even ask.

Eddie held the cigarette between his lips as he dug through the pile of tapes in the center console. “Bingo,” he said, popping Motörhead’s Overkill into the tape player and slamming it shut. He flicked his wrist and the Chevy Nomad roared to life.

Eddie banged his head as Gareth air drummed the solo to the opening track. He cranked the shift stick and hit the gas to back out. They took off, cruising down the dark suburban street with a roar and a rumble.

“I just stopped at Rick’s right before you so we’re gonna have to roll as we go,” Eddie shouted over the music, tapping his hands against the steering wheel to the beat.

“Sounds good man,” Gareth shouted back, hammering at the dashboard with his hands.

By the time they arrived, the party was already raging. People still arriving in droves, parked cars piling up in the woods and down the long street outside of Tina’s house. Typically Eddie liked to arrive fashionably late, but after he and Gareth had to wade through a sea of bodies just to find Tina, he was having regrets about that. The thing was, Eddie needed a place to be for his operation. A table and a place to sit and roll was not only preferable, but rather necessary considering the party size.

Thankfully she wasn’t wearing a wig or a mask or they might have never found her on the back porch. Instead her mousey brown hair was styled in a 60s bob and tied back in a headband, completing her go-go girl look.

She led them into the packed living room.

“Move, dealer needs the table,” she shouted over the music, nudging the guy in the toga parked on the loveseat with her white go-go boot.

Her demand was met with looks of annoyance, but Tina just stood there with her arms crossed until they resigned, leaving only wet rings behind on the glass coffee table.

“All yours, boys.”

Would people know where to find him? Should he put up a sign? He supposed the best he could do was Tina’s word of mouth and their ongoing operation for everyone to see in the middle of the living room.

It turns out that was all he needed. They would sell for $5 a pop. And probably quicker if Gareth wasn’t so shitty at rolling.

“Woah, woah, man that’s like way too much. Here—” He took the overflowing paper out of Gareth’s hands and demonstrated. “You gotta use the filter as a guide, and start with like half as much dude.” Eddie rolled it in his fingers until it evened out, then he tucked the paper behind the filter licked along the edge to seal it, twisting the end in a final flourish. “See? Like that.”

Gareth snorted and took a swig of beer. “Ok Edward, master of the roll.”

Eddie gave him a look, doing a piss poor job at hiding his smirk. “I mean the point is to make money, man. If you roll them too fat it not only looks terrible but we’re just giving away weed.”

Gareth sighed and looked at him over the can at his lips. “Got it, sensei.”

“Good ‘cause we’re selling fast.” Eddie loaded up the grinder, feeling the grit of the resin as he twisted it in his hands.

His mind wandered, as it always did, to you. He thought about you at a Halloween party. Wondered what sort of costume you would have. Probably something smart like Nancy Drew, or geekishly obscure like Jane Eyre, or maybe you would go the fantasy route and be Arwen, elf ears and all.

He wondered how you would be at a party. Pensively sipping your drink, making keen observations about the partygoers. Maybe you’d have fun too, after a few more. After a song you liked came on and he dragged you out of the corner to dance like fools.

He wished that you could be here. Well, maybe not here watching him sell weed but maybe in another timeline. In the absence of the wall that was built between you long before either of you had any say in it.

Eddie tapped the contents of the grinder out onto his rolling tray and got to work.

There were so many people that had come by his table that they were all starting to blend together. How many devils, ghosts, and cowboys would he see before the night was over? It was yet to be determined and the night was very young.

What was hard to miss was the gang of jocks in leather jackets and white t-shirts, hair slicked back like greasers. There were at least five of them, and they all came in at once together like some wannabe boy band, lead by none other than Jason Carver.

It was also hard to miss the angel standing next to him. Literally. Chrissy Cunningham in huge feather wings, a tight white dress, and a sparkling gold halo.

He was certain that his gaze would be lost in the sea of people. He hoped that it would be. Hoped that they would walk right past and never even see him.

But Chrissy did. By some split second miracle, some sixth sense.

Her eyes found his from across the room. She smiled at him, bright and blinding.

______

The darkness in the room alarmed you when you opened your eyes, struggled to rather. Bleary and squinting against the white light from the television, you rubbed the sleep from them.

You sat up on the couch and wiped the drool off your face, wondering what time it was. The clock on your wall said something like 8:30, but it was hard to tell and your eyes were still adjusting.

Your stomach growled and you thought about the breakfast burrito still sitting on your kitchen table. It was still the last thing you had eaten. You ran your tongue across your teeth, scummy and in need of brushing. The pile of laundry was still there too, sitting crumpled in a basket next to you. The papers still sitting in a pile on your coffee table, untouched.

“Thriller” was playing. Again. Your hand itched for the remote but it was buried somewhere in the couch so instead you just sat there. You sat there and watched like you had done half a dozen times already today. You watched as Michael Jackson danced around like a werewolf in his red suit, unable to peel your eyes from the screen.

You watched him and thought about Eddie Munson at a party.

Thought about him in a darkened basement, the air thick with smoke and sound. Crowded with people like him who wanted to get away, muffled music coming through ceiling from upstairs. He would be there, strewn across a couch or leaning against a wall. Cigarette in one hand, beer in another. He would bring the bottle to his lips and look at you with those dark eyes. Lids heavy as the buzz washed over him, relaxing deeper into the space he occupied. He would drape his arm across the back of the couch, beckoning you to sit closer.

It was easy to imagine. How easy it would be to slide up next to him. To lean in a little too close. To feel the heat from his body as he talked about music, his bright voice filling the space between you, what little there was. To catch the scent of his clothing, of his skin as he leaned closer to talk over the noise, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

How easy it would be to turn your head and catch those lips in yours. Soft, plush, and needy. You imagined how his tongue would feel as it coaxed against yours. Smoke acrid, the taste of beer still lingering on it.

It was easy to imagine those strong hands of his, how they would feel gripping your thigh or your hip as he pulled you closer. Those tendons and bones you recalled so vividly when he’d graced you with the chance to touch him. You could imagine how they would feel other places.

It was easy to imagine that just about any girl would see him and want the same thing.

And who would he be to say no? To some girl dressed as a cat or a rabbit barely wearing any clothes, looking at him like she wanted to take a bite.

Your stomach lurched.

It would be easy. Easy for them to find a quiet place to take things further.

You imagined, for a moment, what it would be like to be her. To be in that darkened basement, amidst the laughing and shouting and chaos of others around you too wrapped up in their own world to notice how his hands are wandering. How his lips are wandering too. Dizzying as they track across your jaw, down your neck. How his tongue lathes at the skin there, the buzz from the drink in his other hand only amplifying the need you can feel in his teeth.

He would look at you with those dark, lust-blown eyes and you would know exactly what he wants. He would mutter in your ear and let his palm slip from around your waist only to take your hand. To lead you out of the darkened basement to a bedroom, or out to his van.

You imagined those strong shoulders of his. How they felt under his t-shirt and how they would feel without it. If he would even bother to remove it or if his need would render that too inconvenient.

It wouldn’t be that hard — to find a spot to sit in the back of his van. Dark and quiet save for the deep bass and muffled voices from the party raging on in the distance. To lose what little clothing you had on and crawl atop his lap. To wrap your arms around those solid shoulders as his curious fingers explored you below.

How could he help himself? When you’re right there, wanting him so evidently. When it’s something he can feel with his fingers and taste on his tongue when those fingers leave your heat. Who would he be to stop himself from giving you what you want?

And his voice. Would his voice still be as bright as he sunk himself into you or would it be colored differently — shaded with hoarseness as his heavy sighs filled the space between you? How would it color the thick night air as the pressure mounted inside of him? Would he use his words? Would he be able to when the pressure was too much? What new colors would there be then?

It was easy to imagine.

So easy that it made you sick.

It sat in the pit of your stomach and gnawed at any fleeting hunger you might have had when you woke up. Like a tapeworm.

It whispered things to you. That he would be better off with a girl his own age anyway. That you were a short-lived fascination in his fast life. That he would grow tired of you too. Things that sounded truer the longer you sat with them in the darkness of your living room.

