#and whether or not they die now or later have fucked the youngest generations into holding the bag

[webgeekist]

.

#I’ve read some Twitter commentary about how the under 25 assimilation is some kind of #social commentary about the younger generation being easy to influence #one I find that to be hilarious considering how easily my family was pied pipered into anti-vaxxing #but two I fundamentally disagree with the idea that this is a commentary about the younger generation #look the under 25s in Starfleet are fucking ensigns #they have no power and no say in the trajectory of the technology they’ll be stuck with for decades #fleet-wide inter connectivity was a decision made by captains and admirals #you know..the Wolf 359 survivors #the ones who should have known better than to touch Borg technology and decided they had to be smarter than the fucking Borg #so they did it anyway #also the ones who created the angry Changelings #by withholding a lifesaving sure and experimenting on a sentient species #this isn’t a commentary on wokeism or younger generations being fickle and collective-y at all #or ok maybe it is BUT #this is a commentary about how the older generations have continuously fucked with things they shouldn’t #created an existential crisis with unsustainable politics and ecosystems #and whether or not they die now or later have fucked the youngest generations into holding the bag

[8greenstickynotes]

exactly two (2) people told me to do it so now you get sleep deprived rambling from yours truly about all the ways Rick Riordan fucked up Nico di Angelo's age.

general disclaimers: i have not finished rereading all the books so there is a high chance I've missed a random detail because I wasn't going searching through the 10ish books that Nico features in, to double check a tiny detail. If I'm not sure of something I'll say so and I might correct it later.

I'm also working off the assumption that if you’re reading this you know 

a. The characters names b. The book name acronyms  and c. The storyline (or atleast the general storyline)

Okay? Okay. 

I'm only going to briefly skim through why Nico di Angelo's age is a topic of confusion within the fandom in the first place;

He’s first introduced as being 10ish years old, but when we get through to Heroes of Olympus he’s 16. Heroes of Olympus is set 4 years later, not 6. (see the problem?)

It has become weirdly controversial (at least in certain circles) as to whether Nico is 14, or 16. And me being an overachiever who is slightly too invested in Nico’s storyline, I decided to go and figure out where Rick fucked up. 

First we have what I refer to as the 10/14 timeline:

Nico is introduced in The Titans Curse, which if we use the following timeline and the assumption that TLT happened in 2005, takes place in December 2006. As best as I can remember/I read somewhere that Nico was 10 (Born 1935, put in the Lotus casino in 1945) during the events of this book and that Bianca was 12 (Born 1933, put in the Lotus casino in 1945). Which would make Nico the following ages in the following books: 

TTC (December 2006): 10 BOTL (Summer 2007): 11 TLO (Summer 2008): 12 HOO Series (December 2008 - June/August 2009): 13 TOA Series (January to about June (Based on when The Ship Of the Dead was set) 2010): 14 TSATS (August/September 2010): 14

That kind of wants to make me tear my hair out because 

That is a child and

The fandom wiki says he’s 15, which as best as I can tell is 1 year off no matter which 'timeline' you follow

That part makes sense, and if Rick had been consistent, we could've accepted the fact that Nico is 14, no matter how depressing that is. Unfortunately Rick is not known for his consistency especially when it comes to Nico’s character. 

The question still stands though; Why is anyone thinking he’s 16? Ahahahaha. The short answer? Rick can’t fucking count. Thus enters the 13/17 timeline:

In House of Hades when they’re visiting the Diocletian’s private residence (or more well known as Moments Before Disaster (aka. The scene right before the Cupid scene™ (page 272 in my copy) Nico says to Jason that he visited when he was about 6 or so in 1938, which would put his birth year around 1932. This doesn’t align with his 10/14 timeline and puts him at 16 in Heroes of Olympus. 

Being born in 1932 makes him 13 in 1945. This means Bianca would have been born in 1930, making her 15 in Titans Curse, which of course makes her older than Percy and completely fucks up their (Percy and Bianca's) dynamic. (Bianca being younger than Percy is significant because she is the same age when she dies as Percy is when he goes on his first quest, so not only is Percy responsible for her because of his promise of Nico, but because she is that little bit younger than him (in fact she’s the youngest character to die in the series, I have thoughts about Percy and the di Angelo siblings relationships but I won't get into them here) To make matters more confusing for Bianca and her age, no matter when Nico is referred to have having been born, she’s only ever referred to as dying at 12, or being 12 in Titans Curse, when talking about Nico's age, no one ever considers her (which, rude.). Even if Nico is following the 1932 timeline, she's still the older sister and somehow still 12 when she dies. (I don't get it either, man.)

If Nico was born in 1932 that puts him at the following ages in the series:

TTC (December 2006): 13 BOTL (Summer 2007): 14 TLO (Summer 2008): 15 HOO Series (December 2008 - June/August 2009): 16 TOA Series (January to about June (Based on when The Ship Of the Dead was set) 2010): 17 TSATS (August/September 2010): 17

This version of the timeline is overall more palatable for the audience (both from a childs point of view and for older readers), there is no longer a 12 year old fighting in a war but instead a 15 year old (not sure if this is better tbh), and, uh also, percico becomes wayyy less sketchy, (y’know it goes from from 14x18 (😐🤨) to 17x18)

So if there are two clear cut timelines/ages for Nico why is everyone so confused? Shouldn’t we just pick one and call it a day? Well. Rick has stated two birthdays for Nico, January 28th 1924 and May 16th 1924. 

Yeah. I know.

1924??? What the fuck. (this is honestly more evidence for the fact that Rick can’t count.) If Nico was born in 1924 that would have made him 21 in 1945. Which is just wrong. 

January 28th and May 16th are pretty different dates and are also totally random. (literally nothing significant that would relate to Nico symbolically happens on those days) 

The date listed on the Fandom Wiki is January 28th 1932, but honestly, Fandom isn’t the most reliable source but that contains already established dates, so sure why not. With Nico's age constantly being called into question, where does this leave Nico and Will?

Will is referred to often in Fanfiction as ‘the older boy’ which lines up with canon and the Fandom wiki (is this the first time all three groups have lined up??) but unfortunately the Fandom wiki lists him as being 16 years old despite being referred to as 15 in the Tower of Nero and throughout TOA. Because this inconsistency lines up with Nico’s on the Fandom Wiki, I think it's safe to say that the wiki aged them up prematurely so that's not really an issue, but follows Nico's 10/14 timeline. (10/14 timeline would make Will 15 and Nico 14 and the 13/17 would make Will 18 and Nico 17)

Something I almost forgot but want to mention is that Rick either switches back to Nico's original timeline in TOA (10/14), or , puts Will and Nico into a relationship with a 2 year age gap (15x17). Honestly, given we have Frank/Hazel and Leo/Calypso, and Nico's character inconsistencies in the past both are equally likely-

The next question is of course, how old is Nico actually???? (that's said in a slight hysterical laughing/crying combo voice.) uh, despite all of that^ there isn’t really an answer and honestly? I couldn’t give less of a fuck which age/timeline you use. If you want child soldier angst or ‘oh my goodness how could they do that to him’ (etc) use the 10/14 one. If you want trauma explorations or shipping opportunities (etc) use the 13/17. Stick to one, switch between the two, whatever suits you best. 

Bonus thoughts:

Why did his age change? Here are my thoughts

Rick literally just can’t count and straight up forgot how old nico was supposed to be in the 6 years between the TTC and HOH releases - boring but most likely :/

Rick realised that as his story went on, having Nico (who by the time his age was changed was a pretty major player) as a literal c-h-i-l-d wasn’t a great idea for what he was doing in the story - a valid reason for changing the age but not likely, we know Rick has little problems in creating child soldiers (See: Kane Chronicles)

Rick realised that Nico being a child made a few things awkward, namely the romantic relationships he was planning - a valid reason for changing the age and maybe?? likely.

tldr?

Nico is either 10 in Titans Curse and 14 by the end of The Sun and The Star or 13 in Titans Curse and 17 by the end of The Sun and The Star. Rick switches between ages like his life depends on it fucking up Bianca and Wills ages in the process. Pick and chose whichever timeline works best for you and your story, but make sure to change Will especially to match.

#this might be totally incomprehensible idk #ngl this was fueled by rage and what i think may be an impending hyperfixation #shout out to those two users ily both 🫶😘 #there's a tldr at the end under the cut #oh my godd im anxious to post this lol ive not done anything like this in like 2 years gjdkslgjk #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #will solace #bianca di angelo #mentioned: anti!frazel #mentioned: anti!caleo #anti caleo #anti frazel #< i thought it would be better to tag that that not #heroes of olympus #riordanverse #pjo #hoo #trials of apollo #toa #welcome back to rick you fucked up #solangelo #tsats #pjo hoo toa #pjo hoo toa tsats #the sun and the star #long post

[frevandrest]

Everything Wrong with Saint-Just's Introductory Scene in La Révolution française (1989)

As promised, here is an analysis of Saint-Just’s first scene from La Révolution française (1989). You can watch the scene (with English subtitles) here. It sadly misses the dramatic entrance part, but everything else is there. SPOILER: This analysis will not, in fact, cover everything wrong because there’s so much trash you can’t adequately address it in only 1000 words. 

In the scene, we see a young man with that hair rushing down the steps of the Convention (in what will be his signature dramatic! style). He pushes people way without even looking at them. There is someone at the rostrum, and many people wait to address the Convention. Saint-Just doesn’t give a fuck. “I demand to speak.” Some deputies murmur a weak protest, but they are shit out of luck because it’s time to introduce a new character, and we need to know what a jerk he is. So of course he’s granted the word. 

At first, nobody pays attention, but “just like you, I would die for this Republic”, seems to work. He delivers the speech (which contains maybe two lines from the actual one), and by the end, Marat claps, the Convention claps, Danton and Girondins are suspicious; Robespierre is in love. Camille, oh Camille, does he know he’s just been replaced? Saint-Just pouts slightly (my interpretation) but doesn’t show much emotion. Next scene: Louis receives news that he’s being put on trial. Good job, new boy. 

As first scenes go, this is a good introduction to Saint-Just as depicted in the film. But it’s also very wrong for SJ as a historical personality (what we know of him). Which sucks, because it’s not like it’s impossible to make an unsympathetic yet historically accurate SJ, if one wants to go that route. See, Saint-Just in La Révolution française is a prop; he’s not a character with his own complexities, goals or motivations. He is just there to be pretty and evil, and to take Robespierre away from Camille.

So, why is this introduction wrong? 

Let us remember that this was Saint-Just’s very first speech at the Convention. He got elected days after his 25th birthday; he was the youngest out there. Also, even with Robespierre’s support (that some claim he already enjoyed), he was an unknown; a peasant provincial from Picardie barely out of his adolescence. He wanted to prove himself and demonstrate that he was a worthy representative. Being rude and pushing people away is not really a good way to achieve that. 

Here’s the thing about Saint-Just: despite all stereotypes of the contrary, he respected authority. However, he only respected authority that he felt deserved to be respected. In 1792, “monarchy” was not it. But National Convention? Revolutionary government? Of course he respected it. He fought so much to get there, and he respected the place he was given. 

Throwing his weight around, pushing people away, demanding to speak when someone else is at the rostrum, disobeying order... It was really not Saint-Just. He hated commotion and fights that happened so often at the Jacobin club. Even on 9 Thermidor, when Tallien interrupted him and shit hit the fan, he continued to attempt to deliver the speech. They pushed him, and he kept trying to speak, without, I don’t know, punching someone in the face (La Révolution française Saint-Just totally would, which is, admittedly, one of the many, many many reasons why it sucks that they shortened and condensed Thermidor). 

The film uses “blame Saint-Just for Robespierre’s turn to darkness” approach. SJ is there to encourage Robespierre into cruelty and cold violence, and, if Robespierre starts to doubt even for a moment, to reassure him that yes, this is how things should be done, you are right Max, let’s kill them all, but particularly Camille; I can’t stand that guy for having you first  ridiculing my poetry (wait... SJ’s poetry wasn’t in the film. Why does he hate Camille, again?) Who knows. The only explanation the film provides is that Camille is Good and Saint-Just is Evil, so of course he’d want to get rid of him. 

Now, let us see about the speech itself.

The Speech

The speech Saint-Just delivers in the film contains maybe a few lines from the actual speech (notably: “this man should reign, or die”). I don’t have a problem with them not replicating the speech word for word because it followed on what other deputies talked about (which we didn’t hear)*, and because nobody has time for Antoine’s ramblings about antiquity. (And it would take around 10 minutes to act, which would probably provide us with more glorious shots of Robespierre falling in love being impressed, but it would take too much of the running time. I get that.)

So, in theory, I am fine with shortening the speech and paraphrasing, as long as the meaning and content is there. Which... it did on a surface level while also missing the point substantially.  

*Not showing SJ addressing what others said before him was understandable (condensing runtime), but it’s another thing that made it seem like he didn’t listen nor paid attention what others were doing. Also, it’s a missed opportunity to characterize him as a jerk full of himself, since his real speech basically opened with: “all that the previous guy said is bullshit, and here’s why”. 

Speech in the film: I would die for the Republic and I would fight the enemies of the Republic. We all know the name of the enemy, and I, like none here, am ready to fight against this enemy. Louis is a symbol of traitors among us. We should not hesitate; the king is an usurper. 

In short, speech in the film is, kind of, less about Louis and more about what SJ will be important later: his own sense of revolutionary righteousness and for weeding out “traitors” from the Convention. 

Another issue with the speech is that it wasn’t just about the speech - it was part of Saint-Just’s introductory scene, so we had to learn about his character through the speech. In the film, SJ is rude, cruel and cares only about... well, we are not sure, because there are no motivations whatsoever, but he is there to push Max when something bad needs to be done. I feel that his rudeness during the introductory scene and the way the speech was delivered fulfil this purpose nicely. However, I am not sure that we actually understand what Saint-Just’s speech was about, except vague “we must kill the king” vibe. 

The Aftermath

The scene following Saint-Just’s speech is that of Louis, a doting father, reading a book to his son. Men come and rudely tell him to send the child away. He is to be put on trial. The implication? Saint-Just’s speech won the crowd over and they decided to kill Louis, or at least put him on trial. 

In reality, while Saint-Just’s speech was highly noticed (his real-life dramatic entrance into Convention), the deputies did NOT listen to him. The whole point of the speech was that Louis should not be put on trial - trials are for the citizens, which he is not. Louis’ crime is not treason - the monarchy is a crime in itself. Saint-Just argued against the trial. Yes, his speech was highly influential but presenting it in this way puts way too much weight on this newcomer’s words and implies he was the key factor behind the trial.  

Other Observations

- There is a long debate among historians whether Robespierre was present for Saint-Just’s first speech on 13 November 1792. (I think the conclusion is “probably not”.) But I don’t mind this change, if nothing else, for those glorious shots of Robespierre’s heart eyes and Camille’s “wtf did this guy come from and why is Max looking at him like that?”

- Marat. It is true that he generally praised Saint-Just as an orator, but he disagreed with this speech (Marat was for trial). 

- The reason why this post is dedicated to SJ’s first scene is because I was asked/challenged to write about it. It doesn’t mean that his other scenes were any better (I’d say they were worse). In fact, the entire SJ’s character was a Thermidorized mess. 

- That being said, I don’t hate this SJ. I cannot; LRF was my introduction to the whole Frev thing and will always have a special place. Christopher Thompson was ok, particularly in some aspects of SJ. However, the whole thing was a mess and it should be criticized. 

- Hair. I promised to dedicate one full paragraph to SJ’s hair, but I... can’t. I simply cannot. I am sorry. I tried, but the words failed me. 

- This was more fun that it should have been and there are so many things I didn’t get to say (the entire performance and what this scene means for SJ as a character in the film, a more detailed analysis of the speech and comparison with the real one, etc.) But it did show that I can still vomit write 1000+ words about anything that I have any interest in, which is... good to know, I guess? (Let’s just say that I won’t be winning any SJ contest prizes for laconicism). 

#la revolution francaise #saint-just #french revolution #frev #saint just #movies

[crispyjenkins]

Convince me, CJ! Make me an Obi Wan stan!

AIGHT NEVER DONE ONE OF THESE BUT HERE WE GO

dunno if you were wanting headcanons or facts, so have some of both

1. tragedy

these posts which are too long to screenshot but say things better than my dumb ass:

duel of the fates analysis by @panharmonium

obi’s sticking to the code even through tragedy by @tarantula-hawk-wasp​ and @jedi-order-apologist​

comparing duel of the fates with the maul duel in rebels by @princeobiwan and @padawanakin​

( @panharmonium ) with a wonderful comic here

“Contemplation of death brought only one slight sting of regret, and more than a bit of puzzlement. Until this very moment, he had never realized he’d always expected, for no discernible reason, that when he died, Anakin would be with him.” ― from the Revenge of the Sith novel by Matthew Stover

and his entire story from the jedi apprentice books by Jude Watson (and Dave Wolverton) it makes me weep.

2. worth

this boi just?? doesn’t believe himself? (thanks qui-gon but that’s another post) 

from the Revenge of the Sith novel by Matthew Stover

(side note, he’s one of the youngest council members ever?)

and another quote 

“He is respected throughout the Jedi Order for his insight as well as his warrior skills. He has become the hero of the next generation of Padawans; he is the Jedi their Masters hold up as a model. He is the being that the Council assigns to their most important missions. He is modest, centered and always kind. He is the ultimate Jedi. It is characteristic of Obi-Wan that he is entirely unaware of this.” — Matthew Stover

didn’t mean for all of those to be stover quotes but here we are

(somewhat related is this excellent post by @gffa​ discussing obi-wan being a terrifyingly competent fighter)

3. shippable

( @yeahyeahyeaaah​ )

( @padawansuggest​ ) and this ship needs more fanart *cries*

( @amiro-art​ )

this comic for obirex by @jaegervega​ (cries in rarepairs) 

and more that i don’t ship for squick reasons (QuiObi, ObiMaul, MaceObi, ObiTine, etc.)

4. he’s. so. feckin. light?

( @phsmas​ )

this post from @panharmonium talking about the quote:

“And you, Master. What does your heart tell you you’re meant for?” “Infinite sadness,” Obi-Wan said, even while smiling.”

5. him cute??

(can’t find the original source 😭)

( @lightasthesun​ i think??)

( @saeseetiin​ ) like?????? thumb loops?????

and many more instances that i seem to have lost because i fecked up and tagged obi stuff with a hyphen and url coding doesn’t like that

6. him flirt. him never stop flirt.

i’m also having trouble finding pics/gifs of this and i’m sort of too hungry to keep trying, but he flirts while fighting pretty much everybody, which i find very brave and endearing, and love when he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. i just. he’s so willing to sass. 

9. ewan mcgreggor put SO MUCH WORK INTO OBI-WAN, he put so much of himself into that role and those movies that i really don’t think you can seperate love for them. 

this gif set about him picking his ‘saber in phantom menace ( @kenobi-wxn​ )

this one where he’s just!! so excited!! to be doing star wars!! (  @manny-jacinto )

him talking about the cultural impact of duel of the fates ( @princeobiwan )

some bloopers from revenge of the sith ( @greenarrow )

him doing george lucas’ job helping daniel logan (boba) in attack of the clones   ( @glittergreedo​ )

( @clubjade​ ) with an emphasis on 

“Now, many years later, the prequels meant a lot to the generation that were kids then. So from smirking, cynical opinions, now I’m getting feedback from the kids they were made for. I’m really happy about that.”

10. some misc. stuff i collected that i didn’t know where else to put

( @theravenjedi​ )

( @animymind​ )

and my favourite fucking obi thing of all time:

( @luvvewan​ ) i just. i have no words for this post. i love him so much.

stuff i can’t find pic/quote evidence for ‘cause i’m too hungry:

he loves the clones. so much. would literally rather die than lose men needlessly

is padmé’s most trusted jedi (even over anakin) and their friendship drives me to tears

had to be told to stop promoting cody

is super strong in the unifying force and has/had lots of visions which i think is underutilised in canon and fanon (so i end up putting it in almost all my writing whoops i love him being an anxious boy so much)

got yelled at by owen lars for trying to help luke from afar and i will FIGHT—

him baby blues

how fecking confused he is when he first lands on kamino

whatever the fuck is happening in this post

came so. fecking. far. from how he was as a padawan, mastered his emotions and found his spot in the universe, no matter how tragic it was

blames himself for both anakin’s fall and the clone chips (even if he never learned about them, which i don’t know what’s canon anymore whether he did or not)

he just?? has so much love in his big ol’ heart? and forgives and grieves and sighs and lives and trusts and dies. and then helps anakin become a force ghost because he can’t imagine death without him.

and now for some headcanons

he likes really realllly bitter tea, partly because qui-gon liked lighter teas so when he starts picking his own after being knighted, he goes with more flavourful ones

his immune system is shot after the clone wars ‘cause he uses so many stims/adrenaline shots/whatever they call them in the gffa because he’s in charge of a third of the GAR and he already worked himself too hard before the wars and boy howdy do those fuck up your immune system

cut his own padawan braid after qui-gon’s death

even though he almost left he order for Satine, he WOULD have if Anakin asked

was lowkey devastated that anakin did not give him his padawan braid after his knighting during the clone wars (no clue what’s canon anymore? but i grew up on the 2003 clone wars, and anakin gives it to padmé and i’m still having feelings about it)

is the council’s baby, in that everyone on the council either saw/helped him grow up, or grew up with him.

while canon says he could never kill anakin, he would have killed vader to protect luke

so in conclusion:

( @left-leggus )

#long post #cj answers #anon #obi wan kenobi #analysis #prequel trilogy #original trilogy #clone wars #i'm so sorry to everybody i ended up tagging in this #i didn't want your work to go uncredited #the obi stan saga

[sm-pantheon]

SMPantheon AU Information

Greetings, Tumblrer. Can I interest you in my Dream SMP God AU? Yes? Great. Hope you like reading.

I should clarify, before we begin, that there is one rule in the Pantheon: and that is not to date those in other classes. This rule is often broken due to the enforcer's blatant biases, so some people get off scott-free. This rule doesn't apply to dating humans, however, because of the need for classic zeus-style, demigod-bearing hijinks.

THE TRINITY

The creators of the universe, the dreamons. Gods of Chaos. Two have been replaced so far.

Dream XD The creator, the father, the man...god...thing Himself. Yes, that H is capitalized. He was the first god to exist, and every heavenly being stems from Him in some way. He enjoys seeing people suffer. He loves George in secret, even if He hasn't yet reciprocated. He stripped Captain Puffy of some of her power because He deemed the God of Order to be getting in the way of His chaos. His mask has the XD emoticon on it, fittingly enough.

Dream The 'son' of the Trinity, and the enforcer of the love law. His position was once filled by Mexican Dream, before he was demoted for being a dumbass. He later demoted Mamacita for falling in love with Mexican Dream, because they weren't in the same God class anymore. He is notoriously biased and nepotistic with his enforcing. He's also an asshole. His mask has the :) emoticon on it.

Drista The 'holy spirit' of the Trinity. A child. She causes chaos wherever she goes, whether intentionally or not, which makes DXD very proud. Her position was once filled by Mamacita, before she was demoted. She often hangs out with the demigods, most often Tommy. Wherever she goes, hijinks ensue. He mask has the >;P emoticon on it.

GREATER GODS

The most powerful gods, besides the Trinity.

Philza The God of Freedom. A ruthless killer, but a pretty good father figure. He was the first non-Trinity god, and appropriately he matches up with their chaos. He is most notably the god who invented angels, and personally made the first one, Clara. A long time ago he fought with Awesamdude because of their conflicting symbols and won, demoting Sam to the rank of a regular God. His wife is Kristin, a (dead) human, but one time he had a fling with a refridgerator. Confusing times. His sons are Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur, and his grandson is Fundy.

Technoblade The God of Violence, often regarded as the 'Blood God'. He is a force to be reckoned with, and you can probably trace him back to every world war in some way. He has a more stoic and calm side, which only Philza and his family can bring out. He acts as sort of an uncle and brother to them, sometimes caring for the kids. He would rather die than have his own, though. He feels an attachment to his friend Ranboo's son, Michael, because they are both pigmen. He plans to train him when he grows hold enough. His pride and joy is the section of the underworld he invented, which is the section where sinners burn eternally.

Antfrost The God of Love. Currently he is taking refuge on earth with his boyfriend Velvet, who is the third archangel. He's never been very friendly with Dream, so it would be inevitable that he would be punished for loving Velvet. To avoid this, he fleed to a small town on earth. He has had a long-time rivalry with Ponk because of his innate hatred of cats.

Foolish Gamers The God of Creation. He is a master builder, and has built the temples of all the Gods. One day, Sapnap, the God of Destruction, challenged him to a fight, and whoever lost would be demoted. He accepted and won, which is why his equal is now lower on the totem pole than he is. He created the earth with Hannah at the command of the Trinity. His best friend is Eret. He often enlists the help of the rock nymph HBomb for help with terraforming and foundation building.

Karl Jacobs The God of Time. He can control time by slowing it down, speeding it up, pausing it, rewinding, etc. However, he is only allowed to use it when the Trinity gives permission. Usually, he just sits around and helps his "not fiancés", Quackity and Sapnap, with their work. He was born soon after Philza.

GODS

Averagely powerful gods.

Sapnap The God of Destruction. He was originally a greater god, but lost a fight to Foolish and gave some power up as a result. He is responsible in part for all the natural disasters of the world.

Awesamdude He was stripped of some of his power by Philza (with assistance from Techno, although he'd never admit it). He acts as a father figure to some of the younger heavenly beings. He created Sam Nook, an altered clone of himself, to be a Nanny for Philza's children. He now takes care of young Fundy and Michael. Loves Ponk in secret.

Badboyhalo The God of Purity. Cannot do wrong, after all he is the only person who actually is dating someone and is following the rule. Has a public record stating he has never sworn. He's highly devoted to his pursuit of holiness... and also Skeppy.

Skeppy The God of Fortune. After all, he's made of diamond. He's a goofball, especially around Bad. He's Bad's best friend/boy friend, B.B.F., as he would say!

Captain Puffy The God of Order. She has always had a rivalry with the Trinity for directly contradicting them with her existence. Because of this, her dates with Niki have to remain a secret, or else she'll be demoted again. Currently she's filling the paws of Antfrost as God of Love until he comes back, or a new heir is born.

Hannahxxrose The God of Nature. She mostly hangs out on Earth, tending to gardens worldwide, but she stays in heaven an ample amount too. She was literally born from Foolish's idea to create nature for earth, which she then assisted in plans for.

JSchlatt The God of Sin. He was originally a Greater God, but he had to be demoted so that the human race wouldn't be absolutely fucked. He's technically in charge of the Underworld, but he doesn't do jack shit down there. He's a raging alcoholic, and is always complaining about heart problems. His best friend is Minx.

Eret The God of Power. He isn't part nymph or anything, but the nymphs respect him and have crowned him as their king. He gladly accepts this role. His best friend is Foolish.

MINIGODS

Less powerful gods.

GeorgeNotFound The God of Beauty. He is fully aware that DXD is in love with him, but he doesn't want to reciprocate for fear of the rule. Still, he hasn't ratted him out... yet. He often hangs out with Sapnap, and he used to hang out with Dream, but he has become more distant as of late.

Mamacita The God of Justice. Also known as Girl Dream. She was removed from the Trinity for loving Mexican Dream after he was demoted. Since she and him still have a lot of power, they've been tasked with running the Underworld. Her mask has the :/ emoticon on it.

Mexican Dream The God of Death. Was removed from the Trinity for generally being a dumbass. He co-runs the Underworld with his Mamacita. He has also adopted Quackity as a twin. His mask has the ;] emoticon on it.

Quackity The God of Humor. He doesn't do a whole lot, just hangs out with his fiancés and his unofficial twin. An absolute jokester.

Slimecicle The God of Joy. A lovable goof who has never done a thing wrong in his life. He has a human wife, Grace, and his son is Connor. He skips around heaven a lot, and often hangs out with the angels.

Ranboo The God of Identity. He is *platonically* married to Tubbo (so Dream can't technically punish him!) He has a son, Michael, and he often hangs out with the demigods. He is considered the least powerful full god. He has a habit of forgetting things and also a habit of stealing all the gender from the other members of the Pantheon.

Niki Nihachu The God of Grace. She mainly takes care of the children along with Sam Nook, and hangs around the water nymphs. Her best friend is Sally.

