#...I have been trying very hard to contain myself and not post *too* much about baby bee

[ed-recovery-affirmations]

I just made myself a cup of a new tea, one from a set that a friend sent me. I was super curious to try it with and without milk in it, so after I take a sip without, I'm going to add milk to my tea.

That may seem like such an inane little story to post on a blog, unless you have an eating disorder. I'm sure many of you know what a big deal milk in tea can be, and what an important act of self-love it is.

It was poured into many of our ears, approaching teenhood in the mid-2000's, not to "drink our calories." For those of us whose restriction was weight-based, many of us practiced filling ourselves with water, with our coffee black and unsweetened whether that was how we liked it or not, and with tea that never contained milk.

Like many people who've struggled with binge eating and with restriction, I struggle with creating anxiety-inducing rules about when is okay to eat, especially if I'm between meals and worrying if I should allow myself a snack, or if it's okay to quench my thirst with anything other than water. This is especially true between meals. For some reason my brain has accepted the "extra" caloric intake as part of a meal, but still balks at the idea of introducing these things independently into non-meal parts of the day. I would like to note that my chronic illness and my body's reaction to food has also influenced this weird relationship between me and my favorite treats, such as a piece of candy, or a beverage that might happen to contain a greater-than-zero calorie count.

But tonight, before bed, I want to try this tea. And it sounds like one that'd be super tasty with milk, as it has cocoa powder and vanilla in the blend. So I let my tea cool in the room with me as I type this, telling myself that I can get up and go back for milk after I taste it.

Now I have gone to the kitchen.

Now I have poured in a splash of milk and tasted. It's soy milk, as regular milk sometimes hurts my stomach and I don't want my sleep to be disrupted. Due to my chronic illness, this is still something I have to think about, and I'll be honest, I hate it. Things like this make it so hard to tell myself I can let go of my food fears, because my brain knows that some of my food fears will turn out to have validity, and so what if they all do?

Now I have poured in another splash. Tasted.

Now I have poured in a third, much larger splash. Tasted.

Oh, this is it. This tea tastes like a warm dessert. But now it's too cool, so I need to microwave it back to its best heat. I used to not want to microwave my food. As a teen I heard a hippie say that microwaves destroy the nutrients in your food because the radiation breaks down their molecular structure. This is absolutely false. In fact, it's been disproven that microwaves break down nutrients any more than other methods of heating food, but for a long time I believed it. And even after I learned the truth, I still found it hard to convince myself it was okay to use microwaves for a very long time.

I have just finished my tea in my room. I took the time to identify that I wanted it. I took the time to truly taste it in several different ways, consider how I felt I wanted it and bring it to those specifications. It wasn't planned for any specific time or day, but I agreed to give myself this the way I wanted it anyway. I've been drinking my coffee with milk every morning, too. I actually like black coffee, but I like it better with milk. And I give myself things throughout the day that I enjoy, to enhance my experience of my existence. Life is hard, and it's okay to allow yourself, to the fullest extent you can, the small joys that bring you through the day.

I wanted to share this with you. I hope you don't feel the crushing weight of morality when staring at a bottle of regular soda and the sugar-free, when you wake up with your morning coffee, when your self-care regimen includes a cup of tea. I hope you practice actively giving yourself the love you need this week. And I hope you give it to yourself exactly the way you need it.

#recovery diaries #ed recovery #restriction recovery #self care #food cw #long post

[crevicedwelling]

I have a pretty bad fear of wasps. Nothing crippling, I can observe them from a distance just fine, but it does make being outside on warm, sunny days a stressful experience. I want to work on it, because I know they're just like any other animal: they're just minding their own business 99% of the time, they're not out to get you, and they deserve a place on this world as much as any other. And I know some can even learn to recognize/"befriend" people, which I think is super cool. I actually followed your blog partially because you post about wasps and I knew it would help to regularly expose myself to wasps that way.

I still sometimes freeze up or get really jumpy when I see a wasp near me. But I can tell I've been getting better. Just the other day I went to the Renaissance Festival and was carrying around a big cup of mead (a.k.a. wasp attractant) and, yeah, I was followed by a couple wasps. At one point two of them just hung out on the inside of the cup for like five solid minutes licking it clean.

If it weren't for your blog I would've been so terrified I probably would've thrown the cup onto the ground and waited from like twenty feet away for the wasps to leave. But I DIDN'T. I carried it around with me and patiently (and anxiously) waited for the wasps to fly away whenever they did show up.

It's really hard to make myself just stay still when I see a wasp near me. Earlier today I could only do so for maybe 30 seconds before I had to stand up and wait nearby for it to leave. But I'm really trying to get over that fear, and I'm slowly getting better, and I think I owe your blog quite a bit in that regard. So, thank you.

I believe the most common wasp here (at least, the one I was dealing with in those two anecdotes) is some kind of Vespula yellowjacket, probably Vespula maculifrons. So... I dunno, if you have any fun facts or pictures or videos about yellowjackets (either V. maculifrons or yellowjackets in general), I'd love to hear/see those. And if not, that's okay too <3

I think a fun fact that most don’t appreciate about yellowjackets is how much they parasitize one another!

Vespula maculifrons here is a widespread, common species in eastern North America. queens of this species do the usual overwinter under log, find a hole, make a nest deal. they scavenge, they hunt, they feed on nectar. pretty standard Vespula.

V. squamosa is a species that’s very common locally, and when you see workers out and about they act much like other yellowjackets. however, their queens (no photo) are huge, hornet-sized orange wasps quite different from the workers. curiously, V. squamosa don’t make their own nests about 85% of the time. instead, most of those big bruiser queens wait a few weeks longer to come out of hiding, and track down a new Vespula maculifrons nest founded earlier in spring. she’ll march into the smaller species’ nest, chew the original queen to pieces, and bully her daughter workers into submission. she then lays her own eggs in the nest, and produces her own workers who forage alongside the V. maculifrons workers, and over time the colony becomes only made up of V. squamosa. V. squamosa will even take over nests that have already been usurped by another facultative parasite, V. flavopilosa, which usually targets V. maculifrons as well!

in the warmera south, V. squamosa nests can become massive superstructures housing dozens of queens, used year after year. if you’ll allow me a moment of poetic speculation, most of these ancient castles must therefore contain the remnants of a tiny V. maculifrons nest at their core, the gnawed ruins of a conquered house.

#bugs #wasp #hymenoptera #yellowjacket

[sailoryooons]

Break | ksj (m)

☾ Pairing: Witch!Seokjin x cursed!reader

☾ Summary: Seokjin has been at your side for the last few years. He’s your closest friend, and the one person you don’t think you can live without. But what happens when you discover that he might be the source of the curse he’s been trying to help you escape from?

☾ Word Count: 18,990

☾ Genre: Supernatural, smut, angst

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Death and implied accidental murder of a sibling, childhood trauma, creepy vibes, heavy angst, a lot of internal monologue featuring angst, physical and verbal abuse from members of the town toward reader, sometimes confusing mentions of magic systems, explicit language, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple play, oral (m. receiving), rough fucking from behind, dom/sub dynamics if you rEALLY squint, subspace/blacking out post sex, unhappy and ambiguous ending!!!!!!

☾ Published: May 22, 2023

☾ A/N: Hi hello this is one of the most random things I’ve ever written. I made a last minute choice to nosedive into this fic at the last second, which was certainly a choice. While it’s not my favorite work because of how hard I struggle to write it, I have a feel people are going to like it regardless and I shouldn’t be so hard on myself about it. Once again, Hali writes way too much for a small project and doesn’t even dip into the lore the way she wanted to! Thank you to @here2bbtstrash who was the amazing beta on this and fixed easily over 200 errors that I made while rush typing this. I handed this over unedited and unread from myself and they put this through the wash to have it in tiptop shape! 

❀ A/N 2: M created their own Little Hut rhyme and I have opted to feature it here for reader’s enjoyment:

Little hut, little hut

Killer dick game

Little hut, little hut

All men is the same

Little hut, little hut,

Murdered your twin

Little hut, little hut

Time to fuck Jin 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | A Spring Offering Collab

Seokjin is good at holding grudges. Even as a child, his mother always said he had a tough time letting things go. He never knew how right she would be. His mother’s words are all he can think about as he storms through the dark of the forest, shadows whispering about him as he looks for the lone hut in the very dark of the woods. 

Little hut, little hut

Hidden in the wood

Little hut, little hut

Up to no good

If his parents could see him now, he knows they would be broken. Tear-streaked and shaking, a lost boy alone in the woods and drowning in anger so hot that the ground scorches beneath his feet. Looking for a salve. Looking for vengeance. 

Little hut, little hut

Alone in the gloom

Little hut, little hut

Silent as a tomb

Blood witches are dangerous. Seokjin knows this, everyone knows this. A blood witch is the reason why his parents are dead and he is storming through the darkness in the throes of madness. But Seokjin is only thirteen and full of pain and desperation, vowing to never let something happen like this again. If he has to use a devil to defeat a devil, he will. 

Little hut, little hut

Across the dark stream

Little hut, little hut

Wait for the scream

A dark stream wends its way through the trees. Seokjin gets a running start and jumps across the whispering waters. When he lands on the other side, he waits. It took a lot of searching to find someone to tell him how to find the witch in the woods. No one comes here, especially not in the dead of night on Beltane. 

They say only evil comes from the little hut in the woods. Seokjin knows now that it isn’t true. Evil comes from anywhere and everywhere, even from the people that one least expects. Evil killed his parents. Evil is why he is alone, crying on the edge of the stream, waiting for the sound of a banshee's call. 

He hears it then. A one-note wail, thin and high-pitched. His blood goes cold and the fight in him nearly goes out at the sound. His heart begins to pound so loud that it’s all he can hear, the thundering beat of panic and terror as he realizes what he’s about to do. 

“Little hut, little hut,” a voice that he cannot see calls to him. There is no hut that Seokjin can see. Only omnipresent darkness, cloying the air in front of him. A tingle skitters over his arms and he becomes acutely aware of another presence there with him in the dark. “I call to thee. Little hut, little hut, come to me.” 

Seokjin blinks rapidly a few times and sees the outline of a hut in front of him. It has a blurry shape like it’s really the idea of a house. It’s so shadowed and opaque that he’s not entirely sure if it’s really there. He walks toward it anyway, one foot in front of the other, looking at the hut. 

If a home could be a phantom, he thinks this is what the hut is. There is a vibrational pull here, a dull buzz in his veins as he gets closer and closer to where the blood witch lives. His stomach turns and his instincts beg him to leave. There is evil in this place. He knows it. Can feel its oily presence like a poisonous slick in his veins. 

A door - or rather what he imagines is a door shape - stands open in the hut. Inside is eternal darkness like Seokjin has never seen before. The buzzing in his veins has become stronger, an itch he can’t scratch. A ringing in his ears. 

Sometimes to beat evil, you must use evil. So Seokjin steps into the house despite all the reasons he should turn around and run. Because he is alone, he is in pain, and he needs some sort of penance. Justice. 

So he asks the blood witch for a favor. 

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

-

When the rock hits you right at the top of your spine, you know it isn’t an accident. All the same, you spin on your heel and look at the edge of the lake where the kids are skipping stones. They squeal and look away from you, huddled together as they giggle and look over their shoulders with frantic and excited faces. 

You clench your fists and keep going. What can you do to a group of kids? Tossing them into the lake while you’re an adult seems unfair, though it certainly crosses your mind. It isn’t necessarily their fault that they were taught to have such hate in their hearts at a young age, after all. 

So, you keep going, grinding your teeth as you march up the slope toward the main pathway that cuts through the park, gravel crunching beneath your feet as you quicken your strides to put distance between you and the cackling children. You’re not positive they won’t throw another rock at you, and you think that it might send you over the edge.

Early preparation for the Beltane festival is in full swing all over the park. There are trucks unloading carts and piecing together stalls, vendors and contractors with clipboards walking through spray painted grass with city officials, and a giant maypole waiting to be constructed. 

Living in a town of witchy folk can be fun, you suppose. The only downside is that most of the witches in your town despise you and think you’re an abhorrent blight to the earth. If killing and sacrifices hadn’t been outdated and frowned upon, you’re sure they would have stuck you to an altar as a child the first time you showed signs of being a leech. 

Leech. 

It’s an unkind thing to call witches who siphon magic. It isn’t something you can control - it isn’t even something you were born with. Most witches who siphon magic are born that way. A sort of magical defect in the way they interact naturally with the world. 

Most think of siphoners as a plague to the witch community. Thieves and monsters who can only feed on magic to make magic, a perversion of the natural balance of things. The way you look at it, witches who siphoned aren’t really any different from the natural order of the world. All living things need an energy source: food for animals, sun for plants, bacteria for amoebas. It isn’t different, really. 

Perhaps you would not be so kind to leeches, though, had you not began your existence as a siphoner at thirteen years old. 

It isn’t a night that you enjoy remembering, but it is certainly a night you can’t seem to forget. One moment you could command your magic like most other witches. Most, because you were a blood witch with raw talent and a powerful relationship with the earth’s energy. 

Blood witches were as revered as they were feared, witches who needed no spells. Who could use the magic within them instead of their connection with the earth to conjure. To blood witches, all other witches were leeches, really. You didn’t tell that to your coven, though you thought about the irony often. 

Your blood magic had vanished, though. It happened while you lay asleep in your bed, pressed up against your twin sister. Twins were a special thing in covens, a rarity in the magical order of the world that was seen as a good omen. There was a connection you shared with her deeper than the connection to your own magic, a bond that rooted the two of you together. That made you seek one another out for comfort. 

It had been storming that night and you had sought out the warmth of her bed and the vanilla sugar of her hair to soothe your nerves. You didn’t like storms and thunder very much, but she was wide awake in her bed, watching out the window as purple lighting cracked across the sky and thunder shook the house. 

You’d slipped into her bed without a word and she stood guardian over you, hand tucked in yours as she watched the sky light up. You remember her laying down next to you after the storm passed. The warmth of her breath on your cheek as she fell asleep. The hum between the two of you, soul recognizing soul.

She’d been dead by morning, magic siphoned and drained dry in the middle of the night. 

The memory of it is metallic in your mouth. You head toward your apartment, hands tucked into the pockets of your jeans, head down. Beltane always makes you think of your sister. Makes you think of the morning you woke up on your thirteenth Beltane to find her cold and dead, magical signature gone. Severed. Torn away from you. 

Losing your ability to generate magic was only second to losing your sister. You still feel adrift fifteen years later. Moving through the world with a piece of you missing. Two pieces of you, if you count the fact that you can feel the magic around you but not reach for it. You never reach for it, though you suspect that no one believes you.

Except maybe Seokjin. But even he doesn’t know the story of how you became what you are. All he knows is that you can’t create your own magic, and yet he’s never shamed you for it. Never turned his back on you, or berated you or bullied you. 

That sort of kindness is a rarity in your world.

Your small northeastern town is easy to navigate. There’s not much that happens that doesn’t immediately become the knowledge of all citizens, and there’s not really a way to get lost unless you’re a tourist coming to visit the country's spookiest and most magical town. The locals are pretty firm believers in magic, but the out of towners don’t really believe. They just want camp and kitsch. 

It’s busy season, the streets filled with people buying decorations to celebrate Beltane, restaurants full of tourists trying out local fare between going shop to shop. The festivals always draw a big crowd to your corner of the world, making it easier for you to blend in with all the rest of them. It almost makes you feel normal when someone doesn’t recognize you and immediately scowl. Sometimes you can even get away with eating at places that wouldn’t normally serve you, the workers too busy to really look at your face and see you. 

A few people have taken pity on you outside of Seokjin. Namjoon and Jimin would never turn you away, always welcoming you with open arms, a warm cup of tea and free books for as long as you like at their bookstore. You’re not technically allowed in the metaphysical store on Fourth, but as long as Yoongi is working, you can walk through the rows and rows of crystals, grimoires, spices and charms. Seokjin is where you’re really home, though, his bakery a place of safety and fresh-smelling sugar cookies. 

It’s where you go now, sticking to the shop windows and away from the tourists flowing all over Main Street like ants. There’s a line stretched out the door when you get to Magical Moon Bakery, and Jungkook looks helpless behind the counter as he nods while taking an order, wide-eyed and terrified. 

Seokjin is at the delivery counter, flour staining his cheek and brow as he nods politely and hands a box of cupcakes over to his customer. As though he can sense you, he lifts his head and swivels, eyes scanning until they land on you, immediately shining. Your stomach leaps the way it often does around him, especially when he breaks out into a beautiful smile and jerks his thumb at an apron.

You roll your eyes. You’re not technically an employee at the bakery, but you help often enough that you tease Seokjin sometimes that he should start paying you. You never mean it, of course. Your reward is his unearned and unlikely friendship, and the fact that his friends have taken you in even when other covens have turned their backs on you. 

Perhaps if he’d grown up here he’d hate you. It’s a thought you have often, even when you’re pulling the loop of a lavender apron over your head and tying it around your waist. You can’t imagine Seokjin ever hating you for no reason, but sometimes you wonder if he had the influence of the other kids of your town if it would be different. 

“Can you take over the order counter?” he asks, the blush on his face the only sign that he’s getting a little frazzled. You nod and he winks at you, leaning over to press a quick, chaste kiss on your cheek. “Worldwide best friend.”

“Mhmm,” is the only response you manage to string together, flustered by his proximity. 

It’s no secret that Seokjin is one of the best looking men in town. Even among witches, who are unnaturally beautiful to begin with, he stands out. Dark, silky hair swept back off of his forehead, dark eyes with a spark of caramel right around the pupil, lips full and lush like Aphrodite, and a face molded from the finest clay, glazed and perfected. 

Loving him isn’t hard. He’s as kind as he is beautiful, and Seokjin is silly. Able to make you laugh and draw you out of the melancholy that is permanently affixed on your person. It’s been that way since you met in your early twenties right after he moved to town, and you’re grateful for it. 

Even if loving him is pointless. He can never be yours - would never want to be yours in that way, anyway. 

So you settle for less. Settling for crumbs is what you’re good at. What people think you deserve, being the little leech that you are. 

No one you’re serving at the bakery knows you’re a leech, though. All they know is that they are eager to try the best baked goods in town, wondering at the menu as each item has a list of things it’s good for. Rose scones to make someone fall in love, marshmallow fluff cupcakes to soften the blow of bad news, gumdrop cakes to summon rain. 

Everything on the menu has a charm to it, both literally and figuratively. Seokjin is wildly creative in his carefully crafted menu, and he imbues magic in everything he makes from the eggs to the whipped frosting. 

Being here is nice. Jungkook grins when he sees you behind the counter, happy for the help. He still gets overwhelmed behind the till, and he’s more than happy to step back and chew his lip nervously when he processes a discount wrong. You’re up next to him before he can ask for help, typing on the screen while gently walking him through it again.

Jungkook is a good kid, an elemental witch who is prone to cause rainstorms when he gets stressed. For now, he is a bottle of sunshine, thanking you shyly and letting you know that he saved you a bag of butterscotch cookies in the back. 

“I put in a little extra sunshine,” he promises. By that, you know that he means magic. To give you. You open your mouth to scold him but he shakes his head furiously, long, wavy locks shaking. “I wanted to do it. Please don’t yell at me.”

That gets you. It’s hard to be mad at him, especially when anger is likely to set him off into a rainstorm. Jungkook’s round eyes are pleading and he pouts, a tactic you know he has learned from his boyfriend to use as a weapon. You think about sending Taehyung some choice text messages but instead, thank Jungkook for the cookies and continue to help him.

This is what keeps you going most days. The unfettered kindness that Seokjin and his friends show you. None of them are locals to town, but they had formed their own coven a little at a time, a circle under the broad umbrella of the town's overall witch population.

Covens are difficult. You’re both in and not in Seokjin’s coven, an unofficial member by friendship. But you don’t practice anymore - won’t let yourself - so you’re on the outside looking in most weekends and during spiritual times of the year. 

But by witch standard, you are a part of the covenstead of the town, the larger collective of witches who are loyal and responsible for one another, all answering to the high priestess. Who has begrudgingly let you stay as a member of the covenstead for the sheer fact that you’re her niece and nothing more. 

When the rush of customers and crinkling to-go bags slows, you lean against the counter and reach a hand out just as the door to the back swings open. Seokjin has a glass bottle of soda ready for you, and he blinks  in surprise when he sees your hand ready for it. You’re a little surprised as well. Though you have no magic on your own, you still sometimes predict things before they happen. Or at least, your instincts do.

“It’s freaky when the two of you do that,” Jungkook comments, eyes bouncing between you and Seokjin as the older hands you the bottle. “You’re always so in-tune.”

“She’s a witch,” Seokjin snorts, leaning against the glass case of mostly empty dishes as he takes a swig of his own. “Divination and all that is sort of what we do.” 

“Yeah, but it only happens with you.”

You don’t meet Seokjin’s eyes as you swig from the bottle, the carbonation fizzing on your tongue. “I can’t help it that I inspire magical abilities,” is Seokjin’s answer. Always deflecting. You're grateful for the way he rolls with the punches, easily accepting the way others talk about you two as an item so you don’t have to. “Plus, even witch-adjacents have the ability of foresight.” 

What he doesn’t say is that even in your dishonored position as a siphoner, you can get sensations and feelings. While you can sense magic and you’re still in tune with the world around you, Jungkook is right: you only have this sense of knowing with Seokjin, like there is a tiny string of fate connecting the two of you.

When it’s time to close down the shop, you help the two of them out. Seokjin goes to the back to begin batching things anew: fondant, bread, frosting - anything that he can let sit overnight or prep while the lights are out and he’s gone home. You focus on cleaning with Jungkook, letting him put on a pop playlist while he sings along, siren voice lulling you into a steady rhythm. 

Part of you wants to ask what they’re doing for Beltane. Celebrating the holidays use to be your favorite, threading flowers through your hair, blessing your hearth and home, weaving new spells of prosperity and happiness alongside your sister. Now you don’t participate in any of the rituals with the others. 

Most of the time, you celebrate alone in your room. Mark the points of the elements and the compass on your bedroom floor alone. Sit in front of a single candle, watching the flame flicker as you draw your circle of salt, murmuring blessings. It isn’t a powerful place of practice and you have no alter to command, but it's something. It’s yours. 

Instead of asking, you follow Seokjin and Jungkook out of the door on the promise of dinner. It is the one thing that does feel like a ritual you’re allowed to participate in, holding chapel at Seokjin’s dining room table and elbowing with Jimin and Taheyung to reach for the food piled high. 

Evening sky stretches overhead as you walk between Seokjin and Jungkook. You cast your eyes upward, watching the gray clouds float by. Seokjin throws an arm around you, pulling you in close and squeezing you to his side. He smells like vanilla and sweet orange from making his tangerina vanilla cakes for Yoongi. You breathe in his scent, letting it wash through you like a balm. 

His arm presses a little too hard on the bruise where the rock from earlier nailed you, and you hiss, reaching behind your head automatically to adjust his hold on you. 

“What?” he asks, lifting his arm and slowing his gait. Seokjin’s face is picture-perfect concern, mouth tilted downward, a crease in his brows. Before you can explain, his hands are pulling at the collar of your shirt. “You’ve got a welt here, what the hell is that?”

You smack at his hands and step away from him, pulling his warm fingers from your shirt. “It’s nothing.”

“Whenever you say ‘it’s nothing’ it's always something. Why do you have a lump on the top of your spine?”

Dancing away from him, you grab Jungkook who grunts, mouth full of corn chips as you shove him between you and Seokjin. More unhappy noises come from the youngest as Seokjin grabs for you but you squeak and use Jungkook’s broad body to block him again. 

“Yah!” Seokjin yells, reaching both arms around either side of Jungkook to grab you. He manages to get one of your arms, pulling you toward him - and by default, Jungkook - and keeps a firm grip while you swat and fight back. 

“Nooo!” Jungkook howls between the two of you, adding to the chaos as he shoves both of you away from him. “Stop using me as a battering ram! I’m going to drop my chips! Guys!” 

“Tell me why you have a wound!”

“It isn’t a wound!”