There was shame too. Shame for even letting yourself get to this point. For feeling this way about your student of all people. For having hope to begin with. After all, he had done so many things to give it to you.

You thought about all the parties you never went to. All the darkened basements you were never led away from. All the colors that you never got to hear, and taste, and touch in sacrifice for good behavior.

It was an experience that you would give anything to have.

You thought about Eddie Munson and his boyish smile. The way his hand felt when it took yours. The kindness in his eyes. The shame you saw in them too.

You thought about him coming home from the party. Cruising down a dark, winding road in his van, taking the curves and bends with a reckless abandon, fueled by the music pounding in his speakers and the vices in his veins. You thought about his wild hair catching the wind from the window he lowered to taste the rush of being alive.

You thought about him taking one of those bends too tightly. How top-heavy vans could be. How slick the roads were. How easy it would be not to notice someone else coming around the corner.

And just like that you were in your pyjamas again, barefoot on the carpet of your childhood living room. Your heart pounding into your throat as you watched your parents from behind at the front door. The flashing of red, white, and blue from outside the big front window the only light in the darkness. It streaked across your family photos and painted the paneled walls.

You wondered what they would say about him. What all the other teachers would say when he didn’t show up to school on Monday. What the whole town would say when their papers and televisions told them he would never show up to school again.

Would they change their tune or would it only make them sing it louder? That he was always trouble. That it was his own fault. That it was only a matter of time. That he had no future anyway. You could almost hear Ms. O’Donnell. Almost hear the half-hearted comments from the others about what a shame it was, the truth of their feelings masked with a weak display of sympathy for a day or two.

Would he amount to nothing more than a warning? A cautionary tale at school assemblies? An example of how not to be?

Your hands gripped the couch, stomach churning.

It was easy to imagine. As easy as it was to remember.

______

Eddie had never been to a house party that wasn’t obnoxious. Obnoxious was kind of the point.

He wasn’t sure if it was the shitty music, or the fact that people kept kicking the back of the loveseat he was stationed at, or the drunken caterwauling from the sexy inmate in the corner as she sloshed her drink all over the carpet. Maybe it was the kick drum that pounded in his chest and forced him to smell the beer on the breath of his buyers as they slurred their orders.

He brought his own can to his lips and took the last swig of the warm beer that remained in the bottom of it. His arms felt like jello. Even still, he wished that he was more numb than he was. His mouth was cotton dry and Gareth still had not returned with the drinks that he said he was going to get half an hour ago. He was well past the point of agitated.

The whole room was packed shoulder to shoulder and smelled like cigarettes, beer, and sweat. He was cornered in it, but he couldn’t leave his goods sitting out without someone to watch them and he couldn’t leave either or he would forfeit his spot. Where was Gareth? He was going to strangle him.

Eddie glanced around the packed room, his heart kicking up in a panic. Hindsight pierced his haze. He should have brought Jeff too, but he hated these kinds of house parties. Now that he was alone with a table full of drugs and a lunchbox full of money, he was starting to realize how dangerous that was.

That’s when he felt a dip in the seat next to him.

Chrissy Cunningham leaned back into the couch with a heavy sigh, crushing her feather wings behind her. Her gold garland halo sat crooked atop her head.

Eddie’s stomach dropped.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly, “Mind if I sit here? My feet are killing me.” She stretched her legs out, smooth and polished. The rhinestones on her stilettos caught the light as she kicked them off.

“Sure,” he said hesitantly, glancing around again. “You don’t think your boyfriend would mind?” He couldn’t hide the suspicion in his voice.

Chrissy rolled her eyes and propped her plush cheek against her hand, her elbow resting on the back of the white leather couch. “He’s outside doing keg stands, I don’t think he even noticed I left.”

Eddie sat back a little in his seat, unconvinced. “I uh, brought a friend too but it seems like he ditched me.”

“Oh no,” she mumbled, scooting closer. “I can keep you company.”

He froze, noticing how dangerously close her red drink was to her white dress. The way her hand jerked as she struggled to keep it balanced. “You uh…you ok?”

“Yeah ‘m good, ‘m good,” she muttered, “Thanks for asking.”

Drunken hollering filled the silence between them as Eddie racked his brain over what to say next. The packed bodies in the dim living room swayed to Rockwell’s one hit wonder.

I always feel like

Somebody’s watching me

“Nice costume.” It was the best he could do.

“What are you dressed as?” she teased, playing with one of the pins on his vest.

Eddie swallowed, glancing down at the pearl white nail polish on her delicate fingers as she twisted the pin. “Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer.”

Chrissy batted her eyes at him. “Mm yeah, you are friendly,” she breathed, scooting even closer. She tucked her legs underneath her and rested her head against her arm on the back of the couch.

He could feel the heat from her body. Smell the sugary drink on her breath as it ghosted over his face. He was close enough to notice the patches on her lips where the red had rubbed off onto the cup. Close enough to see how the redness in her eyes intensified the green irises under her hooded lids.

She was sitting so close that he failed to notice how many greasers were crowding around the table. In fact he didn’t until one of them said something.

“Hey,” Jason barked. He reached over the table to snatch one of the joints, his smile dripping with acid as he waved it in front of Eddie’s face. “How much to leave my fucking girlfriend alone?”

Eddie felt his ghost leave his body.

“Jason—“ Chrissy balked.

“Get up.”

“I was just looking for a place to sit, these heels are—“

“I said get up,” Jason spat.

Chrissy stumbled off the couch, pulling down the white, skin tight dress that had ridden up her thighs. She almost tripped over her shoes.

“Why do I keep catching you and my girlfriend together? Hm?” Jason rolled the joint around in his fingers. A few gelled strands of his slicked back hair had come as unhinged as he was.

Eddie rolled his eyes to mask his panic. “Calm down. She’s been sitting here for like two minutes. Jesus.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know,” he said, looking around, “There just aren’t any other seats in this whole goddamn house are there?” He laughed dryly. “Not a single one!”

Eddie’s eyes flashed to Chrissy. Would she say something? Did Jason know she invited him? Was it a secret?

It was the panic in her eyes that told him. “Apparently not,” he said curtly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” He gestured to the joint in Jason’s hands. “That’ll be five dollars.”

“Oh I’m not finished with you, freak.”

“Jason—“

“Why don’t you go find a seat somewhere else, babe.” His words were a gentle venom.

“I’m fine,” Chrissy choked out.

“You know I’d really hate for those pretty feet of yours to get a blister,” he threatened. “Why don’t you go find Tina and have her get a chair for you, hm?”

Chrissy looked hesitant, eyes meeting Eddies for a split second before darting back over to Jason. Met with only daggers, she picked her heels up off the carpet and stormed off.

“Now then,” Jason said as he took her seat on the couch. The jocks in jackets crowded closer, closing off the table from the rest of the pulsing room. “Why don’t you tell me,” he started, grabbing Eddie’s lighter off the table to ignite the the joint in his fingers. “What makes you think you can talk to my girlfriend?”

Eddie seethed, his chest pounding, and not from the kick drum anymore. Where is the fuck is Gareth?

“What makes you think you’re above paying for shit like everyone else?” He snapped back. “Your daddy teach you that?”

An audible ripple of shock emanated from the jocks in jackets.

“Wow look at that boys, he’s as funny as he is brilliant,” Jason retorted. “Let me ask you something else, freak.” He leaned in close enough for Eddie to smell the beer on his breath. “What the hell were you doing with our English teacher after school the other day?”

Eddie’s stomach dropped. “I—“ he steeled his face for the lie, “Jesus I just saw her in the hallway, man. We were both leaving, why the fuck does it matter?”

“See my buddy Donnie over here has a few questions for you too.”

Eddie looked up. That’s when he recognized him. The athlete. The cigarette.

“You a little hall monitor now, Munson? Huh?” Donnie uttered, earning jeers from the others.

“See I have a theory” Jason leaned even closer, blowing smoke in Eddie’s face. “That you’re turning into a teacher’s pet.”

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Eddie spat. “You can keep the joint.”

“Ooh see that boys?” Jason laughed. “So defensive. You know what I think? I think the freak has a big fat crush.”

The crowd erupted, practically tripping over themselves now.