Jack Manifold The God of Spirit. Previously nicknamed 'Thunder', he is an epic gamer lad. He famously invented 3D glasses and also Britain.

Ponk The God of Bravery. Has had an age-old rivalry with Antfrost because of his fear of cats for eons, and he is quite happy that he's gone. He has a strained love for Sam, which they have to keep secret. Only Sam has seen the rest of his face, under the mask.

DEMIGODS

Half gods, half humans. They are free to travel between earth and heaven.

Tommyinnit The youngest son of Philza and Kristin. A rambunctious teenager who is quite popular among the gods, especially Drista. Often flirts with the goddesses, and always says he has a crush on the Queen of England.

Tubbo The middle son of Philza and Kristin. A chaotic man-child and also goat boy. He is absouletly adored by the Trinity. He has a "platonic" husband, Ranboo, and a son, Michael.

Wilbur The eldest son of Philza and Kristin. A musical prodigy, who is an adult but doesn't quite act like one. He has a wife, Sally the water nymph, and a son, Fundy.

ConnorEatsPants The only son of Slimecicle and Grace. He is a massive sonic fan. If you asked life advice from him, he would tell you that the only problem with being faster than light is that you can only live in darkness.

SEMIGODS

Demigods, except it's not a 50/50 split between God and human. Other races can also be added.

Fundy The son of Wilbur and Sally. He is 25% God, 25% Human, and 50% water nymph, but most importantly, 100% furry.

Michael The son of Ranboo and Tubbo. 75% God and 25% human. He's good friends with Technoblade because of their shared pigman-ness.

NYMPHS

Mythical and elemental creatures.

Sally A water nymph. Married to Wilbur and the mother of Fundy.

HBomb A rock nymph. Often helps Foolish with his builds.

Alyssa An air nymph. She's been wandering around the outskirts of heaven for an eon with Callahan.

Callahan An air nymph. Wandering with Alyssa.

Minx A fire nymph. Best friends with Schlatt and Niki.

ANGELS

Heavenly servants.

Punz First archangel. He's currently the Trinity's bitch, but if you offered him enough money he would absolutely betray them.

Purpled Second archangel. He just follows Punz around and helps him with his tasks. He isn't very devoted to his job. He was the one who came up with the idea of space.

Red Velvet Third archangel. He has fleed heaven with his boyfriend Antfrost. He's working as a baker on earth.

Michael McChill Replacement third archangel. He was created out of a necessity for three archangels, and he isn't very well adjusted. He has no motivation and has only talked to Philza.

Vikkstar The guardian angel of all the demi/semigods. When he's not watching over them, he is hanging out with Lazar.

Lazarbeam The general of the heavenly guard. He slacks off very much, and often hangs out with Vikkstar. Aggravated easily.

Clara The first angel, and the most wise. She is seen as an oracle and is prayed to as frequently as the gods. She often hangs out in Tommy's dreams.

Sam Nook An altered copy of Sam, made to be a nanny to Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur. Now he takes care of young Fundy and Michael.

HUMANS

Just like you and me. Except some are dead.

Kristin Married to Philza and mother of Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur. When she died, Mamacita offered her a job as the Grim Reaper so that she could hang out with Phil more often.

Grace Married to Slimecicle and mother to Connor. Is the second Grim Reaper, alongside Kristin.

Ghostbur Human clone of Wilbur that Foolish accidentally made when fooling around with the demigods. Has since died and chills out in the animal sector with his sheep, Friend.

Lani Tubbo's sister from his old foster family on earth, who he lives near. Knows everything about everyone in the Pantheon, somehow.

Corpse Husband The janitor of the Underworld. Was a massive sinner when he was alive, but managed to convince Mamacita to let him work for her instead of suffering for eternity.

Mr Beast A generous billionare who runs a private church for the rich in his town. He communes with Karl on the condition that he won't try to gain things for himself using him.

5up A turnip farmer who died and now hangs around Fundy.

.....

Alright. That's it. So. Much. Typing. My fingers hurt. I accidentally deleted all my progress around the halfway point but I persevered. Also, this blog will be used for designs of the AU characters I'll be making. Thanks for reading this far!

Bye. Thanks again.

Oh wait now I have to add a shit ton of tags ughhhh

#dream #dreamsmp #dream team #dnf #au #god au #fanfiction #sapnap #georgenotfound #ranboo #foolish gamers #antfrost #philza #technoblade #tommyinnit #tubbo #karl jacobs #corpse husband #badboyhalo #awesamdude #captain puffy #wilbur soot #quackity #skephalo #awesamponk #mr beast #punz #callahan

[marciaownsmylife]

purly hc - “what could go wrong”

curly sneaks ponyboy out to a concert that he is not supposed to be at

•ponyboy is stupid in love exhibit A

•the entire town was buzzing for spring break because there was a rock concert being held at the drive-in

•concerts didn’t happen often in tulsa and when they did they were usually some boring old people music the parents went to

•so just about every teen in tulsa had a ticket or knew someone or was gonna sneak in

•except ya boi ponyboy

•darry said no, and ponyboy begged for weeks and weeks but darry was not budging in the slightest

•soda was going tho, but he didn’t have school and he could pay for his own ticket

•practically everyone in the gang was going, except for darry and ponyboy

•pony was so upset over this, he had been sulking anytime anyone mentioned it, and it’s all everyone talked about, so that was a lot

•even dallas has gotten johnny a ticket, darry wasn’t too keen on that but it wasn’t his place to judge

•curly however was not only certain that he was going, this bitch had a whole ass plan to get on the stage

•and pony was apart of this plan

•so it came quite a shock to him when he tried to explain what pony had to do, that ponyboy told him he wasn’t going

•”what tf do u mean you’re not going?! how am i supposed to become tulsa’s next rockstar if ur not there????”

•pony was already in a bad mood because of the concert being mentioned so he wasn’t humouring curlys jokes (curly was dead serious tho, we been knew)

•but curly always got his way so he decided that he would just have to do a little more thinking than he was used to

•which was any sort of thinking in the first place

•curly suggested to pony that he’d just sneak out

•pony pointed out that he still didn’t have a ticket

•”leave that part to me, baby curtis, all you gotta do is be at your window”

•and so it was settled ponyboy was going

•but he made curly promise not to get on stage because if ponyboy was going he had to be careful not to run into any of the gang,

•darry had personally told them that there would be a cash reward for anyone who snitched on ponyboy, and this wasn’t just for the concert this was in general

•most of the gang didn’t really snitch that often but they all knew that the cash would be high if pony was caught at the concert

•curly was fine with it, as long as he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, whether that be sneaking pony out or getting up on stage, he was cool

•the night of the concert came and pony had gotten dressed with his pyjamas over his clothes and gotten into bed, he’d also made sure to be extra pissy that day so everyone knew he was pissed off because he ‘wasn’t going’

•which was pretty easy because being a brat was like his specialty with him being the youngest child and everything

•soda and steve has already left, so all pony had to do was wait until darry went to bed

•darry was a heavy sleeper, once he was down he wasn’t getting up until tomorrow

•but of course, he went to bed late tonight to make sure pony was asleep before him, or so he thought

•tap tap tap

•right on cue, that would be curly

•pony stripped off his pyjama layer until he was in his normal clothes and tugged on his shoes

•he opened his window, with as little squeaking as possible, to see curly with his signature grin

•”why ponybabes you look stunning,”

•”it’s the same thing i wore to school today,”

•”did i stutter,”

•they hurry to the drive-in because darry had made them late by going to bed later

•by the time they get there they missed the first song but it didn’t matter to them much, now at least all the flashing lights were already going and it would be harder for people to recognize them (more so ponyboy)

•pony had obviously forgotten his jacket because it’s what he does, so he grabs curlys because it’s fucking freezing

•after they had shown their tickets to the guy at the door, he had put X’s on their hands to show they were under 21 and shouldn’t be served at the bar

•curly wasn’t happy about this, he tried to convince the guy that he was 22, it didn’t work for a second

•they get in and decide to stay around the edges of the crowd to avoid people they knew

•pony was having the time of his life, the adrenaline of sneaking out and the excitement of being able the feel the guitar solo shake the ground was the best thing he had ever felt (bc he’s a virgin lol)

•curly was happy because pony was happy, he even managed to convince him to dance

•as the night went on the boys hadn’t seen anyone they knew, and they had even been to the bar to get water (to curlys disappointment), so they started getting closer to the middle

•curly really wanted to show ponyboy the pit before the show ended so they made their way there for the last couple songs

•this is where it gets tricky

•as another song started the singer instructed for people to get on eachothers shoulders

•curly thought this was a great idea

•and they had managed to sneak a beer each from the bar in the end so ponyboy wasn’t really at his best thinking capacity

•so pony got on curlys shoulders and it was all going fine until he looked to his right and saw johnny about three feet away from him on dally’s shoulders

•johnny didn’t see him yet so pony still had a chance, tugged on curlys hair to get his attention and motioned for him to let him down

•curly did so straight away because he thought pony was about to fall, when pony was down he pointed out johnny and dallas to curly, they were still pretty close to them

•they pushed through the crowd and we able to get away

•until pony bashed straight into his brother soda

•pony thought they were done for, his whole life was gonna be spent locked up in his room because darry was never gonna let him out again

•but he didn’t have long to contemplate his doom, before soda hurled on the ground next to him, and pony quickly put together that sodapop was absolutely shitfaced drunk, he probably didn’t even recognize ponyboy

•pony wanted to help him, but he knew if soda was here steve wasn’t far behind and he didn’t want to push his luck so he left his poor brother heaving up his dinner on the ground

•he raced after curly to catch up with him

•once they had evaded the gang they made a stop a the port-i-loos and decided they would leave now before the last song so ponyboy would be home in bed before soda stumbled in, ponyboy wasnt so sure that soda was even coming home that night but they had to be sure they weren’t caught

•two-bit finally made his appearance when they were on their way out, he was also on his way out but it wasn’t his decision

•he was getting dragged out by security for being too drunk. two had a surprisingly good memory so if he saw them he would remember it, no matter how drunk he was

•curly had spotted him just before two-bit looked their way, he was going to see them either way, so the only chance they had was to make sure he wouldn’t recognize them

•so curly did what any rational tipsy teenager would do, he shoved ponyboy up against a wall and started making out with him, covering ponyboy from view in the process

•it took ponyboy by almost complete surprise, almost because curly was a sucker for spontaneous kisses, pony just wasn’t expecting him to be so rough but then again curly had to make it look like it was some random broad he was with

•it worked, but pony and curly had forgotten all about two-bit by the time they were done, and two-bit was long gone by then

•they got back to pony’s house and snuck him through the window without waking darry and they kissed goodbye and that was that

•it like 5am when they got back and pony had to get up for school 2 hours later and he was not feeling it fam, let me tell you, this boy had never felt to tired in his 14 years of life

•darry was suspicious but pony had the perfect excuse that he didn’t sleep well because soda wasn’t there and he got a nightmare so he was covered on that front

•school however he had no choice but to go or darry would have known, it wasn’t too bad since most of the school were either taking the day off or in the same boat as him since they were all at the concert too

•the teachers knew what was up too so they didn’t really bother much that day

•he was walking home with johnny, he was honestly surprised johnny went to school today until johnny told him that he wasn’t actually at school

•he just showed up to talk to ponyboy after

•now ponyboy was like (nervous laugh) hehehehe whaaaattt ???

•johnny doesn’t fuck around, he gets to the point

•”so like are you and curly a thing??”

•ponyboy is just kinda like ‘deny until you die’

•”what? no, i don’t even know him, like, curly who???”

•spoiler it doesn’t work

•turns out johnny and dallas had seen them in the pit, they were gonna say hi after the song but curly and pony had sketched before then

•pony was like “shit when are you gonna cash in to darry and snitch on me then,”

•he had accepted his fate

•”nah man i’m not gonna do that, and it took me all morning to convince dal not to either,”

•pony’s like tf?? why not?? because if he’s being honest if he were johnny he’d be cashing in as soon as he could

•but what ponyboy didn’t know was that before he saw johnny and dallas, curly had.

•but not in the pit, behind the bar

•they had been making out

•so curly had this information that johnny had assumed he told pony about but clearly he hadn’t

•by now pony caught on to the fact that johnny thought he knew something so he played along

•they switched the subject after that, but johnny hadn’t forgotten that pony still hadn’t answered his previous question about him and curly, he decided to leave it for now

•soda had stayed at steve’s the night before and when ponyboy got home, darry was too busy lecturing soda on his drinking that night to even notice ponyboy practically passing out as soon as he got in the door

•but in the end, curly and pony counted this as a win

anotherrr purly hc because i love these boysss, my online school started back from easter break today so there might not be any more hc too soon :(((

but i have 2 more ideas lined up, one for jally and one for johnnyboy

i also kinda want to do a point of view from jally of this night at the concert idk we’ll see

#purly hc #purly #ponyboy hc #ponyboy x curly #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy #curly #curly shepard #jally #johnny cade #dallas #dally winston #the outsiders hc #the outsiders #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews

[marshmallowprotection]

Above picture is purely stylistic because the appearance Sapphire has in the above is the appearance she takes on after she dies and decides to go to the Heavenly Plane, and Marie only haunts her when she was alive.

In case you cant read the text:

“A ghost of a young girl”

“She’s been by my side since the day I was born”

“But she refuses to answer my questions about who she is”

“I have my suspicions, however…”

“Perhaps, she is one of my ancestors?”

“Or perhaps she is a demon?”

“Or…maybe she is simply scheming to take over my body, the little brat.”

Well, this is the bio of Guardian of The Heavenly Plane. So, hope you like it uwu

Name: Sapphire Elise Vesper

 Aliases (If Any): Saph (Nickname)

Guardian of The Heavenly Plane (Title/Alias)

Stygian Jewel (Nickname Given To Her By The Heavenly Plane Residents)

 Age: 28 (On Death, Physically)

3,000 (Chronologically)

 Date of Birth/Birthday: ???, 1483 B.T.C. (Aka 1,483 Years Before The Creation of Thedian Calendar, And 3028 Years Before 1545 T.C.) [Died 1455 B.T.C.]

 Zodiac: ???

 Status: Deceased (As Human)

Alive (As Spirit)

 Species: Spirit (Currently)

Humans (Previously)

 Magic: ???

 Height: 5’5 Feet (165 Centimeters/1.65 Meters/64 Inches)

 Ethnicity: Vesperian

 Relatives: Oversimplification Because She Has So Many Fucking Relatives Because House Vesper Is Huge, Elisabet Arabella Vesper, Solace von Mariah, The Hallow Sisters, House Diode, And House Vesper, Are All Her Descendants.

She also had three younger brothers and one younger sister. Her eldest younger brother took her title as heir to the throne upon his birth.

 Birth Place: Vesper Empire, Theda

 Nationality/Current Residence: The Heavenly Plane

 Religion (Which Goddess Do they Worship?): Nymeria (Formerly) 

Atheist 

 Occupation: Former Heir Presumptive of The Vesper Empire (When She Was Alive)

Princess of The Vesper Empire (When She Was Alive)

Guardian of The Heavenly Plane

 Affiliations: Vesper Empire (Formerly)

House Vesper (Formerly)

Heavenly Plane

Personality: Stoic, Calm, Dismissive, Stubborn, Distant, But Really Stupidly Powerful, No Seriously, Sometimes Just Crazy, She Does A Lot of Ridiculous Things Even Though She Knows It’s A Huge Freakin Risk, So Reckless, Hates Bright Lights (Which is Basically The Heavenly Plane In a Nutshell ._.)

 Marital Status: Married (Formerly)

Single

 Sexuality: Pansexual

 Likes: The Cold, Snow, Ice Skating, Reading, Quiet Places

 Dislikes: Bright Lights, Hot Climates, People Disturbing Her, Politics

 Role: Secondary Character

Debut: TBA

 Random Facts:

Sapphire’s current appearance is not the appearance she had when she was alive- it is the appearance of one of her previous reincarnations, Auralia, who was her 29th of 50 reincarnations, and lived about 9,000 years ago before 1545, being born in 7545 B.T.C., before even the First Great Theda Civil War.

Sapphire’s first reincarnation goes all the way back to about 200,000 years before the Thedian Calendar was created, being born around 199,999 B.T.C. (yes, seriously)

Sapphire is the direct ancestor of the Hallow Sisters, and indirect ancestor of Elisabet Arabella Vesper and many of her relatives. 

Sapphire had recessive albinism which is actually the cause of why Cora Hallow has albinism- somehow, the gene remained dormant in her descendants until Evadne Hallow (the Hallow Sisters’ mother) married Gabriel Hallow, who also had recessive albinism, and it ended up being the cause of Cora Hallow’s albinism. It is likely several of her descendants married people who also had recessive albinism unknowingly, but it didn’t present itself dominantly in any of her descendants until Cora Hallow.

If her name didn’t already suggest it, Sapphire had blue hair and eyes when she was alive in her 50th reincarnation.

Sapphire is NOT the first inhabitant of the Heavenly Plane- there were several Guardians of The Heavenly Plane before her, she is actually the 21st as the Heavenly Plane was created upon the world’s creation and the first Guardian of The Heavenly Yard was the first person who did not want to go through reincarnation again. Before that, the Heavenly Plane was just empty.

Sapphire is the youngest of all of the Guardians. The oldest is the Guardian of The Spiritual Plane. This is of course if you only acknowledge her age after she died as Sapphire, and not if you count all the years since her very first reincarnation was born. She’s still the youngest Guardian regardless because the others have lived for at least a billion years.

I know I should have put this in Hina’s bio, but in the Twelfth World time passes a lot faster than it does in Cela’s world, hence why Hina is billions of years old in the Twelfth World, but in Cela’s world, she would technically only be a year old even though she lived on for billions of years in the Twelfth World.

Sapphire and The Guardian of The Spiritual Plane know each other, as to be expected since Sapphire has had so many reincarnations. Sapphire tolerates “Spira” (as Sapphire calls her) since she’s fairly calm, but they’re not really “friends”. 

 Backstory: Sapphire was born the eldest child of the Emperor and Empress of the Vesper Empire in the year 1483 B.T.C. 

The Vesper Empire was in civil war for the third time within that century, and because of that Sapphire lived a life of being sheltered away from the world due to the chaos that raged throughout the entire country. While she never liked the company of people very much, she even admitted she grew lonely with her parents almost never paying much attention to her, unless they were berating her for being born a girl, and instead focused their time on ruling, ending the civil war, and bearing a son.

Sapphire most often than not spent her time reading and studying, and she became almost entirely ignored by her parents when her younger brother was born when she 5, another brother 2 years later, a sister 1 year later, and a final brother another year later. While she was arranged to marry a foreign duke from a whole other continent to marry for an alliance, she didn’t seem to mind, not at all caring for her future husband.

It may be time to mention that Sapphire had been followed around by the ghost of a 10ish-year-old girl, who called herself “Marie”. She refused to tell Sapphire who she was, thought Sapphire had many suspicions, such as the idea that maybe Marie was one of her ancestors due to her very fishy resemblance to one of the previous empresses of the Vesper Empire, Empress Ophelia II, who lived about a thousand years ago and had the exact same hair and eye color as Marie and similar facial features, and so Sapphire began to believe that Marie might be the deceased daughter of Empress Ophelia II, though she couldn’t be sure because most the records of Empress Ophelia II were lost in a fire three centuries ago. She also began to search and find the diaries of some of the previous residents of the palace, aka her ancestors, and found many mentioned a girl following them around, though whether this is Marie or some other girl, Sapphire was unable to tell due to the diaries all being in poor condition.

When Sapphire turned 15, the legal age of maturity at the time, she was married to the foreign duke she had been arranged to marry years earlier. Several years later Sapphire would birth twins at age 28: A daughter and a son she named “Luna” and “Glen”. 

However, she would die several months after their birth due to the civil war that was still raging, being killed in an attack on the palace along with one of her younger brothers, sacrificing herself in order to make sure her twin children escaped with their father, who would flee to his home country until the civil war was over.

During the attack Sapphire finally learned the identity of Marie- she was, indeed, the daughter of Empress Ophelia II, and had remained in the Mortal Plane as a spirit because she wanted revenge against her killers: her own family. Apparently, she had been outcasted by her family due to being born “insane” as her family labeled her- in reality, she suffered from schizophrenia, constantly hallucinating and seeing things that weren’t there, causing people to label her as crazy and become outcasted, which she, unfortunately, ended up developing due to genes on her father’s side causing it to run in his family. Eventually, Empress Ophelia ordered her killing because she was apparently an “Embarrassment to House Vesper, and deserves to die so she doesn’t end up snapping on us all. Better she dies than put my only son in danger due to his own older sister.” And so Marie swore revenge, haunting her mother for the rest of her days, and then customarily began to haunt at least of the current generation of House Vesper’s offspring as “revenge”. 

Sapphire would then be stabbed to death by one of the rebels, her last words being “Traitor! You have betrayed your country! I-” before being stabbed in the head.

Sapphire then returned to the Spirit Plane with all the memories of her past reincarnations, meeting yet again “Spira”, aka Guardian of The Spiritual Plane, and deciding she was done with reincarnating, asking her to allow her to go to the Heavenly Plane. Spira agreed only if Sapphire would become the new Guardian of The Heavenly Plane due to the last one “retiring” (read: killed himself after so long of being “alive”, uh, it happens? It was a one-off thing, totally…totally a one-off thing that hasn’t happened several times because it’s not just the goddesses who eventually go crazy from living for so long…totally…) and Sapphire agreed.

Sapphire went to the Heavenly Plane, and now resides on top of a tall mountain on the outskirts of the (now city) that was built there by the residents of the Heavenly Plane. 

She really hates people coming up to the mountain to bug her, and basically shuts out anyone who does decide to climb the mountain to talk to her for whatever reason. She sometimes leave the mountain to talk to people if she’s been alone for too long but overall prefers being by herself, reading, painting, and listening to nature overall. 

(And thinking about how her children are doing, and what happened to them after the battle which she perished in because she really doesn’t know that she has A LOT of descendants).

— Submission 

Okay, but, I really love the flat colors and posing that you did here. It really addss to the personality and flavor of the character. I can already feel what she’s like just from the way that she holds herself, and the way that she looks directly at the viewer. You can see how withdrawn she must feel from others. It’s a kind of attitude that you can’t miss once you see it, if that makes any sense, haha! 

And I mean, being alone can be the best thing for some people, and for others, it may not be the most idea situation. Well, it was an easy out... or an easy-in, if that’s how you want to see it. She clearly has a lot on her mind but not many people wants to talk it through with. 

#oc #ask #mod kait #littleghostlyrose #submission

[geekns]

last night’s breakdown or...spectrum confessions

So i just wanted to saying something about the meltdown that some of you might have noticed last night (i know a couple of you did, though i think i managed to keep most of it under wraps).

I have a medical condition. It causes me to feel anxious and depressed. Constantly. To varying degrees. I take medication for it. I’ve tried to learn how to manage it. I try to hide it because the general public does not understand this condition. Furthermore, i don’t want to share the underlying trauma with anyone and everyone. I want to come across as a functioning adult as much as possible.

So even while I have spent fifteen years learning how to forgive the people who hurt me. And something like six months in therapy. And around two years being medicated...I still have occasional breakdowns.

Sometimes i still have a night where everything that i’m trying to keep copacetic, and acknowledged but not given free reign, takes over. It refuses to be medicated or meditated or prayed into compliance. It takes over me and pours out of me whether i want it or not. Suddenly i am not functioning, i am sobbing uncontrollably, and terrified, and feel guilty, and unloved, and imprisoned. And in those moments i want nothing more than to die. A part of me does not even trust myself not to harm myself. I want to be held (but am always alone). I want to protected (but never am). I am normally the person who takes care of others, no one ever takes care of me.

And i feel physically sick. Nausea, a headache, and body aches. Full body grief. Last night i was seeing flashing lights behind my eyelids as if i was having a seizure or on a bad trip. And the panic: the panic is in control, I cannot think straight. Even if i tell myself positive things, or try to use strategies for calming down, try to quiet my raging thoughts, the panic has free reign. It is in full control. And the only thing i can do is curl up in bed hugging my stuffed animal, clutching my blanket, waiting for it to end. And it won’t end until after I’ve slept it off. And I can’t sleep because I’m in fight or flight mode.

Maybe I should do some kickboxing when I get like this.

I’m going to confess, it was probably the worst it’s been in years last night. I was even trying to go to my safe place, and was kind of getting there (i usually can’t do my best safe place visualizing anymore, i think it’s the meds), but the person who normally talks me down from these things was not feeling safe last night. (His likeness was part of the reason i was freaking out tbh.) But even though i didn’t really want him there he didn’t go away, he stayed with me until i fell asleep.

I have imaginary friends sort of. Apparently they’re called tulpa? Though i don’t create or really control them, they just show up fully formed. Mostly when i’m panicking or worried. Whenever i need to talk things through that i have no one to talk to. The thing is, they always wear the likeness of real people, usually celebrities that play characters i strongly identify with. I used to get advice from Picard and Gandalf and Archer for instance. All of us sitting around a campfire on a beach. They’re always men, i don’t know why. (Hmm maybe that goes to daimons?) 

For example: one time i was on a train in Japan, underground, and a drunk man started yelling at two women halfway down the car. And i had a panic attack. And suddenly i was visualizing Twelve/PC talking me down from it, telling me to breathe, that i was safe, etc. Distracting me from the danger. (Two things: i read a story about him talking another fan down from a panic attack outside a convention later. And another male passenger escorted the drunk off the train at the next stop, but i was still panicking for a while. I still had to change trains and it would take me another hour to get home for the night.)

So part of the thing is that the thoughts i usually keep under control, don’t allow myself to dwell on, acknowledge but keep muted with optimism, become deafening and take over when this happens. I think way back when it would be 1-2 times a month, then 1-2 times a quarter, and now it’s 1-2 times a year, but it still happens. I used to just let all of the darkness come pouring out, usually through writing. I’m always alone. And i suppose it’s cathartic, but it’s horrific while it’s happening. I don’t recognize myself, the girl who never gives up and is always glass is 100% full. I don’t want to let others see it even as i’m desperate to be loved and held and accepted as i am.

It’s hard to explain.

When i wake up the next morning the darkness is gone. It’s quiet again, and i feel “normal” (normal for me). It’s hold is gone. Now i always live with a baseline amount of anxiety and depression, even while medicated. If i take too much medication i can’t sleep (i’m already an insomniac, i don’t need drugs making it worse) and so i can’t feel any sexual arousal at all...it really bothers me. It’s hard enough for me to become properly aroused without suppressing it entirely. I generally have to fantasize about something very specific (which let me tell you, the majority of you wouldn’t find to be sexy at all).

When i first went on the meds i spent months where i didn’t feel anything (other than that i was suddenly very chatty and animated in a completely uncharacteristic way) and i hated it. My mom doesn’t understand, doesn’t see repressed sexuality as a downside when i’m not married.

Re: asexuality. My grandma was on the spectrum (we always joke she had sex at least four times...resulting in four kids) and my mother probably is, too. I have had two short-lived dating relationships in which my only sexual desire was to satisfy my partner really. I don’t enjoy kissing. I do have a libido that’s greater than either my mother or grandma’s...but like i said, it’s fucked up and not initiated by any of the conventional methods. Kissing doesn’t make me feel like getting down, for instance. At least in my (so far limited) experience. I keep hoping that i’m actually demi and just need to meet the right person to make this a little bit easier for me. But it will probably just be something i have to work through for the rest of my life. 

Perhaps i should stipulate that I want to want to have sex. And when i do want to have sex i am always alone. And when i am with someone else the things that attract me are just odd. Being read aloud to, or talked to about nerdy things, got me farther than anything else. But it’s not the content so much as the mind that’s behind what’s being expressed.

I am certainly no expert on this subject. My therapist had never heard of demisexuality and had no input on asexuality. In other words, they were absolutely no help when it came to working through these issues, which is where I wanted to go (partially because i feel it may be tied in with my PTSD and is being repressed by fear).