“It’s a type of wound!”

“Ugh let my arm go, hulk!”

“Stop hissing at me like a rat!”

Jungkook drops his bag of chips and lets out a long, forlorn wail. “My chiiiiiiiiips!” 

After a struggle, you manage to shake Seokjin off of you, taking a few steps back as you huff angrily, fists at your side. Seokjin sidesteps Jungkook who is pouting and looking at the ground, wavy bangs falling in his eyes as he stares at the spilled corn chips. Seokjin makes it worse by stepping on them, earning a shriek from Jungkook that goes ignored.

“Did someone hurt you?”

A rumble rolls through the sky from up above. You cast your gaze upward, looking at the clouds that are a little more swollen than they were a few minutes ago. You can sense the static in the air, a promise of lightning if you don’t diffuse Seokjin’s anger quickly. 

Similar to Jungkook, Seokjin is sensitive to the elements. Where Jungkook has an affinity for the sky and the rain, Seokjin has a lot more skill with fire. Still, Seokjin is a powerful witch and his rage on more than one occasion has disturbed the sky and the lake in the middle of town. 

It’s partly the reason he works so hard on never getting angry. 

“It’s nothing, Jin,” you answer softly, eyes pleading. You desperately want him to drop it. Part of you is honored that he cares, but the other half of you can’t bear the way he looks at you. “Please drop it.”

“Someone hurt you. Again.”

Thunder echoes across the sky. Jungkook looks upward. “That isn’t me, even though I am mad about my chips.”

“Jin, it isn’t a big deal. Please.” You glance upward, thunder rolling again. “You’re going to make it rain.”

“I’ll make it do more than that when I find out who did it.”

“They were just kids, Jin. You can’t-”

He swears loudly and there’s a flash of lightning above your head. It makes you think of that night with your sister, laying in bed to let the storm pass. You clap your hands over your ears and squeeze your eyes shut, automatically crouching to make yourself small. 

Behind your shut eyes, you try not to let the memories come. Try not to imagine the vanilla scent of her hair, warm hands on your skin turned cold the next morning. You block out the screams, the way your mother shoved you away and your father yelled and yelled and yelled.

Above, the thunder stops. The rain doesn’t fall, and the air pressure returns to normal. Shivering, you crack an eye open to look at Seokjin, terrified at what you might find. His anger is so rare but flips on a dime, catching you off guard any time it happens. 

Jungkook is murmuring in Seokjin’s ear now, voice hushed and urgent. Seokjin’s eyes become unfocused as he nods, Jungkook’s hands grasping the older’s biceps firmly. When Seokjn’s eyes find yours over Jungkook’s shoulder, they’re fathomless. Endless pools of black and something else that you can’t decipher as he murmurs something back to Jungkook, who steps away.

Licking his lips, Seokjin offers you a hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry.” 

You swallow thickly. Reach out a tentative hand. “It’s okay.”

“You know I would never hurt you?”

Of course you know that. You aren’t afraid of Seokjin or the power he holds. You aren’t afraid of what he can do. You are afraid of the memories that nip at your heels like a pack of jackals, waiting for you to grow weak and fall before they attack. You are afraid of the way that it makes you feel when he cares about you. 

“I know that,” you murmur, letting him pull you to your feet. “It’s just the thunder, that's all.”

His smile is soft. “I know, I’m sorry.” He squeezes your hand. It’s a perfect fit, your palm in his. His skin buzzes with magic and you’re careful not to take any, always keeping your guard up so that you can never siphon again. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

-

Home isn’t the small apartment on the west side of town that you keep by yourself. Home is Seokjin’s two-story house in the suburbs made of brick and mortar. It’s the crowded dining room with eight chairs pulled close to the wooden table and a chandelier full of burner candles and incense. It’s Seokjion’s cat familiar running yowling down the corridor as Yoongi’s maine coon chases it, hissing. 

Home is seven witches who don’t care that you can’t generate your own magic, all of them laughing and pushing empty plates toward the middle of the table where Namjoon collects them with a snap of his fingers, the cutlery lifting and stacking neatly with the soft click of ceramic. 

Bloated and overly satiated, you lean back in your chair, sighing heavily. Yoongi is next to you, quiet and staring off into space the way that he often does. Next to him, Jimin and Namjoon have their heads bowed together whispering, a blush flushing across Namjoon’s wine-glazed expression and tops of his ears. 

Namjoon and Jimin strike something in you. A longing that tugs at your heart strings, drawing your gaze to the man sitting on the other side of you. Seokjin is leaning back in his chair, arm stretched over the back of your seat as he yawns mid-conversation with Hoseok. 

Seokjin is barely touching you, but just the warmth of his arm is enough to make you dizzy. It’s barely there, just against the top of your back. You lean into him a little, resting your head on top of his arm. He maneuvers his hand to scratch the top of your head lightly. It feels so nice that your eyes flutter shut, letting him play with your hair as the noise in the room drifts to a dull buzz. 

In another life, you think that this touch could be something more. Sometimes, you let yourself wonder if it is. Let yourself pretend that maybe Seokjin’s lingering gaze and lingering hand is more than the platonic affection he has for you. 

It’s a silly dream. 

When the dishes are washed and the others have said their goodbyes, it’s just you and Seokjin leaning against the counter in the kitchen. He has a glass of wine, sipping it thoughtfully as you put the cork back in the wine bottle. When you meet his gaze, you see something there. Hesitance. Anxiety. 

Seokjin chews on his lips and swishes the wine in his glass. The red arches elegantly along the sides of the glass, slowly dripping back down to pool in his cup. You remember once at a winery you could measure the legs or something when swishing wine in a glass to learn some small factoid about the wine, but it’s far from your memory now.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, taking a sip of your own. It’s a strong mulled wine with notes of cherry, you think. “You look nervous.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

Your heart beats hard once. Then twice. Speeds up. Instead of answering right away, you take a sip of your wine, mind running through all of the things you think he might say. Maybe this is it, he’s going to tell you that you can’t come around as much. That though you’re his best friend, you have to stay away from his coven. 

Instead, Seokjin says, “You know I’ve looked into your situation.” You wince when he says it but he pushes forward, leaning off the counter as he grows eager. “You said you weren’t always a siphon, that you could control your own magic as a child. I’ve been researching similar cases, and there is a lot of evidence that supports that it might be a magical block.”

“Jin.”

“Look, I’m happy with the way you are. There’s nothing wrong with you. But I know that you aren’t happy with it.” His jaw flexes. “And I care about your happiness. I just… Yoongi and I have been reading up on rituals to release magical blocks, and with Beltane in a few days, we thought…”

Warmth bubbles in your chest. You know how much this means to him, trying to help you. To free you from the burden that you carry with you wherever you go. This is not the first time he has brought up trying to figure out your ailment. Your situation. And though you’re glad he cares about you enough to try, there is something humiliating about it. 

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” Seokjin murmurs. You look up at him and his gaze is soft. Vulnerable. “But if you want us to try, we discussed it. And our circle is strong enough to try it on Beltane.”

Licking your lips, you nod once. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for thinking of me.”

“I’m always thinking of you.” You give him a look and he smiles, a little sad. “What? I am.” 

“Stop trying to be charming. I’ll only say yes if I want to.”

“I have no doubt about that. However, it is impossible for me to stop my charm. It is a natural gift.”

You roll your eyes. “Along with your insufferable humor.”

“There is nothing insufferable about me. Especially with Yoongi around.” 

You don’t push the argument. Seokjin grins again before opening a drawer in his kitchen, pulling out a small, cloth bag. There’s a green ribbon tying the top of it shut, and you smell the herbs inside of it immediately: cedar, bay leaves, mugwort. 

Seokjin holds the bag out to you and you frown, taking it. It’s weighted with crystals. You squeeze the bag a little, feeling the crunch of crystal fragments and herbs. There is a vibration that travels from your fingers up your arms and you feel a sense of solid warmth.

“A protection bag,” you deadpan. “Really?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t need this.”

“The welt on your neck says otherwise.”

“Please stop!” Your voice is loud in the empty kitchen. He pulls up short, leaning against the counter and watching you with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. You sigh deeply and close your eyes for a moment, calming yourself before you open them and say, “I don’t mean to yell, it’s just - it’s hard when I feel like all of you coddle me. It’s humiliating.” 

“It wasn’t my intention. I’d never want to make you feel that way.”

“I know.”

You do know. The intentions are good, but you can’t help the raw, venomous edge of frustration. It makes you feel less than, this constant need to help you. To do things for you. 

“I don’t want to be a problem that everyone feels like they need to solve. There’s more to me than being the covenstead’s leech.”

“You know that isn’t how we think of you.”

You give a frustrated noise. “Then please. Let me ask for help when I need it.” 

Seokjin is quick to catch the protection bag when you toss it back to him. He nods silently, eyes fixated on the floor. It feels like a hot stone has been dropped in your stomach, burning and weighing you down. How quickly a good dinner has turned sour, how the light air between the two of you has gone cold. 

“Thank you for dinner. And for looking into a way out of this,” you gesture wildly to yourself. He nods, but there’s no mirth in his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah of course. Let me know about… you know.” 

“Yeah. Yeah.”

That night, you have trouble sleeping, just like that night when you were thirteen years old. 

-

The back door to Shadow Metaphysical opens, creaking as Yoongi sticks his head out. His long hair is styled behind his ears and he’s in a soft-looking black sweater and jeans. He smiles when he sees you, gentle and kind as he opens the door a little wider, beckoning with his head to enter. 

Slipping through the back door, you enter a dark office. It’s only lit by candles spread over various shelves and desks, and a few hovering candles near the ceiling. It’s warm and cozy, and you spot Yoongi’s familiar napping on the chair pulled up to the desk where a computer shows some sort of accounting system. 

Yoongi leads you to the front of the store. It’s closed for the evening and he has receipts and cash laid out on the counter as he balances his drawer for the day. The shop has tall ceilings and is lined with rows and rows of dark shelving. The lighting here is not powered by candles or magic, but rather golden cafe lighting strung on the ceiling.

Shadow Metaphysical is one of your favorite places. It smells different each time you go in, the magic and the herbs and the spells inside of its four walls shifting with the energy of its employees and customers at all times. Today, it smells like night rain and crackling lightning. 

Wordlessly, Yoongi gestures at the shelving, signaling to do whatever you need. He busies himself with going back to counting bills, head down and trusting you not to steal anything. Not that he would care, as he’s always emphasized he has no problem not taking your money.

Still, you always pay him, especially since he lets you in after hours where no one can yell at you for being inside. The covenstead has barred magical stores from siphoners, convinced that they would cross the threshold and drain the shops of magic. 

It isn’t true, though you can feel the ebb and flow of open magic sources around you. You’re not here for magical purposes, specifically. There are things you can buy yourself and keep in your apartment to ground you to the earth, and there are still rituals and practices that you keep up with, even as your connection is severed.

As you pass rows and rows of books on rituals, you think about Seokjin’s offer to help you figure out your block. It wouldn’t be the first time you tried and failed to figure out what happened. With magic, the point of origin is always the key to any spell. The how and the where of your condition are important elements to figuring out the solution, but no one really knows the how and the where. 

Your friends don’t have full clarity on that night. You’ve never told them in explicit detail of how you woke up, full of your sister’s magic. The town calls you a kin killer and a leech, so you’re sure they know enough to know the source of your hesitation is violent and personal. 

Still, you slow as you pass a grimoire. The runes on it shine gold when you pause, winking at you, begging you to touch it. You feel the whisper of the spells of dozens of witches inside of it, their phantom fingers brushing down your arms. Your spine. You shiver and look away from the book, pressing on to the herbs section.

It would be nice not to feel the lure of power. Not to feel the itch and the cunning voices of magic begging you to use them use them use them use them-

“Stop,” you growl out loud. You don’t know who you’re talking to - yourself, the magic in the store, the universe. Taking a deep breath, you gather your wits and complete your shopping, moving with a robotic pace around the store to get what you need.

At the register, Yoongi gives you a wary look as you set things down on the counter. He takes his time scanning them, glancing at you occasionally. You can sense he wants to ask a question, dark eyes lingering a few times. That’s the thing about Yoongi, though. He’ll never ask, he’ll just wait until you give up.

Which you do, sighing and saying, “Ask.”

His lips twitch as he bags a few jars of thorns. “How often do the books in here talk to you?” You level a stare at him and he rolls his eyes. “I can hear you. And every time you’re in here, it’s like they all turn to look at you. Is it often?”

“Yeah,” you admit. “Since it happened, there’s always been a pull or like magical objects to taunt me.” You chew your lip and rub your sweaty palms on your jeans. “It’s worse around the sabbat holidays.”

“Stronger magic.”

“Yeah.”

“Did Jin explain what ritual we talked about?” You shake your head. He pushes over a paper bag filled with all your things and you hand over your card. As he swipes it, Yoongi explains. “Two smaller rituals wrapped into one. Namjoon found a really old binding ritual that was used to form a bridge between multiple rituals.”

“So like when you chain spells together,” you offer. “Impressive. I guess that would be used for improving upon old rituals?”

“Yeah, exactly that. Seokjin had been doing some research on magical blocks and shit, and found one that locates a point of origin of the block whether it’s internal or external.” 

“External?” He nods. “Like a curse?”

“Yes. Any reason anyone would want to curse a thirteen-year-old?” 

Yoongi phrases it like a joke and chuckles. But you don’t laugh, stilling as you think about his question. Your immediate answer is no, at thirteen there was certainly nothing you could have done to be cursed. But you think about your parents, thinking about the fear revolving around their gifts for blood magic, think about the way they were always regarded with equal parts fear and reverence as coven leaders.

Curses aren’t common. It would take a coven of extremely skilled witches to curse someone, but it could take a single very skilled blood witch to toss one. Hexes aren’t long-term and are far more manageable, but you think about the way your power vanished, the way you bled your sister dry. 

The misery you’ve faced since, the loss of your parents shortly after, the hatred from the covenstead. 

“Holy shit, you don’t think you’re cursed, do you?” Yoongi’s question brings you out of your daze. All of the amusement has been wiped clean from his expression, eyes deadly serious. “Who would curse a child?”

“People were really afraid of my parents,” you admit. “My mom used to lead the covenstead here, you know?” That surprises him and you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, before my aunt. She isn’t a blood witch. My mom was and led the covenstead until um - my sister died.”

“I never knew that. No one talks about it.”

There is a question there. Yoongi won’t say it outright, but you sense the curiosity nonetheless. You feel your throat constrict a little as you murmur, “She stepped aside when my sister died. It was more political than anything, but no one talks about it out of respect for my aunt.”

“But still, to curse a child?”

“There was…” You think back to the time when you were thirteen. Those days are painted so painfully when you think about them that it is hard to remember anything else. “My parents were involved in the Trials that were going on at that time. Hunting Dissenters.”

Yoongi’s face darkens. “I see.”

“They had a lot of enemies. So maybe… I don’t know.”

For a few moments, Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He busies himself with packing away the rest of the till and waving his hand, dousing all the lights in the store with ease. There’s a little pang as he does it, such simple magic that costs him nothing. That you have no access to.

“Well,” Yoongi sighs, a little awkwardly. “Think about it. If - and it’s unlikely - that someone cursed you, you’ll know if we go through with the ritual.” He pauses and levels you with a look. “It is dangerous though. So consider the risk before you agree, hmm?”

You nod and thank him. He leads you out of the store and gives you an awkward smile goodbye. Never affectionate, but always polite and warm nonetheless. 

Sunset-purple skies stretch above you. It smells like fresh rain and earth outside. Town is quieter now that the evening crowd has finished dinner and gone home or back to their accommodations for the evening. You pass places with patio seating and small diners tucked between stores, wary eyes of the workers following you as you walk down the sidewalk. 

No one says good evening. Some don’t look at you at all. 

Curse. 

The word weighs heavy on you. You’d never considered that your condition could be from a curse before, but now that you think about it, you can’t stop the thoughts racing through your mind. 

The Trials had been a scary time for witches, Dissenters leaving covensteads to start their own, dark and forbidden spellwork becoming more and more popular among covens. Your parents - especially your mother and her sister - had been a huge part of cleansing the covenstead from witches who practice dark magic.

Especially the few blood witches. 

You had been a blood witch, though. Like your sister, like your mother. People had always been wary of them, which is why your mother worked so hard to get rid of the Dissenters when she was the head priestess. 

They give us a bad name, she would say darkly when you and your sister asked why she was getting rid of witches like you. Like her. In times like this, we have to work extra hard to prove we aren’t evil. 

And then you bled your sister dry. Drained her magic until she couldn’t fight you back and you woke up to that feeling of her cold hands on your overwhelmed skin. Your mother had never really looked at you the same after that, stepping down as the high priestess immediately. 

You suspect she protected you in the only way she could. Disallowing you to use magic of any sort, placing hard restrictions on how you could live, outlawing you from spaces where you had grown up. It was better than death. 

At least, you used to think so. 

Yoongi’s words weigh heavy on you as you sit in your apartment alone. You don’t bother to put the TV on, knowing that you won’t be able to pay attention to anything. Magic always comes at a price, and two rituals wrapped into one is going to take a toll. 

And yet, you think about getting to the bottom of this sickness, this curse. This inability to do anything but steal magic, to leech off of others. You think about how your magic used to feel, the way you could command fire with a snap of your fingers or make stars fall from your bedroom ceiling. 

An ache settles in your chest as you lay back on the couch and close your eyes, throat tight and eyes burning. You have been without magic for so long. Part of you thinks what's a little longer? But deep down, you crave it. The spark, the life, the touch of magic. 

You want to be able to enter stores without the itch underneath your skin, an addiction you can’t cure nor divulge in. You want to be able to be a part of a community again, to do rituals with Yoongi and Jungkook and Seokjin. You want to be able to help him in his bakery, imbuing his scones and cupcakes with love and a little spark of something extra. 

Tears flow hot on your face. You know what you want, and you know that it’s going to cost you to get it. You know that to do this, you’ll have to be open and honest, because there are only two possible options for your magic block: you are cursed or you have a mental block. 

It’s hard to know if being cursed as a result of your parents’ policing is worse than potentially having an internal block, an innate refusal to do magic because of what you did. 

That night sits at the back of your mind like a stone, sinking sinking sinking. Pulling you under as you think about it in explicit detail. Maybe you simply killed your twin. A horrible accident, but perhaps it was just you. Your magic. Your fault. 

And your magic had fled because of it, a self-inflicted punishment. 

Before you’re aware of what you’re doing, you have the phone in your hand, sniffing and wiping your tears with the back of your hand. Your face feels swollen and sticky with tears and overwarm and it’s hard to get a breath as you press the phone to your ear, listening to the ringing.

Seokjin picks up on the fourth ring, his voice cheery. “What, did Yoongi forget to let you in the store?”

“No.”

“I’m coming now,” Seokjin says, completely forgoing humor when he hears you sniff, hears the waver in your voice. “Are you home?”

“Yeah.”

“Did anyone hurt you?”

“No,” you hiccup. “I’m just really sad and I don’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll be there in ten. Do you want to stay on the phone?” You shake your head and let out a little sob. Something about knowing he’s coming over to be with you cracks your resolve a little more. You realize he can’t see you when he prompts, “Hey, you there?”

“Sorry, no. Drive safely, please.”

“For you? Anything.”

Despite your tears, your mouth wobbles into a weak smile at that. It makes your heart squeeze just a little, underneath all the hurt. 

It doesn’t take him long to let himself in the apartment. You can sense him before he even gets to the stairs leading up to your unit, his crackling energy like a beacon to you. When he opens the door with the key you gave him, he fills the space with static, magic snapping and tinged with worry. 

Magic always belies how Seokjin feels. Like now, as he rushes across the apartment, he is lightning, all energy and anxiety popping and snapping as he sits on the couch next to you, pulling you into his chest. 

Seokjin is warm and smells like vanilla and sweet orange from the bakery. It’s soothing. You close your eyes and clutch the hem of his shirt, resolve cracking the rest of the way as he becomes your anchor as you drift out to sea, holding you so that you can be lost in the overwhelming feeling of loss without getting too far. 

He doesn’t tell you not to cry. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. Seokjin leans back on the couch, pulling you into his lap, holding your knees so that he can hold you. One hand rubs your back and he rests his chin on the top of your head, leading you to use the crook of his neck as a place to hide - and turn into a waterfall for your tears. 

This is what you love about Seokjin though. He doesn’t pry. He just lets you use him, lets you cry it out and he waits. 

When the tears begin to dry and you find it easier to breathe again, you shift away from Seokjin and wipe your face. He smiles down at you, eyes glittering and expression so fond that you find yourself staring blankly into his face.

“I’m sorry,” you sniff. “And thank you for coming.”

“Anything for you.” You hate the way it makes your heart flip when he says that. You start to pull away from him to sit on the couch properly but his arms constrict you, keeping you to him. You frown but he asks, “I want to know what happened, if you’re ready to talk about it.”

Seokjin is so close his breath fans your face. You look up at him. Silky, long lashes that you could individually count with your proximity, beautiful tan and smooth skin with a glow all witches have, strong brows that you always thought made Seokjin’s face the perfect balance of boyish and beautiful. 

Your heart starts to speed up and your mouth dries out with the way he looks at you, intense and searching. Suddenly you’re afraid if he looks too hard, he’ll see down to your core. 

“I- yeah. I need some water,” you croak, pulling away. He lets you go this time, unaware that what you really need is space between the two of you, a barrier so he can’t see. So he won’t know. “Turns out sobbing makes you thirsty.” 

Before you can get all the way to the kitchen, there’s a soft clink accompanied by a full glass of water on your counter. You glare at Seokjin over your shoulder and he winces and shrugs in apology. 

As you gulp down mouthfuls of cool water, you wonder how to word exactly what you’re upset about. How you’re tired of existing in the world without your magic but you’re also unsure if you want to know the truth about why your magic left you. 

Seokjin is iffy on the details about the night your sister died. He’s never asked you explicitly for the story before, but if you want to go through with finding out the root cause of your block, you know you’ll be exposed. To him. To all of them. To his coven.

The desire to be one of them is so strong that it makes your knees weak as you walk toward the couch. You sit abruptly on the couch arm, staring into the distance as you drink the rest of the water. You want to join them so much, to celebrate the sabbat holidays, to feel the rush of a closed circle of magic and yet…

Would they accept you if they knew you killed your sister? You’re not so sure. 

You look at Seokjin. He waits patiently, watching you with soft eyes. Moonlight seeps in through the blinds behind him, wreathing him in silver light. He looks like a god, then. Of shadows, of night, of mystery. This best friend of yours who you love so much and who has loved you indiscriminately when he didn’t have to. 

“I talked to Yoongi about maybe doing the ritual,” you start slowly. Seokjin nods, encouraging you. “And I think I came to the conclusion that I want to do it. I’m tired of feeling everyone’s magic pull at me, like a vice that I have to ignore every day. And I’m tired of wanting to do things I used to, to feel the world around me. But most of all, I just want to be a part of something. A part of a coven, a family.”

Understanding paints Seokjin’s face. He reaches a hand out and takes yours, giving you a firm squeeze. “You know even with no magic, you’re our family, right?”

“It’s different.” He starts to protest but you shake your head. “I want to be in a coven and to feel the power of a circle. I want to celebrate and do rituals with you, I want to be a part of something magical. I can’t do that like this, not without the fear of draining everyone.”

He nods. “Of course. We’ll have you either way, you know? We’d still welcome you like this.”

“But I’d never be able to close your circle.” Seokjin nods. He knows the truth of this. “But this ritual requires truth, and there’s some things about me that I’ve never talked to you about. Things about the night I… I could no longer do magic. I want you to be informed, to know what we might find if we do this.”

“Only if you want to tell me.”

“A coven and a working circle requires trust and honesty. I can never be one of you if you don’t know me completely.” 

He nods. “That is true.” 

“I’m going to tell you about the night that my sister died.” He squeezes your hand and nods, but says nothing else. “My sister and I were twins, both blood witches. Unusual enough for our parents and the covenstead to be incredibly proud of us, but not unusual enough for people to be afraid, you know?”