All Eddie could offer was dry laugh, shaking his head. His voice caught in his throat, face hot. Gripping the seat of the couch was all he could do to stop his hands from shaking. Where the fuck is Gareth?

“See look, he’s not denying it!” Jason announced to his cronies. The response was uproarious laughter. “You’re a real fuckin’ perv aren’t you?”

Eddie seethed. “You’re an entitled cocksucker in the way of my customers.”

Then there was the commentary from the peanut gallery. Even over the music he could hear it.

“He can’t even get girls his own age,” Patrick muttered.

“Yeah he’s so old he’s going after the teachers now,” wheezed Donnie.

Eddie felt the blood drain from his face. Felt a deep shame bubble up from the pit of his stomach.

“You know what, I’m out. You can tell Tina who’s fault it was.” Eddie flipped open his black metal lunchbox with one hand and grabbed a handful of joints with the other, tossing them in unceremoniously.

“Woah woah who said we were finished?” Jason said through a crazed laugh. “You’re here to make deals right? Well I came here to make a deal too.”

Eddie offered him nothing more than a glance, packing away his grinder, his papers, his filters.

“Here’s the deal,” he said leaning in closer. “You stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, and I won’t make your life even more of a pathetic nightmare.”

Eddie bit his lip. Better get her a collar then so she knows who she belongs to.

It killed him not to say it. Physically hurt him not to. He wanted to spit it in his face but the lunchbox in front of him full of drugs and money kept his mouth buttoned. They could steal it all if they wanted. They could steal it all right now and get away with it too.

Jason grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, forcing Eddie to face him. “Do we have a deal, freak? I know you’re good at deals.”

“Deal,” Eddie spat,“Now get your fucking hands off me,” he said with a shove.

Jason sat back in his seat, smoothing his hand through his hair. “See? That wasn’t so hard was it?”

______

Eddie stormed through the house. He surged through the kitchen, the dining room, the basement. He pushed through the sweaty bodies packing the stairwell and banged on all the bedroom doors, only to open them to half naked couples yelling at him from the darkness. He had been at this for twenty minutes now and still no sign of Gareth.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to just leave him. He was about to.

But then he thought about you. He thought about your brother. About how wasted everyone at this party was and how Gareth would find his way home. Eddie had sobered up plenty.

He thought about the looks on all their faces when they mentioned you. A familiar shame twisted in his gut. He knew the serpent well. Felt its sting since he could remember. The sting that came from bringing an ugly self-made peanut butter sandwich to middle school and unwrapping it in front of kids who’s moms packed notes.

Today the string came from clean cut jocks at a normal party dressed in normal costumes looking down at him and his table full of drugs and saying that his heart was ugly too. That the flutters it felt when the kindness in your eyes soothed him like a balm were monstrous and disgusting.

When he finally saw the glow of Gareth’s face by the fire pit he couldn’t tell if he was more relieved or enraged by the sight of him. Beer in hand, yucking it up with some chick dressed as Velma from Scooby Doo.

Eddie marched over to them, fuming. “We’re leaving. Now,” he barked.

“Dude what the fuck?”

“Thanks for leaving me back there for the past hour.”

“Well I wasn’t gonna sit there all night, that was kind of the deal.”

“Oh yeah? Well you could have at least told me. At least come back and let me take a piss for fuck’s sake. You know I can’t exactly leave drugs and money unattended.”

Gareth sighed, glancing over at Velma with a wince. “Sorry man, I kind of got sidetracked. Cindy this is,” he gestured in annoyance, “Eddie by the way.”

Eddie, tight lipped, waved his hand unceremoniously.

“Come on, just sit and hang out with us.”

“I don’t wanna hang out, I just wanna go,” Eddie said, looking around anxiously.

Gareth looked him over, eyebrows knitting. “Did something… happen, man?”

Eddie glanced at Cindy, at the wary concern painting her face. He shifted his eyes toward the other people packed around the fire, laughing and drinking. “I’ll tell you in the car.”

Gareth met him with a wide-eyed mixture of disappointment and worry. “Come on, man. Give me like half an hour?”

In the waning of his rage, Eddie could feel the exhaustion setting in. Feel how thirsty he still was, how his ears were ringing from the noise, how his chest still rattled from the fear. His eyes turned to pleading. “Please.”

Gareth sighed, defeated. “Fine.”

______

A/N: Fun fact, I use a real calendar from 1985/86 to outline the story and I checked out of curiosity what day the Halloween party her brother attended would have been and it actually was Saturday, Oct 26th 1968. 1985 and 1968 use the exact same calendar. I wasn’t even planning on making it the exact anniversary but it just worked out that way.

Another fun fact, Eddie dealing at Tina’s Halloween party as a plot point and the fact that Jason and the boys were dressed like greasers was inspired by one of my absolute favorite fics Oh, Baby by @inknopewetrust. Seriously, go read it. One of the best.

Thank you so much everyone, you know what to do — If you loved it, share it and let me know!

I really do try my best to respond to all your comments. 💋

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @newlips @chainsawmunson @trashmouth-richie @bebe0701 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieddiesgf @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @luna-munson83 @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @ruby-dragon @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @jo-harrington @chaoticgood-munson @edsforehead @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @emily-roberts @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @carolmunson

#ULTIMATE FIC REC #fic rec #go read this right now #eddie munson x reader #don't stand so close to me #dssctm

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 3 years ago

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Little did you know - Kaz Brekker/platonic! Crows x fem! reader

A/n: I don't know where this came from... It's a mess but its like- whatever I guess

Warnings: GORE, DEATH, TORTURE, questionable sanity, this could be disturbing to some people so don't say I didn't warn you!

I do not own six of crows or shadow and bone or it's characters

Summary: The Crows make a vital mistake when trying to get information not knowing that it would cost them everything...

(Gif not mine)

Her hair flows in the wind the only part of her moving the rest still as a serpent creeping up on its prey. Slowly, she starts to move forward as she spots her victims, some pretty little birdy's, just some unusually remarkable crows. If anything went right today the only thing that would be remarkable about them would be their downfall.

She almost yells out in excitement and joy when they wander right into her trap. They walk into her house - a dead merchant's house and go to loot what's left of it.

From her vantage point in the ceiling, she can see everything, from Nina's hands out ready to Matthias beside her. She sees Jesper's darting eyes and Wylan's uneasiness. Moreover, she can even see Inej Ghafa in the shadows high on alert ready to strike at any moment, just in case.

Then her eyes find Kaz and she almost kills him there and then.

He's in his normal attire and he hadn't changed his atrocious haircut either. Yet he's different still, it's the way he's holding himself. Like he feels accomplished.

And even though he has his neutral 'I'm bored' face on Y/n can see through him. She's always been able too and right now he's happy for an easy run. Not a trace of him is guilty or mourning and it's only been one week.

Now that she thinks about it there's not a trace of mourning in anyone.

Balling her hands into fits she nearly screams in agony, they thought she had died and they didn't even care. If she had any doubts before they're gone with just some simple observation.

Yet Y/n still waits and as soon as the Crows get into the trap completely she starts moving.

They had killed her loving parents who worked at a bakery, they had done nothing, nothing wrong. But now they were still six feet under, and she knew it was not just some casualties. Kaz was too precise for that.

She creeps up behind Inej and knocks her out cold before she can even cry out, Y/n catches her body before it can hit the floor and she carefully lays Inej to the said knowing she'll have to tie her up later.

Next is Jesper and Wylan.

For Jesper, she shoots him with a sleeping dart made out of a massively hard metal to control for fabricators and blinds Wylan before doing the same thing to him as well.

Taking out a bomb from Wylan's bag she sets it off. Running towards Nina and before she can use her heartrender abilities, Y/n headbutts her causing her figure to fall to the floor. Unconscious.

Matthias starts sprinting towards her but she simply grabs his shoulder and hits him on a pressure point on his neck and he's out with the rest of them.

It's funny because he taught her that manoeuvre.

"Kaz!" She yells in a shrill voice beckoning him downstairs, did he really leave his little itty bitty Crows alone? Ah, just like he did to her, what they all did to her.

The Crows and Y/n were on a mission and something went wrong, she was shot and they left her to die. She could have been easily saved but they left her and while they did that she remembers - the thing that she remembers most about that night. Kaz leaned down into her ear and said;

'Thanks for the information little snake.'