Five types of attraction:

Romantic attraction: desiring a romantic relationship with someone

Aesthetic attraction: being attracted to someone based on how they look

Sensual or physical attraction: wanting to touch, hold, or cuddle someone

Platonic attraction: wanting to be friends with someone

Emotional attraction: wanting an emotional connection with someone

Most of my attraction is towards fictional characters (and to a varying extent the actors who play them). Both of my RL partners would only be physically expressive in private. They wouldn’t touch me in public. Or even in private spaces with others present. There was one i didn’t really know all that well and another who had hidden a lot from me up to that point even though he claimed he didn’t believe in hiding things from the person you’re dating. And we would be physical in private to varying degrees but i was left feeling largely unfulfilled. I kind of struggle with these definitions. Both of the guys I dated i had zero aesthetic attraction to but did have physical attraction to whereas they only wanted to express themselves sexually.

I strongly desire having a romantic relationship with someone but have for a very long time only had romantic attraction for fictional characters. I fairly recently had a physical and romantic attraction to someone for the first time, at first based on sapiosexual attraction that later became aesthetic attraction (why is there no listed attraction for this? I am usually attracted to people’s minds first).

I have very strong aesthetic attraction to certain actors...and this is a large part of the reason that i know i’m bi. But it isn’t only aesthetic for really strong attraction because i am sapiosexual and also strongly attracted to damaged, often misunderstood, people/characters. Case in point: Loki and Missy. In these cases i have strong physical attraction but not sexual attraction. I cannot fathom having sex with most characters or actors or people I meet in RL. I sometimes wonder what casual sex would be like but know that i could never...

I can only remember kissing someone (also a character) in a dream once and immediately put a stop to it, not because i wasn’t attracted to that person, but because they were unavailable in my mind. They were part of an OTP that i was not in. So there’s a strong romantic component for me.

Sensual or physical attraction is actually something I fantasize about a lot but have never experienced...outside of one platonic relationship. I had a friend when I lived in Japan who I wasn’t even particularly close to. But right away she would ask me if she could lean on me, lay against my lap, later link arms with. I can’t remember if we ever held hands. She was Chinese, and for an Asian girl this is very normal to do with platonic friends. Koreans call this “skin sisters.”

It was really weird for me because my own sisters don’t even want to do those sorts of things with me. I sometimes want to lean against my mother but most of my sisters would punch me rather than let me touch them affectionately. My youngest sister, once I came back from Japan, had reached a point where she was bolder and will goose, grope, grab, poke, pinch, try to pop my toes...it’s very disconcerting. She does things to me in front of others that i consider to be more sexual than platonic. Possibly because my only frame of reference is my father doing the same to my mother. She’s the only sister who will sometimes lean against me. But that was only after this friendship in Japan that was more physical than any of my “romantic” but-definitely-not-romantic partners. No kissing, but the sort of physical expression that i most long for.

Platonic attraction is rare for me. Extremely rare. Any platonic relationship i have pursued has always inevitably ended with spectacular heartbreak. In high school i was always on the outside. One platonic friendship ended dramatically (she had been hiding things from me, which is fine, but it ended badly and she moved away suddenly). Another platonic relationship fizzled because she was my best friend but i was just another friend for her. And whenever this happens to me, i am the friend that all plans will be cancelled with because the other friends have preference. And there was no big break there, i was old enough to not be heartbroken by it as i had by earlier examples of this. We still converse on FB and i am the person she came to first when she accidentally got pregnant in college. Have i mentioned that i’m the should people come to when they need emotional support? I’m a good listener and not judgmental and know when to give advice and when to stay mum.

Which brings me to spiritual attraction. We aren’t merely physical or mental beings. There is something else there. And my empathy, my spiritual center...there are times that i know things that i have no logical business knowing. I don’t always understand it, sometimes it’s a feeling, but my intuition is something that i’ve learned not to ignore. 

My last boss, i could tell he had anger issues. I only caught a glimpse of them once. He really liked me so i was fortunate. But every conversation we had after our initial meeting i could tell (spiritually) that he was potentially very dangerous to me emotionally. The more we interacted the more nervous it made me. Familiarity could lead to a loss of professional discretion.

Latter friend: i knew when she IMed me out of the blue after a six month drought that something big was up. She demurred that she couldn’t talk about it. I knew that the only reason that she had come to me was because she needed to tell me. Again, i had a feeling, and it turned out to be correct. She was pregnant. BF wanted her to abort. She didn’t believe in abortion. One conversation gave her the strength to stand up for herself and give her baby up for adoption.

Grandma: I was unable to go home for thanksgiving. Sister (roommate situation) went to her in-laws. I stayed home alone and worked. I was having panic attacks. I had the most heinous period of my entire life. A couple days later my dad calls me up and says: “Has anyone told you that Grandma is in the hospital? She had a heart attack.” No one had told me anything, I somehow knew something was wrong anyway. My brain just couldn’t make sense of it.

Kate Mulgrew: I somehow knew that she was looking for her daughter. Then-me interpreted this as Janeway having a missing daughter, expecting her to show up on the show and join the crew. What i didn’t realize that this was a real longing and need. I have carried this knowledge with me for over twenty years. I found out sometime within the past year that she had become pregnant early in her acting career, while on Ryan’s Hope, given her daughter up for closed adoption, regret it, and it was while she was on Voyager and coming into my awareness she was desperately searching for her, trying to find her, and did in fact find her. I had no rational way knowing any of that deeply personal information. I felt it anyway; deeply. In fact, it changed my life.

Which comes to emotional attraction. I really wanted to be an actor or an author. I don’t think I can memorize or anymore, my aphasia makes it extremely difficult to ad lib/improvise because there are road blocks where i cannot spontaneously retrieve the words i’m looking for. I don’t know if i’ll ever finish a novel, i’m hoping just to finish a lengthy fanfic at this point and then see what comes. A year ago i was doing much better, now it just feels like i’m under attack on all sides. But i feel a strong emotional attraction to artistic people in general.

This sometimes manifests as a sexual attraction for a short time. Sometimes. I can fantasize about a physical attraction...usually in the form of me comforting or being comforted. Sharing burdens. If i know that someone i’m attracted to or love is hurting then it hurts me, often with actual physical sensations (again with the spiritual connections). This tends to cause me to feel as if i “know people” or am kindred spirits with actors, authors, singers, etc. Again, i will sometimes know things that there’s no reason for me to know and is often pointless since it doesn’t enable me to comfort them when they don’t even know i exist.

I am generally okay with this, though it’s sometimes overwhelming. Sometime it feels like an inside joke or shared experience (rare for me outside family members) and gives me ecstatic joy. It’s really weird being an empath.

But again back to being demi: characters (or even the actors who play them) will sometimes feel like friends or family. Sometimes it translates to romantic or sexual attraction: this is very rare. It’s happened a handful of times, but it leaves me feeling completely broken. Why can’t i just be a normal person with normal relationships? Generally it is a positive thing because getting to share their experiences (through reading or watching) gives me a fair amount of feeling accepted, having someone to care for, and hope.

I am a very isolated person. I don’t currently have any RL friends. Most of my support network tends to be online but i don’t really have that going on for me since my last breakup (mutual friends seemed to stick with him, though one friend that was my friend first has since decided that he’s completely nuts and conveniently forgotten that she was the one to introduce us and encourage the pairing). And i know i’m weird but i actually don’t mind that. Having friends that live around the world? That have similar interests? But that i don’t have to get dressed and go outside my comfort zone to hang out with? Awesome.

A year ago i was living somewhere very isolated but i was in a good place because i was supporting myself, had been working full time and making career progress for the better part of a year, was okayish with being single, I had my new kitten, I was mostly happy. It would have been the ideal time for me to start a relationship. And i was actually feeling attracted to a coworker! Like that hadn’t happened for me in nearly twenty years!

But he didn’t want to be more. He wanted me to be the friend he went to to unload his emotional issues on. He didn’t want others to know. He didn’t want to be more than “professional” (it wasn’t professional what was going on, not really). And then COVID hit and everything started falling apart. Things had been wrong with that job that i was trying to stay separate from. Drama, potentially criminal actions, emotional outbursts. I got singed a few times. I knew that another coworker hated me. 

The second time they laid me off i packed everything up and moved back home. Upper management had been getting scary. I could tell that Grandma was reaching the end of her life and wanted to be near family. Which led to my last job, which i loved at first but couldn’t keep up with physically and that started to degrade my mental/emotional state. And then grandma died and i fell apart.

I’ve been trying to pull things back together. I really enjoy my current job but i don’t know if it will work out in the long term. The way the economy is going again...it’s scary. When Obama became president his policies were really punishing for the area. I had just graduated from college and couldn’t find full time work. I worked 2-3 part time jobs and lived with my parents because that was all i could afford. 

I went out on a couple of very large limbs trying to better my situation (teaching in Japan, CLD school) and neither has really. They were amazing opportunities but i get homesick. But then when i am here that’s bad for me emotionally. I need to find some sort of balance, and it’s looking like that balance is for me to live somewhere removed from family and only visit a couple times of years. Which i hate to do but i think i need those boundaries for my emotional well being. But i don’t know how i have a hope in hell of affording any of that. I have a couple of months left to figure it out before my lease is up on my apartment, i need to figure things out by then.

So all of this...i’m not trying to complain here. I know that i tend to come off that way because i’m just honest and matter of fact about things. This is the way things are in my experience. I’ve tried various ways to improve them. The reason i’m recording them is not to illicit pity. It’s so people who don’t have to deal with these issues can catch a glimpse of what it’s like and for others who deal with anxiety and depression can see that they’re not alone. That’s a huge deal. Wherever you are in your journey, you’re not alone, it may be a fight unique to your situation, but you’re not alone. Other people are suffering, too, and it’s not a competition. It’s okay.

I know that being single has its benefits. Living alone with a cat is not something i hate as a rule, let me tell you. What i do hate is not having two or more incomes coming into a household. It is extremely difficult in this day and age to make it alone. I don’t want to worry about anything but money is probably that biggest temptation. It leads to feeling like i’m trapped.

That’s probably why many relationships develop (a need for security) but i’m...i say it is like being broken. Maybe i am because of the PTSD. Maybe it’s just my normal for someone on the spectrum (and let me tell you that even claiming this as part of my identity triggers my imposter syndrome...all of this does really. I didn’t have to deal with the same level of physical abuse that many do so why can’t i just get over it, right?). But i dealt with enough that i cannot form relationships on convenience. I have to feel safe. I want to find someone who i could trust to raise kids with, to go the distance with.

Have i said yet that i tend to overthink things? 

I know that there’s not many of you who will have read this far. Thank you. Writing is part of my process in getting things reorganized in my shit show of a brain/heart/etc. The bottom line of this...i am improving grief wise, last night not withstanding. But i still want more. It’s my birthday and Christmas and it’s the hardest time for me in a way. Because it feels like i’m out of time. Another year has been lost forever. Have i made any progress at all? And it feels as if it’s already too late. My main goal in life was to become a mother and i can’t even have casual sex to manage it. I just can’t.

But there are spiritual things i’m trying to work through. That i don’t feel comfortable sharing here, really. Just i wonder about soul mates and twin flames and dreams/visions. I don’t know what the right choice is. Not for sure. And that is killing me because i want to know God’s will and do it. And i’m an impatient person who’s been waiting a particularly long time and i can’t say that i’ve gotten any better at it.

#confession #personal #depression #anxiety #demisexual #asexual #bi #attraction

[margridarnauds]

I have an Irish ask! How did the regional kings hierarchy work - was there a high king irl? How did you rule, and what over, and how did you get to be high king, if so? (From - a descendant of the Kings of Desmond, but very confused about what's shit, and what's legit, in Irish History?

Kingship in an Irish context is an endlessly complicated topic, and it seems like for every question we get, someone’s written or plans to write a dissertation on it. You accidentally tripped over a landmine when asking me this one. Which is DEFINITELY not your fault, I don’t resent you for it, it just means you are getting a LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGG answer.

But. Anyway. Kingship. I will preface anything I say with the acknowledgment that I am a mythological literature person, not necessarily a law/contracts/history person. Also that, tragically, there are a LOT of law tracts that remain untranslated. (And a lot of things. In general.)

So, this is…complicated, since a LOT of the work in the legal tradition revolves around the notion of kingship (seriously, my closest friend in the department is a legal scholar and we have had some long bitchfests about how much attention is paid to kingship VS the common people, simply because…..guess who was paying for these manuscripts to be made? Yep, it ain’t Farmer Cormac. The single most important thing you can ever remember about these texts is that they were made by and for an elite audience); you have a lot of kings in a fairly condensed space, and it gets to the point of whether we should even really properly translate rí as “king” or whether a more generic term like “leader” is actually more accurate, though it IS cognate with Latin “Rex” and Gaulish “Rix.” (Aka “Vercingetorix”, “Cunorix”, “Asterix”…all the most important “Rix”s of the ancient world.) So. Kings. Definitely kings. But not really in any way we would generally consider “kings” to be. Fergus Kelly estimated that there could be as many as 150 KINGS throughout Ireland between the 5th-12th centuries (17), which….on a relatively small island that holds only about 5 million people in the present….**150**.

Traditionally, the idea of a singular high king of Ireland was….okay, so you have a LOT of guys who claim to be “King of Ireland,” but there’s a question of how real that power actually was, how much power they ACTUALLY wielded, and how stable they actually were. And, on one hand “King of Tara” is generally taken to be synonymous with “king of Ireland”, (hence the Uí Néill’s LONG claim to power), but there are a lot of issues with that one, and it’s something that’s a matter of debate, not the least because it seems like the Uí Néill…..might have influenced the literature ever so slightly as a way of bolstering their own claims (Jaski, Early Irish Kingship and Succession, 215). Basically, no evidence that the kings of Munster paid tribute to the kings of Tara before the 9th century, making the claim that the King of Tara = King of ALL Ireland doubtful. 

And….well, I’ll let Bart Jaski explain the title of ardrí (high king), since he’s the man with the big book on it: “To keep up with [the political developments of Brían Boru’s victory at the Battle of Clontarf], the annalists of the tenth century introduce the title ‘high-king’ (ardri) as a title of recognition or flattery to denote a powerful king who achieved a remarkable domination over others. In later historiography, the old kingship of Tara came to be regarded as the ‘high-kingship’ of Ireland, which is both an anachronism and an inaccurate estimation of what the kingship of Tara meant, both in pre-historic times as in the documentary period. The title of rex Hiberniae given to the kings of Tara Domnall of Cenél Conaill and his grandson Loingsech does not lend support to the existence of a ‘high kingship’. as they were apparently subjectively awarded by partisan annalists and others.” 

Fergus Kelly was more to the point, “The king of Ireland (rí Érenn), who figures so prominently in the sagas, is rarely mentioned in the law-texts. Though the idea of a kingship of the whole isalnd had already gained currency by the 7th century, no Irish king ever managed to make it a reality, and most law-texts do not even provide for such a possibility” (18). 

Charles-Edwards disputed this conclusion in Early Christian Ireland (okay, technically, he disputed Binchy’s conclusions, but this line of thinking), discussing some further references to a single king of Ireland binding the other kings of Ireland to him, as Conchobar was said to have done with the men of Ulster, as well as the legal term tríath, with a line from an 8th century law text being “He is a burdensome tríath who penetrates Ireland of peoples from sea to sea” (519). Liam Bhreatnach suggested in his article ‘Ardrí as an old compound,” as the name suggests, that the term itself, while little used, is old. I can’t get ahold of it at present, but I’m going to presume he did make a solid case, given that Carey, Jaski, and Charles-Edwards all cite him, and they are all careful, respectable scholars. What John Carey would point out in “From David to Labraid” is that actually, several of those early references were in fact to the Christian as opposed to an earthly deity. AKA “The ULTIMATE high king, the highest of kings” (pg. 21-23). Something suggested by Carey in that same article is that the Church MIGHT have promoted the idea of high kingship as a way of appealing to kings who would be interested in it in exchange for their support of Christianity; a quid pro quo. 

Basically, the question of the extent of the high king’s power, both in a Christian and pre-Christian context, is HIGHLY controversial and something I reckon will never fully be satisfactorily resolved, not the least because it also has the misfortune of featuring two favorite, perennial topics of many Celticists: Etymological arguments and kingship. What I think we CAN gather from the debate is that it was very far from a SOLID title, more a matter of individual monarchs as opposed to stable dynasties. Medieval Ireland did not have a Versailles and a Louis XIV, there was not a singular sun king who decided their fates. 

Now, in general, kingship was not necessarily held with the same iron grip that you would see with, say, the Plantagenets in England. Primogeniture was not necessarily a thing here. You did have to be a nobleman to be king (Sorry, Farmer Cormac, you’re out, get back to your field, peasant), and you had to be descended from a king in either the first or the second degree to be king, but you did NOT have to be the firstborn son. If you have seven kids and the youngest is the only one who is qualified to lead….yep, Junior takes the lot. So, that’s the first thing. There’s a section of Mac Firbis’ Great Book of Genealogies (which is a LATE text, but includes basically a scrapbook of older material) that references that exact scenario. Youngest can take it, eldest can take it, eldest PROBABLY has a higher shot of it because…older, more time to be groomed for the kingship, more time to gather people loyal to him, etc. But. Like. All of the kids have a shot, and depending on where they’re fostered off to, their foster families will very likely support them if they want to make a bid for the kingship. (Irish dynastic politics were VERY turbulent.)

 A king is elected to the tribe through the popular acclamation of their major clients/family members; their power, while it is something that is expected to some extent, is not a GIVEN to the same extent. (Jaski 212). Which. Is where the role of tánaiste comes in, which is a late development, but it irons things out so it’s like “Okay, when the old fuck dies, this dude is king.” In a literary context, this is also why Bres’ kingship is kind of doomed from the beginning. Because it’s the WOMEN of the Tuatha dé who support his kingship, not the men.

 And, of course, even if Junior does take the throne, that does NOT mean that his brother’s kids are out of the running when Junior dies (or, more to the point, they might try to speed things along and arrange for a “hunting accident” to happen.) Because of the three generation requirement to maintain noble status, there was quite a bit of infighting (Jaski 197), as different offshoots of a given high king will want the throne in order to maintain their noble rank. Knives Out: The Medieval Ireland edition. 

One story that deals with this is Echtra mac nEchdach Mugmedóin (Adventures of the Sons of Eochaid Mugmedóin), which discusses how the future Niall of the Nine Hostages, born the son of a Saxon slave and the king of Ireland, hated by his stepmother, and the youngest of the lot of the sons ends up taking the kingship anyway. (Answer: He’s down to sleep with an old hag. Who is also the sovereignty of Ireland. And is like “Okay, that was some good D, here’s how you get the kingship now.”) Now, this is primarily a literary as opposed to a historical story, but…..well….that’s where a lot of our stuff for this. Does come from. For better or worse. And I’m not just saying that because I’m currently procrastinating on working on an edition of that very text. 

So, on the question of “How to rule.” The main relationship was between an overking-client king. So, let’s say that I am an underking in….IDK. Munster. What can I say? I like Munster. I’m not even a pronvincial king, but I’ve got my tuath, I’m chilling out, I’ve got my cattle, I’ve got some Nemed-class people with me, I’ve got a bit of land, and a couple of those people we don’t really talk about because they’re not important (Aka “Commoners, slaves, etc.” The people who do the work that the more privileged classes CANNOT do, like chop wood.) 

Now, let’s say that you’re a provincial king, King of Munster. Your father’s just died, you’ve become king, or, alternatively, you’ve beaten the shit out of the other candidates, and you roll up to my people. Now, I could probably fight, but like. That’s a way to. Die. And maybe I do want the protection that comes from a Lord-Client relationship, since, hey, that DOES mean that you’re responsible for me. And if the King of Connacht rolls up and is like “Hey, I want to attack you and steal your cattle” you can roll up and be like “Hey, want to die?” Also, if one of your OTHER subjects kills a man in my tuath, you are expected to mediate, with me taking a hostage from your court until everything’s resolved, and you and I both getting a part of the resulting settlement (Kelly 23). And, of course, I’ll support you as well. It’s a mutual client relationship, just….an inherently uneven one. Most of the powerful subject kings, who were free but still subject to an overking were related to that king by a shared kinship, but there was a double edged sword: I support you, and then your brother Eochaid comes to the throne, I’m up Shit River with no paddle (Jaski 206). If I’m particularly useful/powerful to you, you might even foster one of your kids with me, so I can support him politically later down the line. (And also strengthen the relationship between our two peoples; that kid is going to be more mine than yours by the time that his fosterage is over, he will call you athair and me datai; one is a more formal term meaning “father,” [cognate with Latin pater and English father] one is more like “dad” and is cognate with the Welsh dat. Which seems to be related to….yep, the English diminutive dad.) Peter Parkes rather magnificently talks about this system as: “Clientage dressed in a false plumage of kinship: Cuckold consanguinity.” (”When Milk Was Thicker Than Water?”, Comparative Studies in Society and History 6.3, pg. 606)

So, what would happen there? Well, the system of overking-client king was held together much in the same way as the relationship between individuals would be, ie through hostages. The giving of hostages is something that was EMBEDDED in the legal system. So, you and I would proceed to haggle over who I have to hand over. Now, I don’t want you to take someone too important, you will want to take the most important person you can. I’ll try to get you to take my third cousin twice removed who I might see once every few years, Conall, you’ll try to get one of my kids. And, let’s be real, since you have the most power in this situation, you’ll probably fucking win. “He who has the sword makes the rules”- NOT an official medieval Irish legal statement, but it might as well be. Now, it should be emphasized that hostages were HIGHLY respected and treated well, there was no particular stigma against someone who was a hostage at some point, and you do have accounts of hostages eating at the king’s table, in a position that denotes a degree of intimacy and companionship. And a couple who are brutally executed or maimed when their kings broke the terms of the agreement, but, hey, only a 2% murder rate or so; very good for the times. It could be that the king’s son had a role when it came to making sure the hostages were cared for. But there’s not been all that much work done on it and a lot of this is being remembered second hand from a PhD student in our department who did a STELLAR lecture on the topic; if and when he decides to formally publish it, I’ll probably make a big deal over it. Because….this shit is IMPORTANT. 

This is also why it’s Niall of the Nine Hostages. Because that’s how many peoples he extracted hostages from, that is a sign of his power as a king. You could NOT be king of Ireland without hostages. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Like, how are you going to be sure that your supporters are going to stick with you? And even if they do, where’s the signs of your authority? Why do you expect anyone to take you seriously? 

So, a king of Ireland’s reign would be held together by a similar system, whether it’s provincial or the famous ardri. A high king would take hostages from their client kings as a way of showing off their power and authority, and they would probably show them off when making a circuit of their territory. Your ancestor would definitely have had a group of hostages taken from the athech-thúatha, or client peoples. The Triads put it slightly more succinctly: “[220] Three things that constitute a king: a contract with other kings, the feast of Tara, abundance during his reign.” 

Now, again, this is an idealized literary context, but we’ve discussed the first one, the contractural nature. The feis Temro, or the Feast of Tara, was something that a High King of Ireland HAD to do as a way of securing his reign, and in the early days at least it seemed to involve some sort of marriage/sexual ritual with a representative of the goddess of sovereignty, a living embodiment of the land, and it would involve imbibing some sort of drink offered to him by her as well. (This is why Eochaid Airem HAS to marry Étain, because he needs a queen to have his feis Temro and become a king. This is also why Niall of the Nine Hostages secured his reign via sleeping with aforementioned hag.) 

And there were a number of different taboos and responsibilities tied to said kingship. For example, in The Tidings of Conchobar Mac Nessa, it is said that “Now Conchobar himself used to give them the (the feast of) Samaim because of the assembly of the great host. It was needful to provide for the great multitude, because everyone of the Ulstermen who would not come to Emain in Samain lost his senses, and on the morrow his barrow and his grave and his tombstone were placed.” The Adventures of Nera also features Medb and Aillil throwing a feast on the day of Samain for the entirety of the province. Baile in Scáil features Conn rising every day so that he can go onto the ramparts of Tara with his druids and poets to defend it from the possibility of otherworldly attack. Another obligation was “the Prince’s truth,” the idea that the king, when giving out judgements, should be able to INTUIT the true answer. Giving a false judgement = ruin for the land, everything goes to shit, the harvests fails, cattle die, aliens invade (okay….maybe not, but like. it would be cool if they did), the king of Leinster steals your wife, etc. until the bad king is replaced. (It has been SUGGESTED that that might be the reason for some of the bog bodies. Possibly.) He also HAD to go out with a retinue when he was out hunting, a king who didn’t lost his honor price, same as if he’d used an instrument of MANUAL LABOR (the horror, the shock) (Kelly 19). For what it’s worth, I do know of at least one case in….I believe the 16th century where a woman claimed that the king was the father of her child, there was no one who could dispute it since he was alone, he took a shine to the child anyway, and BOOM heir. Which further shows one of the social dangers of a king on his own.

More specific ones to each province are laid out in the Book of Rights, which Myles Dillon did an edition of in “Taboos of the Kings of Ireland”. An example (chosen at random) includes, “The five prohibitions of the king of Munster: to hold a court before celebrating the feast of Loch Lern from one Monday to the next; to spend a wet autumn night before winter in Letrecha, to camp for nine days on the Suir, to hold a meeting at the boundary near Gabruan ; to hear the groans of the women of Mag Feimin in their oppression. And his five prescriptions : to despoil Cruachain at the call of the cuckoo; to burn the Laigin to the north of Gabair; to chant the Passion in Lent at Cashel; to travel over Sliab Cua with a company of fifty after pacifying the south of Ireland; to go with a dark grey army on Tuesday across Mag nAlbe.” 

Either way, in Ye Olde Days, there was definitely an element of protecting the people of the region from the possibility of supernatural attack. That would obviously die down a little with the coming of Christianity, I don’t know whether a king in the 15th century, for example, would be expected to keep to it that rigorously, I lean towards “no” personally since this is generally talked about as an outdated custom, but it remained a popular trope in medieval literature. Dillon himself points out that, given that many of the taboos mentioned in here were only recorded in the 14th century, they were likely considered to be an odd, antiquarian quirk. That being said…..it’s ALL tied into the kingship, the idea of the king being tied to a certain series of obligations, the mutual relationship between king and people. 

Now, if a king failed in his duties and taboos, he could be ousted. Like “you fucked up, buster, get packing.” Some examples of kings who lost their sovereignty include Bres mac Elatha (my BOY, my SON, my ANGEL, my…..little piece of shit), who was satirized by a bard (this is why people REALLY tend to underline the power of bards, because like. This was an ACKNOWLEDGED power of theirs. They were held in a heady mix of respect and fear for this one), Fergus mac Roiche (didn’t lose it because of incompetence per se, but did hand it over to Conchobar, and the men of Ulster, inexplicably, liked Conchobar more, which….their mistake but.), and Congal Cáech (whose bid for king of Tara was, according to legend at least, ruined by an unfortunate bee sting. In his eye. Whether he was actually king of Tara is something that seems to be slightly disputed.) People often will ask me, when I mention how much I love Bres, why I love him so much, and I feel like the answer to that….there are a hundred answers, depending on my mood, and this is NOT a Bres post, but the one most relevant to the overall topic at hand is that he really experienced the full kingship experience: The rise, the fall, the absolute tumultuous political reality of a 9th century king, albeit a fictionalized one. 

Bibliography: 

Carey, John, ‘From David to Labraid: Sacral Kingship and the Emergence of Monotheism in Israel and Ireland’, Approaches to Religion and Mythology in Celtic Studies

Charles-Edwards, T.M., Early Christian Ireland, Cambridge University Press

Dillon, Myles, “Taboos of the Kings of Ireland,” Proceedings of the Royal Irish Academy: Archaeology, Culture, History,Literature, Vol. 54

Jaski, Early Irish Kingship and Succession, Four Courts Press

Kelly, Fergus, A Guide To Early Irish Law, Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies

Mac Cana, Proinsias, Celtic Mythology, Littlehampton Book Services 

Parkes, Peter, ”When Milk Was Thicker Than Water?”, Comparative Studies in Society and History 6.3

#celtic studies #irish mythology #celtic mythology #Anonymous

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

can you recommend some sterek fics that take place while derek is deaged and deaged derek realizes he has feeling for stiles so he tells him but once hes back to his number age he doesn't know how to deal with having told stiles he true feeling or something similar?

Here’s some de-aged Derek! - Anastasia

Little Promises by crossroadswrite

(1/1 I 2,666 I General)

Derek doesn’t really know what happened. He just knows there was a lady and she was pretty but she was also really mean and she was trying to hurt his friends.