“Twins… That’s incredibly powerful.”

“Yeah,” you agree, throat tight. “We were really fond of the connection too, you know? It was nice to always have someone to rely on who was my perfect balance. We were never-�� You take a breath. “Neither was more powerful than the other. There was never any jealousy or overpowering the other. We were always evenly matched.” 

“Whenever it would storm,” you continue. “I would go lay in her room. I hated storms but she loved them. I did this countless times up until we were thirteen. I don’t know… Jin, I don’t know what was different that night. I think back to it every single day, what did I do differently, was there an object I touched, a spell I used? And I come up with nothing. But on Beltane when we were thirteen, it was storming. We’d already finished the festival and our parents were out doing their duties and I went and I fell asleep in her room and… and I woke up…”

For a moment, you can’t get the words out. They get trapped in your throat and you stare, unseeing. You imagine the lightning against the window. The warmth of your sister's hands. The tree tap tap tapping against the window with the strength of the wind.

“I drained her in the middle of the night,” you whisper. It’s out now and you can’t stop, can’t look at Seokjin’s face to see his reaction. “I went to sleep as normal and when I woke up, she was freezing and lifeless and I felt more powerful than I ever had before. Like I was this magical battery charged up and sparking.” 

For a moment, you pause and look at Seokjin. You expect to see horror or disgust or a variety of negative emotions, but he’s still watching you. Fond. Waiting. No judgment. When he sees you staring, he gives you a tiny smile and a squeeze of your hand. 

“I’m still listening.” 

“Aren’t you…” You trail off and shake your head. “I killed my sister. Are you not horrified?”

He frowns then. “You didn’t kill your sister.”

“Yes I did.”

“You weren’t born a siphoner, how could you possibly predict that would ever happen? You didn’t get in that bed with her and then leech her magic, no matter how much it must feel that way. It wasn’t your fault, though I know hearing me say that doesn’t make it feel any less true in here.” He reaches forward and taps your heart lightly. “There is nothing I can say to ease the pain and guilt of that, but what you’re describing to me isn’t the tale of a murderer. It’s the story of someone who had a freak accident, which is more common among the magical community than one might think.”

“I don’t know what happened,” you admit, a tear escaping your eye. Before you can wipe it though, Seokjin’s thumb is there, swiping across your face and collecting it. You watch with wide eyes as he cups your face, looking at you with so much something that your head spins. “But in the morning, I was alive and she was dead. And my parents and everyone else hated me for it. That’s why they treat me the way they do. That’s why my mother stepped down as high priestess, why my parents were driven to grief. Why I’m alone.”

“You’re not alone. Not anymore.” 

“How can anyone accept me like this?”

“Because it isn’t what defines you. We are not made up of only the things we do and the things that happen to us, and I promise you, this is something that happened to you.” 

“But why? Why me?”

“I don’t know,” Seokjin admits. “But we’re going to find out, okay? 

“What if the others don’t want me?” 

“They would never,” he’s quick to say. He’s still holding your face, wiping tears from your eyes. “And if they did, I don’t care. I’d do the ritual myself, just to prove to you that this burden you carry isn’t your fault.” 

You crack a grin, despite the dark topic. “Yeah? You’d try and do a circle for you?”

“I would walk through fire for you.”

You pull your face out of his hands and shove him a bit. “Fire is your favorite element, Jin. That’s not impressive.”

His laughter fills the room and he tugs at your hands. You grapple with him as he tries to pull you down, your ache forgotten as you laugh and squeal. “Yah! Let me try and be poetic! It was the first thing that I could think of.”

“You’re a witch, you’re practically impervious.” 

Seokjin overpowers you and pulls you down against his chest. Suddenly you’re very close again, your palms pressed against his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat vibrating through your fingers. You make a surprised sound as he looks up at you, gaze a little darker. A little hazy. 

Gently, Seokjin reaches up and brushes his fingers across your chin. It’s featherlight and more intimate than you expect, making you blink in surprise. You’re frozen, limbs stuck and heart racing as you watch the corner of his mouth twitch upward. Suddenly the moment feels different - this feels different. 

“Not impervious to you though.”

When he says it, you don’t answer at first. You think you imagine him saying it. That suddenly this has blurred into a fantasy of yours. Perhaps you’re actually asleep, soothing your pain with dreams of Seokjin. Of being like this with him, pressed closed and intimate with his gaze burning. 

“What?” you whisper back, unable to string together a better response.

He doesn’t seem offended though, huffing a laugh. “Fire might not get to me,” he says. “You certainly did, though.”

“I don’t…”

“We’re practicing honesty because you’re right. If we’re going to lift this block on you and let you join our circle, there can’t be secrets between us. There’s so much to tell you, but I need you to know before we do this how I feel.”

“How you feel?”

“Yes. As the leader of our circle, it’s my duty to be honest with you and to give you an out. I don’t want you to cast our first circle and suddenly be able to see - feel - how I feel and then there’s no way out.”

“I don’t understand.” 

“I’d walk through fire for you - hey, stop laughing at me! Because you are an amazing person. But I would also do it because I have fallen head over heels for you. Chaotically so. Painfully so.” 

This is a dream. It has to be, because there is no way that Seokjin is lying under you, face so close to yours, hands gripping your forearms, and staring at you like that, gaze dreamy, smile on his face. 

“It’s not a dream,” he laughs, making you realize you’ve said it out loud. “Or perhaps it is a dream and I am once again imagining that I am the hero to your tale, a knight saving you because he likes you and you will let me because you like me. But that would be a silly dream, because you have always been the bravest person I know and you have always refused to be saved.” 

“You like me?”

“I do. And it’s okay if you don’t like me back. But I wanted you to know before you step into a circle with us. The others know - can see it light up inside of me every time we cast. But I didn’t want to surprise you with that. Not with this, not when it’s about you. It would have been cruel.”

Seokjin could never be cruel. The word cruel doesn’t even exist in the same plane of existence as this man. This witch who has never done anything but ask if you need help. Who simply enjoys baking things for the community and its visitors, filling every good with magic. A little extra something to make their lives more manageable, more fruitful. 

This man, who would have you even as you are in his coven of witches. Even if a circle couldn’t be drawn and salted correctly. Even if they have no use for you. This friend, who has heard what you’ve done - or didn’t do - and looks at you all the same. Doesn’t see a monster or someone terrible, doesn’t see someone capable of murder. 

The very thought of Seokjin loving you even as you are is enough to send a shiver through you. 

“You know why I thought I was dreaming, right?” you ask him. Seokjin shakes his head, watching your every move. “Because I have dreamed of you saying that often. It was always a comfort to me when I was sad or my longing to have you was intense. I just thought I never could. Wasn’t worthy of it, wasn’t-”

Seokjin moves faster than you can finish your sentence. He surges forward, hands skimming up your arms roughly to cup your face and pull you down to him. He presses his lips firmly to yours and anything you were going to say vanishes, thoughts a wisp of smoke. 

Sparks fly quite literally. Seokjin’s magic crackles and you resist to pull it in and consume it, too distracted by the soft feel of his lips. It’s just an innocent press of mouths at first, making your head spin as you realize you’re kissing Seokjin. 

Then, he pulls away to look at you, face aglow. You’re a little breathless and reeling when you open your eyes to see his grin. 

“You’re worthy of so much more,” he whispers. 

There’s no time to respond as he pulls your lips to his again, this time kissing you properly. He tastes sweet, like one of his meringue treats. The slide of his plush mouth against yours makes you dizzy. He sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping slightly and you become ravenous. 

Your tongue brushes against his teeth and he makes a throaty sound, opening up to let you deepen the kiss, tongue sweeping against his. He’s a slow kisser, dragging his tongue against yours and letting you fall fall fall into him. 

Seokjin’s hands slide from your face down your shoulders and past them, stopping only at your hips where he squeezes. Your stomach flips at the contact and you twitch a little bit, grinding down into him as his kisses go from languid to a little needier. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, head tilting back. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” you ask, mouth going to his jaw. You press wet kisses there, messy lips followed by your tongue, leaving a spit-slick trail. His skin makes your tongue tingle, magic vibrating. 

He slips his hands under the hem of your shirt and digs his blunt nails into your hips. “You know what?”

Grinning, you bring your mouth up to his. Slowly, you lower your hips so you’re pressed flush to his, rolling them again, this time painfully slow. Your breath catches in your throat at the slow-drag friction, the feeling of him shivering underneath you.

“That?” you ask, breathless against his mouth. 

“Enough,” he hisses.

The world spins. Seokjin grabs you and in a single, swift movement sits up and stands, carrying you with him. You squeal, hands shooting to grasp at his shoulders as he walks toward your room. He kicks his shin on the coffee table as he stumbles with you, balance off with the added weight.

He curses loudly and you can’t help but laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth when his sharp gaze snaps to yours. His eyes are dark dark, hungry and fathomless now as he raises a brow. “Yeah, you’re laughing?”

“Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” you admit.

“You’re gonna be.”

A wild thrill shoots through you as he carries you to the bedroom. You forget how strong he is, muscles flexing as he shifts you again, careful not to drop you. It makes you feel giddy, but you squeak in a moment of terror when he drops you unceremoniously on your bed, the brief moment of freefall startling.

You land with a huff and he grins down at you as he stands up against the edge of the bed, knees squeezing your legs together as he reaches behind his neck to yank at his t-shirt. You watch, slack-jawed as he pulls the material up and over his head in a way that is somehow hot, as benign as it is. 

Seokjin is all gold and tan planes, body perfect in the low light of your room as he tosses his shirt. You take a second to admire his broad chest, dark nipples pebbling in the cool room. Dark hair trails from his belly button and vanishes in the waist of his jeans.

Seeking warmth, you reach for him. He leans forward, pressing his palms into the mattress to hover over you, knees placed on either side of your thighs. His muscles jump when you brush your hands up the softness of his stomach toward the harder muscle of his pecs. 

It feels like the sun is trapped underneath his skin, burning its way out of him as your fingers explore. You’ve never touched him like this, slow and reverant and full of unbridled desire. He watches you, drinking in the way you take him in. The way you take your time. 

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, looking up at him. His ears turn red and he rolls his eyes. You grin, dragging your hand up to rest over his chest where his heart thuds wildly beneath your palm. “I mean here, idiot. Yeah you’re hot too, but you’re beautiful in here.” 

Unreadable emotion flits across his face. Something like joy and pain - the pain of wanting to hear that for so long, waiting for the admission. You understand the same pain of desire filled so unexpectedly that it hurts. 

Seokjin kisses you again and this time with intent. He shifts and slides a knee between your legs, pressing up to the apex of your thighs. You groan and lift your hands, sliding them through his hair. The strands are silky soft and long. You twist your fingers at the nape of his neck, pulling him to you as the kiss turns messy.

Whatever this is between you is more magic than you’ve felt in years. You feel breathless as he kisses across your jaw and toward your neck, sucking harshly on the soft skin underneath your ear. You whine and he chuckles, hot breath hitting your ear.

“Why don’t you do that thing you love so much, hmm?” he asks, nipping your ear lobe. “Are you shy now? Don’t wanna grind on me?”

You do want to, but you hesitate. He encourages you, taking a hand and skimming down your waist to your ass, sliding under and squeezing your cheek as he lifts your hips in a motion to grind against him. The friction is good but not nearly enough and you let out a pitiful sound. 

“Come on,” he urges. “Do it right, then.”

Fuck. Fuck. 

You grind your cunt on his leg properly, planting your feet on the edge of the bed for leverage as Seokjin’s mouth ravages your neck. You’re lost in him, letting your mind go a little empty as you seek friction, needing to relieve the pressure throbbing in your cunt.

Arousal gathers in your stomach and you feel yourself slow-drip into your panties, so turned on by the sudden confidence Seokjin has when kissing you, when telling you to move. This is a side of him you’ve never explored and you dive in head first.

One hand leaving his hair, you grab his hand that’s on your ass as he continues to nip your collarbones, tongue laving over the sting of his bite. He lets you lead him by the wrist, and you guide his hand between your legs where you press his fingers to your zipper. 

“Please,” you rasp. “I need more.”

He sinks his teeth into the top of your right breast, tongue tasting your skin. “Is that so?”

“Please. You said you’d walk through fire for me.”

His laugh is loud and he buries his face in your neck. You can’t help but laugh too, pausing your greedy hands in exchange for mirth. “Yeah,” he agrees with a chaste kiss to your throat. “I did say that, huh?”

“Yes, so gimme.” 

“Yah. Of course I am.”

Years of friendship have erased any ability to feel awkward with Seokjin but for a moment, you’re afraid it’ll be weird, touching one another like this. Seokjin has no such qualms, unbuttoning your pants and yanking them down your legs with ease.

When he comes back up to lean over you, he doesn’t slot a knee between your legs. Instead, his fingers press firmly to your clothed cunt, a curse falling from his mouth as he feels how damp you are. You’re hot all over and yet you feel hotter still as he circles his fingers gently over your clit. 

“Fuck,” you sigh, lids fluttering closed. “Feels good.”

“You’re fucking drenched, all from a little kissing huh?”

“And grinding,” you add.

“Yeah, like a hungry little vixen, huh?” You nod, biting your bottom lip as you get lost in his lazy ministrations and pressure on your clit. It’s relieved some of the ache, but not nearly enough. “I can see on your face you already want more.” 

This time, Seokjin doesn’t make you ask for it. He hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them to the side. Immediately you feel cold air against you, but he’s quick to slide his fingers up and down your wet folds, slicking them up to trail back up and circle slowly around your clit.

“Damn you’re fucking wet,” he curses. He leans up a little, eyes fucked out. “Take the rest off for me, baby.”

Baby. It shivers through you and you comply, though a little haphazardly. It’s hard to remove your shirt and bra with the way his fingers are slowly pressing your clit, making you thrash and gasp. 

As soon as you lay back down, no shirt and no bra, Seokjin is leaning forward, tongue darting out to flick against a stiffened nipple. You let out a loud moan and he hums in response, attacking his mouth to you and sucking. Fuck it feels good. You arch off the bed and his fingers leave your swollen clit to slide down your sticky mess to circle your entrance.

Gently, he sinks in a single finger. Your eyes roll back a little, pussy fluttering as he strokes your front wall. You’re tingling all over, buzzing with pleasure as he slowly fucks you with his finger, mouth busy plucking at your nipple with his teeth. 

You’re lost in it, melted into the bed as Seokjin plays you like a well-tuned instrument. The heel of his palm presses against your clit, providing just enough pressure as he fingers you to send the room spinning on its axis. 

He tongue-kisses across your chest, mouth ravenous against your heaving gasps as he finds your other nipple. The tip of his tongue circles, making you keen and squirm underneath him. He watches you with dark eyes, teasing the aching bud before nipping you lightly. 

“Sensitive,” he mumbles, dragging spit-slicked lips against your breast. “Can you take another finger?”

You nod eagerly, hungry to be filled. Your orgasm is starting to build slowly, worked up by the way he mouths at you, by the way Seokjin’s fingers reach so deep, pressing against your g-spot as he sinks another into your heat. 

“Shit,” you pant. “That feels so fucking good, Jin.”

“Mhmm.” He brings his mouth up to yours and your tongues tangle, teeth clinking together as he fucks you harder, the wet smack of your pussy against his palm loud. “Tight fucking pussy,” he pants, pressing hard against your front wall. Your heels dig into the bed as you try to keep up with the pleasure blooming in your stomach. “Gonna need to fuck you open a little if you’re gonna take me.”

If you’re gonna take me.

The promise of more has you rolling your hips up to meet his hand. He lets you fuck yourself on his fingers, dropping his gaze to look between your bodies. Your thighs and his stomach are slick with your juice, leaking around his fingers uncontrollably. 

When Seokjin introduces another finger, you hiss. The stretch is hard and it burns. He doesn’t keep thrusting right away, letting your cunt stretch around his three digits. But he’s pressed up against your soft spot, making you see stars as he puts unrelenting pressure on your nerves. 

It feels like insanity, the way he does this to you. The way Seokjin buries his face in your neck, your chests pressed together to provide friction against your teeth-marked nipples as he starts to build up a pace again, thrusting. 

“I’m gonna come,” you whisper, hands grabbing frantically at his sweaty shoulder blades. Your thighs are shaking and it’s hard to get a breath in. Your voice quakes as you gasp. “Fuck, Jin I’m - ah ah ah.”

“So come,” he says, as if it’s that simple. He puts weight behind the hand fucking you, quickens the pace. Presses so fucking hard you think you might blackout. “If you’re gonna come, then do it.” 

And you do. Just like that, nails digging into his shoulders, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched, you come around his fingers. He fucks you through it, breath hot in your ear. Your knees squeeze around his hips until you’re spent, collapsing against the mattress, boneless. 

Seokjin retracts his fingers. The sudden feeling of being empty makes you huff in protest and he laughs, lifting his face from your neck. You pout up at him and he kisses you again before leaning upward, straddling your legs. 

Your eyes zero in on his hands as they undo the top of his belt. His hand is covered in a wet sheen, cum-slicked and sticky. He doesn’t care, popping up the belt and pulling down the zipper of his pants. You grow eager, leaning up as he pulls the waist down, revealing the dark briefs that do nothing to hide how hard he is. 

With no warning, you reach for his clothed cock, squeezing firmly. He hisses and drops his hands, jeans only pulled halfway down his thighs. Seokjin tips his head back and moans at the ceiling as you lean forward and mouth at the damp spot on his briefs, tasting salt. 

“Fuck,” he swears and you grin, pressing and holding the flat of your tongue to the cloth to wet it. “You’re a little slut, huh?”

You hum in agreement. Fingers dancing up his thighs, you pause at the elastic band, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I?”

Seokjin tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes half-lidded. He nods, watching and dazed as you peel the elastic down his hips slowly. You lean forward as you do, pressing a soft kiss to his hip bone. He twitches and sighs in response.

You look at his cock as it bobs against his stomach, brown tip smearing precum against his navel. You lick your lips and drag your hand up, fingers gripping his velvety shaft. He’s thick and heavy in your hand as you grasp him firmly, stroking upward. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispers, hips twitching. You grin up at him, swiping a thumb over the crown of his cock to spread the wetness down his shaft. He hums, entranced. “More.”

You don’t have to ask what he means. You lean upwards, pulling the tip of his cock toward your mouth. You slide just the tip into your mouth, suckling generously and running your tongue along the slit. His hand slips to the side of your neck, resting there but not doing anything. It’s a comforting weight as you take him in your mouth properly. 

Seokjin is art above you. Chest flushed, mouth open, eyes closed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was on his knees at worship. It is a sort of worship, the way you sink down on his cock, lips stretched wide, drool dripping down the side of your mouth and running down your jaw and neck. Is it not the spirit of loving him moving through you? Is this not heaven, looking up at him and seeing someone that has chosen you over and over again?

No pagan ritual in your life as a witch has felt like this. You swallow around him, eyes watering as you choke on his length, pulling back a little to catch your breath. Your hand squeezes him at the base, slick with your spit and his precum. Your mouth is wet and swollen as you lick the underside of his shaft, never looking away from his face.

“Fuck that mouth,” he sighs, eyes opening and looking down at you. He squeezes the side of your neck a little, fingers right against your throat. “Come on,” he murmurs. “I can’t hold out if you keep going. How do you like it?”

Instead of answering him, you pull off of him with a sloppy, wet noise. You make a show of running your tongue along your lips before turning around and crawling up the bed, wiggling your ass a little. Seokjin groans as he sheds his jeans and briefs the rest of the way. 

The bed sinks when he crawls behind you. You go down on your elbows, ass up high. He smacks each cheek firmly with both hands, making you yelp as he grips the stinging flesh, squeezing. “You have a good ass.”

“You have a nice dick.”

He laughs loudly at that. Seokjin’s hand skims down to your thighs, grabbing them and pushing them open. You sink a little lower on the bed, face pressed to the sheets and letting your eyes shut. The hair on his thighs sends a shiver up your spine as his legs brush against yours, hands roaming and squeezing your hips, your butt, your thighs.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he mutters. His hands come back over the globes of your ass and sink toward your wet cunt. You moan as his thumbs peel you open, pressing around your clenching hole. “Shit.” 

The bed bounces as he moves again and then your eyes are snapping open, fingers twisting in your sheets when you feel the flat of his tongue swipe up your pussy. He hums in delight and you’re reeling, trying to catch your breath as he licks at you.

“Just wanted a taste,” he says, more to himself than you. He sucks your clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it a few times and you nearly crumble right there at the unexpected stimulation. He slow-licks up to your hole, tracing it once before retracting his mouth. “I have all the time in the world for you to come in my mouth. Right now I just wanna feel you.”

“Yes, please.”

Your breath gets stuck when you feel the head of Seokjin’s cock catch your entrance. He’s thick, and even though you’re dripping down your thighs and stretched from his fingers, the pressure of him sinking into your heat slowly sends you moaning like a wanton whore, unable to stop the sounds escaping your mouth.

Seokjin is precise, hands holding your hips firmly until he’s fully seated in your cunt, your walls fluttering around him. You feel so full, his cock reaching deep enough to feel in your gut. When he pulls all the way out, you think something is wrong, but he fucks back into you hard.

“Oh shit,” you gasp, feeling the full weight of him spear you. “Holy shit.”

He doesn’t say anything but he grunts, setting a slow but deep pace. His hips snap into you with force, your knees spreading a little bit wider. He leans into it more, moving his hands to press into the small of your back. The full force of his weight pushing your hips into the bed as he slams into you makes you dizzy. 

An orgasm starts to build deep in your stomach. You claw at the bed, breaths coming out in a hiss. Seokjin grabs one of your hands, pulling it backward to pin it against your lower back before doing the same to the other. You’re completely pinned under him, pushed so far into the mattress you think you might fade and vanish into foam and sheets. 

Nothing here matters but the way he fucks into you, unrelenting, heavy, precise. He says your name and it rolls off his tongue sweeter than any pastry he’s ever made. Your orgasm creeps up on you, shaking and thunderous. It feels stronger than before, a pressure that makes you start to shiver, feet kicking under him.

For a moment, he slows, pulling off you a little. “Okay?”

“Keep going,” you beg him, voice high-pitched and strange to your ears. “Please don’t stop, I’ll tell you if I can’t take it.”

That’s all he needs. He redoubles and this time, changes his direction, hits that spot inside of you head on with his cock and you think you’re going to pass out. You become lifeless under him, unable to do anything but take it. The wave of your orgasm builds and builds and builds until finally, it breaches. 

You come for a second time, no noise coming out of you. It’s all white vision and squeezed thighs and ringing ears. You think you feel something like a bolt of lightning, a snap of power so strong as you clench around Seokjin that you taste static in the air. 

It’s hard to know how long it lasts. One moment you’re shaking and the next, you’re drifting, feeling weightless and exhausted. The weight of Seokjin’s touch keeps you tethered and from straying too far, but you’re somewhere in between nonetheless. 

Slowly, reality drips back to you. You think you may have dozed a little, your eyes dry as you blink them open. Seokjin is lying next to you, arm wrapped around you and eyes closed. He’s not breathing deep enough to be asleep, confirming it when his eyes open, sensing your gaze.

A smile lights up his face and you smile tiredly at him. Your cunt aches and your legs and arms are sore from being pinned, and you’re still a little shaky. Thoughts of your orgasm make you twitch, post-sex tremors that you can’t escape.

“Hi,” you rasp. “Did I fall asleep?”

“I think you blacked out.”

“I- what?” 

“I sort of…” he frowns. “There was like this electrical snap when I came. You clenched me so fucking hard I just… let go. I think we sort of had a magical orgasm.”

“A magical orgasm.”

He grins. “Just say thank you for the witch orgasm.”

“Ugh.” You smack his chest and he laughs hoarsely. 

It did feel like that though. Like a crackle of energy, like being struck by a storm of electricity and heat. You feel tired and heavy-limbed, but you feel sticky and sweaty too. “I need a shower.”

“Mhmm. I was waiting for you to come to.” He starts to sit up. “Come on, I’ll shower you. Then we need to sleep. We have to prepare you for your big day.”