They had used her to get information, everything she had with them was fake. Everything with Kaz was fake. Every little touch, every little moment, their entire (established) relationship was fake.

"Come down Kazzy I helped you! Now you help me!" She runs up the stairs knowing that there's only one exit, the window. That was extremely high off the ground he would hopefully try to bargain with her first.

Even if he didn't Y/n had brought some rope because he would definitely break his legs at that height.

But Y/n wasn't a little snake now she was a majestic serpent that wielded the screeches of revenge in her venom.

She runs into the room with the window and there he was there in a chair in the shadows looking smug, but the serpent knew it was all just a facade - fake confidence.

Smiling at him she pulls out a second chair from a broken-down desk and places it right in front of him. 'Bang.' It's a simple sound but it echos throughout the room bouncing off the walls into the depths of madness.

"Oh Kazzy, have you come to help me?" She takes her lip in between her teeth and fake trembles.

"Have you come to save me?" Her voice is tiny and it's nothing like it used to be around him, yet he still flinches. He knows she's putting on an act but it still hurts him. And she wants to hurt him over, and over again.

"Y/n... We needed that information, lots of the Dregs' lives were on the line. There is so much more you wouldn't don't understand."

Laughing into the open she secretly pulls out a syringe from her back pocket readying it in her hand.

Instantly her voice changes from the scarce poor girl's voice to a very dark voice. Vengeance was held there and it was like burning your ears in the pits of hell listening to it. The sins and revenge sounded melodic but the torture that laid underneath was horrific.

"Really Rietveld? Did you think I would forgive so easily?"

Kaz's face morphs into surprise at hearing his real last name, Y/n jumps at the chance and she plunges the syringe deep into his neck.

"See you in hell."

___________________TIME SKIP A COUPLE OF HOURS__

All the Crows are tied up to some chairs in the secret basement of the house. The woman waits for what looks like patiently but really she's boiling with excitement.

This is going to be fun.

Finally, the last Crows wakes up and the Serpent takes out her playthings. Just a couple of knives and guns, but those were just her toys the real weapons are the emotional and mental pain she would cause everyone including herself.

"You know why you are here, don't you?" She walks around the room watching every one of The Crows' snarling faces but perhaps some of them held remorse.

Although Y/n was past their pity now. None of the damage could be undone, what's done is done. An eye for an eye.

"Nina darling, this may hurt a bit." Quicker than Jesper's sharpshooter's eye could catch she stabs Nina in the stomach as she yells out in pain Y/n twists the knife back and forth.

Matthias screams out for his lover and after what feels like an internity the serpent pulls the dagger out knowing that she'll just eventually die from blood loss.

Taking a quick look around the room she notices some of the terrified faces and how everyone is on edge. Good, just how she wants it.

"Mörd demjin," Matthias mutters under his breath and Y/n takes his throat in her hand and holds tight enough to choke him.

"Don't call me by the little nickname you gave Kazzy!" She yells furiously holding onto him tighter and tighter. His face starts to become purple and she can hear the yells and screams of the birdy's in the background.

'No! Let go! Matthias! Matthias! Let him go!'

"Any last words?" She jets out her lip before holding onto him tighter and she sees the fury of the ice in his eyes before there's nothing. His eyes roll back lifeless.

"No Matthias! Matthias!" Nina shrieks trying to desperately get out of her chair.

Rolling her eyes with a huff Y/n pulls out a gun and shoots Nina twice in the head.

"Now you're with your lover." She drawls on the word lover and turns to Inej. She didn't really want to do this but she had to cause him all the pain that she could. Even if Inej tried to stop them.

Swiftly she pulls out the knife Inej gave her and kindly kills her with a hard blow to the heart. She doesn't suffer, she just solely died, it's the only kindness the Serpent can afford to give her.

At this point, Jesper and Wylan are openly sobbing and screaming for their friends and for Y/n to please stop. But she doesn't, with blood all over her clothes she makes her path towards her next fool.

"If you were wondering why you couldn't control the bullets, Jesper." She drawls on in a monotone voice. She can see and hear Wylan screaming and it pains her but she doesn't let it show. She lets the Serpent take over or else this will never get done.

Fully becoming the Serpent Y/n places the barrel of her gun up to his heart and she just shoots, no emotion on her face whatsoever.

"A special venom of mine for Grisha. Had some fun testing it."

Going over to Wylan she quickly slits his throat not wanting the little merchling to suffer more than he already has.

She looks at Kaz blankly, he's shaking and he's beyond trying not to show any emotion. Tears are streaming down his face and he's gasping for air. Trembles roll off his body and the agony on his face pierces her hurt.

"Why?" Rietveld finally manages to rasp out. "WHY!" He screams ultimately reaching his breaking point.

"Because Kaz," She whispers in a sickeningly sweet voice lifting his chin with the tip of her pointer finger.

"Everything comes with a price." She pauses letting it sink in.

"And little did you know the price it would cost you."

And that's the story of Sankta Serpentina and Sankt Dirtyhands.

Words 1634

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover

(if you would like to be added leave a comment!)

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big-dumb-fish · 2 years ago

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Will it Jon? Part 4

Apologies for the late post! Been a bit busy lately.

Anyway, on to the rest of the Jon ratings. By my count, there are 27 eligible cards left to evaluate, plus all the ones in my inbox that I haven't finished the ratings for. Let's see if I can put a dent in those today.

Polar Kraken

Original rating: Big 5 / Dumb 5 / Fish 4.5 (link)

Jon rating: Nobody you give this to will ever feed it any lands, because even if they choose not to pay the upkeep, Jon still won't let it die. Once this is on someone else's side of the field, it's a 13/13 with trample and no other abilities. Intimidating, but at least they're required to attack you with it last. 3/5

Storm Crow

Original rating: Big 1 / Dumb 2 / Fish 2 (link)

Jon rating: Somehow, Jonnability is one of the few places where the humble Storm Crow and the grossly over-limited Polar Kraken can find some common ground. (Well, that and also the fact that they are blue creatures that have been mocked by decades of Magic players, but for very different reasons.) More specifically, common ground in the form of not having any abilities that would make them good or bad to give away with Jon other than a little bit of built-in evasion. This is another 3/5.

Tolarian Serpent

Original rating: Big 4 / Dumb 3 / Fish 4.5 (link)

Jon rating: In a normal, non-Commander setting, the risk of Tolarian Serpent is that it would mill enough cards from your library that you would die from decking out. In a Commander game, however, it would take twelve turns to die with this out (minus any additional cards you're drawing). And if your Commander game continues on for twelve whole turns after you give someone a Tolarian Serpent with Jon, I'd like to offer my condolences for having to stay up all night playing a card game. With a larger starting deck size, the mill from this is all upside to a deck that can use its graveyard as a second hand. 2.5/5

Bog Serpent

Original rating: Big 3 / Dumb 3 / Fish 4 (link)

Jon rating: The original post for Bog Serpent noted that it is identical to the card Sea Serpent in all but color, which affected its Fishness but not its Bigness or Dumbness. Well, the color doesn't affect its Jonnability either, so it gets the same rating of 2/5.

Icehide Golem

Original rating: Big 1 / Dumb 1 / Fish 1 (link)

Jon rating: Icehide Golem is a vanilla 2/2 for 1, a creature that is incredibly above-curve by most standards. But to Jon, there is no difference between this and a Storm Crow: each is just a small creature that does nothing but be forced to attack your opponents while drawing you cards. 3/5

Jokulmorder

Original rating: Big 5 / Dumb 4.5 / Fish 5 (link)

Jon rating: This is another one that falls into the Sky Swallower category of things that screw you over as an ETB trigger. Once it's on someone else's field, it's a massive beatstick that won't untap unless they're playing blue (and even then, infrequently)... and you, meanwhile, have just put almost all your lands in your graveyard. This is probably not worth it most of the time. And by "probably not worth it most of the time" I mean "an objectively terrible idea". 1/5

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thatsgay-writes · 4 years ago

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Adult!Toph x Adult!Reader

Summary: Takes place during Yakone’s Trial. (I didn’t know if I should put this in Lok or Atla but it’s Toph so I just put it in Atla)

Warning: Light cursing?