“Holy fuck,” Erica mutters and is harshly shushed by Isaac.

“Don’t swear in front of the kid.”

“It’s not a kid,” Erica counters. “It’s just-“

“Derek?”

This Is Your Life, Derek Hale! by PolarisTheYoungWolf

(7/7 I 23,699 I Explicit)

I need more de-aged Derek and pregnant mate Stiles! Can you imagine de-aged teen Derek being told he has a family of his own? Like the baby(babies) are born and he's like that for like...a weekend or maybe even a week or longer. And it's just overwhelming and awesome and funny and teendaddy Derek trying to also be a doting husband/mate and maybe they have to go out...because the babies have chickenpox and they need the pink lotion to help with the itching(Do werewolves get chicken pox? Maybe one of the babies is human and got it in case Were's can't?) and Derek is torn from staying with his pups and getting something that will help their recovery? I dunno...just...de-aged daddy Derek that's mates with Stiles is TOO cute an image!!!!

Just Right Now by FiccinDylan

(5/5 I 31,619 I Explicit)

In the aftermath of the lacrosse field heartbreak, Scott and Stiles spend the day playing video games and trying to get Stiles through his sorrowful valley.

Then, Stiles gets a very interesting visitor...

aka

Stiles gonna get some lovin'!

anything that's dead shall be regrown by blueinkedbones

(24/? I 45,778 I Teen)

“Derek,” the guy with the hands says. He's still got his hands out, kind of reaching, kind of catching, kind of dropping to his sides. His voice is calm, but his eyes are too bright to sell it, and his heartbeat is out of control. “Are you—Do you know who we are?”

Derek swallows, thinks. If this is a treaty thing, another pack thing, why would they care about him? He's not even the alpha-in-training, he's nothing. Mom doesn't even bother explaining most werewolf politics to him. He knows most of it from Laura, Peter, from passing packs who used to think it was cute to tell the youngest beta their complicated histories and have it repeated back to them around still-awkward fangs. Now that's Cora, and not recently, either—She says she's too big to play kid games.

“No,” Derek decides. “Should I?”

I'll be right back (in 24 years) by AnaIsFangirling (Ana_K_Lee)

(35/35 I 48,190 I Teen)

When Derek thought about time travel – and he did, a lot – this was not what he'd had in mind. He'd thought he would see his younger self, tell him to leave Paige alone and NEVER trust Kate Argent. He'd thought he’d get to come back once that was done and everything would be perfect. He never imagined having to relive his entire life.

Age Defining Hale by TyJax_Fanfiction (TyJax_EeOwen)

(21/21 I 55,327 I Teen)

“Well, Deaton’s the one that knows about this kind of stuff, he researched everything when it happened the first time,” Scott answered and looked between everyone in the room, which consisted of Scott, Stiles, Braeden and mini Derek. “But he’s MIA right now. We’ll have to wait until he gets back,”

“Until then... we’ll have to keep an eye on you,” Stiles added to Scott’s sentence. “You might change back at some point and one of us will have to explain,”

“He’ll have to stay with one of us,” the Alpha mentioned and instantly looked at him, like he was the better option.

“No, no way, my dad’ll freak out if he sees Derek walking around the house, especially if he’s young again. Hell, he’d give me the talk again if he saw ‘that’ in the kitchen making coffee in the morning,” when he said ‘that’ he gestured to Derek’s more than gorgeous, slightly younger body. Seriously, puberty was incredible for this guy. “And I don’t have a guest room, so it’s either the couch or my room and I don’t think I’ll be able to live with waking up to that face every morning! I’ll die of hormone inflammation!”

One Stupid Mistake that Changes Everything by Kikileduc

(12/? I 60,060 I Not Rated)

Shortly after the events of season 3b, everyone is recovering. Stiles feels guilty over the loss of Allison and Aiden. Scott can't look at his friend. Lydia isn't talking to him. Isaac, Ethan, Malia, and Kira are all dealing in their own way. Derek took off again.

Fast forward to two months later, things are much the same for Stiles, except his father insisted he get checked out again as the nogitsune had tampered with his son's tests...

The results aren't good.

Stiles returns to school to find the pack hovering around a de-aged and cluesless Derek and suddenly finds himself on the outside of the pack's happenings.

To top it all off his new doctor is a little— weird, to say the least.

Can Stiles figure out what happened to Derek and help reverse it while dealing with his own personal issues? How will the pack feel when they need the spastic teen, only to find him missing? And, what is really going on in Beacon Hills? Can they come together and solve the mystery in time???

"This is what defines you, Stiles. The unexpected." by limesnapdragon

(32/32 I 77,464 I Explicit)

"If someone had told him two weeks ago he would be on illegal drugs and hanging out with Derek Hale, he would probably have punched them. Life was funny sometimes."

Stiles is about to turn seventeen and present, find out whether he's an alpha, a beta or an omega. A lot is riding on it and Stiles is nervous as hell. He hadn't expected Derek Hale, of all people, to be helping him out, but when you're in deep shit and the guy's handing you a paddle, what else are you going to do?

A Wolf In Wolf's Clothing by alexenglish

(8/8 I 81,325 I Explicit)

The pack of Beacon Hills' past transgressions are about to converge on them, and Derek stumbles out of the forest with no recent memories and straight into a pack he doesn't know, with an alpha and an anchor he can't possibly remember.

The New Hellmouth: The Benefactor by iKnightWriter

(25/25 I 109,430 I Teen)

Scott, Stiles, Landon and Kira return to a new semester of school with more human worries than supernatural, while also trying to help their new friend, Micah, integrate back into society. But Kate Argent’s surprising resurrection brings a new threat to Beacon Hills along with the emergence of another mysterious enemy known simply as The Benefactor.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #deaged!derek #anon #Anonymous

[bigskydreaming]

Anyone else familiar with the Chronicles of Amber? Its one of my earliest and favorite series of books, and I’ve been rereading it recently and LOLing at how I never before connected my fondness for it with my fondness for the Batfamily. The royal family of Amber is pretty much the only family in fiction that’s consistently more dysfunctional than the Batfamily.....occasional murder attempts by siblings who then go on to get over it and become BFFs included. Only they’re more like the Batfamily at their most dysfunctional....then taken and dialed up to eleven hundred, lmfao. 

Ugh, I kinda love these immortal, fucked up reality-walking sorcerers and their constant scheming and backstabbing and shifting alliances, not always just because they’re all vying for the throne or backing different siblings who are vying for the throne, but also just sometimes because their dad loved so and so more than them.

Plus, unlike with Bruce, where there’s at least competing takes on whether or not he’s a total bastard and responsible for much of the division within his own family, with the Chronicles of Amber, that’s not really a factor. There’s not really an alternative take to “Oberon was a fucking bastard and responsible for much of the division within his own family, so fuck that guy.”

I kinda want to expand on this and the Amber family tree and which of them are like which Batfam members and why, but I don’t know if that would mean anything to anyone lol, because I honestly don’t know how familiar people are with this series.

(LOL, I’m currently cackling because I just got to a part I’d tooooootally forgotten about, where Flora pulls a fucking hand grenade out of her purse and hands it to her nephew Merlin, who looks at her like ‘wtf’? Now, Flora is one of the youngest members of Corwin’s generation - Corwin being Merlin’s father and the narrator of the first five books - although that still means Flora is probably about a thousand years old herself. But she tends to be regarded by most of her siblings and people in general as just the vapid, air-headed ‘beauty’ of the family who mostly is just concerned with having a good time, living a lavish lifestyle, and enjoying herself. She tends to always end up on the winning side of her siblings’ various power struggles though, because she’s got a keen sense of feeling where the wind is blowing and allying herself accordingly - she doesn’t have much interest in vying for the same kind of power most of her siblings are always after, she just likes to be comfortable and prefers to back whomever she thinks having in charge will let her remain the most comfortable, allowing her to live her life the way she enjoys and fuck everything else, pretty much. Anyway, the thing to remember about this family is they’re all immortal and basically superhuman, and most of them are experts at all kinds of weapons and fighting styles, not to mention sorcerers and practitioners of various magical arts. Then here you’ve got ‘ditzy, air-headed party girl Flora’.....and she just fucking pulls a fucking hand grenade out of her purse and hands it to her nephew. And when he’s like wtf, why do you even have that? Her response? LOLOLOL. She just shrugs and says "Sweetie, in all the centuries I’ve been alive, I’ve yet to face a problem where I didn’t think ‘this wouldn’t be a problem if I just had a hand grenade.’ And so, I just make sure I always have a hand grenade on me somewhere.” And that’s Flora for you, in a nutshell. LMFAO).

Anyway.

Basic premise of the series is that in the beginning, there was one world and one world only, a confusing, shifting place of dizzying physics and magic called the Courts of Chaos, the creation of one of the two prime figures of the universe - the Serpent, whose opposing counterpart is the Unicorn. The one representing chaos, the other order. Though an important distinction is that they’re not meant to be God and the Devil, or any form of Good vs Evil....just Order vs Chaos. And sometimes Order is a tyrannical fucking asshole, and sometimes Chaos is in the mood to be helpful and kind. Its all relative and always changing.

At a certain point long ago, a member of one of the ancient royal houses of Chaos, Dworkin Baromin, came into contact with the Unicorn and its notions and representation of Order, a previously unconsidered opposite to the Chaos that before that was all Dworkin or anyone else had ever known. With the Unicorn’s backing, Dworkin left the Courts of Chaos and went as far away from it as he could, and then using a combination of his own sorcery and things the Unicorn taught him, Dworkin created a magical labyrinth called the Pattern, a sorcerous construct through which he imposed Order upon the shapeless, formless Chaos around him, and created a whole new world called Amber - though Amber for the most part consists just of its titular city and its surrounding environment. Its not a world in the traditional sense, more just that there’s not really anything else to call it, since like the Courts of Chaos it kinda just....exists unto itself.

But for reasons known only to the Serpent and the Unicorn, with not even the greatest minds of Amber or the Courts ever truly understanding the mechanics of how or why this happened.....in the act of drawing the Pattern, creating Order out of Chaos, Dworkin also incited the creation of an infinite number of other universes that within the series are called ‘Shadows’ by the royals of both Amber and the Courts, because these infinite universes are all said to be the shadows cast by the world of Amber when it came into being.....they’re all the worlds Amber COULD have been, all the forms of Order it COULD have taken, rather than the specific shape it took from the endless potential held within the Chaos it was formed from. And all these other universes are real, they exist, but the royals of Amber and the Courts tend to consider them.....largely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Ever since the Pattern’s creation, Dworkin’s descendants aka the royal family of Amber, and the nobility of the Courts have been locked in an eternal, never-ending power struggle between Order and Chaos, each vying to become the dominant force in the cosmos once and for all. The Courts want to eliminate their counterpart and undo what Dworkin wrought, return things to what they’d been before Dworkin ‘betrayed them,’ and Amber wants to....well, okay, the royal family of Amber tend to be the central figures of the series as it follows first Corwin’s and then Merlin’s adventures, so its most accurate to say that there’s very little consistency to what ‘they’ want overall, lol.

Anyway, all of that was countless millennia ago, at least as far as Amber is concerned, because time runs differently in Amber, the Courts and across all Shadows. Each universe runs according to its own clock. So for instance, Earth and ‘our’ universe exists and is considered to be one of these Shadows......even though this universe is billions of years old. In Amber time, it hasn’t been anywhere close to billions of years since Dworkin first drew the Pattern....untold millennia, its said, but even the royal family acknowledges that time is a fickle thing from universe to universe. Which is part of why they don’t consider themselves or the Courts’ royals to be gods, the creators of all universes....that’s kinda what I meant when I said they consider the infinite other universes to be largely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Its not that they don’t matter, or that they don’t tend to spend a lot of time in various of these Shadows, its more that like.....according to their own history and mythology, all these universes came into being in large part BECAUSE of their family, Dworkin, the Pattern....but other than that, their creation and existence has very little to actually DO with them. It was....a side-effect, that wasn’t really either expected, wanted, or understood, so its just....one of those things that just is the way it is. They consider their family to be the creators of Amber, and thus their ‘divine mandate’ to rule it......it is what Dworkin intended it to be, the Order he pictured when he drew it out of Chaos. Everything else.....is nothing to do with what he intended to create, so as much as their own history claims its because of them, they don’t tend to be that interested in CLAIMING any of these other universes as like, theirs, or their creations.

BUT one power unique to the royal family of Amber and the nobility of the Courts, is that they can Shadow-walk......they can move between these various universes as easily as just walking from one place to the next. They’re reality walkers....upon reaching adulthood, each of Dworkin’s descendants do something called ‘walking the Pattern,’ like physically make their way across the Pattern he inscribed in a labyrinth he later built the palace atop of....and only his descendants can actually walk the Pattern and live. Others usually die in the attempt. But upon reaching the center of the Pattern, something about the act of walking it and ‘attuning’ themselves to it, then forever grants that person the ability to move freely from one universe to the next. The Courts have their own version of the Pattern - though a twisting, chaotic kind of maze unlike its clear form - they call the Logrus, and it empowers them to walk through Shadows the same way as the Amberites do.

So all of that began untold time before the beginning of the series, because the royal bloodlines of both Amber and the Courts are immortal in the sense that they can be killed, are as vulnerable to that as anyone - well aside from power and skills they draw from their various forms of sorcery, derived from the Primal Pattern of Order and its opposite number, the Logrus of Chaos - so they’re not unkillable, but unless they’re killed, they can pretty much live forever. They don’t age past adulthood, don’t get sick and are superhumanly strong to various and largely undescribed degrees - like Corwin in one book kinda effortlessly throws a car while he’s on Earth, and he’s not surprised to be able to do this and is pretty matter-of-fact about it, but so matter-of-fact, that such feats are kinda rarely mentioned, not really a big deal to the characters so not something they focus on as much as their actual fighting prowess or sorcery. 

Most of the main characters are all said to be centuries old even by their own universe’s timetable, and members of their previous generations are millennia old. So ages past, Dworkin made the Pattern, founded Amber and eventually disappeared and was succeeded by his son Oberon, who is in turn the father of the current Royal Family. And Oberon, in the thousands of years he ruled Amber before HE mysteriously disappeared, not long before the start of the first book, with his disappearance being what sparks the major plotlines, such as the war of succession that breaks out after he’s gone.....well like I said, he’s kinda a douche. No two ways about. Most of his kids hate him but also like....were desperate for his love and approval too, when he deigned to dole it out. 

But a huge part of why there even WAS a war of succession is that well.....dude was a douche, and did NOT make it easy to follow a chain of succession and decide who should take the throne after him. Probably because he half expected it to never matter, as he intended to live forever, lol. But it complicated things considerably in his absence, considering that he’s said to have had 47 kids, though most are never named or mentioned in the series. In fact, Corwin, the narrator of the first five books, mentions that he’s only ever even known of fifteen brothers and eight sisters, with six of those brothers and four of those sisters either dead or missing or disappeared to go live in some distant Shadow centuries ago. The other twenty or so kids Oberon had were likely the products of affairs that he at least knew about and kept some kind of eye on, but only twenty-four of his kids were ever actually claimed by him.

Course, remember the immortality thing.....its not like Oberon had 47 kids all within just a normal human lifetime and with just a handful of partners.....we’re talking about 47 kids spread out over several thousand years, with the thirteen currently known and living members of the royal family as of Oberon’s disappearance all having been born within a span of at least two thousand years. One of the pretty interesting things about the family’s dynamics IMO was the fact that like.....none of them ever referred to each other as anything other than just siblings, even though technically many of them are half-siblings, with different mothers. Given that only Dworkin’s descendants and the royal bloodlines of the Courts he originally came from are actually immortal, most of the women Oberon married or had affairs with were mortal, with normal human lifespans. 

So the interesting part about this is that within the thirteen members of Corwin’s generation that he interacts with most......they’re not really all that focused on the fact that many of them are technically half-siblings BUT most of them tend to be closest with the ones who are their full siblings, and share the same mother. However, this doesn’t always or even usually tend to be because they consider any of their other siblings any LESS their brother and sister, just because they have a different mother.....its more an age thing. The siblings with the same mothers all tended to be born relatively close together, whereas some of their other siblings were already centuries old and off doing their own thing before they were born. So the ones born of the same mothers usually were the one who actually grew up together....and then they only really got to know and started interacted with their much older siblings once they were adults themselves.....in turn, the same being true of their much younger siblings interacting with them only once they reached adulthood, often centuries later.

And this family is just so. So. Petty as fuck. LMFAO. And they all get it from their dad.

Like, the oldest living child of Oberon is Benedict, his eldest son by his first wife Cymnea. Which would make him the clear heir to the throne, except well. Oberon was a douche. At some point, the two younger sons he had with Cymnea, Osric and Finndo, conspired to take the throne from him most likely due to his Douchery, and Oberon sent them to the front-lines of a war from which they conveniently never returned. Which needless to say, caused problems between him and Cymnea.....to which Oberon’s galaxy brain response was to not just divorce her.....but also to declare his marriage to her entirely null and void....which retroactively erased Benedict’s claim to the throne and made him technically illegitimate.

And this wouldn’t really be a problem, because while Benedict is stern, humorless and pretty much just obsessed with honing himself into the greatest swordsmaster and tactician that ever lived in any universe....he’s also unfailingly fair, and pretty much the ONLY member of the family that ALL his siblings like enough that they’d agree to respect his claim to the throne if he wanted it. Except....he doesn’t. At all. He hates politics and thinks all of that is bullshit and usually just fucks off to various shadows to emerge as some mysterious war leader fighting for the little guy, only coming back to Amber when there’s some family crisis or they’re in a war themselves, because Benedict might hate their bullshit, but above all else he is a Dutiful Son and he always Does the Right Thing, no matter how he feels about it. So....they call, he shows up. Usually in a perpetually sour mood, but whatever, he’s there, who does he need to fight.

He’s said to only have ever been in love once, with the only person to ever defeat him in battle....Lintra the Hell-Maid, a warrior princess of one of the Courts of Chaos’ noble houses. They had a brief romance during one of the few cessations in hostility between the Courts and Amber, but then conflict resumed and they both sided with their families....and faced each other in battle again. And this time, Benedict won, and killed her in their battle, though not before she cut off his right arm. Various siblings have over the centuries offered him their aid in using magic or technology to give him a new one but he refuses and just says he’s still a better swordsman with one arm than anyone else is with two. 

Then the next oldest living child is Eric, Oberon’s oldest son with his second wife, Faielle. Which would make Eric the legitimate heir, except for one little problem: Oberon was a douchebag. Because although he did end up marrying Faielle, he had an affair with her before he actually divorced Cymnea, which Eric was a product of. So Eric is the oldest son of Oberon’s first lawful wife, after he declared his marriage with Cymnea retroactively null....it just doesn’t matter, because he’s technically not legitimate because he was born before his parents’ legitimately married. Which means that Eric’s younger full brother Corwin, born after they were married, is technically the oldest living child with a fully uncontested legitimate claim to the throne. Which Eric HATES him for. And Corwin hates him for, well, being hated since he was born.

And Eric can kinda be a prick, but he’s pretty decent in most regards which means he’s fairly well-liked and respected by the rest of their siblings.....except for those who like Corwin more, because although for most of his early life, Corwin was legendarily reckless and irresponsible, he was well....a lot more likable in most peoples’ eyes than Eric. So they’re incredibly close in age, were raised together, but have hated each other for as long as they’ve been alive. Centuries before the series began, they apparently - or so Eric claims - decided to settle things between them with a duel, once and for all.....and Eric won, with Corwin’s injuries from their duel leaving him in a coma, which he eventually awoke from with brain damage that caused amnesia for a few hundred years. And Eric left him on Earth and asked Flora to keep an eye on him, and like, hilariously doesn’t get why Corwin’s so pissed at him later because he’s like BUT I LEFT YOU ALIVE DOES THAT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU? 

And Corwin’s like....uh....not really bruh. And Eric’s like “Ugh, I just can’t win. I didn’t even KILL you because you’re my BROTHER, and yet Dad and everyone else all just assumed I killed you anyway, what the fuck is up with that?” And Corwin’s just like gee, I can’t imagine why anyone would doubt you when you said we totally agreed to duel to the death but also you totally didn’t kill me, you’re right, that’s so weird. I mean, I guess you could have just told someone where to find me on Earth and then that would have proven you were telling the truth. 

And Eric’s response was like: “Umm, no, because then they would have brought you back to Amber, cured your amnesia, and then you would be back to being my main rival for the crown, whereas you being out of the picture is what let me seize the crown once Dad disappeared? Duh? Like think, little brother, you sound so dumb right now. How hard did I hit you, I thought you were all better now, ugh.”  

LOL. And then Faielle’s youngest child with Oberon was Deirdre, who is known as the most beloved of the royals. Everyone loved Deirdre, pretty much, because Deirdre was caring, no-nonsense, and a terror in battle with her weapon of choice, a battle-axe as big as she was. Basically the only person who didn’t like Deirdre was Eric, and that was really just because she and Corwin were as tight from day one as Eric and Corwin were mortal enemies, like, Corwin’s uncontested favorite sibling, and Eric couldn’t stand that. And Deirdre couldn’t stand Eric, because he hated Corwin, the big brother she adored.

So when Corwin gets his memory back, Deirdre’s the first sibling he actually seeks out. And he’s like “Get in loser. We’re going to Amber to kick King Eric the Assmunch off the throne he STOLE from me like a THIEF. Bring your axe, we’re probably gonna have to kill a whole bunch of people first though cuz you know he’s gonna be a douche about and be like nuh-uh, you can’t have it, its mine. Ugh. Why is he just the worst.”

And Deirdre’s just like “You had me at bring your axe.”

And about a century after Faielle died, Oberon remarried again, a red-head sorceress named Clarissa from a Shadow with their own unique forms of magic. They had three kids, Brand, Fiona and Bleys, who are usually referred to by their siblings as ‘the redheads,’ and they all grew up super close, always likely to take each other’s side before anyone outside their little trio, and the three of them are all accomplished sorcerers, easily the most powerful in the family. And they’ve all been pissed at dear old dad for centuries because his divorce from Clarissa was messy as heeeeeeeeell. Like.....he had his next child, Llewella, while he was still married to Clarissa and cheating on her....and when she got pissed at this, Oberon the douche’s righteous response was “Oh yeah? Well guess what? Even though she’s technically illegitimate, I’m going to formally adopt Llewella as legitimately part of the chain of succession JUST to piss you off even MORE!”

And Clarissa’s kids, the redheads, did NOT like that. Even though ironically, without that move, they probably all would have been inclined to support one of the others’ claims to the throne, that spiting of their mother, even centuries after their mother died, had them so eternally pissed off at their dad that they were like NOPE! Doesn’t matter that we’re way down the chain of succession and don’t even really WANT the damn throne, we want one of us to get it anyway just to make sure that no ‘legitimate’ heir of Dad’s gets it instead, because fuck that dude.

Which led to them all conspiring together to put Brand on the throne, and led to ummm.....Fiona attempting to kill Corwin once or twice as she saw him as the biggest obstacle to Brand getting the throne. Which did not endear her to him. But she is regarded as the smartest and most dangerous of all of them, as well as the best with magic. So after Fiona and Bleys turn on Brand, because they found out he decided that if he was going to try and be king, why not go even bigger and try and destroy the Pattern and draw a new one of his own devising and literally remake the universe in his own image - to which Fiona and Bleys were like, YIKES, when did that become the plan.....

Well, Fiona wasn’t about to work with Eric, whom she found unendurable, so she reluctantly sought out Corwin for his help against Brand instead, as she thought him the lesser of two evils out of those who might actually be somewhat helpful in opposing Brand. And then she was basically like: “Huh. This is so weird. I thought I was going to hate this, but you’re surprisingly likable when I’m not trying to kill you.”

And Corwin was like, gee, you’re swell, Fi.

But its also why Fiona and Corwin’s son Merlin are really close and she becomes his mentor and tutor in all things magic - she has a soft spot for Merlin because she feels bad for how treated him until she sided with him against Brand. And Corwin’s like “I do not know how I feel about this information, but I’m leaning towards I Do Not Care For It.”

And Bleys is like, this charming boisterous guy most people get along with, who is a warrior-sorcerer equally dangerous as a fighter and with magic. And unlike Fiona, he’s always kinda tried to buddy up with Corwin, and acts all hurt whenever Corwin’s like....what are you doing, dude. Eventually, they kinda become close after Fiona and Bleys officially turn on Brand and reveal the conspiracy they’d spent centuries building with him, and Bleys is like see, I don’t get why we couldn’t have been like this all along. Corwin’s just like, I wanna say it has something to do with you not really objecting to Fi’s constant attempts to assassinate me, so the two of you could put our ‘wants to destroy the fucking universe’ brother on the throne instead of me, just to spite Dad, who none of us even like all that much and is probably dead anyway and thus doesn’t actually care.

And Bleys is all: “Uh....I don’t really get what that has to do with anything, but whatever I guess. Let’s have another beer, and maybe start a fight that gets us thrown out of not just this tavern, but the whole city, no, country, no - universe! It’ll be fun!”

Also, Bleys has a tendency to fake his own death a lot. Its kinda a thing. He has Reasons. He thinks. 

And then of course there’s Llewella and Julian, Caine and Gerard and that’s not even getting into Dalt and Coral and the weird bromance rivalry that Merlin and Rinaldo have but I have no idea if anyone is even reading this and have run out of energy slash focus sooooo lol. The end.

[ghostmartyr]

SnK 118 Thoughts

Zeke gets shot, Falco gets a hug, everyone who makes sense is out of jail, and for a brief time, everyone is united in being perfectly fine fucking Marley right the fuck up.

Minus the characters who live there.

But all told, for the first time in months, it’s a happy chapter. :)

:)

:)

In a rare turn of events, I think I’m going to specifically aim to talk about things out of order. I say this with no real sense of how I usually construct these posts, I just make blanket assumptions about how they’ve probably gone in the past without corroboration.

SO WE’RE GOING TO TALK ABOUT CUTE KIDDOS HAVING FEELINGS AND BEING DUMB.

The ones who aren’t legal adults, to be clear on the definition of ‘kiddo’ as used here.

Falco.

Gabi.

You get to go back to the hellscape that is your brainwashed existence, I’m so happy for you both.

The complications of Falco and Gabi fighting so hard to return to a world that doesn’t give a damn about them are things that... honestly, I just don’t want to do that this month. It’s a disaster. Marley’s fucked. Paradis is fucked. No one cares about the right things. Every decision is going to blow up in everyone’s face.

But Falco gets a hug from his big brother.

The youngest characters we’ve followed through this are treated with kindness.

This whole chapter is a breath of relief in the sea of unending horrors that we’ve been dragged through to get here. More on the rest later, but for the moment, we’ve got the two little ones.

Nile doesn’t even hesitate to treat Falco as a child before an enemy.

In the outside world, a man Falco tries to help is scared of being touched by him because he’s an Eldian.

Sasha’s family is still worried about the two little Marleyans they picked up and lived with for a time.

After first contact, no one needs to tell Colt not to shoot Nile. He calls the man who hands his brother over “the enemy,” and is shocked by Gabi’s actions, but Colt runs with Gabi and Falco without looking back.

Nile doesn’t follow.

Nile’s the sort of man who looks at Falco and thinks this assault might be about saving a little boy.

Colt’s the sort of young man who thinks Falco being someone who might be affected by Zeke’s scream is somehow relevant to whether or not it happens.

This story, lately, has been relentlessly cruel.

Gabi and Falco run away from home on a suicide mission to avenge and protect their loved ones after they witness the ruthless destruction of their home. Gabi watches people trying to protect her get gunned down. Falco, the kind boy who delivers letters for a wounded soldier, is the spark that enables the entire tragedy.

They reach Paradis, end up in jail because no one knows what to do with them, escape, and have to live under the constant pressure of their guilt and worldview being challenged. The destruction of Reiner’s psyche that takes a sustained undercover operation over the course of years is inflicted on Gabi in weeks, and Falco has to watch the girl he likes suffer over crimes that he aided.

Gabi watches Falco help her over and over again, and when things really start crashing down, there’s not a thing she can do for him.

They’re separated from everything they know and everyone they love, and then each other.

They make their way back to each other.