“My big day?”

Seokjin grins as he reaches a hand for you. There’s a spark again when you touch and you hesitate, feeling the well of his magic there. It hums in him, a thunderhead of power and fire. He sees your expressions and softens. “You can’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Baby, I just fucked the everloving shit out of you and you know what you didn’t do?” Your brows pull together and he smiles. “You didn’t pull an ounce of my magic from me. I think you’re a lot better at control than you think you are.”

Licking your lips, you nod and let him pull you from bed. You are good at control. You had to be after your sister. It’s something you’ve practiced nonstop, the unconscious control of your desire for magic. Even when you sleep, you wake up often, fearful of losing your grip on yourself while you slumber.

It hasn’t happened yet. And as Seokjin leads you to the shower, you think… maybe it never will. Especially if the ritual goes right. Especially if you can get your magic back. 

Perhaps for the first time since you were thirteen, you feel a sliver of hope. When you look at Seokjin and you feel your heart stutter, you know that even without your magic, you’ve found something.

-

“Oh for the love of the land,” Yoongi groans when you appear in the basement of Seokjin’s home. “Look at the two of you.”

Everyone swivels to look at you and Seokjin, who are hand-in-hand. You freeze, pulling up short to take in the candle-lit room and the six other men who are all looking at you with equal parts happiness and a little bit of amusement.

You shift from foot to foot and chew your lip. Suddenly you want to turn tail and run back up the stairs and away from the watchful eyes of your friends - of Seokjin’s coven members. But Seokjin holds your hand tight, tugging you down the rest of the stairs into the gloom of the room.

Perhaps gloom isn’t the right word. The room is much too warm and smells of sage and thyme, a good feeling if not a little overwhelming. Outside this house, there is an entire festival going on at the park. The covenstead witches were furious when Seokjin let them know that he and his six would not be participating this year, as they had private matters to attend to.

It’s common for covens to use the holiday for something specific. Perhaps to bless a witch in need, or to strengthen a spell, or to defeat some evil. You remember that night that your parents left you alone for Beltane duties to fight and remove Dissenters, and how that turned out for you.

Magic hums all around you. It’s in the sigils on the ceiling of Seokjin’s sanctum and it’s in the ley lines that you can feel now more than ever as the veil between worlds thins. Each member of the coven has magic humming in their veins, a sort of signature taste and feel to it. You sense Yoongi’s deep shadows and Namjoons vibrant green, taste Jimin’s clean water and feel Hoseok’s pure air. Taehyung and Seokjin are the flickering flame that fills the room with light and heat, and Jungkook’s crackling storm greets you in the corner.

It’s hard to imagine where you fit in with them. But they don’t have a blood witch, who is all of these things wrapped into one. You know that they support you. The eight of you have gone over the ritual what feels like a hundred times at this point, perfecting it and making sure you know it inside and out.

The two rituals are wildly different. One to seek and find the source of your pain, led by Yoongi and Hoseok. Yoongi’s shadows and connection to the other side will help seek answers and provide clarity on whatever signs and hints come through the vision you’re supposed to have, and Hoseok’s strength with air will help keep you protected and clear of any negative energy.

Then, a small spell to build a bridge between the two rituals that Namjoon will handle with Jimin. Namjoon has it down to a science and has previously used it to link spells, and his affinity for earth will ground the entire circle. Jimin’s skill with water is to help guide you from ritual to ritual with ease and clarity. 

It’s the second half of the ritual that’s the most demanding, which is why it’s Taehyung and Jungkook conducting the destructive half, breaking whatever stands between you and your magic. Two warriors meant to sever your block or the target of your curse, whichever it may be.

And it’s possible that you’re cursed. You have briefly spoken about what that means. About what to do. It will most likely mean something damaging and life-threatening for whoever did curse you, if you forcefully try to shatter it instead of finding the cause. 

But there’s also potential for you to be harmed if the two of them try to break it and it’s too strong. It’s a risk that you have to assess in the moment, which is terrifying. You want to do it anyway, and you’re happy to find that they support you. That they’re there for you.

Coven members already, really. 

All seven of them are dressed to perform a ritual. Dark robes, anointed element symbols in dark ash on their brows. Yoongi has a small circlet around his head, making you pause and tilt your head as you glance at Seokjin. He sees your confusion and smiles. “Yoongi is our high priest tonight,” he murmurs. “He will start and end the circle so I can be here with you.”

Yoongi is blushing and looking up at the ceiling when you turn back to him. For him to step up and hold the circle as the beginning and end is a huge risk on him. He’ll be providing the most magic and taking on the most risk second only to you, all so that Seokjin can move freer and have more control.

“Yoongi is a very powerful witch, as you know,” Seokjin murmurs, steering you to the center of the room. “He holds circles for a lot of our rituals when we feel he’s better suited.” 

“Which is often,” Yoongi mutters at the ceiling where he keeps his gaze. 

“Yah, shut up, hag. Everyone get in their places.”

Seokjin puts you in the very center of the room. There is a pentagram chalked in powder, but there is no glow to it, no light to signal that it’s being used. He squeezes your shoulders and you look at him, wide eyed and afraid. His smile is warm and a little nervous, but he leans in and kisses you once.

“Trust us,” he says. “This will be hard on you. But we’ve got you.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t break the circle,” he reminds you. “If you have to break, do it when Namjoon is at the middle part and before we start the second ritual. He will open the circle a little, but it’ll be just for a moment before the second is started and locked.”

“Right. Ten second escape if I need to.”

“You only have that window if we need to stop. Once we start the second, there is no stopping until the full ritual is complete.”

“Got it.”

“Good luck,” Seokjin whispers and kisses you on the brow. “I’ll be right here.”

With a deep breath, he steps to the side and grasps your hand. The two of you stand alone in the middle, you and your anchor. Silence settles over the room. You haven’t been in the middle of a circle since you were a little girl receiving her first welcome into the coven. You had done that with your sister by your side and your mother at the head of the circle.

Now, you’re with Seokjin, with Yoongi at the head of the circle. Yoongi doesn’t really make eye contact with you, but you sense his calming aura even from where he stands at the first point of the circle. He rolls his shoulders and closes his eyes, lifting his palms upward. “I stand at north, the beginning and end, start this circle, spirit ascend.”

You feel the ripple of magic in the room. Fire crackles at Yoongi’s feet, making you flinch. You watch as the red flames lick toward Hoseok, who is quick and light as he murmurs, “I stand northeast, to cleanse and protect, continue the circle, spirit to the next.”

You watch the flame as it sparks to life, moving clockwise around the room. Every time a member joins the circle, you feel the power thrum through the room, the pentagram beneath your feet beginning to glow. The flame comes all the way back around to Yoongi and he closes it, eyes opening and looking right at you.

Yoongi looks different than before, eyes shadowed and full of stars. “Begin,” he commands, voice like a thousand whispers. 

A little spike of fear goes through you as Hoseok begins to chant. You recognize the Latin immediately but your unpracticed ears lose trace of the meaning. It’s picked up slowly in the room and you feel your palms slick with sweat as the light of the pentagram pulses beneath your feet, the flames flickering around the feet of the coven members.

Yoongi’s voice picks up the chant like you’ve never heard him before. It’s uncanny and you lean into Seokjin, who squeezes your hand and looks down at you.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “This happens when he leads a circle. Veil is thin.”

Nodding your head, you turn to the front again, feeling the itch to pull power from the circle, to draw their magic into you. There’s so much of it filling the room, an open tap of water spilling into the sink. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip, worried that you won’t be able to resist, worried that you’re going to pull from the magic and-

A wave of dizziness hits you. You gasp and bend over, hand circling your middle as though you’ve just been punched. Seokjin’s hands are on your back but you can’t hear him, a high-pitched ringing drowning out the sound of his voice. For a second, you’re lost in the sensation of having the air sucked from your lungs and the whine in your ears getting higher and higher.

Just when you think that your ear drums will burst, the ringing stops. There is a hushed whisper filling your ears and you still can’t catch your breath. The room spins a little and when you look up expecting to see Yoongi, all you see is dark trees and a blurry shadowy… building. Something. 

The whispers creep up on you. There are so many of them, hundreds - no, thousands - of voices brushing against you, dragging their fingers along your skin, touching you, hissing, singing, screaming. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced and their words are jumbled, sliding over one another.

Terror begins to claw at you. You try to remain calm, remembering that these are not the voices of spirits or something evil. Hoseok is commanding this ritual, an element of purity and guidance. He won’t let anything bad happen to you.

With faith in your future coven member, you try to focus on the voices. Try to decode them. Namjoon warned you that the messaging might be confusing. That you might not follow or understand what it’s saying. Symbols, images, key words. You need to reach for anything that seems like something, that can point to the origin of your block and follow it. 

Yoongi’s presence presses at the back of your mind. It startles you at first, to feel who you know is innately Yoongi. You follow the press of whatever he’s doing and you catch a few words that fly by you: little hut little hut. Little hut little hut. Little hut little hut. 

Unsure what it means, you cling to that. Little hut. It means something… you remember something about it. Yoongi’s presence fades away, satisfied that you’ve picked up on whatever it is he sees or senses. 

Flipping through memories, you try to remember why a hut might mean anything to you. There were no huts by your town… nothing that you can remember no one you know of. 

Little hut, little hut.

One memory sticks with you. Your sister playing in the background, hopscotching to a little tune that Mila down the street whispered to her about a witch in the woods. 

Little hut, little hut

Hidden in the wood

Little hut, little hut

Up to no good

Yes, you think. A rhyme about a witch who lived in the woods. More thing than witch, really. A shadowy being that took the shape of a hut, a creature of magic and curses that could be found in the darkest part of the woods when the veil is thin. 

Little hut, little hut

Alone in the gloom

Little hut, little hut

Silent as a tomb

You see it now. The blurry shape of a house that’s not really a house. The witch in the wood was a blood witch once, it was said. A witch who had long since dissented and practiced arcane magic, following a path that led her here. That led her to this. A thing of the woods. 

It occurs to you the weight of the appearance of her. This hut in the woods. Yoongi’s flippant remark about you being cursed is suddenly real.

Dread drops down in your stomach like a weight. You can’t hear anything beyond the rhyme, the chant to find the witch of the woods. You’re cursed, you realize. All the fear that your condition was self-inflicted, that it was your fault, that this was something you did. 

This is something that happened to you, Seokjin had said.

And he was right. Someone cursed you - did this to you. A child. 

Out there in the world, there is someone responsible for the death of your sister. Someone who took your magic, who turned you into a leech. The reason for your family's pain, the reason for them throwing you away. For your father and mother being driven mad, for the town turning against you.

You think about the rock that hit you just days ago. Thrown by a child taught to hate you. Taught that it was okay to hurt you because it was you. The town siphoner. A witch who couldn’t make her own magic, a parasite. 

Anger wells up inside of you and you latch onto the rhyme swirling around your head, clawing through it. This is the thread you must follow to find your curse giver. This is the clue.

Little hut, little hut

Across the dark stream

Little hut, little hut

Wait for the scream

Dully, you are aware that Seokjin is next to you. You see him from the corner of your eye but it’s not Seokjin at all. Well - not as you now know him. This Seokjin is younger - a teenager by the looks of it. He’s not doing anything except staring out into the darkness. He fades in and out like a bad TV picture, glitching and blurring. But you know it’s him. 

His face is different though. Twisted in grief and pain, a frozen picture of angst. You imagine this is what you looked like when your sister died, a tableau of hurt and hate. 

Little hut, little hut

I call to thee

Little hut, little hut

Come to me

The Seokjin in front of you fades away. You reach out for him but your hands cut through empty air and darkness. He’s not really there and you have a hard time grasping the meaning of this. The voice sounds almost like Seokjin but not quite. Not as mature. 

Young Seokjin doesn’t show up again. You can feel the real Seokjin somewhere in the mess of the vision and the darkness, but you can’t hear him. Can’t see him. There is only the omnipresent darkness of the hut and the whispers of voices. 

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

There’s a flash of lightning. A storm in the darkness, splashes of purple and blue electricity. You cover your eyes as you hear thunder, low and soft somewhere. Across from you, your sister appears. She’s a fraternal twin who looks nothing like you except in the eyes. Your eyes look right back at you.

She’s the same age she was when she died. When you took her magic away. When you were cursed. She looks the same age as the apparition of Seokjin, and you try to understand. To make the connection from what you're seeing as the lightning lances again like it did that fateful night.

The rhyme keeps circling in a hurricane of whispers. 

As the ritual comes to a close, the vision begins to fade. You’re no better off than where you started and in a panic, you reach for the vision of your sister. You just want to hold her one last time, to feel the warmth of her skin.

But she isn’t real and she fades as Hoseok’s chanting falls to a murmur and then to a whisper, the air returning to normal. You can breathe again, and as you look up from where you’re bent over, you see Seokjin kneeling on the ground in front of you, holding you by the shoulders. His face is swimming with fear and concern, gaze searching.

Seokjin looks so much like his younger self. He’s matured into his face and is a handsome man, but he was a cute teenager. His face now is full of love and concern, but you think about his face in your vision. Twisted in pain and years. 

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

You straighten up suddenly, knocking him over on his ass as you do so. It feels like you’ve been slapped as you stare at him, a sudden buzz in your ears as you stare and stare and stare. The ritual comes to an end and Namjoon opens the circle - a foot in the door, more like - and begins to start his spell for Taehyung and Jungkook to weave the new ritual into the circle. 

Without thinking about it, you dash for the edge of the circle. Seokjin yells but you’re fast, surging between Namjoon and Jimin where the door exists. Namjoon’s head snaps to look at you, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Close it and close the circle,” you pant. 

“I-”

“Close the fucking circle!”

Seven pairs of eyes look at you then. They hesitate for a moment, the flames around them wavering. You can feel the power licking at their heels and something like rage shudders through you. You don’t know where to channel it yet and you begin to pace as Namjoon recloses the circle and turns to Yoongi. 

Slowly, Yoongi begins to finish the ritual. They work backward from Yoongi to Jungkook to Taehyung to Jimin. You don’t look at them, wringing your hands as you pace back and forth, heart reaching a wild beat. 

Images fly by. The hut, the whispers, Seokjin’s face, the thunderstorm, your sister. 

The narrative isn’t straightforward. You don’t quite understand the rhyme, or its function, but the second half sounds bad, sounds perhaps like a plea. A bargain. A need for a curse. You recall the thunderstorm on the night of Beltane, the way your sister watched with wide eyes while you sought her out. You think of Seokjin’s affinity for fire and storms, the way he can command thunder just by being upset. You think of his face, so full of pain and hate. 

Finally, they finish the circle. Seokjin rushes to you, hands outstretched and a question on his mouth but you jerk away from him. 

“Did you curse someone?” you demand, making him pull up short. He opens and closes his mouth. The silence in the room is deafening. You can hear your own heartbeat, pulse throbbing in your ears. “Seokjin, did you curse someone?”

“I… what does that have to do with-”

“Little hut, little hut. Hear my strife. Little hut, little hut. Ruin this life.” 

Three things happen then. The first is Seokjin’s confusion as he shakes his head, lost as to why you’re repeating a rhyme back to him. Then a flicker of memory followed by the drain of color on his face. He straightens up, blanched and shaking his head back and forth as he takes a step away from you.

“No,” he says and takes another step back. “That’s not right, I didn’t curse you.”

“What did you do?” 

“I didn’t curse you,” he says again. He seems lost in it though, like he’s saying it to himself. Yoongi takes a step toward Seokjin and he holds out a hand, warding Yoongi off. “I cursed the witches responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t curse you.” 

“You cursed someone?” Taehyung hisses from across the circle. “And you never thought to mention it in preparation for this?”

“Shut up, Taehyung,” Seokjin snaps. “I didn’t curse her. I did go into the woods that night to find the hut witch and I cursed the people responsible for killing my parents. I didn’t even know you then.” 

“Did you give a name? What did you say?” 

“I didn’t know their names!” He answers, frantic and looking at you pleadingly. “I didn’t - no. I remember it, I shared my blood with her, to show the memory. I saw their faces, but I didn’t know their names. We were -” his voice cracks and he clutches his hands against his chest, tears in his eyes. “I was so afraid when they came. We’d been going from town to town, trying to get away. My parents wanted to go back home, overseas. We just had to get there and then these witches, they came and blew down the door and they killed them.”

“So you cursed them based on a memory?”

“Yes,” he insists. “Baby, I didn’t curse you. How could I? How would I?”

Little hut, little hut

Hear my strife

Little hut, little hut

Ruin this life 

“Seokjin.” You say his full name, voice ringing and calmer than you feel. Your stomach is in knots and you feel your mouth water, hinting at the nausea working its way up your throat. “Did you ask the blood witch in the hut to ruin the lives of the witches who killed your parents?”

“Yes.”

“Were your parents Dissenters killed on the night of Beltane?”

A long stretch of silence takes up the space between you. You stare at Seokjin and he becomes a stranger. Become another person on the street that looks at you with hate. Another face in the dozens of the town who don’t care if you exist. 

When Seokjin says nothing, it says everything. The final piece of information slots its way in and you feel like you’re going to crack open like an egg and spill out. Gooey and yolk-yellow. 

“That was why there was a storm,” you whisper. “Because you were angry and upset, wherever it was that you were. And you cursed my family. Not my parents. Our entire family. That’s why I lost my magic and siphoned my sister to death. That’s why my parents were driven to madness and their eventual end. It’s why everyone hates me. You cursed me with ruin.”

“I…” Seokjin shakes his head but can’t make the words come out. 

There is no way out now. You get everything picture perfect for the first time. It’s the perfect curse, really. Driving your family to ruin in different ways. Pushing you, the final member of the family, to the person you would eventually fall in love with, to the person that cursed you.

You can’t break it. Not knowing that it’s most likely at the cost of Seokjin’s life. Giving his blood to the witch was a terrible thing. She used it to cast the curse and likely to bind it to him. Which means if you want your magic, you must kill Seokjin. 

Instead of standing there to consider the possibility, you turn and run. He tries to run after you but someone stops him. He has his coven to comfort him for what he’s done and you have nothing and no one. Just how you started. 

Your runaway is messy. Tripping over thresholds, slipping down stairs. Night stretches over the world and the air is thrumming with energy. You think it would be so easy to tap into, to take and take and take the magic around you that echoes from the Beltane festivals. Would anyone even notice if you took a little?

Still, you don’t. Hot tears blind you as you stumble into the woods behind Seokjin’s house. It’s not the best shortcut when you’re distraught and overcome with tears, but you think you can get to your apartment building by memory alone. 

Around you, the world grows darker and quieter. Eventually, all you can hear is your ragged breathing and sniffling as the tears freefall. Something prickles on your skin and you slow your tangled escape to look around you.

The woods are unfamiliar. At least, they seem darker and hazier, like you’re somewhere that looks like the woods behind Seokjin’s house but isn't quite right. You’re more careful as you move forward, one foot in front of the other. 

A breeze cools the back of your neck. It makes you shiver, feeling more like a finger running down your spine than the actual wind. A whisper of noise wisps by you and you stop, frowning. Trying to grasp the words as they float by, indiscernible. 

You start walking again, following the sound of a voice that is always just a little too far ahead. A little too soft spoken for you to make out the words. When you do manage to catch up, you hear a soft little rhyme. 

Little hut, little hut

Hidden in the wood

Little hut, little hut

Up to no good

Little hut, little hut

Alone in the gloom

Little hut, little hut

Silent as a tomb

Little hut, little hut

Across the dark stream

Little hut, little hut

Wait for the scream

Something like a high-pitched wail rings out behind you. Your limbs lock and goosebumps explode over your arms and legs as you slowly crane your neck to look in the direction that you came. There’s no clear path, just tangled trees and darkness. 

A soft buzz tingles along your skin. You sense the magic, static that you can’t hear but you can feel and taste on your tongue. Slowly, you turn back to face the direction you’re walking. There is a tiny little stream in front of you, trickling and black.

Carefully, you step over it. Your hands quake. Sweat gathers on the nape of your neck and your upper lip, your mouth trembling as you see the vague shape of a hut. Or perhaps it's just the idea of a hut, with a hole for a door that looks endless. Void. Dark. 

You think about your sister. See her face swimming in front of you, so full of life. Then it drains of color as you bleed her dry and steal everything from her. Every drop, turning her from a beautiful girl full of the sun and the sky into a husk. 

You clench your fists. 

Vengeance can’t bring her back. Vengeance can’t make them love you. But it can take away this fucking hurt inside of you, the pain that you have carried for so long that it feels like a wound that will never close. So you decide to take a page out of Seokjin’s book.

“Little hut, little hut,” you whisper, voice shaking. “Feel my ache. Little hut, little hut, make him break.” 

#seokjin smut #jin smut #jin bts smut #seokjin angst #jin angst #jin bts fanfic #seokjin bts fanfi #kim seokjin smut #jim seokjin fanfic #jin x reader #jin you #minors dni #minors do not interact

[idyllic-ghost]

the other woman: part two; mingyu x fem!reader

request: Hey do you write seventeen angst? Idk if you are still doing requests but I was hoping you can write a dramatic angst using either Joshua, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Mingyu, or Minghao, Vernon but two of them as leads. Idk why I’m a sucker for cliche stuff like cheating or betraying kind of stuff and a touch of sadness.

synopsis: you're married to wonwoo, but his parents desperately wants him to have a child - which you cannot have. he gives into his parents wishes and meets the other woman, whom he eventually agrees to marry as well. you're left heartbroken for a few years, seeing the man you love build a family that you had always wanted, but happiness is on the horizon as you meet someone new.

a/n: i decided to make part two slightly shorter, and later post a part three! my computer is slightly broken and it’s very hard to write. i still wanted to update the story, so you’re going to have to deal with slightly shorter and more parts :))

cw: slight bit of angst

genre: fluff, found family

word count: -

read part one first!

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when you got home that evening, you didn't know whether you should cry or shout out of happiness. all of these random occurrences really made you believe in destiny. to celebrate, you took a hot shower and made yourself a gourmet dinner, in the form of your favorite instant ramen, only to sit down on the couch to watch some bad show on netflix. you were in the middle of a bite when you got a call. the caller-ID was unknown, but you already knew who it was. you quickly turned off the volume on the TV and put the bowl of noodles on the coffee table. "hello?", you answered. "hi, it's mingyu.. is this y/n?", he asked. "it is", you chuckled nervously, "hi." "i just put the girls to bed and... i just wanted to make sure you didn't give me a fake number.", he let out a small laugh. "mingyu, i'm really sorry about walking out on you.", you sighed. "no, i get it - you had your reasons.", he said, "it's not like i was being very nice by not letting you in on the fact that i have kids." "well, we didn't really spend much time talking...", you muttered, and succeeded in making mingyu laugh. "no, you're right. we should meet up again sometime." "we definitely should.", you bit your lower lip to contain your happiness, "maybe for a coffee or something? so that we could actually get to know each other." "that'd be fun.", he said, "i'll have to look in my schedule, i've been pretty busy lately." "oh, is that why your parents are picking up ji-u and ari?", you asked before thinking. "yeah..", he sighed, "i'd love to do it myself, but i almost never have the time. being a single dad is difficult." "i could imagine.", you hummed, "but if it helps, your daughters think the world of you." "thanks, y/n.", you could hear that he was smiling, "i'll try to pick them up more often... are you always there for pick up?" "don't try to change your schedule to come and see me while i'm at work.", you chuckled. "you caught me..", he said. "... i'm in charge of ji-u and ari's class on all days except mondays.", you said, "and i'll be there for their school play next week too." "shit, i forgot about the school play.", he groaned, "you know what? i'll make time for it - i just have to make a few calls..." "i'm sure they'll be very pleased if you show up.", you said with a smile, "those girls have worked extra hard, from what i've heard." you heard a young girl's voice in the background, crying. "sorry, y/n, ari's had a nightmare.", he sighed, "i'll see you soon." "don't forget about the play.", you said. "i won't."