You sat behind the prosecution table, watching as the council walked back to their seats. After Sokka’s little speech about unique bending, which caused you to stifle a laugh and try not to roll your eyes, he might use bigger words now but he's still the same Sokka. "We find Yakone..." You sit up straighter at this, you and Toph had been working your asses off trying to finally pin Yakone down. You and Toph had gotten together around the time Republic City was being built. The two of you had been friends since childhood. You had grown up together, trained together, both of you learned earth bending with the moles together, you went to every Earth Rumble IV match, and you ran away with her. You both had danced around each others feelings for years before you got together. You two had a chance to get together before Sozin's Comet. It was after crossing Serpents Pass, when Toph almost drowned. She couldn't really help with delivering Hope, so you made sure to check up on her while the birth was happening. Of course the kiss was just a quick peck because you were trying to get her to calm down and the fact that y’all were just 12. Both of you had talked after that day about your feelings for each other and how it just wasn't the right time and that you would revisit after Aang defeats Fire Lord Ozai. And even after that happened, you both got swamped with different responsibilities, Toph being sent to Ba Sing Se to help with rebuilding before coming to the newly forming Republic City, while you went straight there and helped Aang, Sokka, and some others build up the city.

"guilty with a sentence for life." You sighed in relief before turning to look at Toph and smile, she felt you smile and returned it. Your relief was ended suddenly when Yakone stood up, this wasn't gonna be good. Yakone started blood bending the council causing everyone to stand up. Toph took a step forward before getting blood bended as well. Once Yakone has everyone blood bended and gets Toph to free him, he looks around with a smirk. "Now I want to have some fun before I leave." He makes eye contact with the members of the Gaang. "Now sadly Katara is in the South pole taking care of the children... And Suki is with the Fire Lord." You were shocked with how much he knew about your friends. "But..." he chuckles before looking in between you and Toph, shit. "We do have you two here together... Ahhh what a powerful little couple... The blind chief of police and the hard hitting lawyer... I can have some fun with this." You watch as Toph's face gets a worried expression over it. "Now lets put you here." You grunt in pain as Yakone moves you a few feet in front of a wall. "Now this'll probably hurt Toph more than it hurts you." "Wha--" Before you could ask your question, you felt a rock slams into your body causing you to slam into the wall behind you. You felt ribs break and your head slam against the wall before passing out against the floor. Yakone smirked as he looked at Toph, who had tears in her eyes. He then looked at Sokka and Aang who were glaring at him. That made him smile more before making everyone black out and ran out the building.

When Toph woke up she was in the hospital. She laid there for a minute before remembering what happened. She stood up fast, almost falling back at the sudden dizziness that hits her. When she finally is able to stand she walks slowly to the door and opens it, to see Katara standing on the other side. Katara freezes for a moment before she starts making Toph sit back down. "I can't sit down, I need to check on y/n." Katara slowly pushes Toph back to the bed, "y/n is doing alright now--" "Now!?" Katara gives Toph a glare, which shuts her up. "They are alright now but they were pretty busted up. They're gonna need you to lean on and you want to be strong for them, right?" Toph sighs in defeat before letting Katara put her back in bed. The next couple of days was filled with Katara pushing Toph into bed and giving her updates on y/n. Today Katara was finally letting Toph see y/n and Toph couldn't tell if she was more happy or worried. She knew y/n wouldn't blame her for hitting her but Toph still blamed herself. The walk to y/n seemed longer than it should have to Toph. "Where are we going?" "I had y/n healing in a healing pool." Toph's eyes widen at that statement, healing pools were for emergencies only. Just hearing that now made her mad, "I thought you said y/n was ok!?" Katara flinched at Toph's shout and put her head down slightly with guilt. "They were okay, I didn't lie about that in the beginning. But during transport into a normal room, they got jostled around too much and their rib stabbed their lung. They're recovering fine and I didn't want you to worry." Toph's anger lessened a little when she saw how bad Katara felt about it, but she was still angry. "I still deserved to know Katara. That person in the healing pool is the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, get married, have kids, the whole shebang. If something like that happens again, I deserve to know." Katara just nodded her head before opening a door they had stopped in front of. "They're in here."

Toph walked in quietly, not wanting to disturb the bender that were healing you. She focused on feeling your heartbeat, her throat tightens when its sped up more than usual, probably from pain. When the healer does leave Toph moves towards you and grabs your hand. You squeeze her hand before looking up at her. "How are you feeling?" you ask and Toph suddenly seems to explode. "How am I doing!? How are you doing!? I slammed you into a wall with my earth bending! I watched you fall limp to the floor! I was so scared and then Katara wouldn't let me see you! Only to come to find out, you had to be put in a healing pool!" Toph takes a deep breath, finally getting all her anger out. "Its just... I can't lose you y/n. We've been through too much together for that. I love you." You squeeze her hand again before tugging on it to pull her down for a kiss. "I love you too." You pause for a few minutes before calming yourself. "Actually I've had something I have wanted to give you and ask you for a long time. And this probably isn't the best moment of time but I kind of heard your little rant in the hallway to Katara." Toph blushed knowing what you heard. "So..." you say as you reach a hand over to a small bag that you had been carrying around with you the day of the trial. You pull out a ring, its made of the same space rock of the arm band that Toph use to have when you both were younger. "Will you marry me?" You say as you place the ring in her hand. Toph's eyes widen in shock, trying her hardest not to cry.

"Yeah."

#toph x reader #female character #female x reader #alta #avatar the last airbender #x reader

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devildevotee · 2 years ago

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hey there! also thanks for the tag @czortofbaldmountain!

i'll split this up into three categories so it's simple and easy. keep in mind though, every relationship with a demon is going to be different and this is purely, and only, UPG.

physical offerings:

wines, sparkling drinks, caffeinated teas, or dolled up coffee. i'm a recovering alcoholic so there's no alcohol in my house, so instead i give baphomet a strong coffee with vanilla and frothing or a tea i infuse myself. i like to show them they're worth the effort.

blood, but only if you're okay with that and aren't a recovering self-harmer or have a phobia of harm/blood. baphomet doesn't want you to hurt yourself if it's going to result in something traumatising for you.

incense (i have not discovered a favourite of baphomet's yet).

candle flame, or burning sigils in the candle flame.

anything that you would like to give them, provided it's respectful, they should accept (i'm saying should because there may be times they turn something away, this is okay and normal boundary setting).

anything presented in the altar ideas section.

non-physical offerings:

anything creative. they love art, writing, poetry -- they're beautifully supportive.

activism, activism, activism. stand up for people, be their shoulder to cry on, donate to organisations if you can. be compassionate and empowering.

18+ only obviously, but sexual acts are sometimes okay. i'd suggest you work out boundaries first before leaping into anything though.

prayer, and giving thanks where it's due.

hell, even just talking to them is important -- never shut an entity out if you want to develop a relationship with them.

altar ideas:

goat imagery, this is a given but worth mentioning (baphomet statues and plushies can also be found everywhere online if you want one)

snake/serpent imagery, also a given

blacks, whites, but also greys shouldn't be skipped out on. baphomet is both duality and harmony of said duality

saying that, anything that represents some kind of duality and harmony of duality works -- like feminine, masculine, androgyne is another one that comes to mind

sigils and symbols that have a lot of meaning for you on a religious or magical scale

skulls and bones (i use 3d replicas/vegan bones, but this still remains true)

THIS IS MEGA UPG AND VERY PARTICULAR TO MY CRAFT: trans flags, trans pins, sigils for trans safety and comfort, things that are particular to your presentation, money to later donate to organisation, etc

lgbt+ symbols and such in general is also a wonderful idea

black candles, which i find a lot of demons like, but again, also white and grey candles work too if you can't find black. they especially like when they're dressed up or have a rich scent. baphomet likes it when i get a toothpick and draw into them, you shouldn't have to press very hard to draw into it

a little place to burn incense or give offerings. can be as simple as a little place to rest a mug of tea for them, up to you.

might add to these later! but for now i hope they help. i must stress that an altar and offerings are entirely personal and if none of these work, i implore you find something that feels right and comfortable for both of you. i have disabilities and mental illness so sometimes my altar isn't tended to for a long time, and sometimes i go without a physical offering for just as long, but what matters is the relationship between you and baphomet -- not necessarily appearances and aesthetics.