The world looks at these two tiny, traumatized children, and refuses to let anything happen to them. The world takes Gabi’s hate and uncomplicated joy in being a good Warrior and deconstructs it with kindness. The world takes a little boy like Falco, who only ever tried to help people, and lets him find his brother.

The reveal of Falco being the one who helps Eren isn’t a mark of betrayal. It’s a shared bond of pain that comes from good intentions being unfairly manipulated by people who didn’t care to be kind.

So they’re at least kind to each other.

In a tiny pocket of all this violence, things aren’t complicated. There’s a little girl and a little boy, and they deserve safety. A child who grew up in an internment camp designed to manufacture and slaughter Eldian children dreams of a world where the girl he likes won’t die, and they’ll get married and be happy.

Falco has always been kind and stable to the point of parody, but that’s honestly fine. Good. That should be allowed to exist, even if it doesn’t make total sense. The good things should be allowed to survive.

Gabi’s arc here ends with the realization that her hurt isn’t all there is to the world. Other people--other sides have their own, and they aren’t evil for that. They aren’t devils.

Falco’s trip to Paradis ends with him finally confessing why he followed Gabi to begin with.

There is something so sweet to the way Falco describes it. I hope it’s a faithful translation, because it’s my favorite thing this series has done in some time.

It isn’t just about Gabi not dying. It isn’t just about her having a long life. It isn’t just about them getting married.

Falco’s dream is for the girl he likes to be happy forever. He likes her, but the core of his dream is that she’ll live as long as she wants, and she’ll be happy through all of it.

Nothing Falco has seen in this world should give him hope for any of that.

He hopes for it anyway.

And Gabi rips off his armband.

The Yeagerists’ perverse mirror of what Marley has always done to them--what Gabi has accepted into her life in her fierce chase of changing it--and Gabi rips it off.

Their world isn’t kind. It’s cruel, and harsh.

People are kind to them.

That’s the only thing that saves them.

Naturally, it’ll be devastating when the bad things keep on coming for them, and no, sorry, this is not their finale, it’s just the finale of all the potential happiness they can have, but for right now.

For right now, kids shouldn’t be on the battlefield. So everyone fighting tries to get them out of it.

Look.

Standards.

We spend time with characters with standards this chapter.

It’s. It’s so strange. What is this.

Also, the fact that our time is spent on this instead of letting Eren and Zeke touch makes me astoundingly nervous for what’s coming next. There are very. I don’t want to say few. Uh. There are, thanks to the Founding Titan, potentially many ways for things to end not poorly.

I would say the likelihood of any of them traveling smoothly is. nil.

For instance, the entire scheme Armin concocts to explain away Eren’s behavior in this! Sounds good, sounds nice. Sounds destructive, sounds impulsive. Sounds vaguely understandable by the horrifying standards we’ve come to expect.

Sounds okay. Ish.

Still involves Eren sparking a national incident that brings a big army into their island so they can kill them all using a destructive power we’re only kind of confident in him using safely.

With the side effect of all his friends being in the splash zone.

I realize that even Armin’s kind of on the fence on that making real sense, but it’s not a bad explanation for everything. Eren’s backed into a corner when Yelena does her reveal. He’s held hostage by it, but hey, by playing along, he’s found a way to make things okay.

Even in that elaborate AU Armin came up with on the spot--

--things remain less than good.

Unless we consider most of the MPs and other top brass, the majority of veterans, and assorted civilians turning into titans and possibly dying--unless we consider all of that a good thing.

There’s a school of thought where Eren can just magic touch everything back to Okay, but the levels of Not Okay being pounced in with reckless abandon are a bit. uh. geez, what’s the word...

Bad?

There is a very good chance that this is all very bad, and running might be in their best interests.

In the non-AU version, all of Eren’s friends are scrambling to keep him alive because he has fucked them all over so horribly that literally their only chance at not dying slow (or very fast), brutal deaths comes from protecting the fucker who fucked them over.

And Armin, realizing this, digs down deep to try and find some of that good ol’ fashioned Friendship Power to bullshit all of them into agreeing to this plan of attack for reasons beyond generously optimistic pessimism.

While kind of wondering if Eren maybe wasn’t kidding about killing everyone.

Armin’s whole role in this chapter is embracing a truth that he secretly thinks might be a lie so that his friends have a prayer of feeling positive about this fuckery.

You’re trying so hard, Armin.

I am so sorry for you.

And Connie.

Like, good grief. Falco gets a hug. Someone needs to give Connie a hug. There’s been a serious shortage of Connie hugs since Sasha died, and I realize how that works, but it should really go the other way around.

Realistically, I am so happy that Connie’s the one who’s at his breaking point. He’s always been a team player, and over and over, it turns out that the people he thought had his back weren’t on his team. He’s a simple guy. This is a simple problem.

So, simply, fuck everyone who has anything to do with it.

Connie is Best Boy.

Onyankopon’s okay too.

This is the meta commentary on Yelena qualifying as a serial killer that we deserve. She is so great. All of you new characters with your new disasters are so great.

It’s a little on the nose, because bless this series, it is not subtle about most things, but thank you Onyankopon for injecting some hecking positivity in this here jail cell.

The concept of a future has been humanity’s fight all along. A better world.

Then Paradis met the rest of the world, and was all, “o fuck.”

“o fuck,” has interlaced every inch of the plot in the current day. Whatever hope there was, Eren’s decisions in Liberio tarnished them, and the rise of the Yeagerists threw it into the trash.

This chapter is kind enough to bring it back.

This is what the heroes of this world do.

They look at the impossible odds, and choose to fight. Because to do otherwise means that this is the way the world stays. This is what they’re left with, and that is unacceptable.

We’ve strayed a bit from that point, lately. It’s a relief to have it back in plainspeak.

Then there’s Mikasa, and. Aaaaah.

Armin only truly starts championing the possibility that Eren can still be a force for good when Mikasa comes back to his words about her Ackerman blood. Really, I think he does it for both of them. He refuses to believe Mikasa’s life doesn’t belong to her, so Eren has to be lying, so things have to be salvageable.

Mikasa knows him too well. She knows there’s room for doubt.

She leaves her scarf behind.

Mikasa is someone of great principle. She has a deep sense of responsibility that has been present from day one. She takes charge of Eren. She takes charge of other recruits. She feels the weight of the entire world, and fights for it. Her focus on her family has never made the burdens everyone shoulders disappear in her mind.

I don’t think she has a better explanation for why she can’t let go of Eren than the one he’s provided.

He’s killed children. He, by Connie’s word, laughs when he’s told about Sasha’s death. He abandons them and runs off on his own, risking all of their lives. He spits hateful vitriol at them and throws them in prison, where they would have likely died without someone going behind his back.

How can wanting to protect someone like that be natural?

Her very first argument to Eren is that he wrapped the scarf around her. When the world went cold, he brought warmth and a home back to her.

How does that compare to what he’s done recently?

How could she feel warm at all when she just watched Eren murder people? How, when by his command, she killed for the first time?

She has a genetic predisposition to comply with something like that.

Doesn’t that make more sense than loving this monster?

Children are dead.

Eren killed them.

Her first instinct is still to protect him.

That can’t possibly be right.

Mikasa doesn’t defend monsters. She slays them. That’s who she is.

If she’s defending this one, there must be a reason. Something deeper than just loving her family with all her heart.

To which I’ll say, for my personal stance... sorry, Mikasa. Your love does run that deep. It’s always been at war with your principles. Protecting Eren and Armin at the expense of everything else has always put you in pain. Being willing to let Armin go during the Serum Bowl is almost as agonizing to her as watching him die.

Mikasa’s strongly held principles and strongly held love have always been in conflict, but in the background. In side remarks about overprotectiveness, interspersed with her guilt over what that overprotectiveness has led to.

Eren’s cruelty gives her the excuse.

Here’s how she can be both; one isn’t real.

Whether she fully believes it or not, it’s what makes sense, for a person like her. She shouldn’t still care so much for the fate of this monster. Caring so much is why Reiner is still alive. Caring so much is why Bertolt lived long enough to char Armin to a crisp.

Mikasa learns. Always.

She should be fast enough at taking down the monsters now that they can’t hurt anyone first.

In case I’m not putting this clearly enough, Mikasa is better than anyone in the history of ever, to the point that even she can’t believe how strongly she hold on to things.

And my last comment on the chapter is that Yelena and Armin’s song and dance continues to be firing at max cringe on every cylinder, one of you drop the pleasantries and pull a gun already.

It’s funny, but in the way Jean pretending to be a knife-wielding maniac is funny.

Just stab each other like normal enemies. Please.

So since things are hitting the boiling point here, I guess next month we’re doing a shift in perspective?

Levi and Hange try out their Super Mario 64 skills in not drowning. The results my surprise you.

Nothing good can come from any of this, but you know? Falco and Gabi got to be cute. Plus Colt and Falco hugged. It could and has been worse.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 118 #Gabi Braun #Falco Grice #Mikasa Ackerman #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #spoilers #tl;dr #chapter post

[panikki]