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the next few days mingyu stopped by the school every afternoon to pick up his kids. he only missed it once, letting his parents go instead of him. you were always happy to see him when he arrived, and his smart daughters had taken note of it.

everybody had left the classroom, except for ji-u and ari as usual. you were keeping the busy with painting, when you noticed an unusual detail in ji-u's painting. "what are you making, ji-u?", you asked her. "a family portrait.", she said. you looked at the drawing, consisting of four people; two children and a couple. the twins had never met their birth mom, mingyu told you that she had died after giving birth, but there was a woman on the painting. you started internally freaking out, what if ji-u could see the ghost of her mother? there had been many movies made about children seeing ghosts. what if they were actually real? "oh... could you tell me who's who?", you asked carefully. "that's dad.", she pointed at the painting, "that's me and ari, and that's you." "me?", your face went red, "why am i in your family portrait, ji-u?" "because dad talks about you all the time.", ari said, showing you a similar family portrait, "and when dad comes to pick us up he always stays and talks with you." "you girls are attentive...", you muttered. "what does that mean?", ji-u asked. before you could say anything, mingyu knocked on the already opened door. he came in his usual fancy attire - which reminded you that you had yet to ask him what he does for a living. "gotta go, mom.", ari said and got out of her chair to run towards her dad. you looked over at mingyu, hoping that he hadn't heard what she had said, but of course he had. he opened his mouth to say something, and then quickly shut it again. ji-u and ari were gathering their things, and putting away any painting materials they had used. watching as mingyu approached you, you stood up without a second thought. "that happens all the time...", you laughed nervously. in truth, it had happened maybe once or twice this year - coming out of the mouths of tired first grade students. your third grade students normally didn't call you mom. "i'm really sorry, i think it's because they see us together so much and-" "it's because you keep talking about her at home.", ari said matter-of-fact, "she's like our mom now. she takes care of us when you aren't here, like a mom." mingyu's face and ears went red, as you looked over at him with a small smirk. "you talk about me, sir?", you teased. "maybe sometimes- you know, before they have to go to school i tell them to not cause any incidents for you.", he stammered out. "last night you asked if ms. y/l/n was sick.", ji-u said. "because you looked a bit tired.", he added, "and i care about this school's staff- as anyone should." "but you never talk about mr. hong.", ari said, "you only ask about ms. y/l/n." "alright girls, i think it's time for us to go home now.", mingyu said and tried to get them out the door. "but i want to stay with mom.", ari grinned widely, seemingly enjoying making her dad embarrassed. "well, i see where she gets her smile from.", you muttered. "i won't go if she doesn't.", ari folded her arms across her chest, and ji-u followed shortly. "girls, this is really inappropriate-" "i could go get something to eat right now...", you said, "you girls like cake, right?" the twins happily shouted yes. you looked over at mingyu, asking him if it was okay without speaking any words. he took a deep breath, and then nodded. "then let's go get some cake, ladies.", he said, and finally got the girls out of the classroom.

that's how you ended up in a cute little café, close to the school. you were sitting in a booth, as the twins happily ate their cake in front of you. "i got you a cappuccino, i hope that's fine.", mingyu said as he sat down next to you, placing two cups on the table. "more than fine, thank you.", you smiled at him, "... i can't believe i agreed to do this." "thank you, though.", mingyu took a sip of his coffee, "when ari has put her mind on something, she can't let it go." "i think it's a nice trait", you said, "and i can't be mad at her for finally getting me that coffee date with you." mingyu let out a soft chuckle. when you looked up from your drink, you could see the two young girls in front of you staring. "i'm glad that you can be our mom, ms. y/l/n.", ji-u said, "the other lady dad brought home wasn't as nice as you." other lady? you put down your cup and looked at mingyu, asking for an explanation with your gaze. "i was dating someone before i met you. that's pretty much why i was at the cabin in the first place.", he said and turned to the girls, "it isn't nice to talk about people behind their backs, okay? and ms. y/l/n isn't your mom." "why not?", ari asked. "... because...", he was struggling to get an answer, so you decided to help. "you know how when you like someone you... decide to become girlfriend and boyfriend?", you said and they both nodded, "okay, well - for adults there's a stage before that where we... basically get to know each other better by going out to do things." "like this?", ari asked. "... no, you usually spend time together alone.", you said and looked over at mingyu, "i haven't gotten to spend enough time with your dad." "then i think he needs to hurry up.", ji-u sighed. when you glanced over at mingyu, his face was as red as a tomato. suddenly, you understood why ari found it so fun to embarrass him. "yeah, he should hurry up.", you said with an innocent-looking smile, "but i'll forgive him because he's been so busy." "could he take you out to dinner tomorrow night, then?", mingyu asked. you looked over at the twins, who eagerly nodded yes. "sure, he could.", you said.

it was saturday evening, you were getting ready for dinner with mingyu. for a while you had been solely focusing on your work and a few netflix shows, but now you would finally get yourself out there. you decided to wear an old red dress, that was hanging in the back of your closet - barely ever used. mingyu said he would take you somewhere fancy, so you assumed it was the appropriate attire. for once, during these traumatic few years, you felt pretty, and subsequently happy. it wasn't right to base your happiness on your beauty, it would only end in catastrophe - but was it so wrong to feel glee over getting ready and genuinely liking what the mirror showed you? after spending months contemplating whether your ex-husband picked someone else because they were just more beautiful, was it wrong to feel happy about feeling pretty? it could be debated whether it was good in the long run, or was only temporary happiness that could crash all too suddenly. even if it was bad for you, it felt nice and you were going to take advantage of it.

as you closed the apartment complex' door behind you, you heard someone saying your name. when you turned around, mingyu was standing at the end of the street. "good evening.", you said with a small, slightly shy, smile. "hi...", he was drinking you up with his eyes, "you look absolutely stunning." his words made you feel giddy, the kind of feeling you get when you watch a very romantic movie with a handsome lead. "i thought i would dress up a bit for our first date", you remarked and nervously added, "and you look handsome, by the way." he was dressed to the nines, as usual, in his suit and tie. "thank you.", he snickered, "my daughters said i looked like i was going to work." "well, i don't mind a man in uniform.", you teased. the two of you stood there, staring at each other. there was no awkwardness, only deep-rooted romantic tension. he took your hand in his. then, he suddenly pulled a face as if he remembered something important. "shit, there's a cab down the street waiting for us!", he laughed, "let's go."

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the evening started out with drinks. as you had expected, the restaurant he took you to was fancy. you had been to these kind of places before, but it had been a while - and you had never been to this particular place. mingyu ordered the two of you white wine, to which you got a salmon appetizer to start with. it looked too pretty to be eaten, and it almost hurt to cut into. "it's been so long since i haven't just eaten instant ramen in my pajamas for dinner...", you muttered, only loud enough for mingyu to hear. "then we should make the most of this.", he chuckled and brought up his wine glass towards you, "cheers?" you put down your utensils, hiding your smile by gently tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. as you brought up your glass to meet his, mingyu gently touched his glass to yours - creating a cute "ding" sound. he brought his as you did the same with yours. "i feel so fancy..", you muttered out with a giggle as you put down your glass. before mingyu could answer, the waiter came to take away the appetizer and bring the main course. your eyes widened at the sight of the food. you thanked the waiter, who then left the two of you to eat. mingyu was looking at you with a soft smile, and when you met his gaze he didn't look away. "do you want to go dancing after this?", he asked suddenly. "dancing?", you said, "if i can still walk after this meal, then yes. i'll go dancing with you." mingyu looked satisfied with your answer, and finally started eating.

you didn't back away from your promise, and after a fulfilling meal you decided to go dancing with him. to you, dancing was going to a club and getting out on the dance floor - but that's not entirely what mingyu meant. the cab was driving pretty far, to a part of the city where you hadn't been before. although, you did find it familiar. the buildings grew bigger and the architecture more detailed. you turned to mingyu, who was busy with looking at the buildings just like you. "i forgot to ask you where we're going.", you said, bringing him out of his trance. "just a small place that offers couple dancing.", he said, "i think you'll like it." couple dancing.. you hadn't danced like that since your wedding, and you definitely didn't remember how you did it. "i'm not sure i would be very good at it.", you said, suddenly very anxious. "it's alright.", he put his hand on top of yours, "i'm not very good either." "mingyu, that doesn't make me feel better.", you let out a small, nervous laugh, "if neither of us can dance, then why are we going?" "... because it gives me a reason to stay with you for a bit longer.", he admitted. you couldn't argue with that. leaving hm after dinner seemed all too soon, especially since you didn't know when his busy schedule would let you see him again. you turned your hand around, intertwining your fingers with his. "as long as you don't drop me or anything... i think i'll be fine, then.", you smiled.

the cab stopped outside a big, beautiful building, with music pouring out of every window. on a sign outside the door it said "foxtrot night". mingyu noticed how your eyes lingered on the sign. "do you know foxtrot?", he asked with a chuckle. "not one clue...", you said, "do you?" "a bit", he shrugged, "but not nearly enough." already being a bit drunk, all you could do was giggle at his statement - there wasn't the smallest bit of worry in your body anymore. your arm was secured around mingyu's, as he was leading you inside the building - having a quick word with one of the staff members to get you in a bit quicker. before you could question if that was the right thing to do, you saw the dancing hall. it was huge, decorated almost as detailed as a big european, catholic church. people were on the big floor, dancing, and others were sitting at the tables surrounding the area. the staff member mingyu had spoken briefly with was leading you to one of said tables, placed in a corner and far from any other table. "do you want anything to drink?", mingyu asked as he helped you sit down. "i don't think that i can dance if i drink any more than i already have.", you admitted. "a water, then?", he said with a small smile. "that'd be nice.", you nodded. you watched as he walked over the bar. the bartender looked confused, but quickly handed him two glasses of water before returning to his other customers.

after spending some time talking, and sobering up ever so slightly, you decided that it was time to try your best at dancing. just then, the song that was currently playing faded out, and frank sinatra started playing - what song you didn't know, you were all too focused on mingyu's hand on your waist. his hand was snug in yours as he lead you across the dance floor. he was right, he wasn't very good at this - but neither were you, so you couldn't really complain.

"i haven't danced in so long.", you said between laughter. "oh yeah? i couldn't tell.", mingyu teased, "you've only stepped on my feet four times already." "i said i was sorry.", you giggled, "and you're not a lot better, you almost made us crash into another couple before." "key word being almost, right?", he smiled. he looked down at you, and for a moment you got lost in his eyes. your hand gently moved on his shoulder - grazing his neck with your finger tips. mingyu squeezed your waist. for a moment, he was only a man - and not some big shot ceo, with the pressure of the company resting on his shoulders. his eyes took you back to those two weeks in the forest, a version of him that was much more laid back than what you had gotten used to after seeing him in a suit every day. in front of you was just a man with happiness and youth in his eyes, and nothing to lose. the song came to it's end, and he let go of you to bow down and gently kiss your hand. "thank you for the dance, sweetheart.", he said, his voice like honey. "you're very welcome.", you smiled.

the two of you went back to your table, resting your feet for the next song. mingyu had taken off his jacket, letting it hang on the back of the chair. his hair was slightly messy, from his hands running through it frequently, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. your eyes couldn't leave the beautiful sight in front of you, and he was definitely aware of it. mingyu pulled his tie down ever so slightly, and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. he leaned across the small table to push a few strands of hair away from your face. you felt your face heat up at his touch, and you were trying with every fiber of your being to not lean into his hand. "cute.", he said. "what?", you asked. "you're cute.", he leaned his elbow against the table and looked at you with loving eyes, "you were really confident back at the cottage, but now you get so flustered." you scoffed at his comment, despite knowing that it was kind of true. when you had met him the first time around, you had been in a bad place - with the mentality of having nothing to lose. now you actually wanted to make this work, and found yourself being extra careful about everything. "well, it's been a while since then.", you said as an excuse, "maybe i've just changed." "i don't think so", he smiled, "but i'll let you believe it, since i really like this side of you." the next song started playing, and before you could respond to his comment, mingyu was dragging you back out to the dance floor.

after the last song, you were getting very tired. without a second thought, mingyu offered to take you home. as you got outside, he was about to call a cab, but you stopped him. "could we just walk for a bit?", you asked, "i think i'm in need for some fresh air." that was a lie. in reality, you just wanted to find another excuse to spend a bit more time with him. mingyu gladly accepted anyway, and the two of you started to walk in the direction of your apartment. the plan was to walk as far as your legs could take you, and take a cab when it started getting a bit too much.

the stars were bright in this side of town, seeing as it was closer to the suburbs than the city. the lack of pollution also brought you fresh air. mingyu grabbed your hand, and suddenly the light from the street lamps and the dark blue sky started blending together in a beautiful waltz. you looked over at him. his hair was still messy, and his jacket was still off, hanging on his arm. you couldn't understand how he wasn't freezing to death, as you were. "are you cold?", he asked, seemingly reading your mind. "a little.", you responded. with a quick motion, he wrapped his jacket around your shoulders and went back to holding your hand. with your free hand, you pulled the jacket tighter around you - smiling as you felt his scent engulfing you. when you looked back up at mingyu, he was smiling. his golden skin seemed to glow in the light of the street lamps, and his eyes sparkled as if the stars had somehow fallen in there. when he looked down at you, you didn't avert your gaze. instead you wrapped your arm around his, letting go of his hand in order to close the proximity between you. his eyes never left yours, and as you were about to tell him just how happy you were that you had found him again, someone interrupted. "is that you mingyu?" you looked over to the source of the voice, seeing wonwoo. he was standing under the street light, just a few feet in front oof you. next to him stood his wife, holding her pregnant belly lovingly. you watched as mingyu let go of you, walking up to the man in front of you, and giving him a handshake. you were frozen in your place, and when wonwoo finally looked at you, you wanted to scream. he looked the same as he did when you had met him in the metro last week. "y/n?", he asked. you gave him a half-assed smile, and a greeting to him and his wife. mingyu looked back at you, then at wonwoo, and you could see the realization hit him. "oh wait, you're the mingyu that y/n's seeing?", wonwoo asked with a surprised smile, "what a small world, huh?" you had forgotten that you had lied to wonwoo that day in the metro, and now everything around you was crashing. luckily, mingyu didn't comment on it. you took a better look at wonwoo, noticing his daughter in his arms. she was fast asleep, as wonwoo held her close to his chest. you suddenly remembered, a long time ago, that wonwoo had told you of a kim mingyu - the ceo of a rivalling company. the fact that you hadn't puzzled it together yet was embarrassing. you also realized why the neighborhood was so familiar. the jeon family didn't post many pictures of their neighborhood at night, but you should've realized anyway. you watched as the two men spoke with each other, never really listening and wishing that you could melt into the concrete ground below you.

as they left you muttered out a weak good-bye. they got into wonwoo's car and drove off to the suburbs near by. you were left standing there, looking after a car that wasn't even visible any more. mingyu wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you from behind, and you carefully leaned into him. "so that's the guy?", he muttered. "it is.", you said, "isn't she beautiful?" "who? gyeong-hui?" "no.. the baby.", you felt your eyes tearing up, "even when she was sleeping, she looked like a bundle of joy." mingyu was quiet, but he hugged you a bit closer to his chest. you wiped away a tear from your cheek before it could fall to the ground. you wanted to hate that child, along with gyeong-hui, but you couldn't. gyeong-hui seemed to be kind, the type of woman that wonwoo's family would definitely approve of, and the child was... well, you couldn't bring yourself to hate a child in the first place. moreover, the way that wonwoo held the baby so protectively made you think of the family you really wanted. you were jealous, but more so confused - how could you still feel love for him? the years you spent together obviously can't just disappear from your memory, but did they have to be so persistent? "i hope they're happy.", you got out of his grip, "i'm really sorry mingyu, but could you call that cab now?" "of course, of course.", mingyu got his phone out of the pocket of his trousers. you wanted to ask him about his relationship to wonwoo, but it wasn't the right time to do so. instead, you gathered yourself and got ready to pretend like nothing happened. mingyu put his phone back in his pocket. "they'll be here shortly.", he said, "do you want to talk about... what happened?" "hm? what happened?", it didn't cross your mind that he might want to hear about it, "it's alright, nothing happened." mingyu grabbed your hands in his, gently tracing small figures on the back of your hand with one of his thumbs. you looked up at him, meeting his gaze. he looked a bit worried, but put on a warm smile. "it's not fun meeting someone from the past. especially if they treated you poorly.", he said, "if you don't want to talk about it, i don't mind, but you should know that i'm really sorry for putting you in that situation. had i known i wouldn't-" "it's alright, mingyu.", you said with a reassuring smile, "you didn't know." the two of you stood there, still holding each others hands. you felt yourself relax again, but you hadn't even realized that you were tense in the first place. after a moment of nothing but silence and warm smiles, mingyu spoke again. "so do you mind telling me why jeon wonwoo seems to know about us?". he grinned. "i told him i was seeing someone new when i met him at the metro a week or so ago.", you admitted with a sigh, "i don't know why i said your name... i'm sorry." "it's alright, i don't mind him thinking that.", he said, "and if you want me to never mention it again, i won't." you gave him a a small, crooked, smile - you probably looked like a mess by now but, by the look in mingyu's eyes, he didn't seem to mind. he took away one of his hands from yours, and reached for your face, gently cupping your cheek.

by the time you got home that night, you had partially forgotten about wonwoo. mingyu made sure to get you happy and smiling brightly again, even if it was just for a short cab ride. as you left the car, you felt like the sun was perched on your shoulders - warmth spreading through your body, and light emitting from your smile. "goodnight, sweetheart.", mingyu said from inside the cab. you were leaning against the open door. he had tried to get outside the car to say goodbye, but you assured him that it wasn't necessary. as you handed him his jacket, he put his hand on yours and gently tugged at you to lean further down. "would it be very inappropriate of me to kiss you right now?", he asked quietly, "because i would really like to, but only if you feel-" you broke the distance, and before he could say another word kissed him quickly. when you leaned back up mingyu's eyes were still closed. "thank you for tonight.", you said, "i really needed a night out." "anything for you.", he said without thinking, only realizing the meaning of the words after he spoke them. he cleared his throat and turned away from you to hide his flustered face. the cab driver asked if he was going to have to wait there all night, in a half-joking manner, and mingyu quickly apologized. "goodnight, mingyu.", you said with a small, teasing grin. "i'll see you soon.", he answered.

-

part three coming soon !!

#seventeen #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop writer #fanfic #svt #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen x y/n #svt mingyu #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu #mingyu seventeen #mingyu svt #mingyu

[burr-ell]

To expand on the previous post (with excellent addition by @kerosene-in-a-blender), I genuinely believe Laudna as a character would be a lot stronger in one of two scenarios:

1. Ditch the Whitestone stuff. I say this as someone who has produced almost nothing but de Rolo content—that is too big a part of Campaign 1 not to completely overshadow anything different the character tries to do in a long-form narrative. I think they could have threaded that needle, but that requires so much more focus and attention that a fast-paced story about a moon conspiracy just isn't built for. It's been 65 episodes and Whitestone nostalgia is all the character has meaningfully contributed to the narrative.

They put themselves between a rock and a hard place before the story even started. You can't bring in Delilah too often without inevitably treading on Campaign 1, but you also can't use her too little—not just because she's Delilah Briarwood, but also because that's the patron of a PC and your PCs need to be taking center stage. And yet there is nothing Delilah's presence has done in the story thus far that could not have been accomplished by a completely different, hitherto-unknown necromancer patron. Laudna's experiences in Whitestone could be replaced with a similarly traumatic backstory (it's not like Exandria is hurting for necromancers abusing power) and she'd have to actually elaborate on it and flesh out the worldbuilding and think about the backstory instead of being able to lean on "Hey, you guys remember that Briarwood arc? Freaky, right?"

2. Keep Laudna as she is and use her in an EXU miniseries. Set it in northwestern Tal'Dorei, where she's been wandering aimlessly for thirty years, spending half the time disassociating and half the time making her dolls. She meets a colorful group of people and they go on some adventures, and she finally decides to take back her life and do something about the voice in her head. You'd basically keep the Whitestone episodes of C3 as they are, give or take a few beats, as the climactic episodes of the series, and then the newly fire-forged friends set off for whatever new journey awaits them.

Maybe Laudna switches patrons; maybe she ditches the warlock thing entirely; maybe she ends the miniseries not knowing what she wants but excited to learn about it with her new companions. Mini-campaigns don't have to worry about that kind of thing! You can have your Whitestone nostalgia and some fanservice while still telling a pretty fun story, and it won't feel like a weird extra appendage to a main campaign that otherwise has very little to do with it. I wouldn't say it's a story I'd be interested in seeing continue, but it's perfectly serviceable for something small and self-contained.

What it has not been serviceable for is the long-form story of Campaign 3.

Honestly, I was a little concerned about all of this even before I started watching all the way through, but I wanted to give it time and judge it for myself. I don't believe in unfounded doomsaying, and I wanted to give the show a chance to do something interesting. And it has been 65 episodes, over 260 hours of content, which I think puts us well past the window of "give it a chance", and Laudna has spent the vast majority of her time not meaningfully engaging with her levels of warlock if it doesn't contribute to creepy girl vibes. (She frankly isn't engaging with her levels in sorcerer, either.) She's never even addressed potentially finding a new patron—so does she not want to? But then why is she so distressed about the idea of Delilah resurfacing? And if she does want a new patron, why has nothing actually happened in the almost-thirty episodes we've had since the Whitestone trip? If she's been "fighting Delilah for thirty-odd years", why didn't she take the chance to explicitly try to connect with, say, the Sun Tree? Or literally anyone else?

And honestly, as a Campaign 1 fan I have to say I'm also frustrated at how Delilah's presence specifically undercuts that story. Like, yeah, you have a technical reason for why she's still here, but "well she IS a powerful necromancer" is just a mechanical explanation, not a dramaturgical one. Her story is done. The chapter closed. She had ample opportunity, including when specifically asked by the Hells, to state any specific goals—any at all—and didn't. This is the woman who menaced Percy and Vex? This is the woman who permanently killed Vax? ...Really?

It could have been an interesting challenge to take on in referencing something from the past while bringing something new to the table, and it's not like they haven't done that before; they've already shown with Jester and the Traveler that it can be done. But they haven't done it here; any opportunity for Laudna to grow beyond her vague concepts—"What if Sun Tree Body...with Delilah patron? What if weird scary girl...but happy?"—has been generally ignored. Her killing Bor'dor is the first time in the entire campaign that she's done something that really got my attention, and in two episodes it's almost immediately papered over, followed by some inexplicable "must you continue to reconquer?" word salad about the gods.

Marisha explicitly refused to create a new character until she knew for sure whether or not Laudna would be resurrected. But if she enjoys her so much, when is she going to do anything meaningful with her?

#critical role #cr meta #long post #i would love to believe that something will happen with her but i've been hoping for something to happen all this time and it hasn't #it seemed like it would! and then it kinda just. fizzled out and got papered over #like you can't just say 'nono her character is great she really picks up after 300 hours of pure aesthetic and nothing else' #like. that's a lot of potential and increasingly diminishing returns #and it's WEIRD. because i've had beau for five episodes and she's so much stronger as a character #i've never been really into keyleth as a character but she similarly feels really grounded #and patia was around for four episodes and was an absolute tour de force #like we KNOW the player can do better. why isn't she

[therealvinelle]

Why do you think fanfic writers lie in their fic tags? Like, a fic itself contains several semi-graphic depictions of het sex, and yet the tag is Gen. What is the thought process behind doing shit like this?

They're sick fucks, that's why.

To be more serious: I think few people set out to intentionally deceive their readers, and the ones that do usually want readers so badly they forget themselves. Genuine bad actors are rare, or so I choose to believe.

As it is, I suspect I'm a misleading tagger myself, at least to some.

The way I treat tags is as warnings, so I will tag ships featured in my works even if they're one-sided, background, or in the past because that way people who don't want to see that ship know to avoid my story. Edward/Carlisle and Jacob/Renesmee getting tagged in my fic Bleach on the Brain is an example of this: sucks if you clicked on the fic because you're a shipper but the way I see it, sucks worse if you don't want to see those and now you're reading a fic with father/son incest and a guy in his mid-twenties grooming a child in it. If I hadn't done this, if I'd only kept the pairings which were depicted positively, then the negative tags in that fic (grooming, sexual assault, etc) would have been assumed to be related to those and someone else would have been upset with me.