Just curious, does anyone else work with Lord Baphomet?

I need resources,

I'm currently at a loss for offering and altar ideas. And just, history in general. Anything about his history his that I find is propaganda-

#bun talks #baphomet #demonolatry #demon work #if you can't tell my history in hellenic polytheism has deeply shaped how i worship #but for me this is what works :)

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daughterofzagreus · 4 years ago

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The Astrological Signs of "Avatar: The Last Airbender" characters

Part 1 - Team Avatar

♎ Aang - Libra

Libra is an air sign and Aang is an airbender. More than that, though, Libra (represented by the scales) is the sign of harmony and balance. As the Avatar, restoring and maintaining balance is Aang's primary duty. Aside from all that symbolism though, Aang's personality is a lot like a Libra.

Libra is the opposite compliment to Aries, a war sign. Libra don't really like discord (at least, they don't like to be IN the discord and chaos). They're lovers, not fighters, so they tend to be peacekeepers. This is Aang to a T. Aang is not only one of the youngest characters in the show (and therefore, the most likely to be uncomfortable with violence), but he is also a monk, raised by other peaceful monks.

He values peace and all life. Even his fighting styles are evasive and are more about using an opponent's strength against them, rather than attacking. It's something that is brought up in the Book 2 episode "Bitter Work", when Aang has trouble learning earthbending from Toph. Libras (depending on the rest of their chart, of course) often tend to respond to conflict in a similar manner, by being avoidant.

You see the pacifist in Aang anytime he needs to mediate a conflict. Examples include "The Great Divide" in Book 1, where Aang has to mediate between the two tribes (as well as Sokka and Katara). He does so by telling them that "Harsh words won't solve anything. Action will". Of course, when that doesn't work, he just lies and makes up the alternative story of WeiJin and JinWei. I don't think Aang is a big fan of lies, but it was for the sake of peace, a means to an end. Very Libra.

Another thing that makes Aang a Libra is the fact that 1) Libra is ruled by Venus and 2) Libra rules the 7th house, which is essentially relationships. Aang's relationships (platonic and romantic) mean EVERYTHING to him, and there's a reason why putting one of his loved ones in danger is initially the only way to activate the Avatar state. He's a very friendly, charming and loving kid (like most Libras) and he's the first one from team Avatar who believes they can make it through the secret tunnel, because of how strongly he believes in his love for Katara. The final point is Aang's reluctance (or sometimes downright refusal) to cause harm to others unless absolutely necessary. While others use violence, Aang is more likely to want to befriend his enemies, and that's actually a good thing. It's Libra's superpower.

♋ Katara - Cancer

Cancer is a water sign that is ruled by the moon, and Katara is a (very powerful) waterbender who draws her powers from the moon. In astrology, water signs are known for being on the emotional side. And with Cancer's ruling planet being the moon (the planet of emotions and also the celestial body that pushes and pulls the tides), Cancers are known to be so emotional, that they're often just archetyped by it. Katara is similarly emotional (see the Book 3 episode "Ember Island Players"). However, Katara being so in touch with her emotions also makes her extremely emotionally intelligent. Like Cancers and most other water signs, her heightened sensitivity allows her to almost psychically sense how others are feeling, and to know how exactly to respond to and comfort them. There's a reason why Katara has such great chemistry (when it comes to her one-on-one conversations) with so many people (Aang, Haru, Jet, Zuko, Toph). Her emotional intelligence also makes her very mature for her age and allow her to see things clearer than others, or to foresee things that others don't.

Cancers are often either family oriented, or they love and value their home (this can either be their childhood home, current home, or the city, country or culture that they came from). This applies with Katara. As a waterbender, being from the water tribes is a big part of who she is, and she has a deep love for her culture. We see how being the only waterbender in the South Pole and having no one to show her the ways of waterbending saddens her, and how happy she is to hear that Hama is willing to teach her (the only other waterbender from the Southern water tribes that Katara has ever met).

With regards to Katara being mature for her age, she's also very motherly. The Book 3 episode "The Runaway" (as well as most of her interactions with Toph) demonstrates this. The moon (which rules Cancer) is The Mother in astrology, and so most Cancers have a significant relationship with motherhood. Katara was very close to her late mother and her death still affects her.

Following the death of her mother, Katara has basically had to become everyone else's mother and hold things together. You see this as well (in a more positive light) in the Book 2 episode "The Desert". In this episode, Appa is missing, Aang is too upset to think or act clearly, Toph can't see properly because of the sand and Sokka is high off cactus juice. Katara is the one that is keeping everything together in this episode.

On the downside, Katara's mothering can turn to nagging sometimes, but I don't blame her. She's a child that's had to grow up way too fast. She has a lot of pressure on her. With water, that pressure can build up, until it bursts like a dam wall (which it's likely to do). It's the combination of this, as well as Katara's strong and fearless sense of right and wrong that lead to those cataclysmic outbursts that both Katara and water signs are sometimes known for.

♋♐Sokka - Cancer sun, but with a lot of Sagittarius aspects in the birth chart

Okay, let's start with the Sagittarius side of things. There are a lot of elements of the Sag personality in Sokka. For one thing, luck. Not only does he manage to survive (and thrive) in the entire series WITHOUT any bending powers, but that boomerang ALWAYS comes back! That's some Jupiter-luck energy if I've ever seen it.

Sokka was originally going to be a more serious character, but the voice actor decided to improvise and add some of his own humor to the role, which created the Sokka that we know and love now. I mention this because the voice actor (Jack De Sena) is a Sagittarius. Sokka has the kind of personality that provides humor in difficult times and can lighten up the sometimes very heavy atmosphere in the group. He doesn't just make people laugh, he likes to laugh as well (at his own jokes and even at his enemy's jokes). In the book 3 episode "The Ember Island Players", heeven goes to the effort of getting Suki to sneak him backstage, so he could give the actor playing himself some tips and extra jokes (and low and behold, the crowd actually laughs at them). In his words, he's "just a guy who loves comedy". In fact, I think he's one of the only ones there who just decides to kick his feet up and enjoy the show (by basically turning the situation into a date night for him and Suki). Sagittarians love to laugh and make people laugh. They're optimists who like to have a good time, and are likely to be the make-lemonade-out-of-lemons type.

He's also one of the smartest and most competent characters on the show. He has excellent problem solving skills, and isn't afraid to look at things through a different angle and try new things to expand his worldview and knowledge. This is relevant, as Sag rules the 9th house which includes, amoung other things, higher learning, truth and knowledge. He can be a bit tactless and insensitive...a little slick at the mouth, but it's largely ignored by others, as he is likeable and funny enough for others to let it go. That's quite a Sag trait.

The Cancerian part of Sokka's personality is less pronounced, but it's there. He's VERY protective of his loved ones, even before the situation with Princess Yue. He is family oriented in that he admires his dad and the traditions and customs of the water tribes. He loves and is just as proud of his culture and home life as Katara is, but just in a different way. He also always looks out for the other members of team Avatar. He can tell when a member of the team needs support and immediately jumps to action (for example, the way he immediately grabs Toph's hand to guide her in "The Serpent's Pass", in "The Desert" and on the air ships during the final battle in the series finale). He's also very loving and protective of his sister, despite how often they fight. Also, quiet as it's kept, Cancers are one of the funniest signs in the zodiac.

♉♈Toph - Taurus sun, but with a lot of Aries aspects in the birth chart

Let's start with the Taurus aspects. Taurus is not just an earth sign, it's FIXED earth. It embodies the firm stance and hardheadness of not just Toph, but earthbenders in general. Tauruses are very stubborn and like to do things their own way at their own pace. Combine that with the independence and confrontational nature of an Aries, and you've got Toph.

Aries value their independence, sometimes to the point of being selfish, which is what we get with Toph in the Book 2 episode "The Chase". In this episode, it's Toph's first time riding with the group, but it's also her first taste of freedom. Like an Aries, she hates the idea of seeming weak or helpless, and has to learn that freedom doesn't mean that she has to do everything alone.