So Many Ways to be Wicked

The Core Four are heading to Auradon, but not for the reasons their parents think. Sure, they'll be grabbing the wand but it definitely won't be for a bunch of washed up has-beens. With powerful children of the villains by their side, Mal, Jay, Carlos, and Evie will take over Auradon. Long Live Evil

~~~~~

My first fanfiction for this fandom. I initially posted it to AO3 but I thought maybe I should try posting it here for feedback.

Pairings: Jay/Carlos, Mal/Evie, minor Ben/Mal

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Child abuse, implied and referenced rape/non-con (nothing detailed at all), possibly a panic attack but I can’t remember, gore and blood later on

No beta, we die like socially anxious nerds who don’t know how to find betas.

Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

Maleficent stood tall and proud in front of the four children, a smirk on her thin lips. The woman was thin, even more so than she had been in her glory days. Behind the four children stood three other villains, Grimhilde, Jafar and Cruella de Vil.

“You’ve been summoned to Auradon, as you all know,” Maleficent gestured to the four identical pieces of fancy parchment that had been crumpled and thrown to the ground in anger. “I expect you to retrieve the wand from that disgraceful faerie who protected Cinderella. You will go to Auradon and do anything you must to get me off this Isle. You do not want to know what I will do, what we,” she gestures to the sneering villains around the room, “will do to you should you fail. Dismissed.” Maleficent twirled around, her staff clutched in her hand with Diavolo perched on top. She did not allow anyone to protest, whether it was the children or the adults. She disappeared into a room, slamming the door shut. Instantly, the adults in the room began talking, arguing with each other, although they would never try to argue with Maleficent when she was so obviously on a power trip. The kids were all frozen in place, different thoughts running through their head, although they all were generally the same; what the absolute fuck.

“The mutt will not be going!” Cruella’s shriek shook the teens out of their stupor. They all looked at each other before they all locked eyes onto Carlos, Cruella’s son. Their eyes held well-hidden apologies and anger on behalf of the boy. His dark eyes were blank, freckles standing out against his pale cheeks. “Who would take care of the chores for me? What’s the point in having him if he can’t do something useful?” With long strides, the woman had made her way beside Carlos. She grabbed him by the dark roots of his white hair and yanked. Carlos fell to his knees, though he didn’t struggle against her. The three teens next to him, Jay, Evie, and Mal tensed, knowing if they tried to intervene it would make things worse for the boy. A boiling, dark anger gripped at their hearts at seeing the youngest of their group at the mercy of the madwoman.

“You will not go to Auradon, do you understand me, mutt?” The woman hissed, spit flying into Carlos’ face. Carlos barely flinched, having dissociated a while ago. Like a robot, the boy whispered a quiet ‘yes ma’am’ that satisfied Cruella. She let go of his hair, shaking the clump she had pulled out off of her hand with a sneer. Carlos slumped forward, a hand slowly going to the back of his head. He drew his hand back sharply, though he didn’t make a noise of pain. His fingers came back with a bit of blood on it and he knew without having to look that his friends were livid.

“Jadid cannot go either,” Jafar threw in, always wanting to put in his own two cents. Jay rolled his eyes before turning to face the man, keeping his face carefully blank. Even the slightest twitch of his face could set his father off, yelling and screaming about how Jay was useless, a bastard child with no talent, how everything would be better if Jafar had tossed Jay off the edge of the Isle and let the sharks have at him. “Jay has tasks that need to be fulfilled, my shop needs to be stocked. Even if his wares are abysmal and disappointing, much like himself.” Jafar sneered at the tall boy, crossing his thin arms over his chest.

“Well, Genevieve will be happy to go. She’s a princess, that is where she belongs. With a handsome prince that she can marry. Not too mention the amount of money she will inherit once that handsome prince dies suddenly,” Grimhilde smiled wide, a faraway look in her dark eyes. Evie walked to her mother’s side, her mother grabbing her slender wrist.

“Yes, and once he is out of the picture, I would send for you, mother,” Evie said in a gentle voice. Grimhilde’s smile grew impossibly wider and her long nails cut into Evie’s wrist.

“That’s ENOUGH,” Mal shouted, fed up with everyone talking and arguing over something that could not be changed. Mal’s eyes flashed an iridescent green, the only hint that she possessed Maleficent’s heritage as a faerie. Begrudgingly, the elder villains stopped talking to themselves and muttering threats to their child (at least in the de Vil’s case). “Unless you want to be chopped up by the goblins and thrown into the water or fed to the beggars, I suggest you remind yourselves that this plan was made by Maleficent, someone much more powerful than the three of you combined. The plan will go into play and there is nothing you can do to stop it. No one will care if the creep in the shop, the hermit from the old castle and the insane puppy skinner (oh I’m sorry, you never actually were able to go through with that were you?) suddenly disappeared.” The three children of said villains stepped away from the parents slightly, expecting an explosion. There was none, not yet anyway.

“Come, Jadid, we must go,” Jafar said, his skeletal face turned into a sneer, an evil look in his black, beady eyes. 

“He will go nowhere. If you don’t remember, Jafar, but we must plan and you don’t want to cross Maleficent, right?” Mal smirked. They had one week to plan, enough time where they can hide out in Carlos’ hideout or in an abandoned room in Grimhilde’s castle. The kids had things they needed to do and Mal needed every one of them at their best, especially if they were to approach a certain gang on the Isle. Jafar grimaced and disappeared, his ratty cloak sweeping out with him. Cruella had devolved to talking to herself and her fur coat and Grimhilde hadn’t heard a word, too busy fussing over the wrinkles she had gained. Mal took advantage of the situation, beckoning the three other villain children to follow her. They made their way out the back door of the castle and through the streets.

“What’s going on Mal?” Evie whispered, smiling coyly at a middle-aged henchman while Jay swiftly took what he had been holding and what had been in his pockets. They swiftly danced around any potential threats and broke any hands that tried to pickpocket them.

“Mal, where is it we’re going?” Carlos asked, barely looking as he twisted the wrist in his hands until he heard a cry of pain and a snap. He threw the elder villain’s arm away from him and caught up with the others.

“To the hideout, where Maleficent won’t be able to use her nasty little spies to listen to us talk about our plan for Auradon,” Mal finally answered. They were in a more abandoned part of the Isle, so she thought it okay to finally speak. However, she caught the sight of a shadow moving in an alley. She froze, a hand coming up to stop the rest of the gang. She then pointed down the alley. Jay and Carlos broke out of formation, being the strongest and quickest of the bunch. They peeked around the corner to see Gil Legume hurriedly rushing towards the peer.

“Fuck,” Carlos whispered before sprinting after the man. He easily jumped and ducked under obstacles that gave Gil trouble, meaning he caught up with the teen quite easily. Jay was close behind, backup in case Carlos needed it. Carlos perched atop a pipe that ran from building to building before pouncing down, landing nimbly on his feet right in front of Gil. Gil startled, backing up into Jay. Carlos smiled charmingly.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” He asked in a smooth, quiet voice. It sent shivers down Gil’s back, and not pleasantly like the shivers running up Jay’s back. 

“Um-I was just, ya know, heading to the shop to, uh, talk to Uma,” Gil stammered out, eyes widening when he looked behind Jay to see the two girls walking towards them.

“And what, evil tell, were you going to talk to her about?” Evie asked sweetly. Gil perked up, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“I was gonna tell her about you talking about Auradon and your plan!” He exclaimed, giddy like a small puppy. Mal stepped forward.

“Let him go Carlos, Jay. Legume, tell Shrimpy I want to talk. The Pirate Queen, I hear she calls herself. Obviously a bad parody of the Dragon Queen, but whatever sinks her boat,” Mal sneered. Carlos stepped out of the way and they all watched as the Legume boy stumbled his way to the Fish and Chips shop Uma and her little pirate crew worked at.

“This is going to be great, much better than expected,” Mal sing-songed before turning on her heel and heading back towards the hideout.

Once inside the graffitied walls, they all crash landed onto the closest bed. They were all completely overwhelmed with what had to be done, but they also had to come up with a game plan for whenever Uma got the message.

“We’ll be going to the shop tonight,” Mal said from her spot squished between Evie and Carlos.

“Why do you need to speak with Uma anyway?” Evie asked, resisting the urge to furrowed her brow. Wrinkles were unsightly.

“The shrimp may be a bitch but she’s been able to round up an entire crew and get them to follow her and her alone, without the use of her mother,” Mal spat out, grinding her teeth. “We could use someone like that when we take over Auradon. When we are the kings and queens, we can’t have those pirates working against us, now can we?” 

“What?” Carlos asked, sitting straight up and jostling Jay with his bony shoulder. “We aren’t gonna get the wand and free Maleficent?”

“Evil no Carlos, get with it,” Mal said, though there was little malice in her tone. “Why would I give the wand to a bunch of pathetic has-beens who didn’t even get it right when they had the chance? No, we will steal the wand but not for them. We will become rulers of Auradon! Us and all the other VKs stuck on this hell of an Isle. We’ll see who’s laughing, then.”

#descendants #jay x carlos #jaylos #mal x evie #mevie #malvie #So Many Ways to be Wicked #uma #harry hook #mal #evie #evie grimhilde #carlos #carlos de vil #jay #bal #ben x mal #ben #audrey rose #audrey #maleficent #cruella de vil #jafar #evil queen #queen grimhilde #li lonnie #lonnie #chad charming #chad #belle

[hungline]

kiss, kiss, fall in love

pairings: namkook, side taejin and yoonminseok  genre: fluff, angst, smut, uni au, rated e  warnings: trans male character, explicit sexual content, cross-dressing, strap-ons, anal sex, gender dysphoria, jeongguk crying a lot  words: 19278 

summary: Kim Namjoon can admit he’s an idiot. He can also admit that he likes Jeon Jeongguk more than he should. 

Namjoon is currently having difficulty getting air in and out of his lungs at the moment.

His chest aches and his fingers keep fumbling with the ends of his black tie.

Weirdly enough, his nipples are actually chafing against the binder that he wears underneath his royal blue button-up.

There’s a strange feeling building up in the pit of his stomach as he looks up towards the stage where the university’s drama club is holding their annual play and he only has eyes for Jeongguk. Never mind the fact that Namjoon’s best friend, Seokjin, is playing the male lead. All Namjoon can see is the lights reflecting off Jeongguk’s black hair, his slender arms shining in the spotlight, and lightly tanned legs twirling about with the ends of his dark blue skirt fanning around them.

If Namjoon had really been born with a penis, like he’d always wanted, he’s sure he would have popped a semi in his jeans.

No one can really blame Namjoon for how he’s feeling though. Anyone would react the same way if they had seen Jeongguk in a beautiful blue skirtーin a shade that just so happens to match their own shirtーand they were also crushing big time on said sophomore student. So it’s understandable, but Namjoon is still very pleasantly surprised about the way he’s reacting to seeing Jeongguk in a skirt.

He can sit through it though, definitely. It's not hard. Not one bit. This isn't affecting him at all.

He's just peachy.

And then Jeongguk is looking him right in the eye, a nervous glint in his brown sparkly orbs as he delivers his line flawlessly and lets the skirt twirl around him a little bit. Jeongguk looks like he's actually quite enjoying prancing around in that skirt onstage and Namjoon figures that he’s screwed. Either way, he still manages to shoot Jeongguk a supportive smile and a thumbs up before the young actor looks away to continue on with the play.

Namjoon kind of wants to die as his eyes follow Jeongguk's lithe figure around the stage, and when the younger looks in his direction, the feeling only increases by tenfold. And he is so not okay. He didn’t know that Jeongguk was supposed to perform that night. He knew the younger was Soyou’s understudy, but he hadn’t known about the young actress breaking her leg until he’d been standing in the lobby of the auditorium, waiting for the doors to open. Seokjin had run up to him and whispered fervently in his ear about what happened before he ran off to get Jeongguk ready to go on stage. Namjoon hadn’t thought that Jeongguk would embrace the role so diligently either, but the younger had been surprising him since day one

Namjoon figures that he’s really screwed.

The play is over in the blink of an eye and Namjoon doesn't know whether he should get up and go find Jeongguk or Seokjin or maybe the both of them or just remain seated until everyone has filed out of the auditorium so no human being is able to bear witness to Namjoon struggling to find his composure. He's trying his best to not think about the way Jeongguk’s tanned legs look like in a skirt, but when he looks up and all he sees is those said legs, he feels his heart jump into his throat as he makes eye contact with Jeongguk.

“I was wondering where you were,” Jeongguk says shyly, quite literally toeing at the ground with his hands clutched loosely together behind his back.

Namjoon stands up fast enough to feel vertigo and almost stumbles forward, but Jeongguk catches him and sets him back upright. Both men’s hearts are beating a mile a minute in their chests as they stand before the other. Namjoon isn't really sure what he should say to the younger, but he has to say something. Jeongguk is looking at him like the sun shines out of his ass and yeah, okay, so Namjoon knows that Jeongguk likes him, he isn't that dense, but he’s not really sure that Jeongguk would actually enjoy being with him.

A lot of Namjoon’s exes have said he was too standoffish, too intelligent, too well spoken, too independent, and when Namjoon finally made his transition, he suddenly became too weird. But Namjoon, he knows that he's worth more than what other people think or say about him, he knows that. It still doesn't mean that he can say he isn't hurt by the opinions people have about him though.

So Namjoon has trust issues, understandably so, but Jeongguk doesn't seem to quite get that. The younger fawns over him often and sometimes it makes Namjoon uncomfortable. Namjoon may really like Jeongguk, but he isn't ready for what Jeongguk may have in mind and Jeongguk doesn't quite grasp that, so now they play a game of hide and go seek where Namjoon usually hides more often than not.

But Jeongguk is nervous, and not the kind of nervous that he usually is around Namjoon. It's the “I might break down and throw a fit any second” kind of nervous. Namjoon thinks he might know why.

“Youー” Namjoon pauses to clear his throat before he tries to speak again. “You were great out there, Gukk-ah. This skirt really suits you.”

Jeongguk blushes and fuck, Namjoon is screwed with a capital S.

“Taehyung said the same thing. I didn't really think he was telling the truth though,” Jeongguk mumbles, his cheeks a blazing red and Namjoon really wants to kiss him all over his ridiculously adorable face.

“Gukk-ah, would hyung ever lie to you?” Namjoon tilts his head just so and gives Jeongguk the most dashing smile he can muster.

Jeongguk’s face only burns a brighter red and he shakes his head in response. Despite his better judgment, Namjoon can't help but take Jeongguk’s hand as he starts to lead them towards the side stage where he can see the top of Taehyung’s ridiculous high hat that he sported for the later part of the play. Jeongguk goes willingly, not really saying anything, and hand curled tight around Namjoon’s.

It's nice, the comfortable silences they tend to fall into whenever they're together. Namjoon knows that Jeongguk is a sweet kid, mostly inexperienced, incredibly intelligent, and generally quiet, but it's exactly why Namjoon is able to get along with the younger so well. Jeongguk swallows up everything Namjoon tells him without preamble and Namjoon would be worried if he wasn't also constantly forcing himself to not kiss Jeongguk.

Jeongguk in a skirt that contrasts so gorgeously with his legs is really as far as Namjoon’s limits can go. He's faring well though, much better than he thought, and much more better than Taehyung thought if the surprised look on the fashion designer’s face gave Namjoon any kind of hint.

Namjoon thinks Taehyung looks absolutely ridiculous in his steampunk get up, but the amused look on Jeongguk’s face when he sees Taehyung makes up for it.

“You're matching,” is the first thing Taehyung says when Namjoon and Jeongguk finally reach him.

Namjoon already knew this, but he still smiles when Jeongguk makes a small, surprised noise because the sound is unbearably cute. It's cute in a very non-romantic kind of way. Totally.

Taehyung is squinting at him when Namjoon meets his eye. Namjoon audibly gulps and feels his smile start to crumble under pressure.

“I guess we are,” Namjoon manages to say, his hand starting to feel sweaty in Jeongguk’s grasp.

He distantly thinks he should let go of the younger man’s hand. Friends don't hold hands for this long, they really don't. Yoongi had assured him on many occasions that friends don't do that. But Namjoon knows that if he pulls his hand away, then Jeongguk is going to become sulky and pouty and start making grabby hands at him and Namjoon is positively weak for that. So he just squeezes Jeongguk’s hand but doesn't make any move to let go.

Taehyung is still squinting at them and Namjoon feels himself break into a nervous sweat. Namjoon knows that look in Taehyung’s eye. It usually means he’s going to try and play matchmaker and Taehyung hasn’t been wrong about his matches yet. Namjoon is split down the middle with hoping that Taehyung might be wrong just this one time about Jeongguk and him, but then there’s also that other side of him that’s banking on Taehyung’s abilities to see the compatible connections between the people he sets up.

Taehyung looks like he’s going to say something, but Jeongguk is speaking before Taehyung can even let out a breath. “Are you still up for pizza right now, TaeTae-hyung?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung grunts, his eyes swiveling from Namjoon to Jeongguk and back. “Is Namjoon-hyung coming too?”

Namjoon can feel Jeongguk’s gaze on him and the light squeeze of his hand around his makes something spasm in Namjoon’s chest. He allows himself to stare at the younger man and he has to visibly restrain himself from kissing Jeongguk again. Jeongguk is biting on his bottom lip, the hand not intertwined with Namjoon’s fiddling with the pleats of the skirt he’s still wearing and all Namjoon wants to do is kiss him senseless. Kiss him until he’s never nervous again and doesn’t look at Namjoon with that hopeful glint in his eye. Namjoon’s nodding his head before his brain really filters what’s being asked of him, but the delighted smile that lights up Jeongguk’s face is definitely worth it.

“Great!” Taehyung exclaims, throwing an arm over Jeongguk’s shoulders, his trademark rectangular grin spread wide across his face. “Gukkie-ah, you should probably change.”

Jeongguk looks down at the skirt for a short span of time and Namjoon feels the need to say something, but Jeongguk is already smiling back up at the older men before he can.

“I think I’ll just go like this. You guys don’t...mind, right?”

The youngest man’s cheeks are a blazing red and he’s probably drawing blood from gnawing on his bottom lip and Namjoon really just wants to pick him up, kiss him all over, and tell him that of course he doesn’t mind, he would never mind, and Jeongguk is allowed to wear whatever his heart desires. But Namjoon doesn’t do that. Instead, he stares at Jeongguk like a fool and allows Taehyung to respond for the both of them instead.

“That’s fine with me, Jeonggukkie. If anyone says anything while we’re out, I’ll kick their ass, alright?”

Namjoon finally speaks up then. “Shouldn’t you be the one changing, Tae-ah?”

Taehyung stares at him affronted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Namjoon trills.

The giggle that Jeongguk lets out in response absolutely breaks Namjoon’s heart.

He is smitten for this kid. He can’t deny it, not one bit. A blind person would be able to see that Namjoon is head over heels for Jeongguk and Namjoon, even with an IQ of 148, thinks he’s an idiot for trying so hard to keep his distance from the younger. It obviously didn’t work, not even a little, and it probably just made him like Jeongguk even more.

Kim Namjoon can admit he’s an idiot. He can also admit that he likes Jeon Jeongguk more than he should.

Jeongguk smiles up at him like the sun shines out of Namjoon’s ass and Namjoon knows he has it bad.

Namjoon pushes Jeongguk’s hair out of his face and lets the younger man lead the way out of the auditorium with a buzzing Taehyung who’s still wearing the ridiculous high hat right beside him. Jeongguk hesitates once they step outside and see that there are still people milling about, but Namjoon just squeezes his hand and waits for the younger man to start walking again before he follows dutifully after.

They’ve only just made it down the main steps when Seokjin flings himself at Namjoon.

“Hyung!” Namjoon whines, struggling to hold up the older bulkier man that always shows up just when Namjoon thinks things are going his way. “Get off!”

“No. I’m glad you made it though. You need to quit moping around and support your favorite hyung with every chance you get, Joonie,” Seokjin pouts, pulling himself closer to Namjoon and ruffling Jeongguk’s hair as he does. “Hey, Gukkie-ah. Where are you guys headed to?”

Namjoon really hopes that Jeongguk doesn’t answer Seokjin’s question. And if he does, then he really hopes that Jeongguk doesn’t let his bleeding heart convince him to invite Seokjin along with them. They’re co-stars and friends and all, but Namjoon really hopes that Jeongguk won’t let himself be so lenient, at least for the rest of the night.

“We’re getting pizza, hyung. Do you want to come with?” Jeongguk has a bright grin spread across his face and Namjoon wants to scream and fling himself off a cliff.

Seokjin, of course, accepts the offer and stays latched to Namjoon’s side for the entire walk. Namjoon doesn’t hate or even dislike Seokjin. They’re best friends actually, but Seokjin is a very a touchy person and Namjoon always notices when Jeongguk watches them interact just a little too closely, his eyes lingering on Seokjin’s arms slung around Namjoon’s neck. Namjoon really doesn’t want Jeongguk to start feeling less confident now that he’s out and about in a skirt. He knows how much that’s going to affect Jeongguk’s self-worth in the long run and Namjoon just hopes that Seokjin can keep his touching and hand-feeding to a minimum tonight.

Of course, that’s exactly what Seokjin doesn’t do.

Namjoon does his best to refute Seokjin’s offers of pizza slices and buffalo wings dipped in different sauces, he really does, but when Seokjin offers him a slice of his Hawaiian pizza, Namjoon can’t help but cave in. He leans in and takes a bite from the slice that Seokjin is holding out to him. He takes a bite and chews as the sweet tangy taste of pineapple and smoked ham explodes over his taste buds and he might have closed his eyes and breathed out something close to a moan. Maybe.

When he looks up to meet Jeongguk’s startled gaze, he knows he definitely did. He blushes and ducks his head, avoiding Taehyung’s penetrating gaze on him.

Seokjin pats him on the back with a pleased smile. “There’s my cute dongsaeng. Always eat well. Here! Take another bite.”

He’s holding the slice out to Namjoon again, but the irritated look on Taehyung’s face makes him shake his head and lean away from the elder. “Hyung, stop. I’m not a baby.”

Seokjin merely laughs that high windshield-wiper laugh of his and lets his free hand pinch Namjoon’s cheek. “You’re Seokjinnie’s baby.”

Taehyung makes a gagging noise and Namjoon pushes himself forcibly away from the eldest of their group. “Hyung, don’t refer to yourself in third person. We’ve talked about this before. People think you’re going loopy with old age.”

Seokjin slaps his arm just a bit more harshly than he should and pouts at the blonde-haired senior. “I’m not that old, shut up, Joonie.”

Namjoon laughs and makes the mistake of looking in Jeongguk’s direction as he does. Jeongguk looks like a kicked puppy and Namjoon feels something clog his throat. His laughter turns into choked gurgles and Taehyung leans over the table to clap a hand on Namjoon’s back way harder than what is necessary. Namjoon offhandedly thinks that Taehyung is taking this chance to release all his pent-up frustration that he has with the whole Jeongguk-crushing-on-Namjoon-and-Namjoon-acting-weird-about-it situation. Namjoon can’t really blame him. He knows that if he were in Taehyung’s position he would do the same thing to the object of his best friend’s affections.

Seokjin takes it upon himself to shoo Taehyung’s hand away from Namjoon’s back once Taehyung’s hand has taken to slapping him. He gives Taehyung a warning look and the fashion designer merely gives an innocent smile back from under his stupid hat then throws an arm over Jeongguk’s shoulders, but Namjoon still catches the blush that slowly creeps its way across Taehyung’s cheeks as he holds Seokjin’s gaze. Namjoon knows he has no right to, but he feels jealous when he notices how quickly Jeongguk relaxes under Taehyung’s touch. It’s no surprise though, ever since Jeongguk enrolled into the university, he and Taehyung had been attached at the hip, childhood best friends and whatnot. Of course, Jeongguk would be relaxed around Taehyung. Taehyung doesn’t make the younger feel nervous and jittery whenever they talk like Namjoon does.

Taehyung whispers something to Jeongguk, his gaze still on Seokjin and Namjoon has to put visible effort into looking away from Jeongguk to pierce Seokjin with his gaze instead. The elder is frowning at the young pair seated across from them and Namjoon has known Seokjin long enough to tell that the upward pull of his frown means he’s jealous. It’s the same frown Seokjin wore whenever Yoongi would come around to their dorm last year and demand that Namjoon spend time with him. It settled down once Yoongi started dating Jimin and, by extension, Hoseok, but Seokjin has never liked Namjoon in that kind of way before. Back then, Namjoon was still trying to get used to his new life as a man and Seokjin had been there for him through it all.

Namjoon can still remember the time that Seokjin fought two drunks when they tried to coerce the younger into an unwanted threesome. Seokjin had come out victorious from that fight and Namjoon had had to talk their way out of getting arrested before he got a cab and made sure he and Seokjin got home safely that night. Seokjin is sturdy and strong and Namjoon looks up to him. He’s Namjoon’s best friend and Namjoon knew him well enough to think that Seokjin might be crushing on Kim Taehyung, the elite, wanna-be fashion designer who only went to school because his parents had forced him to.

When Taehyung whispers something else into Jeongguk’s ear and the bright, childish giggle Jeongguk lets out meets Namjoon’s ears, Namjoon is absolutely certain that his best friend likes his crush’s best friend.

Namjoon tugs on Seokjin’s sleeve and offers him a buffalo wing silently. Seokjin takes it, gives him a soft smile, then bites into the wing without any kind of preamble at all. Namjoon laughs when Seokjin sets the wing down and there’s sauce covering his lips and chin. He hands the elder a napkin and laughs again when Seokjin mutters something about how Namjoon should’ve just cleaned his face himself.

When Namjoon turns back to grab another slice of pizza, Jeongguk is looking at him. Namjoon doesn’t know him well enough, he doesn’t know Jeongguk at all really, but Namjoon knows that there’s a jealous gleam in the younger man’s eye when he watches the exchange between Namjoon and his best friend. Namjoon gulps and holds his slice of pizza out towards Jeongguk.

“Say ah,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice low and throaty and Jeongguk’s pupils dilate and Namjoon is fucking screwed.

Jeongguk opens his mouth obediently and takes a bite out of the slice of pizza, twisting his face up once he starts chewing.

“Ew, pineapple,” the younger man whines.

Namjoon laughs. “Pineapple is good for you. Here, have the rest, Jeonggukkie.”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose at Namjoon’s words, but takes a few more bites out of the slice that Namjoon is holding out towards him before he groans about it tasting too gross to swallow. Taehyung makes some sly response about Jeongguk being able to swallow other things just fine and Jeongguk smacks his arm. Suddenly, Namjoon is thinking that maybe Jeongguk and Taehyung are so close because they’ve fooled around before.

He really hopes that isn’t the case when Jeongguk looks back at him with an adorable smile on his face. Namjoon finds himself leaning in, lips pursed, before he catches himself and settles himself back into his seat. Seokjin gives him a knowing look and pats him on the head before he reaches out to take the last buffalo wing. Taehyung complains about ‘Seokjinnie-hyung’ eating all of their food and Namjoon is pretty certain that Taehyung might just like Seokjin in return. He belatedly realizes that this is an impromptu double-date and is left jittery for the rest of their time spent together.

He forgets about being nervous when Jeongguk stands to pay for the bill and walks off to get into the line that’s queueing up right in front of the cash register at the front counter. Seokjin pulls out a few crumpled bills and lays them on the table as a tip before he stands to join Jeongguk in line. Namjoon moves to follow until Taehyung puts a hand on his arm and gently pushes him back into his seat.

Namjoon shouldn’t be confused, but he kind of is anyway when Taehyung leans forward on his elbows and gives Namjoon a shrewd look. He almost laughs when Taehyung’s hat falls to cover half his face.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Namjoon tries.

“Ha-ha. Funny,” Taehyung grumbles. “Listen, we need to talk.”

Namjoon snaps to attention. “About what?”

“You and Jeonggukkie.”

Namjoon stiffens then. “There’s nothing to talk about Tae.”

Taehyung shakes his head and looks over his shoulder where both of them can see Jeongguk and Seokjin eyeing them warily. “I know you like Gukk-ah. He likes you too, you know.”

Namjoon bites his bottom lip and blurts the first words he can think of in response. “Yeah? Well, I know you like Seokjinnie-hyung. He likes you as well.”

Taehyung laughs. “Good. I’ve been meaning to ask him out to dinner. Glad to know I won’t have to worry about his answer.”

Namjoon blinks. “Is it really that easy for you?”

“Yep. It should be that easy for you two as well.”

There’s a short silence before Taehyung sighs and gives Namjoon a concerned look. “Look, I know that your first few months after transitioning were tough and I know that your exes were pretty much scum, but please don’t let that affect what you can have with Jeongguk. He’s a really nice kid, albeit a bit antisocial and shy as hell, but he’s sweet and he’s very easy-going, Joon-hyung. Please, just give him a chance. He likes you a lot, more than you probably know. You could insult him and he’d still be willing to suck your face off.”

Namjoon laughs at the analogy and pats Taehyung’s shoulder. “Thanks. I don’t think that last one is a good thing exactly, but thank you.”

“No problem.” Taehyung nods his head and stands up. “Now let’s go to our men, they look like they’re going to storm over here. Plus, I promised Gukkie I would stay by his side until he took off the skirt. He’s paranoid.”

Namjoon stands up and opens his mouth to say something, but he jumps when Seokjin yells something out and punches a guy that Namjoon has never seen before while Jeongguk stands nearby, a watery look in his eyes and his hands curled so tightly into the pleats of his skirt that Namjoon thinks he’s never going to let them go. Taehyung dashes off towards the commotion, his hat askew, and easily takes Jeongguk’s hand as he pays their bill before he leads the younger man outside into the nice, cool air. Namjoon is left to deal with trying to get Seokjin off the stranger and ends up being elbowed in the face. He can feel the first drop of blood drip from his nose and Namjoon groans when someone kicks him in the chest then, right into his left boob, which is much more painful than normal thanks to how tightly his binder is on today. Seokjin is somehow by his side suddenly, a hand on Namjoon’s waist as he presses napkins that he got from who knows where to the younger man’s nose and leads them outside where Jeongguk and Taehyung wait with the manager of the place following them and telling them they aren’t allowed to come back again.

“Wouldn’t dream of eating in a place where men with fragile masculinities can’t handle seeing another dude in a skirt,” Seokjin spits out through his teeth, his body practically plastered to Namjoon’s by that point and Namjoon is starting to feel a bit suffocated.

Namjoon doesn’t like people being so into his personal space. Hugs are horrible for him and he avoids them often, but there’s Seokjin with his hand clenching on too tight to Namjoon’s waist and pressing the damp wad of napkins to his nose, his front side pressing into Namjoon’s back. Namjoon has his head tilted up and back so it ends up on Seokjin’s shoulder and then Jeongguk is suddenly in his line of vision. There’s tears in his eyes and his hand immediately replaces Seokjin’s on the wad of napkins until Namjoon is finally free from the elder’s grip on him. There’s a look of awe on Taehyung’s face and he barely notices that one of the employees is trying to press more napkins into his hands for Namjoon’s nose.

“Did you really punch that asshole in the face ‘cause he made fun of Gukkie’s skirt?” Taehyung asks as he hands the napkins off to Jeongguk.

Jeongguk is too busy pressing the new napkins to Namjoon’s nose to really pay attention to anything else, but then Namjoon’s hand is on his waist and there’s a small smile on his lips when Jeongguk looks into his face. Meanwhile, Seokjin is dusting off his shirt and sending worried glances in Namjoon’s direction before he looks back towards Taehyung.

“Yeah. It pissed me off.” Seokjin shrugs, like punching a stranger to defend the feelings of his best friend’s crush is an absolutely normal thing to do.

“Wow,” Taehyung sighs, his eyes shining with admiration as he throws his arms around Seokjin’s neck, his hat falling completely off, but Taehyung doesn’t care about that right now. “Wanna have dinner tomorrow?”

Seokjin laughs. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

Taehyung grins and leans in, letting his lips brush briefly against the elder’s before he pulls them towards Namjoon and Jeongguk. Jeongguk is crying by this point and he keeps apologizing profusely to Namjoon who merely stands there, swaying a little, but saying nothing, the blood finally having stopped flowing. Seokjin detangles himself from Taehyung and wraps an arm around Namjoon’s shoulders.

“Hey, you alright?” Seokjin asks his best friend.

Namjoon sighs and closes his eyes, sagging against Seokjin’s side. “No. One of you kicked me in the chest and I’m swallowing my own blood.”

Seokjin, bless him doesn’t laugh and merely crouches down so he can hook his arm under Namjoon’s knees and pull him into this chest, carrying the younger, bloody man bridal style. “I’ll take you home, Joon-ah, don’t worry.”

“That’s the least you can do after you kicked me in the boob, hyung,” Namjoon murmurs, his voice frail and eyes closing of their own accord, the blood on his face stiffening.

Seokjin laughs and shakes his head with a fond look on his face before he looks back up at the younger men in front of him. “I’m gonna take him back to his apartment and set him up with an ice pack and aspirin. Sorry for ending the night like this.”

Taehyung nods his head and smiles, throwing an arm around Jeongguk’s waist and pulling him into his side. “It’s no biggie, hyung. Thanks for defending Jeonggukkie. Take Joonie-hyung home and please convince him that he and Jeongguk-ah are absolutely made for one another.”

“Tae!” Jeongguk sputters, tear tracks staining his face as he rips his eyes away from Namjoon to pin Taehyung with an accusing stare.

“I can hear you,” Namjoon whispers, his eyes still closed.

Jeongguk blushes and wipes at his eyes, unable to say anything. Seokjin only laughs again and leans in to give Taehyung a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll be off now. You have my number so just text me about the date tomorrow.”

“Okay. Bye, hyung!” Taehyung replies cheerily.

Jeongguk looks glum when he says, “Bye, hyung. Sorry about everything.”

Seokjin laughs. “It’s fine, Jeonggukkie. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, okay?”

Jeongguk nods and Seokjin shoots him a fond smile. “I know Namjoon-ah can seem really distant, but that’s only ‘cause he doesn’t want to get hurt again. Be patient with him, alright, Gukkie-ah?”

“Okay, hyung.”

“I can still hear you,” Namjoon speaks up then, a frown on his face and the blood spurting from his nose, now completely dry. “Take me home, hyung. My boob and my nose fucking hurt.”

“Shut up, you big baby.”

“Your big baby,” Namjoon mutters, hefting a sigh into Seokjin’s chest as the elder begins to walk away.

Namjoon isn’t sure if Jeongguk is still in hearing distance, but he doesn’t hesitate to yell out, “Jeongguk-ah! You looked cute in that skirt!”

Seokjin’s windshield wiper laugh meets his ears and Namjoon can distantly hear Taehyung whooping in the background, but that’s the last thing he remembers before he’s being laid on his bed, face now clean, and an ice pack wrapped in a clean rag being pressed to his throbbing nose. Namjoon isn’t sure when it happened, but Seokjin had pulled off the younger man’s shirt and his binder and pulled a hoodie on him before he settled in beside Namjoon on his bed and spooned him through the night.