I tag this way because @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin learned the hard way (i.e.: got hate) that tagging only for endgame will get a lot of people very mad at you, but now A/B shippers have fics depicting their ship negatively. It's a losing game.

So that's bringing me to a major reason why I think misleading tags happen (which gets a headline so I can tell myself this post is structured):

People have different ideas of how works should be tagged

Some people want to tag for everything that happens in the fic. Literally everything, if it's a smut you know exactly what goes where just from reading the tags.

This also means they might tag characters who appear only briefly in a scene in chapter 35 (the fic having 56 chapters so far and being 500k+ long), because hey, the character appears. Or maybe they're brought up a lot and are very important to the fic even if there's not much actual screentime, so a character like Voldemort gets tagged in a Harry Potter fic focused on the war without him actually appearing all that much.

On the opposing side you have the minimalists. They tag the main two characters and put three more in the additional tags so it won't go in the character tag, and add a ship tag some 30 chapters in. There are two additional tags, both are very vague. If that - I've seen people who don't tag at all, or who just tag with a single character, or just the ship - it really is up to the individual.

I've noticed the type of author (whether Ao3 was their first platform, how much time they spent elsewhere, whether it's an imported fic, and how old the author is) and the type of fic (how old it is, the author's background, and genre (oneshot, drabble, multi-chapter, 5+1, etc.)) influences tagging.

Common to all authors, though, is they try to tag as they feel is appropriate for their fic.

Which brings me to the next issue:

How do I tag?

A lot of people are confused about this.

They're confused about what tags mean - what's freeform (I honestly keep forgetting what this one is supposed to be too), when something should be tagged, what belongs in relationship or character tags vs. additional tags, what additional tags are supposed to be.

Do you, for that matter, try to explain your story in the tag ("this is a roommate AU with feelings") or do you tag succinctly ("roommate AU", "feelings", "fluff") or a combination? A lot of authors seem to prefer the first and last options, from what I can tell it's become the norm. Most authors seem to use the additional tags to connect with the reader in this way, and so you get people placing more emphasis on the additional tags than the succinct tags.

How do I tag? Sensibilities section

Then there's the question of sensibilities: what's triggering to reader A may be great stuff to reader B, with the author not realising it could be triggering to anybody and should have been in the tags, or the author thought knees brushing against each other warranted big red warnings that "they literally had sex, oh god this is so dirty. so dirty!! can't believe i wrote this. ENTER AT OWN RISK" which of course is very disappointing to the sick fucks who wanted porn.

Or the opposite happens: the author knows the subject is triggering, which means people might not click on the fic, and they want attention so badly they ah weasel out. Or option three: the author can't tag without spoiling the story, and so they either put "creator chose not to use warnings", don't rate it, and let the readers enter at their own risk or they use tags uh strategically (have a look at how I tagged Nebuchadnezzar's Dream to avoid spoiling the bloody coup d'état that happens at the end. Today I simply would have gone for no warnings and no rating, but those tags are also a solution which I think is... alright, I suppose "massacre" could have been added but it was entirely off screen so to me would have been an abuse of the tag).

In other words, everyone will be tagging differently and sometimes it's because they've no clue which tag is warranted, sometimes they're trying not to spoil their story, sometimes they didn't realise they should or shouldn't have tagged for something.

Anthologies (when someone posts their oneshots as chapters of a story)

These used to frustrate me endlessly, until I saw a "how to help readers find your fic!" post explaining that with anthologies, your readers get a notification every time you post a new oneshot and it's easy to find them all!

Which, in retrospect, is the most fanfiction.net statement I've ever seen (indeed, OP was an old ffnet dog).

Ao3 allows collections, and is unique in this: to older fandom people, putting your thematically connected oneshots together as chapters of a story used to be how it was done, having 54 connected drabbles on your fanfiction.net profile where readers couldn't filter them out nor select to view only the drabbles put together made perfect sense. And then they never adapted to Ao3's features, and other users seeing these anthologies copied the action because hey, stats.

I'm still frustrated with these people and wish they would just post their oneshots individually, but I think a lot of them are just... really really keen on the numbers on their fics going up, and not thinking about the purpose of the archive, utilising its features, nor that they're making their oneshots harder to find and annoying a lot of people.

The tag difficulty with anthologies, of course, being that if you have two oneshots in it, one with characters A and B and you tag it for X and Y happening, the other oneshot is with characters C and D and you tag it for Z and W happening, and continue like this for 30 chapters, then you have a wall of tags so everyone will see your story, good on you, but your readers have no way of knowing what's happening in your story or to which characters, and they're either patient enough to click their way through every goddamn chapter or they just scroll past your thing. Either way you're cloying a looot of tags and the readers who wanted Z and W happening to A and B are pissed because they clicked their way through god knows how many chapters only to not get what they wanted (and now they don't like anthologies either).

(Disclaimer: sometimes drabbles or oneshots are so interconnected that it doesn't make sense to separate even on Ao3, so to every rule there's an exception.)

In conclusion

Most authors are making tough choices when tagging, or they don't know how to tag, or they want readers very badly (and what you as a reader can do to ameliorate this is to comment and kudos frequently! Even give positive notes in the bookmarks when you make a new one because believe me we check!).

Or they're writing an anthology, in which case you should be very skeptical about those tags.

#writing #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanfiction.net

[bloodgulchblog]

Hi!! Ok sorry for the mammoth question I’m about to ask but you’re super knowledgeable on Halo stuff and I need help- sorry if I don’t word things well my brain is having a day

Ok so I’m writing a Spartan character and I can’t find too much on the specifics of how they were trained. I’m trying to determine what kind of trauma would come out of being beaten into a Spartan, especially the IIs and IIIs.

Basically trying to figure out what kinda trauma they have/how bad it is so I can roadmap my character’s recovery yknow

*CRACKS MY KNUCKLES*

You came to the right nerd. This is pretty much like throwing a kong ball full of peanut butter into my enclosure. This post is gigantic and I had so much fun.

If you want to read it directly for yourself, you're looking for Nylund's Halo books. The Fall of Reach covers the Spartan-IIs, and Ghosts of Onyx covers the Spartan-IIIs. I'd happily recommend either of those, they're well-liked Halo novels for a reason. Ghosts does work pretty well on its own if you want to focus on the IIIs, but it benefits from having read Fall first. (...And First Strike, but I will contain myself.)

If you want IVs, which are very different because they were selected and augmented as adults with military experience, your options are New Blood by Forbeck or the comic Initiation. (I'm not really a big fan of either so it just depends on if you'd prefer it from Buck or Palmer.)

That said, let's get going.

(....I want the readmore cut to be here, but Tumblr keeps moving it when I make edits. So.)

Spartan-IIs and Spartan-IIIs: Training

These guys have a lot in common, and they feel weirdly familiar to one another. (Just enough that the differences feel even weirder.)

Both groups started training as young children. The IIs were all six years old, the IIIs cast a wider net. Ghosts mentions kids as young as 4 in Alpha, but that doesn't... make sense actually. Because we have canon DOBs we know Carter would've been 12 and Jun would've been 8, and those numbers feel closer to right, but I'll get to why in a bit. (Researching this post has made me have a revelation about Spartan-III ages.)

Spartan-IIs were selected for genetic matches to a profile that Dr. Halsey determined was likely to accept the augmentation procedures. (The failure rate was still very high though. I'll talk about that.) They were kidnapped from their homes by ONI operatives and brought to Reach. Here's what they were told because hahahahaha big iconic moment:

(One note: Spartan-II training began in 2517. This was 8 years before the Covenant attack on Harvest in 2525. They were absolutely trained to bring down human targets, and were taught that it was necessary to sacrifice human lives for the good of innocent people. The first class of Spartan-IIIs kicked off in 2532, and they would focus from the beginning on Covenant.)

There were a total of 75 Spartan-II candidates. No one died during training (...at least I am pretty sure, if someone died during training it was a retcon introduced later) but it was hard. Halopedia has a pretty thorough rundown of things we know they did. Most of those are in The Fall of Reach. The Tango Company bit is from First Strike. Bonus: Here's a story Gray Team tells in Envoy that isn't mentioned:

(If you want to know who the most feral and defiant S-IIs are with the most atypical profiles, you want to look at Gray Team.)

Surviving Spartan-IIs are going to be 49 years old as of Halo Infinite. (Though, like all UNSC infantry, they've spent huge amounts of time in cryo during ship travel over the years. Sergeant Johnson was chronologically 78 in Halo 3, if that helps.)

Spartan-IIIs were selected along a wider profile because the augmentations were changed by Colonel Ackerson to be 1) cheaper and 2) have a much higher success rate with a broader margin for compatibility. They were working with orphans the UNSC picked up on planets the Covenant attacked, so they also could not be as selective as the original project. The young S-IIIs' fear and anger toward the Covenant (and their desire for revenge) were huge motivators. There were hundreds of Spartan-IIIs in all 3 classes. (They exhausted the available candidate pool after Alpha, and Ackerson was pushing for efforts to more widely genetically profile children from colony worlds as a result…. 😬)

Here's how the first company of Spartan-IIIs (Alpha Company) got the intro. (We don't know what Beta and Gamma were told, but it's likely to be similar):

(Ghosts of Onyx, Chapter 6, this is immediately followed by a bit from the perspective of a boy named Shane that would probably be really useful to you if you're looking for some insight to what those kids were feeling. It's just too long to paste.)

Another note: Chief Mendez trained both groups of Spartans. We have fewer detailed descriptions of S-III training shenanigans, because there is a lot of time skipping during Ghosts of Onyx to demonstrate the catastrophic losses suffered by the Alpha and Beta companies. Given that Mendez was involved, though, they are likely to have been highly similar.

Based on what we do get of training in Ghosts, I see the S-III teams being pitted against one another in exercises more often than we see mention of the IIs doing. (This is likely because S-II was on Reach, a huge ass military base, and had much more access to personnel that could be dragged into this than Onyx, which was extremely remote and established solely for the purpose of minting Spartans.)

The Spartan-IIIs had much less training time than the IIs... at least originally. S-III Alpha Company had 4 years compared to the S-II's 8 years. ONI was banking on improved augmentation protocols and technology to make up for it. Kurt pushed for the later two classes to get more training time.

Another another note: Kurt, if you were not aware, is Kurt-051 (Kurt Ambrose, using the name ONI gave him to work under.) Kurt was a Spartan-II abducted by ONI (making it look like he died on a mission) specifically for this job in 2531. Kurt loved those kids. Their deaths weighed heavily on him. More on that later.

Spartan-II Augmentations

I wasn't sure where else to put this, so it's going here: Spartan-II augmentations had a huge wash-out rate. S-III had a much much much smaller percentage.

There were 75 Spartan-II candidates, and only 33 came out as intended. The rest of them suffered serious side effects, and several died.

Halopedia once again has a big pile of information.

I bring this up for two reasons: the first is that it's a thing they all went through and all lost people who were as close as siblings to.

The second is that some Spartan-IIs that initially washed out of the program at this point were rehabilitated. Dr. Halsey worked on individual therapies for Spartans whose bodies rejected augmentations, restoring some quality of life and, in some cases, successfully getting them back to a point where they could continue training. (Black Team and Red Team (Halo Wars edition) are both made up entirely of former wash-outs.)

ONI created jobs for and retained most Spartan-II wash-outs that couldn't continue as Spartans. Serin Osman, Musa, and Fhajad are examples.

Differences Between Spartan-III Companies

There were 3 companies of S-IIIs trained, so if you're working on a III you'll want to establish which one they were from. You can identify the generation of S-IIIs by the letter in their tag number: Jun-A266, Lucy-B091, Ash-G099. Alpha, Beta, Gamma.

(Sidenote on picking Spartan tag numbers for OCs: There's a specific range of numbers. S-II had 150 candidates observed even though only 75 were taken and trained, so their tag numbers range from 1-150. Alpha Company had 497 kids, Beta had 418, Gamma had 330. WIki's really good for making sure you're not duplicating an existing number. Spartan-IIs are pretty much all accounted for canonically but if you're writing a II OC you're already in your own city anyway.)

Here's a good wiki trailhead for you, individual articles for the companies tell you what we do know about their training, too. But if you like reading my words about things:

ALPHA COMPANY:

The first group Kurt and Mendez trained, starting in the last days of 2532 and going active in 2536. There are very few surviving members of Alpha Company, only seven canonical, because almost all of them were killed in one operation.

Ages are kind of fucky for Alpha Company, as I mentioned earlier because Ghosts implies they were really young, but the problem with that is that after only 4 years of training they would have not been old enough to undergo augmentation. Jun, Emile, and Carter were Alphas. Jun was 28, Emile was 29, and Carter was 32 at Reach, so they would've been from 8-12 years old at the start of training. I feel like we're meant to go with that.

That means surviving Alphas would be in their late 30s as of Infinite.

BETA COMPANY:

Started training in 2539 and went active in 2545. Kurt was devastated by the loss of the Alphas (he's terribly upset when he finds out what happened to them, the information was kept from him.) He tried to train Beta company better and harder (he managed to squeeze two more years in for them), but in the end it did not save them from a similar fate. There are a handful of surviving Betas that were not present for Operation TORPEDO, but Tom and Lucy were the only survivors that were there. Kat and Noble Six were Betas. They were both 22 when they died on Reach. (That puts them both at 9 at the start of training. Tom and Lucy were a little younger, they both would have been 6.) Ages are still slightly fucky there because that means Lucy and Tom would've been 12 at augment, but that... is close enough to almost work, sort of, I guess, oh Halo you're so silly. Anyway. Surviving Betas would be in their late 20s/early 30s as of Infinite.

GAMMA COMPANY:

The last class of IIIs started training in 2545. (I had to do a little digging to confirm this year because it was authorized in '44, you're welcome.) They had just been deployed in 2552 and most of them left Onyx a week before the Onyx Conflict (you know, where the whole planet disintegrated into Forerunner nonsense) kicked off, with only three teams left on-planet for that shitmess. They were being shoved out the door because Reach had just fallen and everything was on fucking fire.

They had the most training and Kurt and Mendez were terribly proud of them. These guys would be the youngest S-IIIs both in terms of yes, that's how time works, and in terms of how old they were when they started training. We have canonical DOBs on several of them that put them at 6 and 7. This is significant because the Gammas are the ones that were being rushed into production: They were put on hormones to induce puberty early when most of them were 12ish, so that they could be augmented. (You know, horrifying!) (This is the thing that kicked off my wild confusion about Spartan-III ages that has consumed me for the last hour. Thanks, Halo! :,) )

The big thing to know about the Gammas is that they got built different. Kurt hated what had happened to the Alphas and Betas, hated it desperately, and was willing to do anything he thought would give the Gammas a chance at survival.

Kurt changed the augmentations. He did this without authorization. The Gammas' brains got tweaked to give them a heightened response to stress/adrenaline that makes them more able to block out pain/shock and keep fighting, which Kurt hoped would help them make it through the meatgrinder missions ONI was determined to use them for. The problem? The Gammas require regular injections of antipsychotics to keep them emotionally stable, and they can become less rational and start having extreme responses that make them a danger to themselves and others if they are deprived of them. (They call these drugs "smoothers.")

Anyway, the Gammas were 13-14ish at the end of the war, and surviving Gammas (there are significantly more of them) are in their late 20s by Infinite. Their altered augmentations mean they're considered unsuited for high-visibility work, ONI considers them a potential huge liability if a Gamma ever goes off the rails so they prefer to keep them away from people. A lot of Gammas that are still alive have ended up as Headhunters. (That's also the case for a lot of surviving S-IIIs generally. I don't know as much about Headhunters, they're a part of the lore I find uninteresting.)

Also just because I feel like it, here's Kurt with one of the Gammas dying in his arms:

What Are Spartans Like?

"Records show Spartans routinely exhibited mildly sociopathic tendencies, difficulty with socialization. Furthermore…" - Halo 4

We're getting into more and more headcanon and interpretation, but hey. I offer this as creative compost for your bin.

Spartans are weird. Spartans are weird. The overall portrait of an adult S-II/III is that they're mostly quiet, serious, and very intense about whatever they're doing. Some are more talkative and sociable than others, some are more unsettling than others. There's some wide variability on how careful they are about other people and how responsible they do or do not feel toward them.

As far as Spartans go, I feel like John is high on the polite end, and I have reams I've said and could say about how he handles himself. You've got Spartans who are very contained like him (I'd say Owen-B096 is another good example, he's able to be shockingly gentle with a pack of scared high school kids in Battle Born.) But you've also got examples like, say, Emile, and Gray Team, and Kevin from this one story in the Fractures anthology:

Let me break down some major traits:

LACK OF NORMAL SOCIALIZATION/GENERAL SPARTAN WEIRDNESS:

Overall, Spartans are poorly socialized. Their priorities and experiences are so wildly different from most peoples' that it's a difficult gap for them to bridge, and they're required to hide the details of their personal histories because that's very dangerous and inconvenient information (you know, for the UNSC) to have around. They were isolated from other people as children, and as adults they are extremely busy and the things that make them different make it difficult for them to make up for lost time on this.

If you've seen me writing John, I have him struggling a lot because it feels like social situations are always full of weird traps he can't see because he just doesn't have the background for them. There are so, so many things you casually assume another person is familiar with in conversation, and so many little social call-and-responses that someone who was raised under such weird circumstances wouldn't have.

There's a post that goes around sometimes about a small child who has never heard "Later, alligator" responding with "Goodbye, hippo" or something like that because they'd never heard the "After a while, crocodile" response and had to guess at what they were supposed to do. I think about that post sometimes when I'm thinking about Spartans. They're smart, and they can imitate and figure things out and get good at faking more experience than they have (and the older a Spartan is the longer they've been picking things up), but they need something to work with.

A Spartan-II never snuck out with friends after curfew to go to a concert, was never nervous about who was going out with who, and never stressed about what they were going to do after high school. But they know that enough people experience those things to pretend they understand.

It's easiest to lie by not saying anything at all as much as possible, because then you don't give anyone who's watching you a little too closely something to pick apart. Let other people assume you're what they expect, and don't give them details to the contrary.

This makes most of them quiet and sort of awkward, unless they've put in effort on their own part to work on it. If a Spartan cares enough to learn to socialize and banter smoothly with non-Spartans, that tells you something about their priorities and who they are. (And possibly that they got extra training for a specific purpose that requires it.)

Getting out of socialization: Spartans were raised in a highly structured environment, and I think most of them find comfort in routines, rules, and regular procedures that are done the same way. Following general everyday UNSC rules = not being bawled out or punished. Following some extra important serious rules = feeling like you're doing the best thing you can possibly do to prevent disasters from happening. How much that has broken down for someone vs how much they still hang onto it is gonna be real individual. Some of them really will not like being pulled out of doing things the way they "should" be done.

Amongst themselves, Spartans communicate a lot by body language and hand signals. (S-IIs and S-IIIs use similar but slightly different hand signals because Kurt was a II and they innovated on what they picked up from him. I'd also say it's very likely that each class had some variations unique to them, like a dialect.) They're also so used to being in armor that they do a lot with just flashing different status light colors on their HUD, which is neat (and also on that page.)

As a footnote re: sex and romance, it's a thorny fandom question that is up to you to answer for how you prefer to read things, but it's fair play to say that most Spartan-IIs are probably at least mostly asexual due to their augmentations. S-IIIs have no major lore implying either way about it, though later depictions of the Gammas have seemed to indicate they're not particularly interested either. It's up to you how you want to go.

REACTIVENESS

The other thing about Spartans is they are trained to react immediately in a crisis and have had that tendency reinforced by horrible traumatic experiences. I don't like throwing around real world serious words for fictional character things, but I think PTSD is fair for most Spartans. Do real research if you want to incorporate that, I don't know the most about it and won't pretend whatever I'm doing is an actual portrayal. But I do think a lot about reactiveness.

The problem with being constantly ready to react to everything like it's a life-or-death situation is... most things are not life-or-death situations. It's hard on a person, and it makes you blow some things out of proportion in a way that can become a serious problem. (For example: A Spartan that feels safer when following specific routines and procedures getting way more frustrated than is really justified by someone breaking from protocol in a harmless but definite way.)

Spartans are really good at controlling anger and fear and probably will not go all the way off the handle, but they still tend to go for immediate responses to things that startle or scare them. Make a loud sound in a room full of Spartans, expect hands on weapons and some pointed barrels. They are always always always ready to go. It is incredibly difficult for them to relax.

Most Spartans probably remember a point (or multiple points) somewhere in their lives where their guard was down, and then everything exploded under them and maybe somebody died.

LOYALTY AND SACRIFICE

This is a lot more personal and individual. The majority of Spartans are very loyal to the UNSC, it's been trained into them from childhood. The degree to which a Spartan may possibly have become embittered about it is going to be super dependent on who they are and what has happened to them.

I think a lot of them probably tend to fall back on their mission and sense of purpose (especially re: the defense of humanity) for a bare kind of comfort when miserable (which they have reason to be often.) They have sacrificed so much of themselves, but it was worth it, right? They helped save humanity from the Covenant, right? They're helping save humanity from new problems, right?

Spartans were all taught that their cause is worth their lives, and they're willing to die for it. They have known people they loved and grew up with who did die for it, and this fits pretty naturally into coping with those losses.

If the cause isn't paramount and loyalty to the UNSC isn't worth dying for.... what does that make everything they've done, and everything they've lost? What does that make the deaths of their fellow Spartans?

(Survivor's guilt is gonna be big for all of them, but especially S-IIIs. 2/3 Spartan-III companies died in almost their entirety in one go. The surviving S-IIs had remarkably few losses until... Reach....... )

I've talked/thought about sacrifice a lot with the S-IIs, especially John because I'm always in hell writing about John and people have poked my askblog about it. If a Spartan could go back in time and change how their life went and prevent them from becoming a Spartan, would they?

Being a Spartan and that sense of purpose is so core to them that I really think most of them would not. This is their world. This is their lives. This is such a huge part of who they are that they don't know who they'd be otherwise.

I don't care for Mortal Dictata much (that's a whole different post), but a huge part of the plot of that book is that Kilo Five's S-II (Naomi) is reunited with her father as an adult and it's a very uncomfortable process because... she's not the little girl he lost, anymore.

......

I think that's everything I have on this.

I am a perpetual wellspring of information on this topic tho so you guys let me know if you have more things you wanna talk about re: this. :V

#asks #spartan-ii #spartan-iii #halo lore #speculation #advice for ocs i guess

[pokemenlovingmen]

Hello! I just read the thing I requested and I LOVE IT!!! While reading, I was thinking about how tall S/O compared to Ingo would be. I live for tall s/o fr and dw! I love it when the story is long, it just gets me motivated to read more! so while I still have the chance, can I request tall, extremely calm, and works at the subway masc s/o with Ingo and Emmet? (it can be poly, Not blank shipping ofc) - 🚆Anon

man y’all REALLY want to have a

relationship huh?

I mean… me too though.

I love it, let’s do it!! I just think these pokeguys have had plenty of time to tower over people… if no one is cooking up big spoon reader content, then I’ll do it myself!

Thank you very much for your request, I love the train men haha. And I’m also very glad you enjoyed my previous piece I made for you!! You’re so kind. I’m still very much feeling my way around, trying to figure out what I want from this blog, and y’all have been so sweet. It’s why I feel bad not writing as frequently as I could! I love you guys, my fellow gay yearners out there, y’all are my brothers lmao. I hope you enjoy this one as much as you did the last! (And maybe one day I’ll figure out not just how long I want my actual posts to be, but these intros as well. Too much free space for me to ramble in lmfaooo.) Since you said S/O, I’m going to write this as an established relationship! Also the submas are written as autistic because I’m autistic and I make the rules. Thouuuugh this did end up a little too focused on the twins’ autism coded behavior and I apologize for that. I got a little too into it. But at the same time you can pry autistic submas out of my cold, dead autistic hands I refuse to write them as anything but

The Pillar of Calm — Ingo and Emmet (separately!) with tall, calm depot agent S/O

Emmet

⚪️ — Well, no matter what, the most important thing you need to know about him is he loves you verrrrry much!