As Toph shows us, there is, however, power and strength in valuing independence, so long as you're not insecure about independence or projecting. Toph is a wealthy, sheltered child who is blind, which, in most cases, would make her vulnerable. But it's not the case. Toph ran away once before when she was little, and that's where she learned earthbending from the giant blind moles. She learned earthbending not just as a martial art, but as an extension of herself and her senses, and as a way to see. She would have never been able to master doing that (nor would shehave gone on to do even greater things like train the avatar and discover metal bending), if she didn't have the will, bravery and self assurance to run away in the first place. That little pilgrimage (her life changing adventure, if you will...but still not with Zuko, I'm afraid😔) showed the value of independence. Of going out on your own journey of self-discovery. Much like how Zuko needed to be be alone for a while during Book 2 for his own journey of self-discovery.

Oh, speaking of "Zuko Alone"...

♈Zuko - Aries

Zuko's arc in the show shows us the transition from a dark-sided, low vibrational Aries, to a high-vibrational Aries at it's best: passionate, brave, protective, strong, innovative, a good leader, driven, energetic and independent. Zuko embodies many Aries (and general fire sign) traits, both good and bad. He can be impulsive, and doesn't always think things all the way through. Aries is cardinal fire, so it's about getting up and going, just DOING something. Zuko is known for never giving up. These are things that that Iroh, Sokka and Ursa have mentioned. Zuko is an impatient person and is very fiery, hot headed and reactionary even for a firebender.

His reactionary nature makes him prone to a bit of melodrama (and I imagine that's why it's so fun for Azula or even Iroh to get a rise out of him). This is definitely the case with Aries. They're not the only sign with a temper, but they are the most likey to cause a scene and storm off in a huff about it. Or challenge you to a fight. Zuko can't refuse a fight for the life of him. At least not until he evolves and figures out his ✨true destiny✨.

One the other hand, he also keeps that same fiery energy when it comes to defending those who can't defend themselves and fighting for what he believes is right. In these cases, he refuses to back down. Even if his chances of winning are low, he'll still keep pushing forward. That's the will, energy and drive of cardinal fire. Zuko just needs to chanel all that power into something useful and constructive, like creating change for the greater good, and not distraction. Like with fire in general, Aries (and Zuko) is useful and powerful, but requires direction, guidance and purpose, so as to not risk letting the fire run wild to cause destruction and devastation.

#astrology #astro observations #libra #moon #cancer #aries #sagittarius #taurus #avatar aang #avatar tla #atla #the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #katara #team avatar #sokka #zuko #avatar toph #toph beifong

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oisaaac · 5 years ago

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“ Six feet under ”

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Summary: Crowley decides to pay a little visit to his one and only love.

Warnings: angst, character death, sad boi crowley

Notes: English isn't my native language, so sorry for any mistakes this hasn't been proofread either.

This is very out of the blue and maybe a little cliché idk, but i hope some of you enjoy it nonetheless <3

kinda off from the original show plot but try to bare with me uwu

inspired from billie eilish's song 'six feet under'

Help, I lost myself again

But I remember you

Thick heavy grey clouds shrouded above the cemetery as if it read Crowley's mood. It was the same heavy weight he felt everyime he decides to pay you a visit. The same weight that seems to get heavier as time ticks by.

It had been a year since you died. A year that seems to be dreadfully longer than the time Crowley stayed above earth.

It was always a reminder for him how different his celestial form is from a human being like you. You always joked around that he had to see you die at some point—with grey hair and wrinkling skin while he didn't age even a bit, yet look where he is now.

He didn't expect it to come too soon, too fast, too sudden and too painful. It made him think what was really God's ineffable plan? He couldn't even ask it himself. Besides it was ineffable after all.

He should've seen this coming though. A demon falling in love with a human? Both of you knew things can't get normal. For one he was an immortal under a lot of circumstances and you on the other hand was—fragile. The moment you saw the bright light when you were brought to this world you were already hanging on a thin thread. Surviving for only a small barrowed time. Crowley always thought it was some kind of inside joke made by God, a very cruel joke.

Small droplets started to fall down from the sky as Crowley stood looking at the flowers he have in his hands.

You would've loved this. He thought to himself kneeling down on the moist grass, not bothered by the uncomfortable feeling of the contact with his jeans before staring at your grave stone.

It still feels unreal for him, seeing your name precisely carved on the stone which made his heart wrenched.

Retrace my lips

Erase your touch

It's all too much for me

But Crowley knew he would rather feel the pain in his chest over and over again rather than forget about you even if he could never be the same when he was with you.

His closest friend Aziraphale felt pity for the demon, but loving someone always has a cost to pay and he could only give much reassurance to his dear friend. Besides, he was somehow at fault considering you died in his shop trying to help him. Crowley didn't blame the angel though, knowingly you wouldn't either, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself and giving the silent treatment to the angel (which Aziraphale understood where he was coming from) for months. You would have opposed to if you knew, knowing their friendship was one of the strongest bonds you had ever seen. Luckily they were good now yet Crowley still needed more time to mourn.

You were always so kind and gentle, one of the traits Crowley loved about you. Good or bad you seem to look surpass every label knowing it was more than just what they perceive. To you Crowley isn't just the demon who had fallen to spread evil, he was your Crowley; your sassy kind hearted loving demon. He never wanted to have such vulnerability, but he let himself otherwise.

Of course he didn't regret any of it. He would need to die first before he ever regrets choosing a path with you in it. Even if he knew the moment you walked in Aziraphale's bookshop clumsily waltzing in his life only to bring this kind of pain he was currently feeling he would never choose of you not being a part of him. If only he could have had more time just one more second to see you smile, to feel your soft touch, to look directly into your loving eyes that made him feel like he was home. It sometimes brought Crowley anxiety with the thought that he didn't deserve what he was feeling with you—the joy, appreciation and love, yet you always said that he did, he did deserve happiness but the tragedy that comes with it had come unforeseen.

Blow away

Like smoke in air

How can you die carelessly?

Why did you have to go inside? Why didn't you just wait for me. You were human afterall. You weren't built to withstand heavy flames and thick smokes. You've always been so reckless for the sake of others. You knew it was dangerous, but you risked your life nonetheless.

Crowley laid the flowers near your headstone before he caressed the letters of your name closing his eyes trying to remember every detail of your face.

"Just for a second. If you're really listening to everyone's prayer then bid mine. Just for a second. Look at me you've foresaken me and let me fall into the pit yet here I am calling out for you." He looked up calling out to somebody, something or someone who was listening to his mantra. "Please!" He choked through the verge of tears. "I love her. I'll always will. If this is my sin then punish me for eternity, but let me see her just for a second." The only response a low rumble of thunder and finally the heavy clouds opened its gates letting the rain freely fall from the heavens camouflaging Crowley's tears.

They're playin' our sound

Layin' us down tonight

And all of these clouds

Crying us back to life

But you're cold as a night

It was no use. You're gone. The pain settled in his chest eating his insides. It was his punishment after all.

Crowley was soaked by the time he was snapped out of his small trance. He fixed the flowers on your grave before putting the individual red rose in the middle remembering how much you loved that red flower then grabbing the old ones to dispose them before standing up and taking one last glance of you until his next visit.

He whispered his promise that he would come back over and over for the rest of his eternity, he had all the time in his hands anyways.

Six feet under

I can't help but wonder

If our grave was watered by the rain

Bloom

Again

Crowley turned around to head over his bentley only to be met by your e/c eyes. He didn't even realized his grip on the flowers loosened as he blinked once, twice, more than enough to make sure he wasn't seeing things while raining and there you were like an epiphany standing on your red dress drenched in rain smiling like an idiot at him. You took deliberate steps closing in the gap between the two of you while you kept your eyes locked on his yellow serpent eyes that you grew to love.

"Y/n," Crowley whispered still trying to figure out how.

"Crowley," You put your hand on his cheeks caressing his wet skin with your thumb. You didn't even understood how, but you were happy. You missed him so much that you didn't say another word and just leaned in connecting your lips with his he didn't respond at first, but slowly he recognized you. It was really you, his beloved y/n. He had so many questions hanging on the back of his head, but he didn't dare to utter any of them. He didn't want to let you go and waste whatever miracle it was that brought you here.