Namjoon doesn’t say it, but Seokjin knows that he’s the only person Namjoon would let do that.

That night, Namjoon dreams of dark blue skirts and pretty pink blushes adorning a certain bunny-looking boy that makes his heart beat just a little faster than normal.

He wakes up to a bare chested Seokjin who’s dressed in a pair of Namjoon’s sweats as he makes breakfast in his kitchen. Namjoon smacks his butt as he walks past. Seokjin tsks at him in response.

  The next few days Namjoon has to listen to Seokjin gush over his new boyfriend.

He isn’t really annoyed though. Namjoon is happy that Seokjin is happy and Taehyung’s a good kid.

Still, Namjoon wouldn’t hesitate at all to kick Taehyung’s ass if he somehow hurt Namjoon’s best friend, but he knows that the possibility of that happening is unlikely.

Taehyung is too engrossed with the way Seokjin talks and speaks and the way his face scrunches up whenever he’s trying to with hold his laughter while telling a lame dad joke. It’s kind of cute, Namjoon thinks, how Taehyung is noticing such little things and claiming that he’s fallen in love with them. Namjoon just laughs though.

He doesn’t take Taehyung’s bold declarations of love to heart. It’s just Taehyung being Taehyung and Seokjin laughs and kisses Taehyung’s nose every time he says he’s in love.

It’s cute. It really is.

Except, now that Seokjin and Taehyung are together, all they do is pester Namjoon about getting together with Jeongguk. Namjoon is annoyed by that. He doesn’t have the time to deal with them playing cupid, he has a final to study for and he needs to meet Jeongguk in the library for their tutoring session in less than twenty minutes. So he collects his things, picks up his bag, and ducks out the doorway of Seokjin’s apartment with a rushed excuse of meeting Jeongguk. The pleased looks on their faces are a bit much, Namjoon thinks, but whatever gets them off his back.

Seokjin doesn’t live far from the university. He actually lives in the same apartment complex as Namjoon, but his apartment is on a floor lower than Namjoon’s own, so they see each other often.

Namjoon is breathing harder than usual by the time he steps onto campus, but he wastes no time at all to admire spring’s effect on campus life. He needs to be in the library in five minutes so he and Jeongguk can start their tutoring session. Jeongguk still needs work on getting his pronunciation right for his English class and Namjoon, as an English speaking person, was paired with Jeongguk in the first term.

Jeongguk is an honors student double majoring in theater and dance and minoring in photography and art. Namjoon doesn’t know how the younger man does it, but since Namjoon is a double major himself, he gets why Jeongguk might need a tutor. Jeongguk had skipped a few grades during primary school, same as Namjoon, but he was still just a kid most of the time. It was hard to believe that Jeongguk was only twenty when his face still had that round of youth to it.

Namjoon had been captivated by Jeongguk from the very first moment their eyes met.

Everything Jeongguk seemed to do had grabbed his attention and Namjoon knew he was treading in dangerous waters from the very beginning, so he’d told himself he wouldn’t get invested. He’d stay as far away from the younger as he could and he would not under any circumstances let himself dive head first into his feelings for Jeon Jeongguk.

Of course, that was unknowingly the first thing that he did.

Namjoon pushes that thought to the back of his mind as he finally reaches the library and spots Jeongguk leaning against the wall beside the door that leads to the library’s study rooms. He’s talking to a guy that Namjoon has never seen before, but he doesn’t think anything of it since nothing about Jeongguk’s posture says that the stranger is bothering him.

Jeongguk spots him and the smile that graces his lips could blind Namjoon. Namjoon feels his own lips pull into a small smile in return that quickly lowers into a frown when the guy Jeongguk is talking to takes a step towards Jeongguk and is suddenly too close for comfort. Namjoon sees the immediate change in Jeongguk’s body language and he can tell that the younger doesn’t really like the man being in his personal space and Namjoon is quick to step in between them, pulling on Jeongguk’s hand to lead him towards the study rooms.

The man follows them, a disgruntled look on his face at the sight of Namjoon, but he opens his mouth to speak anyway. Namjoon wishes that he hadn’t.

“Jeongguk, you never gave me an answer. Do you want to go out with me this Friday to the movies?” His voice is low and somewhat nasally and Namjoon decides then that he hates him.

Jeongguk looks like a deer caught in the headlights and his gaze keeps flicking from Namjoon to the man behind him. Namjoon stops in front of the door that leads to their scheduled study room but makes no move to open it. The stranger is still waiting for Jeongguk’s answer.

“You really want to go out with me?” Jeongguk asks, a confused expression on his face. “We’ve barely spoken at all, Yugyeom-ssi.”

The now named Yugyeom smirks and leans in towards Jeongguk again. Jeongguk goes still and Namjoon stiffens beside him before he pulls Jeongguk behind him.

“Listen, could you stop getting so close. It makes Jeonggukkie uncomfortable,” Namjoon murmurs, his gaze holding Yugyeom’s.

Yugyeom frowns at Namjoon and scoffs. “Who are you? His boyfriend?”

Namjoon can feel Jeongguk’s eyes on the back of his head and he knows that the younger is hoping for Namjoon to say yes, yes he is Jeongguk’s boyfriend. Namjoon knows that Jeongguk wants him to be and Namjoon thinks he wouldn’t really mind it, but Namjoon isn’t ready for a relationship. Ever since the night Jeongguk had worn a skirt, Namjoon and Jeongguk had both been made aware of each other’s feelings for the other, but neither have done anything to take a step forward. They haven’t brought up what Taehyung or Seokjin said either and instead have been tip-toeing around each other. This is Namjoon’s chance to take a step forward and really start something with Jeongguk, but he isn’t ready. All Namjoon can think about is every one of his last break ups and the reasons behind them. He doesn’t want to go through that again, no matter how much he may like Jeongguk. So he bites his lip and lets go of Jeongguk’s hand.

“No. I’m his tutor and his friend and I don’t appreciate you harassing him.”

Namjoon can feel Jeongguk visibly deflate beside him, but he doesn’t say anything to draw attention to it since Yugyeom is inspecting them so shrewdly.

“I don’t think it’s your place to decide how Jeongguk feels,” Yugyeom says, his frown still in place as he glares at Namjoon. “Anyways, Jeongguk, how about it?”

Jeongguk grips onto Namjoon’s arm as he steps forward and gives Yugyeom a shy smile. “I guess it would be okay.”

“Awesome. We’ll talk about it more tomorrow in class. See ya,” Yugyeom exclaims, a large smile on his face as he takes a few steps backwards before he turns and walks through the door that they came in from.

Namjoon gingerly pulls his arm out from Jeongguk’s grasp and turns to face the door to their study room again. On the whiteboard are their names with their time slot underneath. Namjoon can’t tear his eyes away from their names linked together with a single, small plus sign and he thinks that Jeongguk can’t either.

Kim Namjoon + Jeon Jeongguk 13:30-15:30

They’ve got two hours together. Namjoon doesn’t think he’s going to make it.

He opens the door anyways and lets Jeongguk pass by first before he steps through the door. Jeongguk is silent as he takes his usual seat at their usual table and Namjoon sits down warily across from him, which is different since Namjoon usually sits beside Jeongguk instead, but Namjoon needs the distance. They’re both unusually quiet and Namjoon doesn’t want to look the younger in the eye, but they have to get started on studying some time. So he lets out a deep breath and tilts his head upwards to meet Jeongguk’s gaze.

“So, have you been working on your pronunciation lately?” Namjoon asks and Jeongguk looks like a kicked puppy again.

“Uh, no. I’ve been a little busy,” Jeongguk murmurs.

Namjoon regrets it the instant it leaves his mouth, but he can’t keep his big mouth shut. “Oh? Too busy doing what? Wooing a certain boy named Yugyeom?”

It’s below the belt, Namjoon knows it is, but he’s insanely jealous and he knows he has no right to be. Jeongguk looks like he might cry and Namjoon thinks flinging himself off a cliff would be a good idea right about now.

“Hyung, why are you being like this?” Jeongguk still looks like he’s going to cry and Namjoon feels something spasm in his chest.

He shifts in his seat, his nipples chafing against his binder again and Namjoon wants to scream. “Gukk-ah, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Jeongguk is crying now, but the way he’s pitifully wiping at his eyes makes Namjoon rise from his seat and come around the table.

“I know you like me, hyung. I can see it on your face every time you look at me,” Jeongguk hiccups, tears still trickling down his face no matter how often he wipes at them. “If you didn’t want me to go out with Yugyeom-ssi, you could have just said so.”

Namjoon twists his hands in his lap and gives Jeongguk a sheepish grin. “Even if I do like you, Gukk-ah, it isn’t my place to tell you what to do. You’re allowed to date whoever you wantー”

“I want to date you, hyung,” Jeongguk sniffles, wiping at his nose before he pulls at Namjoon’s arm, drawing the elder closer. “Hyung, I really want to date you.”

“Why’d you say yes to that guy if you want to date me?” Namjoon knows he’s treading into dangerous waters again, but if he doesn’t go along with the flow, he’s going to drown in his feelings for Jeongguk and that might be even worse.

“You said it yourself. We’re just friends, hyung. I want to date you, but you don’t want to date me.” Jeongguk is crying again and Namjoon’s heart hurts.

Namjoon wants to deny what Jeongguk is saying, but he knows that’d be lying and Namjoon doesn’t want to lie. “Jeongguk-ah, I can’t tell you you’re wrong.”

Jeongguk’s tears have come to a standstill as he stares at Namjoon and suddenly his face is too close and Namjoon isn't sure how he's even able to breathe. Jeongguk’s nose is brushing against his and his vision has gone cross-eyed trying to keep Jeongguk in his line of sight. But the younger is too close and Namjoon can feel his hand on the back of his neck and his lips are a hairsbreadth away from Namjoon’s and Namjoon. Namjoon freaks out.

He pushes away from the tableーaway from Jeonggukーand is left staring up at the ceiling, suddenly on his back. Jeongguk leans over him and pulls Namjoon up, an unreadable look on his face. Namjoon knows he's just thrown their progress five steps backwards, but Jeongguk kissing him isn't something he's ready for in the slightest and he can't bear to have Jeongguk so close to him right now. Namjoon needs to get away, he needs time apart from the younger man who looks like he’s just had his heart trampled on. Namjoon knows that look well. He’s seen it too often in the mirror.

“Hyung, I-I’mー” Jeongguk starts.

But Namjoon is already up and grabbing his things. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“I have an important thing to go to that I completely forgot about. You'll be alright studying on your own, right?” Namjoon’s voice is gruff and hoarse as he speaks, but he's trying very hard not to let his panic show as he rushes towards the door.

Jeongguk doesn't say anything and Namjoon thinks he doesn't have to. The expression on his face says it all.

“Have fun on your date, Jeonggukkie,” Namjoon says as he steps through the door and closes it behind him.

He stares at the whiteboard on the door for a moment and erases his name with the sleeve of his shirt. He runs off before Jeongguk can follow him.

Seokjin and Taehyung are going to kill him.

  Taehyung refuses to talk to him for the rest of that week.

Namjoon’s surprised when Seokjin follows suit. He knows they're dating and all now, but still. Namjoon never thought that his best friend would side with his love interest over him.

But Namjoon knows that he's justified in doing so. Seokjin has finally grown tired of putting up with Namjoon’s moping and pining and then blatant disregard of his own happiness. It's been like this for so long and there’s a lot that Seokjin can put up with, but even Namjoon knows that the elder is at his limit now.

Still, even Yoongi thinks it's cruel when Seokjin and Taehyung talk about Jeongguk’s date with Yugyeom in front of Namjoon like he isn't even there.

“For a best friend, he isn't really acting like one,” Yoongi growls, his fingers burrowing into Hoseok’s hair as he lets his legs spread out and tangle with Hoseok’s.

Namjoon currently has his head in Jimin’s lap with his knees drawn up to his chest. Jimin is running his fingers through his hair and murmuring little things that only Namjoon can hear. Hoseok and Yoongi sit across from them, not huddled up together like they do with Jimin because Namjoon understands that they aren't technically together, but it's hard to think that when Hoseok blushes whenever Yoongi touches him.

Namjoon’s been feeling shitty ever since he woke up that morning and remembered that Jeongguk’s date was to take place that night. But he’s also feeling shitty for the usual reasons as well. He has a paper due Sunday night and he’s barely gathered his resources on it, but he knows he can’t work on it today. He feels too awful. It's why he came to Jimin’s apartment, to seek comfort from the only other person he knows understands the way Namjoon feels about his body sometimes. Jimin’s touch is soothing and his words of encouragement hold more weight than Seokjin’s usually do.

Jimin had transitioned in his final year of high school, back when he’d only been dating Hoseok. Hoseok was an amazing guy, still amazing really, and had even helped Jimin buy his first packer. Then Jimin had met Yoongi through Namjoon and they’d been tip toeing around each other until all three of them sat down and discussed the parameters of their relationship the year before. Hoseok and Yoongi agreed that they didn't really want to date each other, but they wouldn't mind dating Jimin. Namjoon thinks that they must really love Jimin if they're willing to put up with each other and the weird stares they always get whenever they go out together. But it's sweet and nice and Namjoon’s really glad that Jimin is happy.

Still, they have their off days and when Namjoon’s get particularly bad, he comes to Jimin. Yoongi and Hoseok know not to say anything and just let Jimin work his magic on Namjoon, but Namjoon always feels guilty about needing the help anyways.

“Why won't you just date him, Joon?” Hoseok asks and Namjoon closes his eyes with a heavy sigh.

He feels really shitty, the worst ever since he embraced who he really was and he really doesn't want to talk about Jeongguk right now. It's all he can think about though. Whether Jeongguk will actually go through with the date or not, what he'll wear, whether he'll break out that special cologne or not. Namjoon really hopes that he won't, but he knows he has no right to say or even think that. It's his own fault for being too cowardly and he was the one who ran away when Jeongguk tried to kiss him. It's his own fault. All his fault.

“Hobi-hyung, please don't bring him up right now,” Jimin whispers, his voice is soft and musical and Namjoon feels like crying.

He coughs and Yoongi throws a pillow at him. “If you start crying, I'm kicking you out.”

Namjoon blinks back his tears to stare at the elder and closes his eyes again when Jimin’s fingernails scratch at his scalp lightly. It's soothing and it takes Namjoon's mind off the nausea and disgust he's feeling.

“You're mean, hyung,” Namjoon murmurs.

Yoongi sniffs. “The only one being mean to you is yourself, Joon-ah.”

Namjoon sighs. “Please don't, hyung. Not right now. It's really bad, okay?”

Jimin shifts underneath him and taps Namjoon’s cheek. “How bad, Joonie-hyung?”

“The worst. This is the worst I've ever felt,” Namjoon whispers, his face pillowed by Jimin’s thigh.

Namjoon hears someone get up from the opposite couch and he opens his eyes to see that it's Hoseok making his way towards the kitchen. It may be his imagination, but Yoongi looks reluctant to see Hoseok leave his side and when Namjoon looks up to question Jimin, Jimin just gives him a knowing smile before he goes back to massaging Namjoon’s head.

“You know, hyung,” Jimin starts, a thoughtful tilt to his head as he looks down at Namjoon. “Maybe your feelings for Jeongguk are what's making today so bad for you.”

“Not you too, Jiminnie,” Namjoon groans and sits up, pulling the pillow that Yoongi threw at him into his arms to hold up to his chest. “Please, drop it.”

“Just hear me out,” Jimin says, his palms held out towards Namjoon. “It's never been this bad before, right? And you said that today was Jeongguk’s date with that Yug-guy or whatever his name was.”

“Yugyeom,” Namjoon murmurs glumly. “His name is Yugyeom.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Yugyeom, whatever. That's not important right now.”

“Then what is? ‘Cause I don't get what point you're trying to prove, Jimin-ah.”

“Well, maybe you're just feeling even more depressed because you feel like you've messed things up with Jeongguk for good.”

“I still don't get it.”

Yoongi throws another pillow at him as Hoseok walks back into the living room, cups of tea in hand. He hands one to Jimin, then Namjoon and doubles back to the kitchen to grab the last two cups. Namjoon is definitely not imagining it when Hoseok whispers about making coffee for Yoongi instead of tea since the elder hates it and hands him his cup while Yoongi blushes fiercely and mumbles his thanks. Hoseok sits down beside him and instantly tangles their legs together like they were beforehand and Namjoon knows that they've finally swallowed their pride and are dating now too.

Jimin is giving him that knowing smile again when Namjoon looks back at him, but it's none of his business so Namjoon says nothing.

“I think what Jiminnie means is that your feelings for Jeongguk are being piled on top of your other usual feelings and that's why you feel so shitty right now,” Yoongi says, taking a sip of his coffee and giving an appreciative sigh as he does. He turns to Hoseok and murmurs, “This is great, by the way, SeokSeok.”

Yeah, they’re definitely fucking now.

Namjoon sighs and sips some of his tea. “It doesn't matter. Jeongguk already made a choice and he's going to go out with that guy tonight and him doing that has nothing to do with the way I'm feeling about my body right now.”

Jimin sets his cup down and takes Namjoon’s before placing it beside his own. He then pulls Namjoon’s hands into his own hands and turns so that his whole body is facing Namjoon's. Namjoon gulps and prepares himself for the lecture that Jimin is about to give him.

“That's not what I'm saying at all, Namjoonie-hyung. What I'm saying is that you feel so awful today because both your body dysphoria and your feelings for Jeonggukkie have combined. You're blaming yourself for this date happening and honestly, I blame you too, hyung.” Jimin’s voice is hard and unrelenting and Namjoon feels like crying again.

“Jimin-ah, I don't think that's helping,” Hoseok says quietly, his gaze fixed on Namjoon’s face and the tremble of his bottom lip. “You're gonna make him cry.”

Jimin tsks at Hoseok and waves a hand at him. “That's what I'm trying to do. Namjoon needs to cry this out so he can feel better and he needs to face the music about his feelings for Jeongguk. I'm tired of having the both of them come in here crying ‘cause Namjoon-hyung is too much of a pussy to just ask the kid out and get it over with.”

“That was so mean,” Yoongi breathes out before his gummy smile breaks out over his face. “I’m so proud.”

“Stop it, Jimin. You're going to make things worse for Namjoonie,” Hoseok murmurs, a disapproving look on his face. “Look! You made him cry.”

It's true, Namjoon is crying, but it's long overdue and he's already cried twice today so crying some more isn't really a big deal for Namjoon anymore. He knows Jimin is right and he knows that Hoseok is just trying to spare his feelings, but Namjoon’s feelings are all over the place and he isn't even sure what he wants to do anymore. Jimin sighs and pulls a few tissues out from the tissue box on the coffee table and dabs at Namjoon's face with them.

“I'm sorry, hyung. You know I don't like it when people cry, but I'm really really tired of this thing between you and Jeongguk-ah. He's gone searching for me five times this week, always crying about you running away from him when he tried to kiss you and how you probably hate him and some other nonsense. And now you've come over today moping about Jeongguk’s date and I'm sick of it. Either get your shit together and pursue Jeongguk or forget about it and cut off all ties with him,” Jimin exclaims, angrier than Namjoon's ever seen him, but then his voice and his face soften and Namjoon just can't stop his tears from falling. “I'm sorry, hyung, but I'm tired of seeing you two hurting so much over this.”

Hoseok is beside Namjoon then, a comforting hand on his back. “I know Jimin-ah is being harsh, but we're all worried. You've liked Jeongguk for so long and you've done nothing to make him yours. We're concerned that you're letting your past relationships affect your chances with Jeongguk and none of us want to see it when you finally crash and burn. You're nearing your breaking point already, Joonie.”

“Yeah, what they said,” Yoongi mutters as he wiggles his way onto Namjoon’s lap before he starts wiping the younger man’s tears away for him. “Namjoon-ah, you deserve to be happy and none of your asshole exes cared enough to prove that to you, but Jeongguk-ah can. You just have to let him.”

Namjoon sniffles and buries his face into Yoongi’s hair and let's the three of them comfort him until Jimin is pushing a box of his favorite takeout into his hands and swaddling him in a blanket as they settle down for a movie. Jimin lets Namjoon sit between him and his boyfriends and Namjoon eats as much as his stomach will let him before he nestles himself into Jimin’s side and lets his gaze focus on the television instead of Yoongi and Hoseok who are definitely making out beside him.

Yoongi catches the smirk that Namjoon gives them and frowns at him before asking, “What?”

Namjoon only smiles wider and shakes his head. “Nothing. I'm just happy you finally let Hoseok into your heart, hyung. It was weird watching you guys get jealous over Jimin.”

Yoongi blushes and mutters something Namjoon can't make out. Then Hoseok is patting his cheek and smiling softly. “You should let someone into your own heart sometime, Namjoon. It's scary as hell, but it's nice and it makes you feel all warm inside and out.”

Namjoon stares at Hoseok for a little while before he nods his head slowly and finishes watching the rest of the movie. Once it's over, Jimin kisses him on the cheek and offers to make Yoongi give him a ride home, but Namjoon’s apartment isn't far and the sun is barely starting to set so he should be fine. Hoseok kisses his other cheek and gives him the leftover takeout before he runs off into the kitchen again. Yoongi mutters about not needing to be coerced into driving Namjoon home because he was going to offer anyways and blushes when Jimin pats his cheek in consolation before leaving to join Hoseok in the kitchen. Yoongi looks at his socked feet for a few seconds then goes on tiptoe and kisses Namjoon’s nose unexpectedly.

“Don't let your past fuck up your future, Joon-ah, please? I don't like you being by yourself,” Yoongi murmurs, his voice the softest Namjoon has ever heard it.

Namjoon smiles and nuzzles his nose into Yoongi’s hair. “Okay, hyung.”

Yoongi hugs him briefly and offers to walk with him up to the front gate of the apartment complex, but Namjoon tells him it's okay and gives the elder a kiss on his forehead before he bids farewell. Yoongi watches him walk down the hall and take the main steps down until he's in the courtyard. Namjoon waves as he reaches the front gate and isn't surprised to see Yoongi flanked by Jimin and Hoseok as they wave goodbye back. Namjoon grins and steps onto the sidewalk, letting the gate close behind him with a loud clang.

Namjoon’s walk home doesn't take long and he spends a lot of time looking at the spring flowers that adorn a few front gardens and shop windows. Namjoon distantly thinks that he's in the spring of his own life right now and should embrace new things, but he's scared and he doesn't want to get hurt again. Jeongguk is a really sweet kid and Namjoon likes him a lot, more than he's liked any of his exes, but whenever he thinks about being in a relationship with him, all he feels is crippling fear.

He's scared of being hurt. He's scared of being left again. No one he's been with has ever wanted to stay and while Jeongguk likes him back, Namjoon knows that it's just Jeongguk’s young mindset that’s keeping him from thinking of the future. Jeongguk certainly isn't ready for commitment, but it's what Namjoon wants. It's what he's always wanted and no one has been willing to stay long enough to give it to him.

Namjoon makes it home without any preamble at all. He’s barely walked past Seokjin’s door before it's being opened and Seokjin is standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a wary look on his face as he notices Namjoon’s red-rimmed eyes.

“What happened?” Namjoon gives out a sigh when he realizes that the elder is worried.

“Nothing. I was over at Jimin’s today is all,” Namjoon murmurs, his fingers clenching tightly around the food Hoseok gave him before he left.

Seokjin takes in his appearance. The dumpy dark gray sweatshirt Namjoon wears when it's one of those days, the dirty washed out converse, the black jeans that leave nothing up to the imagination, and the tired look on Namjoon’s face before Seokjin is drawing him into a hug. Namjoon doesn't cry, but he feels like he might again because Seokjin hasn't spoken to him in a week and now he's in his arms and he can feel his chest against his own and Namjoon has missed his best friend.

“I'm so sorry, Joon-ah,” Seokjin whispers.

Namjoon pats his back. “It's okay.”

For the first time in a while, Namjoon doesn't think he's lying when he says those words.

  After Seokjin treated him to a home cooked dinner and some gross beer, Namjoon makes his way up the stairs to his own apartment.

He unlocks the door, takes off his shoes and closes the door behind him as he flicks the lights on.

“I'm home!” He calls out to no one in particular.

He should work on his paper, it isn’t going to write itself. But he decides that he can’t concentrate enough to even look at it. So he sighs and stretches his arms above his head.

Then he shoves his leftovers into the fridge, takes a nice, warm shower and looks at his naked body in the mirror. His hands skim across his chest, disappointed to still feel a softness there that he doesn't want to feel again, but he can admit that his chest looks flatter and his hips aren't as noticeable as before.

Namjoon is pleased to see that he's less curvy than he was a year ago.

He dresses in boxers and a white undershirt then throws himself into bed where he falls asleep.

He wakes up to soft knocking on his door that he isn't sure he really heard. He might have just imagined it, but then the sound rings out again and Namjoon grunts as he reluctantly gets out of bed.

Namjoon doesn't remember about his choice of clothing until he opens the door to a crying Jeongguk clad in a pretty black skirt and a tight shirt with a collar that dips downwards in a severe V to show off his clavicle. Suddenly, Namjoon is very aware of the fact that his shirt is very, very see-through and there's a reason why Jeongguk is trying hard not to look at his chest.

“Jeongguk-ah? What's wrong?” Namjoon asks, his arms not so subtly coming up to cover his chest.

“Hy-hyung, can I come i-in, please?” Jeongguk cries, wiping at his eyes to try and stop his crying.

Namjoon wordlessly steps away from the door and lets the younger man in. “Uh, give me a moment to put something on.”

Jeongguk nods his head and takes off his shoes politely before he sits down on Namjoon’s couch, staring at nothing and still crying. Namjoon closes his door, pushes the tissue box towards the younger as he passes by the couch, then rushes into his room to pull on a hoodie. He's back in the living room where Jeongguk is still crying and Namjoon’s not really sure what to do.

“Do you want some tea or coffee?” Namjoon asks, his voice low and soft.

Jeongguk looks up at him and mumbles, “Can I h-have milk instead?”

“Of course. Warm or cold?”

“W-warm.”

Namjoon nods and walks into his kitchen. He doesn't really spend a lot of time in here considering he can't cook for jack shit, but he can make tea and coffee and he can definitely heat up some fucking milk.

He can still hear Jeongguk crying, but he pushes that to the back of his head as he sets to work on the milk and making some tea for himself. He knows his hair must look like a birds nest so he uses the back of a spoon as a mirror while he tries to tame the rebellious blonde locks. He uses the same spoon to mix honey into his tea before he carefully makes his way back into the living room and hands Jeongguk his cup of milk. Namjoon sits as far as possible on the tiny couch as he can and tries to figure out what he should say as Jeongguk continues to cry and takes shallow sips of his milk.

“Do you, uh,” Namjoon starts, then clears his throat once he realizes how gruff his voice sounds. “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

Jeongguk sets his cup down and Namjoon figures he should do the same. “Do y-you promise not to t-tell Tae?”

Namjoon feels his brow furrow and he turns so he's facing Jeongguk all the way. “Depends. If it's something I think Taehyung should know, then I’ll tell him, but that all depends on what it is. So tell me, what happened Jeonggukkie? Weren't you supposed to be on your date right now?”

Jeongguk takes a deep breath and stares at his hands. “Yugyeom made f-fun of my skirt.”

Namjoon feels a heated coil of anger begin to rise in his stomach. “He did what?”

“We were g-gonna go midnight b-bowling. I agreed ‘cause I didn't really c-care where we went as long as I-I got it over with. I showed up early where we were supposed to m-meet and when he finally showed up, he s-started telling me that I shouldn't have worn the skirt, that it w-was weird for guys to wear s-skirts and it's gross and he doesn't w-wanna be seen with a t-tranny,” Jeongguk manages to say.

Namjoon bolts to his feet and stomps to his bedroom to pull on socks and some sweats. When he steps into the living room again, Jeongguk is watching him with wide, teary eyes. He doesn't say anything until Namjoon is shoving his feet into his shoes.

“Where are you g-going?”

“To beat the shit out of that asshole,” Namjoon spits through his teeth as he finally get his second shoe on.

“No, you're not.”

Namjoon stills and turns to look at the younger boy who’s still crying and who looks absolutely gorgeous in the skirt he wears and Namjoon really wants to just fucking kiss him.

“Why the hell not? He deserves it!”

Jeongguk makes his away around the couch and lays his hand on Namjoon’s forearm before he starts pulling the elder back into the living room. Namjoon should kick off his shoes, but he's afraid he’ll fall if he tries to do that while Jeongguk is leading him back towards the couch.

“He may deserve it, but if I wanted his ass kicked, I would've gone to Taehyung’s.”

Namjoon stills and Jeongguk comes to a stop beside him.

“Why are you here then?” Namjoon feels like it isn't him who’s speaking right now, but it's definitely his mouth that's moving as he forms the words.

Jeongguk is staring at him like the sun shines out of his ass and Namjoon is screwed.

“Because I'm not making the same mistake twice. I know you like me, hyung, and I know why you don't want to date, but can you at least let me try, please?” Jeongguk bites on his bottom lip and Namjoon very much wants to kiss him.

Namjoon is beyond confused and he doesn't know how Yugyeom being a total jackass to Jeongguk made the younger think he should try to fix things with Namjoon, but Namjoon knows he's in no position to refuse Jeongguk’s offer right now. He can still hear Jimin’s voice telling him to either get his shit together or forget about Jeongguk once and for all.

But Namjoon doesn't want to forget about Jeongguk at all. He doesn't want to forget about the tiny mole underneath Jeongguk’s bottom lip. He doesn't want to forget about the way the younger man’s hair curls around his ears when he lets it air dry because he’s in a rush. He doesn't want to forget how Jeongguk always bites on his bottom lip when he's nervous or when he thinks that he's asking for too much or when he's just shy. He doesn't want to forget about the gleam that forms in his eyes when he gets competitive. He doesn't want to forget the feeling of his hand in his, the sound of his voice. He doesn't want to forget how he sounds like when he sings, when he laughs, and when he slips into his natural Busan dialect. He doesn't want to forget about how Jeongguk looks like a bunny when he eats. And he definitely doesn't want to forget about the way it feels to have Jeongguk close, by his side, and in his arms.

Namjoon doesn't want to forget about Jeongguk.

So, Namjoon, he nods his head and lets Jeongguk pull him close until their chests are bumping against each other and their lips are a hairsbreadth away from one another. Namjoon lets his eyes flutter shut when Jeongguk's soft lips press against his own and he feels a hot flash of something rocket straight towards his groin. He lets Jeongguk lead them to his bedroom and kick off his shoes. Namjoon lets the younger push him into the mattress and straddle his waist and kiss him breathless. He lets his hands pull the younger closer until all he feels is Jeongguk pressed against him and then suddenly Namjoon is pulling his hoodie over his head and he’s guiding Jeongguk’s hands up his undershirt until they're cupping his chest. Namjoon lets the younger kiss him and fondle him, but he doesn't let them go any further than that.

Jeongguk doesn't push it. He knows that this is as far as Namjoon will go and he lets the elder tuck him into his bed with a few good night kisses before Namjoon throws himself onto his couch. Namjoon didn't expect for his day to end so eventfully, but he can't say that he regrets it really. He closes his eyes and lets sleep envelop him for the second time that night.

When he wakes up, he’s greeted by a mess of black hair and a warm body pressed against his on the couch. Namjoon smiles and kisses Jeongguk’s nose before he lets himself sleep for a little while more.

Jeongguk nestles into his chest and sighs into Namjoon’s neck and Namjoon’s really glad the younger didn't wear his special cologne for his date with Yugyeom last night.

  Jeongguk becomes clingy after that.

Namjoon wouldn't mind it if he also wasn't a person who needed their space from to time to time and Jeongguk was always in his space.

He really likes the kid and he likes that they kiss and hold hands now and lay sprawled out across Namjoon’s living room studying and working on homework, but Namjoon needs space. Jeongguk can’t always be wrapped up in his arms and in his apartment and sleeping in his bed with him. It's nice having someone to keep him company when he's at home in his tiny one roomed apartment, but it's terrifyingly domestic seeing Jeongguk in his kitchen more often than Seokjin.

Jeongguk even has overnight clothes in Namjoon’s drawers now. Despite the fact that Namjoon isn’t one hundred percent happy about all the time they spend together, he still washes Jeongguk’s clothes come laundry day.

They aren’t even dating. Not officially, but it's not like Taehyung cares. He's just happy to see his best friend and his boyfriend’s best friend finally happy. Jimin tells Namjoon not to screw it up, but even Yoongi is concerned about how much of his time is spent with Jeongguk. Yoongi understands about Namjoon needing his space, he gets the same way most days and usually locks himself up in the studio until Jimin or Hoseok drag him out, but Namjoon has never had to worry about that. His apartment has always been his place and his alone. Namjoon needing his space is the only reason he and Seokjin don't live together anymore, even though they live in the same apartment complex.

But Jeongguk is always in his space and Namjoon feels like screaming.

Jeongguk asking for a key to his place is when Namjoon finally puts his foot down.

“Gukkie-ah, don't you think we're spending too much time together?” Namjoon is going for the gentle approach, but Jeongguk is overly sensitive so Namjoon has to pick his words carefully.

Jeongguk’s excited grin falls into a pout and Namjoon wants to kiss him until he’s giggling. “What do you mean, hyung?”

“I mean, when’s the last time you hung out with your friends? With Taehyung?”

“Hyung, we saw him yesterday, with Seokjin-hyung when we went out to eat at that diner,” Jeongguk says and tilts his head like he’s confused about why Namjoon is asking him this.

Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. Jeongguk’s resorting to the dreaded “we” now and Namjoon feels his fingertips start to tingle. “When was the last time you hung out with Taehyung, just the two of you, Jeonggukkie?”

“Three weeks ago.”

Namjoon gasps dramatically, aiming for scandalized and probably only reaching comedic. “No wonder Taehyung has been giving me dirty looks. He thinks I'm stealing his best friend and keeping him all to myself.”

Namjoon pulls Jeongguk into his arms and tries to cackle, but ends up choking instead and Jeongguk has to pat his back in between his giggles.

“Hyung! Tae doesn't think that. Are you kidding? He practically moved in with Seokjin-hyung already and they've been dating a month. When's the last time you saw Jin-hyung, just the two of you?” Jeongguk asks, an amused look on his face.

“Five weeks ago,” Namjoon says sheepishly and then a thought strikes him. “Actually, Seokjinnie-hyung wanted me to go to the movies with him this weekend. Said he misses me terribly and hates not being able to see me when he wants anymore.”

Jeongguk nibbles on his bottom lip as he looks up into Namjoon’s face. “He said that?”

Namjoon nods. “Mhhm.”

“I guess I have been keeping you all to myself recently, but it's just thatー” Jeongguk pauses and only continues when Namjoon coaxes him into talking again. “I’m not used to having things to myself. I've always had to share and I-I really like you, hyung, and I didn't think that anybody would m-mind if I took up most of your time.”