⚪️ — You two met when you transferred to work at Gear Station after your first long-running job at the Magnet Train station in Johto. Definitely a bit of a culture shock, considering battles are a BIG no-no on those trains, but you figured things out pretty quick. One of the most important parts of adjusting to your new job was, of course, meeting the subway masters to get the proper rundown on how things worked around here, and that’s where it started.

⚪️ — Emmet is a ball of hard-to-contain energy that he constantly needs to express via stimming or just moving around, and even if words aren’t his strong suit, he has a woeful amount of things he wants to say. You being the strong silent type who can somehow keep a level head in any situation and seldom expresses anything, it seems like your personalities would clash horrifically. But when breaks were called around Gear Station, you were one of the first faces Emmet saw as he hopped off the Super Double Line, and you being your grounded self was honestly reassuring to be greeted with after all the stimulation the constant battling is. The more you hung out, the more it became apparent Emmet could just find some calm and steady his tremendous energy with you there to ground him. It ended up becoming a bit of a behind-your-back joke around Gear Station as other depot agents took bets on when one of you would finally stop dragging your feet and ask about being more than friends.

⚪️ — But that was a long time ago. This is the now!

⚪️ — In the same fashion that brought you two together in the first place, you’re one of the first depot agents Emmet sees when he hops off the train for breaks or for closing, and he’ll come bouncing up to you when he sees you. Right away you lock arms—Emmet loves all the excitement of his job, without a doubt, but sometimes he can just overload without even realizing it’s happening. But you’re so stable and your arms are so strong, kind of locking himself to you brings him back down to earth from all the battling adrenaline.

⚪️ — It’s funny watching you two walk hand-in-hand, or with locked arms. You have a very stiff and simple stride and as calm as you are, there are no points of tension or parts of your body that just need to move sometimes. Meanwhile Emmet takes those big, toy soldier-like steps with perfectly straight legs and swings his arms so much, so walking together you’re perfectly still save for whatever arm he’s swinging around with his motions. You’re never bothered, though. It’s all very cute and you don’t mind your arm getting a little sore from Emmet just being Emmet. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⚪️ — It’s okay that he’s not great with his words or that he can’t script when apart from Ingo if he’s around you. He can talk as much as he wants with no expectations of making sense or proper sentence structure or correct tone. You’re so laid back, you don’t mind any of it. You feel pretty special for being one of the only people on earth who can make Emmet comfortable enough to stray from his usual script and just talk and talk.

⚪️ — Carry him!! If you’re strong enough, that is. When you two get home from a long day of work, you’ll often find your arms full of giggling Emmet. He actually really likes to be held, and not many people are as significantly taller than him as necessary to do that. (Part of the reason why he’s attracted to guys, to be honest. Hold him with those big strong arms!)

⚪️ — Did I mention your calmness is really grounding? Because it is. He knows there’s no judgement with you and you aren’t a struggle to read when you take so much in stride. It’s so rare and strange to say, but Emmet feels like he can make mistakes around you. And have those mistakes not be a bad thing, I mean. He’s always heard of mistakes being learning tools, but they’ve always felt so punishing to him, he never knew why anyone would want to learn through messing up. At least, not until he met you and he realized he could flub his words and commit any social faux pas when he interacts with you, because he knows you won’t judge. You’re safe. When he’s with you, the world isn’t so harsh and judgmental, it doesn’t pick him apart so severely for being “weird” and “different”. It’s so liberating, to feel so safe in making mistakes and knowing you’ll still love him at the end of the day.

⚪️ — And for your part, you struggle feeling strong feelings, especially excitement. So when good things happen, Emmet feels the excitement for the both of you, and his energy definitely seeps over to you! With him around, feelings don’t blend together and fade into each other so easily. He never expects you to change, he loves your calmness, and it only brings him even more delight when you do get excited about something, because that something really must be amazing, then!! It’s just so comforting to have Emmet there and watch him emote for the both of you.

⚪️ — Beyond the actual therapeutic, helpful little things about this behavior, it’s also just adorable. You make that well known, because Emmet likes that you think he’s adorable. Him? Really? Even if his smile is creepy and never goes away, or he’s always tense and shaking around, or his eyes seem too blank or glassy, you think he’s cute? He’s rather insecure about his appearance, actually—he’s been called creepy and weird many times before, mostly regarding his smile and his erratic movements, so hearing you like all that about him is just so, so validating!

⚪️ — You better be a good big spoon because Emmet loves snuggling up to you and being in your arms. If you’re having a bad day, though, your height difference won’t stop him from holding you! He’s lived with Ingo his whole life after all, he’s gotten pretty good at reading fairly minimal indicators of mood since he’s used to going off so little so he always knows how you’re feeling.

⚪️ — Expect a lot of quick shows of physical affection. He’ll crush you in a side-hug for exactly two seconds before running off, he’ll bounce onto his toes to kiss you on the cheek, he’ll nuzzle his head into your shoulder before it‘s about time to get off the couch and head for work, he just likes physical affection and squeezes in it whenever possible. He’s just always very busy, and that applies to just his thought process and usual way of conducting himself, too, but you never complain about his style of affection.

⚪️ — Of course you swap train stories and facts! He’s very fascinated hearing about the Magnet Train, Unova really hasn’t got around to utilizing high-speed railways yet. And if you have any questions about the Battle Subway, he’s happy to answer!

⚪️ — Emmet’s a professional, of course, so he’s not going to be all over you at work, but he doesn’t hide your relationship either. If you’re working his line and he gets off the train in time to spot you, he’ll run over and give you a quick peck before heading off to wherever he’s headed.

⚪️ — Since words aren’t his forte, he uses all these quick shows of affection as his “I love you”s. So Emmet has likely seldom or even never said a verbal “I love you” to you, but that’s okay, because you know that’s what every one of his kisses and hugs mean.

⚪️ — If he’s ever getting overstimulated or just plain riled, you give his hand a comforting squeeze that makes everything slow down a bit.

⚪️ — Ingo loves you, by the way (in a platonic sense). He’s delighted to see someone make his brother so happy, and to see Emmet has found someone he doesn’t have to mask with that’s not just him or Elesa. He would do the classic family move and warn you that you better treat Emmet right, but Ingo doesn’t find that warning necessary. He’s seen you working even before you and Emmet got together and knows you’re not at all fickle about your commitments. He’s not worried.

⚪️ — At the end of a long work day, you can expect to find you and Emmet tangled up in each other’s lanky arms and legs, surrounded by all your Pokemon both on and off the bed. And there Emmet will talk and talk, and probably make no sense while he does it, but that’s alright and he’s just happy to spill his thoughts without worrying about how he structures them. He’ll often go until he’s yawning, at which point you shush your beloved conductor and encourage him to maybe go to sleep.

⚪️ — Before burying his face into your chest or stomach, he’ll mumble out a sleepy “well, next stop: dreamland… aaaall aboooard…!” just because he knows it makes you laugh. You’re so stoic, but he absolutely can make you laugh with ease.

⚪️ — He loves that laugh of yours, because hearing it reminds him how free and happy you two are to express yourselves in the safety of one another’s company.

⚪️ — And when you both wake up in the morning and start getting ready for work all over again, Emmet always manages to find some words with so much less effort than it usually takes him as he barges into the bathroom to help you straighten your tie.

“I am Emmet. And you look verrrrry handsome today.”

Ingo

⚫️ — Everything is Emmet’s fault here. I mean… look, he knows that despite what people think, his brother can feel joy and actually feels it quite often, but it can be hard for Ingo to keep up with how upbeat Emmet is and his brother recognizes that as loud as Ingo can get, Ingo is really more built for the quiet and the calm.

⚫️ — (Most of the time. He definitely has his moments, but unlike Emmet he doesn’t have that surplus of energy to always be shaking out. Ingo is just a bit naturally more reserved. He is certainly more verbose than Emmet, but is actually less of a fan of being social than him.)

⚫️ — So knowing he was the personality Ingo spent the most time around, Emmet really got to thinking his brother needed someone who matched his energy levels better. In general, he thinks Ingo needs someone! It makes him verrrry sad, but he knows challengers approach him much more often than Ingo solely because his outward demeanor is more approachable to people. And by god, Emmet is determined to get more people as loud and proud members of the Ingo fan club.

⚫️ — Unceremoniously shoving his poor brother into you, a complete stranger who Emmet deemed to match Ingo’s “vibes”—at their workplace no less!—was probably not the ideal way to go about it, but you guys are dating now so it really is Emmet’s last laugh this time.

⚫️ — Ingo is very quiet and slow with his affection—at least, when he wants to be. There’s a time for words, definitely, but he honestly spins his wheels endlessly when he does talk and considering he has to take charge in that department for both his and Emmet’s sake, he likes being able to wind down with you.

⚫️ — (Definitely not me gay yearning looking up all different types of cuddles but) He likes to sleep in the sweetheart’s cradle position with you. Being nestled in your arms is very comforting for him, and when he can’t sleep, being so close let’s himself get lost in… well, you. He’ll trace his fingers across your skin, just focusing on the texture, listen to your heartbeat as he lays his head on your chest, or bury his head in your side and try and figure out what that body wash you used is supposed to smell like. He can be a restless sleeper, as his mind’s always buzzing every which way, but he always drifts back off eventually when he’s with you.

⚫️ — He does get a little embarrassed about how clingy he can get and how much he wants to be held, though, but you’re just there to love him even if he gets a little flustered about it.

⚫️ — Not huge on PDA because of his self conscious-ness, and NONE at all if you’re at work. This is a professional environment, after all! Of course, you’re so calm and laid back, that’s not an issue for you. Hey, whatever he wants.

⚫️ — Ingo loves his brother, he loves him more than life itself, but despite being identical twins they don’t see eye-to-eye on everything—Emmet’s excitability and energy being something Ingo doesn’t really have. He can get into those moods and does like excitement from time to time, but as much as he adores his job, the constant excitement can be a little much and he can rely on you for some quiet and calm in his life. He doesn’t need to maximize his energy and put on a show to be enough for you.

⚫️ — You’re so quiet, sometimes he worries his lack of volume control upsets you. He’s always so loud, and you’re… not. But you’re okay with him that way, you tell him you understand that’s a hard thing for him to control and the boisterous voice is something you love, anyway. It’s so uniquely him, just something you can hear and smile to yourself about as you think “yep, that’s Ingo”.

⚫️ — Also a bit nervous about publicly being in a relationship, but hey, you’re willing to take it at whatever pace he’s most comfortable with!

⚫️ — You use your height to your advantage, doing stuff that flusters him often—because you know for all his huffing about it, he loves the attention. You swipe his hat sometimes at home and tousle his hair, only to plop it back down all the way over his eyes. You put your arms around his waist when he’s not looking and lift him up, just a little bit—that move is especially useful when Ingo is overworking himself, because he’s literally powerless in that situation and will just hang there, defeated while you carry him somewhere else like you’re a child with an oversized teddy bear.

⚫️ — You and Emmet are some of the only people who can get a real smile out of him. He absolutely still enjoys himself and feels a good amount of joy daily, he just seldom smiles to express it. But you and Emmet are both capable of pushing him into such a good mood, the corners of his mouth twitch up a little bit into his unique half-smile. (Ingo is very self conscious about how unnatural it looks, but you think he’s adorable and it kills him a little every time when you compliment his smile in spite of him growing up hating it. So with how good of a mood he already has to be in in order to get that tiny smile in the first place, that mood only soars higher once you start complimenting said smile. Very pleasant situation he can get himself stuck in.)

⚫️ — Will happily invite you to join him for safety checks on his lines, and even though he’s very much a “no romantic interactions at work” kind of guy, he’s guaranteed to happily infodump about the trains if it’s just the two of you. He’s thankful you’re such a good listener.

⚫️ — One of his favorite shows of affection to you is kissing the back of your hand, especially to say goodbye whenever you need to part ways—and no, he definitely doesn’t go after your hand because he can’t reach your face.

⚫️ — I feel like both he and Emmet need regular reminders to take care of themselves, but Ingo is definitely the more stubborn one in that department, at least when it comes to the business/paperwork side of running the Battle Subway. Emmet throws every ounce of his energy into the battles he loves so much and is so tired by the end of the day, Ingo doesn’t want to make him do it! But in convincing him to step away from work, he’ll at least begrudgingly listen to you.

⚫️ — The only time Ingo’s voice is at its true quietest is at night, when you two are laying next to each other in bed. Your fingers running through his hair, his hand laced with yours, you’re used to him half-consciously mumbling about his feelings when he’s close to falling to sleep, because Ingo’s a sentimental dork and the sleepier he gets, the harder it is for him to hold back rambling like an idiot. He can’t help it! He compensates for his lack of physical emoting by always outright stating what he’s feeling and thinking—at least, most of the time—and though he’s never dishonest about how strong his feelings for you are, a tired Ingo is the sappiest Ingo.

“Mmh… I love you… so much…”

“I love you too, Ingo.”

“I’m so… lucky to have a man like you in my life…”

“You’re sweet.”

“I just love you so much…! With all of my heart…”

“I do too, Ingo. But you should go to sleep now, really.”

#pokemon x reader #ingo x reader #emmet x reader #pokemon male reader #emmet x male reader #ingo x male reader #blankshippers dni I’ll actually bite you and not let go <3 #🚆

[bonesandthebees]

hello bee!! Had a tiiiiiny, baby-size depressive episode + panic attack over the weekend. But GREAT news, I created an infinity cube out of Lego while in the trenches. Autism win.

I did have to upgrade my little stim-toy carrying case, since. If you remember me, I’m the anon who mentioned ordering a pinned moth and set of magnet stims when the whole Wilbur situation started overflowing. So my Altoids tin of fidgets got too small after I suddenly had two new ones within a few days, lol. Found a good zipper-container for them. Little spinny-ring, Lego infinity cube, and a set of stick magnets, nice and portable now.

My moth is still on the way :) I’m excited for him to come home.

I started writing on a few of my wips again. It’s been slow going, especially with university. But it’s nice going back to the stories I’ve been working on. I still have to build my stamina up again, I am finding it difficult to sit and write for hours at a time, utilizing his character for as long as I used to. But I’m getting better :)

Just have to give it time, work on it slowly. And it still IS fun. The character is different than he is, and while it’s a bit rattling, it’s just part of the process.

It’s not really an ask. Just an update. But I do feel better than I did a a few weeks ago :) I have some tea. My fidgets. A moth on the way. A haircut appointment in a few days. Found a couple new video-essay channels to watch.

Remember to take care of yourself, too, Bee <3 thank you for looking after all of us and our thoughts. So excited to see more of your writing. I think I’ve gone back and reread this year’s Halloween-special fic six times or so. It’s been a big inspiration for a horror-y SBI writing project of my own :) the suspenseful writing is just so fun.

I'm gonna be so honest I read the phrase "I created an infinity cube out of Lego autism win" and laughed so hard. I love that for you so much /gen

hooray for having so many stim toys you need a bigger container for them!! sounds like you have a great collection going. very excited for you to get your moth!!

yes, just give it time. it's great that you've already started trying to work on your wips again, but don't feel like you have to rush it. while I mostly feel settled about things, I'm still waiting to go back to trying to write any of my wips. take it slow and just be mindful of how you're feeling and all that.

sounds like you have a lot of nice little things going for you right now and I'm so happy about that :)

I'm doing my best to take care of myself. got myself to write some qsmp stuff today so hoping to start posting this wip soon.

also picture me as one of those crying cat emojis rn because I'm so happy you reread that halloween fic. it's literally one of my favorite things I've written and I hold it so near and dear to my heart I'm so glad you enjoyed it <33

#ask #anon

[spottedenchants]

Hey chanse, hope this isn't too weird but I just wanted to thank you for the touching sentiments series. Fandom is really good for finding fic with aspec perspectives and I've noticed essek/sg fic has a lot of it even compared to that. But I've never read anything like ts and it means a lot to me. I've been thinking lately about relationship dynamics as performances, and if you use that metaphor, a QPR is a performance of some really obscure play that I keep hearing about and it sounds SO good but i cant imagine how it would actually look, much less see myself as an actor in a production. And especially with your most recent two fics-- there is such intimacy between both Essek and Jester and essek and Caleb in these different ways, and at the same time, even when essek and Caleb straight up have sex, Essek is still at the same place on the ace/aro spectrum the whole time and it's just. Really nice to see, if that makes sense. I've read aromantic/asexual/QPR stories where sex and romance are just not on the table at all, and while those are great it's really comforting to see a story that blurs the lines even deeper than that. Not to get too serious about it, but it's so hard realizing you're gonna spend a lot of your life trying to write your own relationship blueprints, and I really can't emphasize enough what a comfort it is to know that someone else has thought about it enough to be able to write it out the way you have, and I'm really really grateful for it.

Hi hi! If a ‘thank you’ is weird, then I give you an equally weird ‘thank you for reading’ right back :3

(got rambly so the rest is under the cut xD)

I've definitely found fandom to be an excellent place to engage with aspec stories and feel very lucky to have found a corner where they feel not only accepted, but celebrated in good faith, and I am touched (ha :D) that Touching Sentiments has found a unique place in your mind and heart! 💜

As far as I’ve personally read (though tbf I have not read nearly as much published aspec fiction as I would like), I definitely get what you mean about the yes/no dichotomies of sex and romance that often show up in stories with aspec characters. ‘No’ is a lived truth for a lot more people than pop culture tends to imply, aspec or not, and I heartily agree that it’s very cool to see in print and on screen that ‘no, never’ is an option in the first place. :D It also has the benefit of being a very convenient shorthand to express a character’s orientation in a self-contained story that isn’t About their orientation, but also I get what you mean about wanting to see the lines blurred with ‘maybe’ more often. (Though that can get tangled in the whole ‘aces/aros can still conform to amatonormative standards’ side of things, which I really don’t have a solution for other than continuing to write and engage with aspec stuff, cause it’s hard to have a spectrum with only two points and getting multiple perspectives is the only way I really know how to build it out).

That’s definitely one of the reasons why I’ve found fanfic to be such a cool medium to write in- there’s soooo much room to really dig into nitty gritty details that a fixed story might not have the same space for! What is romance, what is sex, what is care, what is intimacy, what is love? *cue the music* We’re throwing out the dictionary here and writing our own so that everyone’s on the same page. >:3

I don’t have the bulk of these things posted yet, but TS!Essek’s intimacy with each of the Nein is very important to me and all of it is for sure flavored by his sexuality, and I am Thrilled that you've found him to be consistent!! I don't necessarily think TS goes deeper than other explorations in which the characters in question discuss or display their feelings around sex and romance, especially in the the fanfic scene, I’ve just published quite a lot of it and am reaping the benefits of breadth; no single TS fic needs to be everything or display every facet of him, it just needs to be whatever sliver it is. :3 (also I Do have a few cr fic recs (mostly sg) off the top of my head that dig into those lines of intimate conversation if you are interested :D)

As for relationships as performances! That is a lovely metaphor and I entirely understand what you mean, same hat and everything xD In some ways, I consider TS to be a very informal study log/synthesis paper on exactly that, and the script has just gotten more nuanced as I go xD That said, if you or anyone else is interested in the sorts of things I’ve researched to build the flavor of TS!Essek’s relationships with the Nein, I recommend searching up ‘relationship anarchy’ and ‘queerplatonic relationships’ specifically for further means of describing interpersonal relationships outside of the framework of amatonormativity, and then ‘loveless aromantic’ and ‘lovequeer’ for conversations about varying definitions of love and its applications both as a term and a concept.

I’ve also found pre-written/referenceable materials like Relationship Anarchy Smorgasbords and Yes No Maybe lists to be very helpful with relationship blueprints, too. The latter are often about the expression of sexuality as a whole, and they involve individualized thresholds of things ranging from states of dress to preferred anatomical terms to hygiene to safety to what is/isn’t deemed sexual, and other such points of emotional and physical intimacy as well. (Also I recommend Scarleteen just in general. very useful very informative very comprehensive groundwork)

I am sososo heartened to know you’ve found so much comfort in TS 🥺 It’s been almost three years since I started writing, period, and I am very glad my writing has been received with such grace and patience. Thank you for sharing your enthusiasm with me! I hope you continue to find stories that speak to you, and am grateful you've allowed mine to be a part 💜

#words!!! #words words yay #i could talk for a While about the intricacies of ts!essek's sexuality as i've carved it out so far #almost did here but it would have been Quite a digression xD #orientation and expression and identity and and and #people are all so intricate and unique #it's fascinating #he is a vessel of investigation and discovery #ALSO if you or anyone has recs for aspec fiction please gimme i wanna read them #talesofsymphoniac #chanswers

[jerzwriter]

"I'll pour...now tell me more..."

Thanks for the ask @mydemonsdrivealimo! I love these two entirely too much, so this was so much fun to write! Just what I needed!

Book: Open Heart (Book 1 Timeline) Characters: Bryce Lahela, Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Words: 920 Rating: Teen Warnings: None. Sexual activity is implied but not at all explicit. Summary: Casey had an amazing night, and on this morning after, her best friend Bryce wants ALL the details. But does he have anything to share, as well? A/N: This is part of my Tobias x Casey world, but this is before Tobias came into her life. Jensen Valentine is mentioned briefly, he belongs to @mydemonsdrivealimo. Participating in @choicesjanuary2024 - Day 5 - Smile, Secret

A loud crash followed by a string of heartfelt apologies interrupted the serene atmosphere the café went to great lengths to provide. Like every other patron, Bryce’s head spun toward the entrance; unlike everyone else, he couldn't help but laugh. With a shake of his head and a deep sigh, he proceeded to pour a glass of wine for his companion... a very large glass of wine.

“Casey, Casey, Casey,” he smiled.

She always liked to make a grand entrance. Typically, she preferred it to be the result of a well-planned outfit, a spectacular hair day, or a moment of exemplary wit, and, in fairness, she had plenty of those. But there were just as many like this, provided courtesy of a trip, a stumble, or an outright fall; usually, she didn’t involve an innocent server in the display, but she got her grand entrance, nevertheless.

She approached the table, her face red with embarrassment, and Bryce hadn’t decided if he would make things better or worse for her just yet. But as she sat before him, leaning on her hands to shield herself, he decided to show her mercy. Besides, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the reason for today’s brunch off his mind... he needed the scoop on whatever took place last night.

“I’m mortified!” She muttered. “This is our favorite spot, and now, we can never come here again!”

“Case,” he said, handing her a massive glass of pink Moscato. “We’ve made complete asses out of ourselves in better places than this, and we still return... they can’t rid themselves of us that easily.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the wine or Bryce’s beguiling smile, but she was quickly put at ease.

“Now... on to more important business... tell me what happened last night. Your text had so many misspellings, emojis, and exclamation points that I could hardly contain myself. I almost showed up at your door!”

Casey’s eyebrows shot to her forehead. “Bryce? Seriously, you were down the hall until two in the morning. You were at my door!”

“I meant your bedroom door, duh! Besides, I heard you made a beeline past the living room and went directly there in your post-coital glow.”

“Post-coital glow?” she rebuffed. “Who said coitus was involved.”

He choked on his wine, simultaneously amused and insulted by her assertation. “Casey. Please. Copious amounts of misspellings, emojis, and exclamation points! What do you take me for, a fool?” Shaking his head, he made a point of showing his discontent. “You insult me.”

“OK,” she giggled. “There may have been coitus involved. Quality coitus. Exemplary coitus! Coitus that people should really write books about.”

“Now we’re talking,” he grinned. “Details... details, dear,” he said topping off her glass, “and leave nothing out.”

For the next twenty minutes, Bryce sat rapt in attention as Casey waxed poetic about her exploits from the night before. Both were lost in their own little world, oblivious to the stares and whispers coming their way.

“REALLY!” He gasped. “That does sound great! I never thought of using a blindfold that way.” “Oh my God, no! I mean, yes, but no!” “Wait... wait... wait...” he said, grabbing his phone. “Can you repeat that? I’m writing that one down... I have to try that one myself.”