All the muscles in each of your bodies molded into one. You and Crowley were in sync like a melody that you both practiced over and over again. Your hands made its way on the back of his neck tangling your fingers on his wet ginger locks, Crowley's hands gripped you tight yet at the same time gently trying not to break you under his touch. The intensity of yearning and all the other emotions that comes with it all swirled into one.

Out of breath you both parted staring at eachothers eyes. "I love you too." You softly spoke your truth.

Maybe whatever was up there was really listening. Either way Crowley held on you to the very last second of your borrowed time.

"We'll be together again someday." You reassured him while you smiled. Crowley just studied your face and for the first time in a while genuinely smiled and was happy. And it was enough as goodbye for the both of you... for now.

Help, I lost myself again

But I remember you

Kinda long A/N: honestly idk what to feel about this if its good or not in my 19 years of existence i always wrote fanfics imagines and stuffs but usually i usually put it up then delete it later because i dont have any confidence of my work but im trying again. this is my first time posting in tumblr though.i hope this is good, like it gave you feels because it did when i wrote it. please don't kill me that i made crowley straight oof 🥺 sorry for any mistakes again! thank you for taking time on reading this and if you reblog and press the heart thingy thank you so much i will love you forever 💕

#crowley x reader #crowley #anthony j crowley #good omens #david tennant #aziraphale #crowley imagine

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hoseokslefteyebrow · 4 years ago

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House Of Cards || K.SJ || 5

Beansprout's cave

Pairing : Kim Seokjin X Reader

Genre : nothing specifically yet

Summary : When a war threatens the world of Mythica, the four greatest tribes are forced to work together in order to defeat the darkness. You and Jin are from two different tribes, two different backgrounds and are expected to stand together in order to save everyone you love. Will you two put aside your diffrences in order to save the world or will you fail?

Wordcount: 1.3k

Info Chapter | House Of Cards Masterlist | Next

" Do you even see anything in here?" Jin asked as the two of you walked down into the cave.

It's been a few days since Sapphire and him moved into your home and he's mostly been outside of the cave-part of your home with Sapphire. Now that he's seen rabbits go out alive and go back alive too, he's become curious about what it feels like being down there. The two of you were currently walking down the cave's path.

" Not really. But I can feel the energy flow trough the walls and if you focus wel enough, you'll feel the movements around you trough the floor." You said.

Jin blinked.

You can feel the movements around you trough the floor?

" I'm starting to think that you lost your sanity a while back." Jin deadpanned.

You chuckled, the sound vibrating off the walls.

" I'm starting to think that the Pegasus Tribe is more distant from their own elements than expected." You bit back, tough it didn't feel like an offense, more like a curious statement.

" I geuss. I mean, I doubt I can do anything like what you can do." Jin said sadly.

You hummed in response.

" Tell me Jin, what can you do trough your soulmates bond?" You asked.

" Not much really. I can feel her emotions, when she's near, and I can hear her toughs. That's it, I think." Jin said, tough it seemed as if he was more of a question.

" Really that's all?" You asked, obviously suprised.

" Why do you sound so suprised? Can a soulmate bond be more than?" Jin asked, also suprised.

" Well, yes-" You said, cutting yourself off and pressing your palm against the wall as you stop walking.

Jin is about to ask you why you stopped, when the cave is suddenly dully lit again by flames.

He raised his eyebrows in suprise, Beansprout wasn't here, meaning you did this.

" How even-?" He starts.

You nod with a smile, taking your hand off the wall, tough the flames don't go off.

Jin watches in wonder around the cave, there's much more detail to it now that he can see it clearly.

The walls which he had believed were cold and naked, were actually a warm brown colour with moss growing here and there. Very few small plants are growing all over the place, and small animals hop by Jin's feet.

They're not shy like the animals who aren't soulmated in his own Tribe's space.

" The soulmate bond can be a lot more than just a connection." You smile, as Jin turns back to you with an amazed look.

You're now holding a rabbit, and while they usually feel unsafe when they're taken off the ground, this one seems to like being close to you as you softly pet his head.

" Wait, you can use Beansprout's power?" Jin asked in perplexion, never had he met anyone who could do that.

No one in the Pegasus Tribe or the Unicorn Tribe could, not even the chiefs.

" Yes, I can use his, and he can use mine." You tell him.

" But, how?"

" Before the days where people could build houses and stables, they used to live on whatever magic they were in touch with. There's the four elements all our soulmates are in touch with, whenether they're aware of it or not, and then there's also the rare cases around it, like poisen." You said as you set the rabbit down again, who still stuck close by you.

" Wait, you mean to say that Sapphire could like, bend water?" He asked excitedly as the both of you walked again.

Your eyes widen in realization.

" Wait, Sapphire is not able to waterbend or something alike?" You asked, obviously suprised.

Jin swallowed.

"No? Is that bad?" Jin asked.

" No. I don't think so? I'm just suprised." You said as you two were now at the bottom of the cave.

The space was at the bottom was bigger than he expected, tough he had always seen it behind the glass, it now seemed to be around twice the size of Sapphire's old stable.

" It's prettier here up close." Jin said as he looked around.

You nod, no words leaving your mouth.

After a few moments of just playing and cuddling with the animals there, Jin's toughs leave to you.

He can see how the animals aren't carefull around you, not in the way they are around him. He can almost feel the connection you have with them. They don't see you as a person, more like an animal, a part of them.

The few animals who are near Jin are curious of him, but they don't cross any lines by getting close to him. The animals near you are all too happy to plop down in your lap and have you run your fingers trough their fur.

" Come sit here." You tell Jin, startling him out of his toughs as you pat the spot beside you.

He doesn't say anything, just does what's asked.

" They're all introverts. They won't reach our to you, you'll have to reach out to them." You tell him as you lift your hand where a tiny mouse peeks at him.

He once again doesn't say anything, instead holds out his hand to touch your own.

To his suprise, the mouse sniffs it before running over his arm and settling down onto his shoulder.

He smiles, and soon reaches out to the other animals as well, some even get bold enough to also plop down in his lap, only to look up at him and see if he minds. Once they know he doesn't, they curl up in a ball of fluff and simply rest there.

Now that he's practically surrounded by it, he realizes.

The animals here aren't simply here because you're some sort of animal magnet. They're here because they can feel the warmth of your soulmate bond with Beansprout. It's so strong, that even Jin can almost feel it, being basket whitin the whole thing.

" Hey Y/N?" He asks, an idea sprouting in his mind.

You hum in response.

" Do you think you could teach me?" He asks, now also turning to look at you.

" Teach you what?" You ask, holding eye contact.

" On how to make my soulmate bond stronger. Like yours." He asks, even tough it's more of a statement.

You blink at him before smiling.

" I mean, yes. But I could also ask the teacher's here. They know how to learn you best, I think." You tell him.

" Did they teach you too?" He asks.

You shake your head with a sad smile.

" Only partly. My parents were pirates and because I caught a lot of attention from Sea Serpents and animals alike, they decided they did not want me. They dropped me off in the Death Valleys, and that's where I found Beansprout. Or well, he found me. I was just crying the whole time if I'm honest. But what could you expect? I was five when they dumped me there. Beansprout was the one who took care of me. As a human I had a hard time there, but I was safe in his cave. I only moved here when I was eleven, I had heard about the Dragon Tribe and wanted to check it out. We ended up staying here. And I got taught the little things I did not know about our bond." You tell him.

He's suprised to say the least. You were way stronger than you look.

" Wait, you used the bond the way our ancestors did. For survival." He realizes.

You think before nodding.

" I mean, yeah, I geuss so." You shrugg.

He smiles excitedly.

" I want you to be the one to teach me Y/N."

" What? Are you sure?" You ask perplexed.

He nods enthusiastically.

" Yes. It has to be you. I'm sure of it."

" Okay then. It'll be quite the trip. But it'll be worth it. We start in three days. So you better be ready by then."

#bts #bts x reader #idkeitherman #kim seokjin #bts housemates au #jin x reader #bts ff #bts fantasy au #bts magic au #bts magic #bts soulmate au #bts fluff

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