When she was finally done and his curiosity was fully satiated, they sat back and basked in a shared post-coital discussion glow.

“And that was pretty much everything,” Casey announced proudly, stuffing a cheese puff into her mouth as Bryce raised his glass.

“That was a whole lot of everything... impressive everything... but you left one thing out?”

“Oh?” she asked, perplexed. “How would you know if I left something out?”

“Who was he?”

“You assume it was a he,” Casey mocked.

“Don’t be coy. I’m sorry if I overstepped, but based on some of your descriptions, and your pronoun usage, I think my statement is valid. Now... spill.”

Casey bit her lower lip, clearly battling if she should divulge her lover’s identity to her friend. She was confident he wouldn’t judge her, but pretty sure he wouldn't approve. In the end, her apprehension won out.

“I... I think I’m going to hold off on telling you who it was. Just for now... I want to see where this goes.”

Bryce grasped his chest. “REALLY Casey? You wound me! Am I not your best friend in Boston?”

“Well, there's you and Sienna, if we’re being honest...”

“Who are you more apt to share your best sex stories with?”

“Point taken,” Casey smiled. “But still... let me see if there is a round two... then, maybe I’ll share their identity.”

He pushed away from the table in mock horror, but his next statement was quite sincere.

“And here I thought we shared everything. Everything. I’m a little hurt! I share everything with you.”

“Oh really?” She asked with a raised brow. “Want to tell me why you were at my apartment at two a.m.? Or perhaps why I didn’t see you when I passed the living room in my post-coital bliss...I didn’t see Jensen either, come to think of it... care to elaborate, my dear, dear bestie?”

Bryce sat up straight and cleared his throat. Now, he was the one turning the shade of their wine. “You know, I would really like to see the dessert menu, wouldn’t you?”

“Dessert,” she teased. “Funny, that’s the first thing that came to your mind when I mention Jensen.”

“You know I love you, Casey,” he smiled, desperate to change the subject.

“And I love you, too.  Now, are we going to split a crème brule?”

“I thought you’d never ask!”

#choices fanfic #open heart #open heart choices #bryce lahela #bryce lahela & mc #choices stories you play #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #casey mactavish #tobias x casey world #pre-tobias

[altschmerzes]

Hey! im ace and aro and was wondering if you could talk about what being engaged and getting married means and looks like to you as an aro person? I feel like so few people talk about it that i have no real frame of reference. it’s really cool that you’re happy and living authentically doing all these things and i guess yeah i just wanted to hear more about that if you felt like sharing! have a great day <3

yeah!!! i'm happy to talk abt that!! it's definitely nothing i've seen any kind of like..... broader awareness of, or people talking about, and i probably would've been like. more optimistic about my future if it had been something i'd seen, i think. this got a little long so i'm throwing it under a cut but here it is!! a bit of an explanation of like. How My Engagement/Marriage Works And How That Came To Be. (signed off on by my fiance, for the record - i didn't want to write out an answer to this without checking with them, but they're totally fine with it!)

i think it's probably wildly confusing to some people to see me post and talk abt being aro A Lot (it's one of the most prominent aspects of my online personality i think sdlfjs) including being like. incredibly romance repulsed, and then mention being engaged or having a fiance or referencing 'my wife' (though we're not married yet it is one of my Favourite jokes to make because 1. i think it's very funny, and 2. i just like saying it). people contain multitudes etc etc but i do wonder if people are confused by that sldfjs. my engagement is like... honestly everything i'd ever have hoped for if i'd asked myself at any point in the years since i started identifying as aromantic what my ideal life would include.

i've always had a hard time being alone and i wanted the intimacy and mutual support and just. ability to Do Life with someone that a relationship involved, while also being, as i've said, intensely romance repulsed and not really open to sex either. really just sort of figured that wasn't going to happen for me. the odds of not only meeting an aroace person (the only sort of person i thought might have an interest in the same sort of relationship i wanted and was comfortable with) irl never mind being compatible with them personally and in our priorities just seemed incredibly slim. which like... made me sad sometimes. i'd always sort of daydreamed about getting married which is wild for someone who is as romance repulsed as i am, which i know i keep saying but it really is an incredibly intense feeling for me (i tried dating once in high school and had several panic attacks before breaking it off after our third extremely mild fourteen/fifteen year old date, and often feel physically ill trying to read about fictional romance/watch it on tv). but y'know. sometimes we just don't get what we want in life, and i was fine with the idea of having my friends and my synagogue community and like. hoping my friends wouldn't all leave me behind alone as they all got into relationships.

what ended up happening is obviously not that. i'm really truly unbelievably thrilled every day to wake up and remember what i've got to look forward to every day. my engagement is entirely platonic, and it's exactly what both of us want and are just. beyond happy with and excited for. my fiance is a lesbian, actually, and has been incredibly good and patient with reassuring me that the relationship we have, exactly as it is, is what they want too, that they don't feel like i'm depriving them of anything. we love each other very much, and we're building the life together that we want, in exactly the way that we want.

and that's how it happened, really. we talked about what we wanted. i got engaged at the end of what i've referred to as a 'several hour long conversation' which is the truth sdlkfs. a close friend and i both had sort of 'evaluating the next couple years of our lives and how we wanted pivotal parts of our futures to go' moments about the same time, and it came up i think mostly as a half-serious suggestion that we could get married. for logistical reasons, it made sense for us. and then we started talking about what that might look like - what we wanted, from our lives and our futures, and our hypothetical marriage. and the more we talked about it, the more serious it got, the more real it got, and the more we both i think realized we wanted the same thing. the same life, the same way, together.

we talked about a whole lot in that first couple of days. one of the very first things we talked about actually was kids - did we want them? what was important to us about having and raising children (names, religion, etc)? then it was stuff like did we have strong feelings about where we lived. did we want our own rooms in our home, did we want to wear rings (i love my engagement ring. it makes me smile every time i notice it on my hand), what did we want to tell our friends. we had conversations about whether and how we wanted a wedding. what sort of physical intimacy we were comfortable with, what sort we might want (really glad we did that, and that we were honest and open about that - nothing better, it turns out, than Cuddling Your Wife). what sort of affection we were comfortable with around other people.

our relationship, our life, is what we want it to be. exactly what we want it to be. what makes us happy. we've built it from a vast and beautiful array of choices and options, adding the things we want and leaving the things we don't. it's an approach i would highly recommend to everyone, honestly - talking about what you want out of your relationship, what you want to do and how you want to be with someone rather than just picking which of a short list of proscribed 'types of relationship' you want to have. it leaves a lot more room for nuance and what will actually make you happy than much less contextually nuanced things like assuming your definition of 'dating' will match the other person's, or that the kind of relationship you want just isn't possible. setting up that kind of foundation in communication and honesty and being clear about our expectations and needs has fostered a relationship where i feel respected and valued and heard - and i'm reasonably certain (and i hope!) that they feel the same.

we travelled to my birthplace so they could be introduced to my family and my childhood best friend. it's always both surprising and amusing to me every time someone assumes i'm gay (gender is complicated but we both tend to read as women) - this happened a lot there, and as i've told my extended family and other more casual friends about my engagement. this doesn't bother me at all (i'm not out to almost anyone irl as aromantic, and it's a reasonable conclusion to reach given what information they have) but it's extremely funny when i also get to find out which of my family members/people i knew in middle school always sort of wondered if i was gay but never asked sldkjs. turns out the answer is 'a lot'.

re: assumptions, for the most part, we don't bother explaining the nature of our relationship to people. this is also something we talked about! we discussed how much we wanted to clarify or contextualize, and decided that ultimately like... with the exception of people we're very close to, and in contexts like this (fairly anonymous post on ye olde internet with the ability to immediately block anyone who clowns on it), it's really nobody's business unless we decide it is and we're cool with just letting people assume whatever. that does lead to some like... i can't speak for them but it gets a little weird for me sometimes, i'm not gonna lie. it feels a little like getting misgendered, having people assume that i'm in a romantic relationship. i say that as a nonbinary person who's mostly just. chill about not being out about that irl. that's the best descriptor i have to help people understand what might be a hard thing to understand. but it doesn't bug me enough to want to put myself - or my fiance - through what correcting that assumption would involve. i mostly don't blame anyone for it - it's extremely reasonable to assume someone who is engaged is in a romantic relationship with the person they're engaged to - except for when friends who know i'm aromantic and somehow think this means that's... changed, somehow? or jump to assuming i'm in a romantic relationship before considering i might not be in one and still be engaged anyway. so it's kind of weird, and feels a little bad, but not enough to really do anything about it except hope the world changes a bit and stops making assumptions about other people's relationships at some point.

that's really the only downside, hand to gd. that and worrying that there might be consequences, legally, if the wrong person finds out we're married but Not Like That. everything else is honestly amazing. it's the best thing that's ever happened to me and i'm so unbelievably happy. i never thought i'd ever get to be this happy, or have a future this bright and warm and full of love to look forward to. having spent a lot of my life for various reasons thinking i just wouldn't have a future at all, it's like every day is a really incredible dream, except i'm never going to have to wake up.

the moral of the story i guess, if you've made it this far in this novel of an answer, anon, which i wouldn't bet on, because it's so much longer than i planned on it being (SORRY SDLKFJS i guess this is more than just a 'writing fic' problem for me now XD), is that your relationships are what you make them. assuming that what you want isn't possible, or that nobody could possibly want the same thing, is a great way to cheat yourself out of something wonderful. nobody has to have any kind of relationship, obviously, if they don't want one, but i think there are a lot of people - aromantic and not! though i do think this probably impacts aro people. more. - who could benefit from the idea that there are more options out there than just like... 1. romantic relationship constructed in a specific way and following a specific path, and 2. being alone.

#gav gab #aromantic #aro blogging #gav answers #a MUCH LONGER post about my engagement/marriage and life and whatnot than i thought i'd be writing but #here we are. #the truth is i'm just already the world's biggest wife guy and i want to talk about it all day long sldkfjs #'how are you a romance repulsed aromantic engaged' very happily as it turns out! #they also just went home after a visit yesterday (were long distance rn while we’re finishing school) and im a big baby about it #turns out sleeping alone after NOT doing that is. hard and weird.

[the-bangtext-is-rich]

Set Me Free Pt.2: on Mazes, Lies and Setting Yourself Free

Written by J.

Jimin’s Set Me Free Pt.2 is a powerhouse of a masterpiece. It is well anchored in BTS’ discography all while going beyond it and being fresh, unexpected and unique to Jimin and his journey. A perfect official solo debut for Jimin. ❤️

Read on if you’d like to explore these topics with me:

Set Me Free Pt.2 being anchored in BTS’s discography

Jimin’s journey from Lie to Set Me Free Pt.2

Anchored in BTS’s Discography

Set Me Free Pt.2 is anchored in BTS’ discography firstly because of the title itself: a nod to, as well as a continuation of sorts of Agust D’s Set Me Free. In Jimin’s words:

There isn’t a connection, and we weren’t trying to divide part one or part two. But since it turns out my song talks about freedom and moving forward, and SUGA’s song talks about some of the stories that come before, I thought it would be good to come after that.

Just like BTS’ Airplane Pt.2 is linked to J-Hope’s solo track Airplane, Jimin’s Set Me Free Pt.2 is linked to Agust D’s Set Me Free.

Next up comes the maze. Set Me Free Pt.2 uses the metaphor of the maze twice:

In the first verse:

I wandered into a maze

And in the second verse:

Still in a maze.

The metaphor of the maze is scattered across BTS’s discography:

RM in Louder than Bombs:

Every day a maze Wonder if this is my place

Suga in Answer: Love Myself:

Our lives are long, trust yourself when in a maze When winter passes, spring always comes

Without forgetting the song Love Maze itself! Jimin’s maze lyrics in this song:

Trapped in a maze of decisions Exhausted by all the different chaos We’ve wandered around, looking for the answer Lost in the maze, in the darkness

We love a motif that keeps popping up throughout various songs. It creates strength to the overarching storytelling of an artist and instantly brings meaning without having to go into detail each time. (See this post which talks a lot more eloquently about BTS motifs across their albums!) I love that Jimin ties his solo song into the BTS maze motif by bringing the maze in his own way. Not only does it create links between this solo song and BTS songs, but it also means army immediately knows the maze means difficulty. Indeed, the metaphor of the maze signifies darkness, being lost, going through hardships, etc. It can be nuanced in different ways depending on the context. (This powerful metaphor has not been lost on other k-pop artists. See for example Stray Kids’ Miroh (miroh, 미로, meaning “maze” in Korean) and Maze of Memories, TXT’s Maze in the Mirror, and (G)-IDLE’S Maze.) The maze in Set Me Free Pt.2 signifies hardships too. Jimin said the song wanted to express the ideas of “determination, passion, and overcoming”, and the maze represents the hardships that required determination and passion to overcome.

BTS explored darkness, hardships and overcoming them extensively throughout their discography, most recently and impressively through ON. This song has similar vibes to Set Me Free Pt.2, confirmed by Park Jimin himself: “I think you can feel the same vibe watching the “ON” performance as you will watching this performance. You’ll feel that feeling once again.” There is also clearly a shoutout to ON’s “Gotta go insane to stay sane” lyrics in Set Me Free Pt.2′s “Going insane to stay sane” lyrics. Parallels between ON/other BTS songs talking about overcoming hardships and Set Me Free Pt.2 are clear.

(Sidenote: see RM’s El País interview in which he talks about why overstraining/“working fucking hard” is such an important theme within k-pop/Korean culture.)

Darkness was also very much explored in Suga’s Interlude: Shadow. I can’t help but think that the voice distortions in Set Me Free Pt.2′s second verse may be a reference to Shadow’s third verse, which contain similar voice distortions.

The voice distortions in Set Me Free Pt. 2 come when Jimin is talking about hardships:

I got feel low Still in a maze But I got no time to break soul Just let me flow Hey fool, just get out of my way Shut up, fuck off I'm on my way

These are the darkest lyrics of the song imo. They show the darkness, dare I say the shadow, that Jimin has lived with and through. When Jimin addresses the “fool,” he could be speaking to his shadow, to his own self-doubts. The voice distortion accentuates the fact that he is talking about darkness, a dark side of himself.

Suga’s biggest voice distortions in Interlude: Shadow appear over these lyrics:

Yeah I'm you, you are me, now do you know Yeah you are me, I'm you, now you do know We are one body, sometimes we will clash You can never break me off, this you must know Yeah yeah can't break me off, whatever you do Yeah you'll be at ease if you admit it too Yeah succeed or fail, whichever way you flow Yeah you can't escape, wherever you go

This is also the darkest part of the song. Rather than talking to his shadow like Jimin, Suga is speaking from his shadow’s perspective. He is talking about how it’s impossible to escape his shadow always being part of him. Suga’s shadow is greed and ambition, whereas Jimin’s may be more akin to self-doubt, a self-doubt that has made him pretend to be someone else. This would explain why it would seem that while Suga is trying to accept living with his shadow alongside him, Jimin is working on setting himself free from his shadow.

I might be making parallels where no parallels need to be made. Playing with voices is common in the music industry in general, and very much in k-pop too. At the same time, both Set Me Free Pt.2 and Interlude: Shadow have both Pdogg and Ghstloop as songwriters and Ghstloop as a producer. And I think it’s interesting to think of discussions with one’s demons as being highlighted by voice distortions.

Lie, Set Me Free Pt.2 and Jimin

I cannot help but interpret Set Me Free Pt.2 as being linked to Lie. Musically, they both have a grand orchestral feel. Meaning-wise, they seem very linked as well.

Lie is all about the suffering that comes with having to live a lie. Here are the lyrics of the chorus, as a quick refresher:

Caught in a lie Find the me that was pure I can’t be free from this lie Give me back my smile Caught in a lie Pull me from this hell I can’t be free from this pain Save me, I am being punished

The lie in question is not specified and is left up to interpretation, which is amazing. Lots of people can find themselves in the lyrics in various ways.

At the same time, thinking about Jimin, the first thing that comes to my mind is this quote of his from this video when he talks about/to his younger self:

I think I wanted to appear like a strong man. Now... I don’t have to pretend. I can just be myself. Talk about myself without pretending anything. I realised that I was such an aspiring person and I realised how I’ve become better. I don’t look like I’m about to weep anymore. I don’t. That’s the difference as per my appearance goes. You were trying very hard. I was impressed and moved by you. I could feel how hard you were trying. I mean... Your eyes looked eager to show something. I felt somewhat sorry for you too. I was shocked a bit. Hurry up and be me soon. You will learn and realise so many things. Fighting.

The lie may indeed have been about him not being himself, him trying, pretending to be someone else, a “strong man”. This is something he has overcome, and Jimin affirms that he now feels free to be himself without having to pretend. With this in mind, let’s have a look at some of Set Me Free Pt.2′s lyrics:

Ah, yeah, ah, yeah I'm standing at the edge Not yet, not yet I won't look back Now yeah, now yeah Fly away, butterfly-y-y Finally free-e-e Look at me now (Me now) I won't hide anymore, even if it hurts Going insane to stay sane Raise your hands for the past me Now, set me free-e-e

Tears in my eyes at “Finally free”, “I won’t hide anymore” and “Raise your hands for the past me” (especially as in the MV Jimin is actually raising his hand while he sings this).

To me, one interpretation of the song is definitely about setting yourself free from the expectations you have bound yourself to (bearing in mind that these expectations are very often hammered into you by society). Setting yourself free from pretending to be someone else, from hiding yourself, from being blocked in your own prison, your own lie. Jimin has very much done this, as he clearly feels a lot more comfortable with allowing himself to be who he wants to be compared to the first years after debut. (I highly recommend reading these two excellent posts that go into great detail about this about how Jimin is the personification of the whole Love Yourself concept: “Jimin and his Journey with Gender Presentation” and “Jimin and his Journey with Food and Body Image”.)

The journey from Lie to Set Me Free Pt.2 is striking. In Lie, Jimin cannot seem to be able to escape the lie. He is crying for outside help, unable to save himself. “Pull me from this hell,” “Save me, I am being punished.”

In Set Me Free Pt.2, he has agency, and he has overcome his hardships himself.

Finally free Look at me now I won’t stop, even if they mock me.

Jimin has said that that’s what the song is all about:

“Set me free” means setting myself free, so I thought it was important that I be the one to set myself free — not someone else. In the end, I’m the one who has to set myself free.

The MV visually shows that he has set himself free as he ends up in an all-white outfit after having been in a black (and somewhat naked) outfit up until the end of the video.

Visually representing a light in the darkness, as he said is this song’s energy:

I would say the song has the energy of a light in the darkness. I wanted to express that kind of picture everyone has in their head — a ray of light coming into the darkness is the only thing you can see. If I had to say specific colors, I’d say black and white.

It’s one hell of a powerful message. That we can set ourselves free on our own, no matter the darkness of the maze, of our shadow. That in fact, we are the only ones who can set ourselves free. I don’t have the words to express how inspiring it is, how much of a privilege it is, to watch Jimin express this in such a musically and visually striking way as Set Me Free Pt.2.

In conclusion, Jimin places the song firmly in BTS’s discography by using the motif of the maze, talking about similar themes (overcoming hardships) and referencing ON and Interlude: Shadow (maybe). At the same time, the song is uniquely his at it is very personal to his own journey of setting himself free from hiding and pretending to be someone else.

Thank you, Park Jimin.

#jimin #i love you to death and beyond #park jimin #artistry #bts lyrics #bts analysis #face #set me free pt.2 #bts

[lenteur]

random thoughts about castaway diva, episode ten

(read more because i always get carried away lol and this post might contain spoilers)

Lee Uk is an incredible man!!! I keep repeating myself but he is. The lengths he'll go to to protect his family... <3 I have a lot of respect for him both as a man and as a father. He even went as far as confessing to the police about stealing the family's identity. He's a good man. His face should be the definition of the word "good". I am very tired but know I'll be always rooting for that man.

I'm disgusted by their neighbors' actions: spreading false rumors, turning their backs on so called friends, pitying mr jung when they know nothing about him. I can't wrap my head around the fact they'd stoop that low when they've known them for that long. Victims of ab*se already have a hard time confessing and going to the police to file a complaint, add on top of that nosy and hypocritical neighbors and friends = you'll obtain victims that'll never break out of their silence because of the shame and guilt.

One thing you can count on mok ha for is standing up for the people she loves. She's the first one to confront the neighbors by deconstructing their arguments/theories. It's a beautiful thing to see the relation between mok ha and the kang family. They're one big family 💓

Going back to lee uk, that man is a treasure. He's ready to face the consequences of his actions because he was inspired by his son's words "a lie is a lie. The more you lie, the more weaknesses appear."

Mr Jung is one scary man ewww He talks about his wife and kids as his property and not as people he loves dearly. No wonder they all escaped from him. And in his twisted mind, all his actions are normal and natural. It's natural for a father to search for his wife and kids. It's also normal to hit and ab*se his kids because they didn't obey him. I hope he ends up in jail and away from the family for a long long long time.

Poor Mok ha has a lot to deal with in this episode. First the testimony of mr jung's ab*se towards the family, now ran joo asking her to cut ties with the only people she can call family. I know she's trying to make sure mok ha wouldn't give up just like she did before but that's still a little bit harsh. I'm sensitive I know that.

I can sense the heartbreak coming 💔 ran joo is right about the general public's opinion of mok ha if the latter doesn't cut ties with the family. It breaks my heart but I do understand where she comes from. She has the right to think about herself too. Yoon ran joo is putting a lot into mok ha's career so she has to be sure of whether she'll produce mok ha's album or not.

I know I just said ran joo was harsh with mok ha but she needed to hear that. Mok ha still has this very utopic idea of the world, thinking the rumors won't come back on her once she debuts. She's always been naive so I'm thankful for ran joo shaking her up and opening her eyes.

I admire mok ha because she has so much love to give. She's far from weak, she's proven time and time again how strong she is not only on the deserted island but also in her pursuit of her goals. She prefers to see the glass half full instead of half empty. But sometimes, I can't help but think to myself she needs someone bringing her down to earth from her dreams. Don't get the wrong idea, it's a great thing to have a positive outlook on the world, but sometimes when you do it a lot, it becomes too much.

Oh no... The parallels between young ki ho preparing for their escape from chunsam island and now bo geol putting up the final touches of mok ha's new appartment... my heart is too weak for that!!!

The fact that he bought her an appartment as soon as he found she was alive! Ki ho, the man that you are today 💗💗💗

Mok ha being torn between the two most important things in her life: her dream of becoming a singer & protecting her family. I feel so sorry for her.

It's cute how mok ha thinks she can fool anyone by pretending she's only interested by her reputation as an almost-debuting artist. You can see it. You can hear it. She's not sure of herself. It sounds like she's beating herself up she hears those words come out of her mouth.

There are several things I don't understand: why did ran joo give up her shares when she was so close to the goal? Reaching the goal would've helped both her and mok ha in the long run (ie more money, more creative control, more decision making, etc.). That still doesn't make any sense to me. I'm grateful we got to see ran joo in her element (producing music) but still, i think her getting majority (or half i don't remember) of the shares would have been a better tactic. 2) How did woo hak fall in love with mok ha? It might be because I support bo geol and mok ha more but the love triangle feels a little forced :/ i do wish woo hak to find love, but not with mok ha.

Mok ha learning from her mistakes (distancing herself from the family) and being ready to risk it all to defend ran joo. Just like she said: "If I keep cutting people out, who's going to be left?" She's always been loyal to those close to her so it doesn't surprise me why she said that. And she's right. She's been living alone for a long time, she doesn't need to live that kind of life a second time.

It's nice to see the family all come together to face mr jung. I hope they win this case and mr jung leaves them alone once and for all.

A promising preview for the next episode, I can't wait!

Overall, I'd give this a 8.85/10

#main obstacle of this posts: trying to write mok ha instead of eun bin #i had to correct myself way too many times it's not even funny #i'm contradicting myself a lot in this post #but when have i ever not done so? never #the answer is never lol #random(al) thoughts #kdrama #castaway diva