Namjoon feels guilty now and undoubtedly so since he kind of just lied to Jeongguk, but Namjoon really needs one night away from him to clear his head and get himself into gear. He needs to think about whether they should make things official or not, but Namjoon needs to think about that away from Jeongguk. Whenever they're together, Namjoon is drunk off the smell, the look, and the feeling of Jeongguk in his arms. Then he goes insane over the fact that all his stuff is being touched by Jeongguk and nothing he owns is sacred anymore, even the packer he never uses. Jeongguk had put that on his head and chased Namjoon around his apartment asking for a kiss until Namjoon tripped on the couch and Jeongguk had to ice his ankle with the damn packer still on his fucking head.

Namjoon needs a clear head if he's going to take a step forward with Jeongguk.

Namjoon kisses the younger, long and sweet and his blood is thrumming in his veins when Jeongguk kisses him back.

When they break apart, Namjoon keeps his eyes closed and lets their noses bump against one another. “Sorry, Gukkie-ah. But I do kind of need this night with hyung. I wanna think about certain things with you not around ‘cause you drive me insane and it's hard to think whenever I have you like this.”

Jeongguk pecks his lips and nuzzles his nose into Namjoon’s cheek. “What is it that you need to think about hyung?”

Namjoon smiles and Jeongguk pokes one of his dimples. “That's for me to know and you to find out.”

The younger man pouts and Namjoon laughs before kissing him again. “That's not fair, hyung.”

“Don't worry, baby.” Namjoon doesn't realize what he just said until Jeongguk is looking at him wide-eyed and in awe.

“What?”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “You called me baby.”

Namjoon freezes. “Did I?”

“Yeah.”

“D-do you mind if I call you baby?” Namjoon asks.

Jeongguk smiles and draws Namjoon closer into his embrace. “No. I like it.”

Namjoon lets out a breath in relief and laughs again. “That's ‘cause you are a baby.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“You're mean, hyung.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Baby,” Namjoon huffs.

Jeongguk just giggles and kisses Namjoon before he walks off into the elder’s kitchen. “Your baby.”

Namjoon doesn't say anything.

  Seokjin readily agrees to the impromptu movie date with Namjoon for that Friday and that makes it easier for Namjoon to breathe whenever he and Jeongguk are together.

Jeongguk cuts back on his time spent with Namjoon though and Namjoon is glad that the younger is giving him some much needed space. Still, whenever Jeongguk isn’t around, he gets a bit antsy and starts twisting the ends of his hair in his fingers.

Namjoon knows he's gotten attached, but Jeongguk is just as attached if the constant Kakao messages from Taehyung about Jeongguk not shutting up about him are anything to go by. It might be a little unhealthy the way they tend to gravitate towards one another, but Namjoon has been waiting really long to have the younger in his arms. He needs his space, he really does, but he’s starting to not mind having Jeongguk around. It's comforting and Jeongguk is nice and he’s warm.

Namjoon thinks he might love him.

It doesn't stop him from knocking on Seokjin's door that Friday night at 20:30 on the dot. Seokjin answers and gives Namjoon a hug that's a bit longer than usual since they haven't been alone together ever since the night of Jeongguk’s date with Yugyeom. Namjoon pats the elder’s back then coughs awkwardly and Seokjin lets him go, his face a bit pink. They walk down the steps and into the garage where Seokjin’s car waits for them.

Seokjin, ever the gentleman, opens Namjoon’s door for him and Namjoon slips inside the car. The elder is quickly buckling his seatbelt in the driver’s side and Namjoon waits silently for Seokjin to start the car, his seatbelt already buckled.

Then they're off and Namjoon laughs when Seokjin smashes his hand on his console to change the radio station since a song he hates came on.

“Shut up,” Seokjin mutters under his breath, his eyes on the road now that the light has turned green.

Namjoon can only laugh louder as he sings off-tune to the rock song Seokjin put on. Seokjin has a small smile on his lips as he drives and Namjoon rolls his window down to let the wind blow through his hair. Seokjin grumbles about his hair being ruined, but Namjoon just laughs again and ruffles the elder’s hair. Seokjin shoots him a disapproving stare until he’s pulling into the movie theatre’s parking lot.

They park and Namjoon links his arm with Seokjin’s as they walk down the steps and make it towards the main exit of the parking lot. Seokjin pauses to stare at his hair in the window of a bar and Namjoon laughs as he helps the elder fix his hair.

“Brat,” Seokjin murmurs before he pulls Namjoon into his side as they walk under the bright marquee displaying the newest movies being shown at the movie theatre.

Namjoon wiggles beside him, not really minding that Seokjin has a hand on his waist since this is their usual way of being together, but now that they both aren’t technically available, Namjoon thinks he should feel weird about the way they look like a couple right now. They’ve always been perceived as one though and Namjoon takes a deep breath and lets it go. Seokjin rubs his thumb into Namjoon’s hips like he can read his mind and he probably does have an idea about what’s on his mind, but he says nothing about it and Namjoon lets the elder lead him towards the short line to buy their tickets.

Seokjin shoves his hand into Namjoon’s back pocket and Namjoon opens his mouth to say something until he realizes that the elder is pulling his wallet out to pay for their tickets.

“That broke, hyung?” Namjoon asks.

“You invited me, so you’re paying,” Seokjin chuckles as he unwraps his arms from around Namjoon and takes out the necessary won he needs to pay for both their tickets.

Namjoon scoffs when Seokjin shoves his wallet back into Namjoon’s back pocket and wraps his arms around the younger again after getting their tickets. “Fine, but you’re paying for food.”

Seokjin grunts and awkwardly pushes Namjoon forward towards the doors. “I’m only buying it now. If you come in to get food during the middle of the movie, you have to pay for it yourself, Joonie.”

Namjoon laughs and pushes Seokjin until the elder is back at his side again instead of uncomfortably plastered to his back. Seokjin pouts and Namjoon pats his cheek before he gives the employee that waits just past the front doors a sheepish smile. Seokjin hands the girl their tickets and waits for her to tear off the stubs and hand them back before he herds Namjoon towards the concession stand. Namjoon lets Seokjin cling to him as they order their food, but tears the elder away from him once they’re being given their nachos and slurpees and salted pretzels with cheese. Seokjin mumbles something about having a sleepover with pizza after the movie’s over. Namjoon chuckles and gives the elder a maybe.

They’re a bit early for their movie, but that means they get first dibs on what seats they want. Namjoon leads the way up the steps to the topmost row of seats and plants himself right underneath the projector. Seokjin sits on his left and hands him his slurpee while Namjoon puts his pretzel in the elder’s lap. Namjoon laughs when Seokjin remembers they forgot to buy popcorn.

“We don’t need it, hyung,” Namjoon chuckles.

Seokjin lets out an overly-dramatic scandalized gasp as he stands up. “Popcorn is a vital factor to having a terrific movie experience. You’re not the dongsaeng I raised.”

Namjoon cackles and Seokjin leans over to press his lips to the younger’s hair. “I’ll be right back, Joonie.”

Namjoon blushes and watches Seokjin leave, barely taking notice of the person who slips into the movie theatre after Seokjin has left. They’re wearing a red hoodie that Namjoon thinks he’s seen before and they move quickly, taking a seat at the end of Namjoon’s row where Namjoon is, like, ninety-five percent sure that person isn’t able to see the trailers that are being shown. He forgets about it when Seokjin returns with a large tub of popcorn and a hand ruffling Namjoon’s hair as he sits down. Namjoon frowns at him and vainly tries to fix whatever damage Seokjin has done to his hair before he lets the elder feed him a tortilla chip lathered in cheese and chili. Namjoon gives him a sip of his slurpee and then he’s made aware of three girls who are sitting in front of them laughing as they turn in their seats to stare at Namjoon and Seokjin.

Seokjin tenses beside him and Namjoon doesn’t like the way the girls are looking at them.

“Just ignore them,” Namjoon whispers, his eyes on his food as he starts to tear his pretzel into tiny, bite-sized pieces.

He dips a piece into his cheese and holds it out for the elder to eat. Seokjin eyes it warily, gives the girls who are still staring at them a heated glare before he leans in and takes the piece of pretzel into his mouth. Namjoon coos appreciatively and wipes at the corner of Seokjin’s mouth with a napkin and Seokjin, despite the staring girls in front of them, smiles and wipes at Namjoon’s nose where chili from his nachos has ended up.

“Cute,” one girl says, practically sending them heart eyes and Namjoon, even in the near dark of the movie theatre can see that the back of Seokjin’s neck is turning red.

Namjoon coughs and thanks every deity out there for the lights finally turning off and the big screen becoming brighter, filled with flashing images that he doesn’t really pay attention to. Namjoon’s not quite sure why Seokjin picked out this movie to watch, but it’s dreadfully boring and halfway through he’s finished all his food. Seokjin gives him a pitying look and hands him a few won to buy a soda from the concession stand. Namjoon smiles and tells the elder to not waste telling him what he missed if he comes back.

He’s hyperaware of the fact that the hooded person is following him, but he chalks it down to coincidence. They may just have to go to the bathroom and when he gets into line, his suspicions are balked when the hooded person makes a beeline for the men’s restroom. Namjoon sighs, inexplicably relieved and orders his soda. He forgets about the hooded person and loiters about for a bit near the concession stand until he sits down on the bench that's in front of the restrooms.

Then Red Hoodie is stepping out of the bathroom and Namjoon almost drops his soda when he realizes it's Jeongguk. He's wearing a fake mustache, sunglasses, and a snapback on under his hoodie. Namjoon would laugh at how ridiculous he looks if he also wasn't just a tiny bit pissed off.

“Jeongguk-ah.” Namjoon’s voice is rough and there's a tenor to it that shows he's mad.

Jeongguk stills and reluctantly sits down with Namjoon on the bench when the elder pats the empty space beside him. Jeongguk sits on the far end of the bench and Namjoon sets his drink down so he can glare at him.

“What are you doing here?”

The younger takes his sunglasses off and pushes the hoodie back. Namjoon wants to be mad, he really does, but Jeongguk looks like a knock-off Mario and Namjoon finds it absolutely hilarious.

“Came to see the movie, hyung,” Jeongguk answers timidly.

Namjoon tilts his head to the side and stares at the younger man beside him. “Oh yeah? So you just happened to be here wearing that ridiculous disguise? Sure you're not spying on me and hyung, Jeongguk-ah?”

Jeongguk bites his lip and finally nods his head. “I'm sorry.”

“Why are you spying on us?”

“Becauseー” Jeongguk pauses and takes a deep breath. “Because I thought you two were on a date and the way you've been touching each other tonight only made me think that more. Why do you let hyung touch you like that, but you won't let me?”

Namjoon is definitely pissed. He doesn't have time for this kid’s overactive imagination and he one hundred percent does not have time for Jeongguk’s petty jealousy. Not now or ever. It's not “hot” having the younger be possessive enough to follow him and his best friend to the movies. It's disgusting and it's unhealthy.

“You had no right to follow us, Jeongguk-ah. Just because you're jealous doesn't give you any actual reason to do this. It's gross, Jeongguk-ah. Relationships are about trust and if you're going to get like this,” Namjoon waves a hand at the younger, pointing at his get up, “then I think we should break up.”

“Break up?” Jeongguk’s voice is low. “But w-we aren't even dating, hyung!”

Namjoon crosses his arms over his chest and glares. “And we never will if you keep this up.”

Jeongguk takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair and over his face. “Hyung, I'm sorry. I was justー”

“You were just what, Jeonggukkie?”

“Scared,” Jeongguk whispers.

Namjoon sighs and holds his hand out for the younger to take. He doesn't like jealousy in a partner, he really doesn't, but he really likes Jeongguk and he knows that he’d really like to date him. If Jeongguk is going to be like this though, then Namjoon doesn't want to waste his time stuck in another unhealthy relationship. He should let the younger man know what he's doing is wrong though. It's wrong to do something this extreme when he's feeling jealous. Namjoon isn't an object, he's a person with a mind of his own and he has feelings. Jeongguk needs to know this.

“Jeongguk. It's wrong to do this. Do you understand that?” Namjoon waits for the younger to nod his head. “I'm not your property. I'm a human being with crazy emotions and I make my own decisions. You can't do this every time I go out somewhere with Seokjin-hyung, or maybe Jimin-ah, or even Tae! It's wrong and it's embarrassing and it makes me mad, Jeongguk-ah.”

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jeongguk ducks his head and Namjoon thinks he might be crying again, but Namjoon isn’t going to let him off the hook so easily like that.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be sorry. I’m telling hyung and Tae-ah what you did.”

Namjoon uses his free hand to pull his phone out of his back pocket and starts scrolling through Kakao to find his conversation thread with the two men he just mentioned. Jeongguk says nothing and scoots a bit closer as he squeezes the elder’s hand.

“Hyung, I was scared, okay?” Jeongguk begins. “I’ve never dated before and the only times the people I’ve liked have seemed to like me back is when they wanted to use that against me to hurt me. High school was the worst. This one senior I thought was really cute kissed me in front of everybody during gym class then pulled my shorts and underwear down. Taehyung kicked his ass once he heard, but the possibility of Taehyung beating them up hasn’t stopped the other people who pretended to be interested in me.”

Namjoon feels sick now. He understands what Jeongguk means though. Every person he’s ever been with has been toxic for Namjoon and he guesses that he has that in common with the younger. The thought makes his heart churn and Namjoon wants to make sure that no one hurts Jeongguk ever again.

“I know people have been shitty to you in the past, trust me, I understand that much more than you think, but that doesn’t excuse what you did here, Jeongguk-ah,” Namjoon says, still trying to press his point with the younger.

Jeongguk scoots even closer and cups Namjoon’s hand with both of his. “I know it doesn’t hyung and I know you do, but I was scared. I really thought that you and Seokjin-hyung were on a date and I started thinking that maybe you both were just stringing me and TaeTae-hyung along for fun.”

Namjoon’s palm itches and he kind of feels like slapping Jeongguk for thinking so low of him and his best friend, but Namjoon understands, he really does. He’d done this exact thing to Seokjin on his first date with Taehyung and Seokjin had given him a long, long lecture about not thinking the worst about people. Taehyung was nice and he treated Seokjin like a king and Namjoon is still pretty ashamed about following them on their dinner date, but at the time he was just trying to protect his friend. Jeongguk followed them tonight because he was trying to protect his friend and his own heart. Namjoon sighs and pulls the younger closer until he’s sitting on his lap.

“I’m still mad at you, but I can forgive you. You have to promise you won’t do this again, Jeongguk-ah. It’s really unhealthy and I don’t want us to have a toxic relationship. I really like you and I want to be with you, but you have to trust me and my feelings for you. I wouldn’t let anybody kiss me you know,” Namjoon huffs, burying his nose into Jeongguk’s hair. “They have to be really special to me and I don’t like it when people touch me either. I want to make this work with you, but I can’t do that if you don’t trust me, alright?”

Jeongguk nods glumly and nestles himself into the elder’s chest. “Okay. I’m sorry, hyung, I really am. I promise not to do this again. Next time, we’ll talk about it like civilized adults. I was just scared.”

Namjoon laughs. “You have no reason to be scared, baby. I like you and you like me and that’s it. Put your trust in that.”

“Tell my brain that.”

“I’m telling you this, Jeonggukkie. I like you and I want us to date, but we need to talk about a few things.”

“Like what?” Jeongguk asks.

“About how much time we spend together. It’s reallyー” Namjoon bites his lip and pauses before he continues. “It’s really suffocating having you so close and in my space so often. It freaked me out at first, if I’m being honest. I’m a person who sometimes just needs to be alone so that I can function properly, but you were always around and it drove me crazy. Don’t take it as I don’t want you around, because I do want you near me, just not all the time.”

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, I-I kinda figured, hyung. You’d get this panicky look in your eyes sometimes when I’d go to hug you or when you’d find me in your kitchen making food. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. I promise to cut back on our time together.”

Namjoon kisses the top of his head and hugs the younger man tightly. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. And remember, if you’re worried about anything, you can talk to me and we can discuss it together. That’s what relationships are about.”

“Are you saying that you’re finally ready to date me, hyung?”

Namjoon tilts Jeongguk’s head up, pulls off the fake mustache that he still has on and kisses him. Their lips slot together softly and Namjoon kinda feels like his bigger lips drown Jeongguk’s smaller ones, but it’s fine. Jeongguk still makes his presence known by letting his hand trail up to cup Namjoon’s head and bring it down so he's closer to the younger and breathes out a tiny sigh when Namjoon’s hand grips his waist. The kiss is indescribably soft and Namjoon feels a haze begin to cloud his thoughts as Jeongguk continues to kiss him. Jeongguk is warm and pliant in his arms and Namjoon is suddenly aware of the younger man’s barely there erection pressing into his abdomen as he leans over Jeongguk. Namjoon’s mind flashes to the fact that he doesn’t own a strap-on that’s supposed to be used for sex and then he remembers that Taehyung took his measurements for new pants last week so he can just ask the fashion designer to share those with him tomorrow.

Jeongguk is the first to pull away and there’s a soft smile on his face that makes Namjoon’s heart beat rapidly in his chest.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?” Namjoon hums.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m not mad about what you did though,” Namjoon says.

Jeongguk smiles and nods. “I understand. I’d be upset as well. Despite that, thank you for agreeing to be my boyfriend.”

Namjoon laughs and kisses the younger again. They sit on the bench and wait for Seokjin to finish watching the movie and stand up together, hand-in-hand, when the elder steps out into the main lobby. He spots them and Namjoon is only slightly surprised to find Taehyung trailing after him.

“Yours came too, huh?” Seokjin asks as he nears them and lifts a brow in question.

Namjoon nods and grunts when the elder throws an arm around his shoulders and turns them so that they’re facing their boyfriends. “Whatever shall we do with them?”

“I don’t know about you, but a massage sounds really good right about now,” Namjoon murmurs wickedly and slips his arm around the elder’s waist as they start making their way towards the exit.

Seokjin laughs. “You read my mind.”

The two older men laugh when Jeongguk and Taehyung rush to open the doors for them and follow them dutifully outside.

“How’d you guys get here, anyway?” Seokjin asks as they walk towards the parking lot.

Taehyung shrugs. “A cab.”

“Then you can take a cab back,” Seokjin chuckles and waves goodbye as he leads Namjoon towards his car. “See you at my place!”

Namjoon waves at the two younger men with a smirk on his face, but he can tell that they aren’t going to complain. They’re both on thin ice and are being punished for following them tonight, so they are going to do as they’re told.

Seokjin cackles just a tiny bit too gleefully when they pull out from the parking lot and see Taehyung and Jeongguk struggling to get a cab. He shows mercy by pulling over and telling them to hop in before he changes his mind.

Namjoon rolls his window down and sings along off-key to the radio at the top of his lungs with Seokjin as they drive back home.

  His fingers are tingling a little and his knees shake. Namjoon feels like he might just vomit, but he needs to knock on this door and he needs to get his wits together.

Namjoon takes a deep breath and knocks.

Jeongguk opens the door almost immediately, as if he was waiting behind it for Namjoon to knock. He’s wearing a shimmery black dress and Namjoon feels his heart splutter in his chest. They’re going on their first official date and Namjoon feels like he might go insane if he has to look at Jeongguk in that dress all night.

“You look really, really cute,” Namjoon manages to say between his wheezing breaths.

He’s completely thrown off-guard when Jeongguk drags him inside and attacks his lips. The door is being kicked closed behind Namjoon as the younger leads him towards his bedroom and Namjoon is overly excited.

They haven’t been intimate yet, but Namjoon has been prepared for a few weeks now just in case. Except that everything he prepared is back at his place, not in Jeongguk’s dorm room. But before he can really say anything, they’re in Jeongguk’s room, the door locked and Namjoon awkwardly sprawled out on Jeongguk’s bed.

Jeongguk is straddling his lap then and his lips are persistent against Namjoon’s and the elder feels like he’s swimming. Jeongguk is soft and warm and Namjoon is drunk off the feel of him. He really wants to bed the younger, but this is the night of their first date and Namjoon is going to take Jeongguk out for dinner no matter what. So he grips onto the younger man’s wrists and rolls them over so he’s looming over the younger who’s now pinned to the mattress. They’re both breathing heavily and Namjoon swallows, his throat feeling dry as he tries to speak.

“Baby, we’re going to dinner,” Namjoon whispers.

Jeongguk pouts and easily wiggles out of Namjoon’s grip on his wrists. “But I want you, hyung.”

“I know, baby, trust me I know.” Namjoon doesn’t mean to roll his hips down on Jeongguk’s erection, but it kind of, just, happens and the moan Jeongguk makes spikes a hot flash of arousal through Namjoon. “But I promised you a proper date and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“But, hyungー” Jeongguk whines.

Namjoon kisses him softly and rises from the bed. “No buts. We’re going to dinner and then we’re going to go back to my place afterward.”

Jeongguk sits up on his elbow and quirks a brow up in question. “What will we do at your place?”

“Well, I bought a new strap-on, more lube, and a box of condoms with our names on them,” Namjoon says with a straight face as he fixes his shirt. “And maybe we’ll be able to try them out if you behave and let me take you out on a proper date, Jeonggukkie.”

The younger man’s pupils dilate and he nods his head fervently before he gets up from his bed and excitedly takes Namjoon’s hand. “Let’s go!”

Namjoon laughs and lets Jeongguk drag him towards the door where he has to stop and remind the younger that his semi is noticeable in the dress. Jeongguk blushes and Namjoon takes off his jacket so Jeongguk can hold it in front of him as they walk out into the dorm’s hallway and steadily make their way outside where Seokjin’s car awaits them. Seokjin let Namjoon borrow it for the night and is supposed to knock on the elder’s door as soon as they get to his place to return the keys. Namjoon isn’t sure he’ll get the chance to do that though since Taehyung is supposed to be over tonight and he knows that those two are loud when they get together. He shakes his head and pushes the thought away to open Jeongguk’s door for him and waits until his boyfriend is properly seated before he shuts his door. He quickly walks around to his side of the car and climbs in. Then they’re off and halfway through the ride, Jeongguk gives Namjoon his jacket back.

He doesn’t say anything, he does his best not to laugh, but Jeongguk still pouts once he catches sight of the amused smile on Namjoon’s face.

Neither of the two men say anything until they’re pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot and Namjoon is opening Jeongguk’s door. Jeongguk hesitates and Namjoon leans in to give the younger a peck on the lips.

“If anyone says anything, I will kick their ass. Don’t worry, baby. You look magnificent in that dress. Did Tae-ah make it for you?” Namjoon whispers.

Jeongguk smiles and takes the hand the elder gives him. He steps out of the car and Namjoon closes it behind him before he locks the sleek vehicle. Jeongguk stays close to Namjoon’s side as they walk towards the bright lights of the restaurant.

“Yeah, Tae said the material and shade really suited my skintone,” Jeongguk murmurs.

“Well, he wasn’t wrong,” Namjoon chuckles and then they’re inside and face-to-face with the maitre’d. “The Kims.”

Jeongguk is positively glowing by the time they’re led to their table near the back of the restaurant. Namjoon feels like he isn’t going to make it to dessert if Jeongguk doesn’t stop trying to play footsie with him under the table. Jeongguk just smirks and orders a dish that’s filled with phallic food and takes his time sucking on an array of things as they eat. Namjoon gulps and tries to focus on the fact that no one even looked twice when they saw Jeongguk in a dress.

Namjoon has asked before about whether Jeongguk may identify as a girl, but Jeongguk had told him that wasn’t the case at all. He just likes skirts and dresses and he likes being a boy too. Namjoon had nodded, he understood, and they hadn’t talked about it again. He has to admit, Jeongguk looks really, really handsome in his new dress as well so he tells the younger this and theyー

They end up skipping dessert.

  Jeongguk bounces as he flops onto Namjoon’s bed, the skirt of his dress is hiked up around his thighs and Namjoon’s shirt is unbuttoned as he climbs atop the younger.

Namjoon lets his lips press briefly against Jeongguk’s chapped ones before he’s taking off the rest of his shirt and slips out of his jeans as well. Jeongguk sits up to push Namjoon’s briefs off and looks up at the elder in question when he reaches for his binder. Namjoon nods and Jeongguk smiles before he peels it off the elder and lets his tongue stroke the pert, brown nipple of Namjoon’s right breast. Namjoon groans and brings the younger closer.

The mattress shifts under their weight as Jeongguk turns them over so that Namjoon’s head is resting on the pillows now. This is the first time that Namjoon has been naked in front of someone ever since he really became a man. This is also the first time that Namjoon has had sex in over two years.

There’s a feeling in his chest that engulfs him when Jeongguk stands to let the dress slide down his figure and Namjoon’s mouth is left watering. Jeongguk wears nothing underneath the shiny material and Namjoon isn’t sure how he didn’t notice that before.

Jeongguk’s naked body makes Namjoon’s mouth go dry. Namjoon is aware that the younger man exercises and weight lifts sometimes, when he has the time at least, but seeing the proof of it right in front of him makes Namjoon go weak in the knees. Jeongguk’s abdomen is toned and lined and all the elder can think about is licking it. Jeongguk’s body is lanky and muscular, but it's barely noticeable and Namjoon is a hundred percent certain that Jeongguk could pick him up and throw him clean across the room if he wanted to. Namjoon wants to mark up the V lines leading towards Jeongguk’s groin with tiny little love bites just to prove to anybody else who sees them that yes, Namjoon was there and Namjoon will be the only one there for a long time, thank you very much.

“Wow,” Namjoon lets out appreciatively.

Jeongguk smiles and slowly straddles Namjoon’s legs. “Wow yourself.”

And Namjoon, despite always being the one to be so collected, blushes like a schoolgirl and hides behind his hands. Jeongguk laughs and kisses his chin and forehead and whatever else he can reach before Namjoon is laughing too and his hands have fallen away from his face.

Their lips slot together with a strange squelching sound that Namjoon wants to laugh at, but is too busy drowning in his feelings for Jeongguk to really do so.

It scared him before. To let himself feel what he already knows. He likes Jeongguk more than he should, but it isn't one-sided and it's far from unbalanced. Jeongguk is right here with him. Not in front leading, or behind following Namjoon’s lead.

Jeongguk is beside him and over him and under him and all around.

They're matched and perfectly paired.

The realization makes it easier for Namjoon to let Jeongguk help him into the harness and put the strap-on correctly. The realization makes it easier for Namjoon to focus on Jeongguk and the telltale signs his body is giving while Namjoon pleasures him. The realization makes it easier for Namjoon to lay there on his bed, naked, and let Jeongguk stare as much as he wants without a hint of self-loathing marring Namjoon’s thoughts.

The realization makes it easier for Namjoon to accept that he's in love and he isn't scared anymore.

After Namjoon’s been buckled into his harness properly, Jeongguk suckles on the toy, keeping eye contact with Namjoon as he does. Namjoon doesn't exactly feel it when Jeongguk’s mouth sinks lower on the toy, but Namjoon does feel it in a strange way. It's the same way that someone is aware of when the soles on the bottom of their shoes are skimming across pavement or grass or sand or hard packed dirt and even gravel. It's the same way that someone is able to tell when their hair is caught on something or when they feel the slightest touch of a fingertip caress the tips of their strands. It isn't any different, Namjoon thinks, but the effect is. The effect is Namjoon left gaping as Jeongguk takes pleasure in deepthroating Namjoon’s strap-on.

He takes his time stretching Jeongguk open once the younger has let the strap-on slip from his mouth. Jeongguk doesn't complain. He merely whines and groans and bucks his hips downwards to meet the crook of Namjoon’s fingers scissoring him and pressing against the spot that makes Jeongguk keen the most. It's awkward doing it while Namjoon lies flat on his back, but Jeongguk is flexible enough for it to be doable. Jeongguk is fucking himself on three of Namjoon’s fingers and Namjoon doesn't think he's ever been this aroused before in his life.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk groans. “Hyung, Iー”

Namjoon stills his fingers and stares at the younger who’s still moving, still riding Namjoon’s digits. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want you.”

“You have me,” Namjoon whispers.

When Jeongguk smiles, it's like the dawn has risen over a new day and Namjoon can’t quite catch his breath. There's a glowing flush spreading across Jeongguk’s cheeks too. Namjoon can only stare as the younger rolls a condom on him, slicks him up with a bit more lube and slowly lowers himself atop the toy.

Namjoon cries out when Jeongguk leans down and bites his nipple. It sends a rush of arousal and slight pain through his system and then he feels the pressure of the younger’s weight on his hips and he knows that Jeongguk is moving. Namjoon should help, he should put some effort into this as well, but all he can really do is wiggle underneath Jeongguk. Jeongguk’s face is a light pink and covered in a barely there sheen of sweat and Namjoon thinks he looks gorgeous.

“H-hyung.”

“Hm?” Namjoon hums.

Jeongguk bites his lip and Namjoon takes it upon himself to kiss the younger’s lip free. Jeongguk blushes and gyrates his hips back onto the toy, letting out a moan that sets Namjoon’s skin on fire.

“C-Can I eat you out once I come?”

Namjoon feels his heart stop beating. Jeongguk stares at him, his hips stilling once he catches sight of the look on the elder’s face.

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?” Namjoon hears himself speak.

“Did you hear me?”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you okay with it?”

“Yes,” Namjoon breathes.

Jeongguk bites his lip and starts to move his hips again. “Are you sure?”

“Hell yeah.”

Jeongguk sighs, relieved, and pulls his knees up so that his hands are clamping down on Namjoon’s thighs now. He bounces on the toy and Namjoon groans as Jeongguk’s weight lands on him.

“Oh, fuck,” Namjoon groans when Jeongguk picks up his rhythm and keens.

It comes as a shock to Namjoon when Jeongguk moans, “Hyung, your cock feels s-so good.”

Namjoon doesn’t realize that he’s pulling the younger man down to grip his neck and throw an arm over his back until Jeongguk cries out. Namjoon has him pinned to his chest as his hips begin to move and pick up speed. He vaguely feels Jeongguk’s fingernails running across his shoulders, but Namjoon is too focused on finding the younger man’s prostate to really care. He pulls Jeongguk up a bit by the knees and pushes his way into the younger harshly, smiling when Jeongguk curses above him.

He's found Jeongguk’s prostate.

There’s sweat beading on his face as Namjoon continues to push his hips into Jeongguk, but it’s worth it when Jeongguk murmurs, “I’m gonna come, hyung.”

Namjoon keeps his pace and slows when Jeongguk cries out again, tears forming in his eyes, as his orgasm blows over him at full force. Jeongguk spurts out hot, white liquid in between their chests and Namjoon does his best to milk the younger through his orgasm.

Before Namjoon can catch his breath, Jeongguk is unbuckling the strap-on and lowering himself until he’s at eye-level with Namjoon’s crotch.

“Jeongguk-ah, you don’tー” Namjoon begins.

“I know,” Jeongguk interrupts before he smiles up at Namjoon and kisses his inner thigh. “But I want to. It’s only fair that we both get off anyways. So can I, please?”

Namjoon returns the grin and nods his head. “Alright.”

That’s all it takes for Jeongguk to dive right in and run his tongue from Namjoon’s taint up to his clitoris. Namjoon’s hips buck and he groans out as the younger uses his tongue to circle around Namjoon’s clitoris with sharp little movements, doing his best to touch where Namjoon wants him to. Namjoon’s skin feels on fire and watching Jeongguk fuck himself on the toy had been arousing enough that he could feel the sharp pain of his arousal, but it’s touching how persistent Jeongguk is on pleasuring Namjoon as well. He’s never had a partner like Jeongguk before and he hopes that he’ll never have to find a new one as well.

Jeongguk isn’t as inexperienced as Namjoon thought. He uses the rough pads of his fingertips to stimulate the elder and lathes his tongue where Namjoon is sensitive the most, grabbing hold of the lube that Namjoon hands to him soon after. Namjoon is taken aback at how skilled Jeongguk is and Jeongguk smirks up at him with a gleam in his eyes as he dribbles lubricant into his palm and blows on it to heat it up before he runs his hands all over Namjoon to drive him even closer to his own oncoming orgasm.

“Mm,” Jeongguk hums once he presses the flat of his tongue to Namjoon's crotch again. “You taste amazing, hyung.”

Namjoon grips the younger’s hair and pulls him closer to his groin, his toes curling with pleasure as Jeongguk continues with his ministrations. He cries out and feels his hips begin to move to match Jeongguk’s movements, feeling as if he's going crazy, and pretty soon Namjoon's orgasm crashes over him like waves beating upon the shore.

It’s intense and it’s hot and Namjoon doesn’t really know what’s going on because Jeongguk is still toying at his folds where the elder is considerably dripping a bit with the lube from before.

Then it’s over and Jeongguk is slowly pushing them into the shower where they help each other clean up and Namjoon props himself against the shower wall because his knees are still shaking.

Jeongguk laughs and kisses him and Namjoon kisses him right back.

  By the time that Namjoon is graduating, he and Jeongguk have been together for almost four months.

Namjoon should probably be worrying about whether his relationship with the younger will last now that they don’t attend the same university anymore, but he doesn’t. Namjoon’s been offered a position as a teacher’s aide for the English department and after two years of experience, he can try aiming for a teaching position as a Linguistics professor. It’s rare for a student to be taken on so suddenly, Namjoon knows that, but he also knows that the school appreciates his work and is heavily considering his potential enough that they’re willing to forgo all the rigorous requirements he should have fulfilled before becoming a professor. Jeongguk congratulates Namjoon on his achievement and they go out to celebrate with the others.

Seokjin and Taehyung are attached at the hip, in the midst of the whirlwind of their relationship. Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok act like an old married couple. Jeongguk grips Namjoon’s knee underneath the table and Namjoon is really glad to have these people by his side.

Everyone is doing well. Seokjin is working on getting a loan for the theater he wants to open up downtown and Yoongi’s songs have been picked up by a record label so he now works as a songwriter and producer. Hoseok is already making plans for the dance studio he wants to open up once he graduates from the university next year and a year after that, Jimin will join him. Taehyung’s designs have been noticed by one of his role models and his parents are finally going to let him drop out of school so he can really chase his dreams. Taehyung assures them all that he’s going to take his classes online though so he can at least have his degree. And Jeongguk, he plans to join Seokjin’s theater and Hoseok’s dance studio once he graduates in two years time.

Namjoon is glad they all have good things going for them and that they all have a plan about what they’re going to do with their lives.

That joy seems to pale in comparison to the joy of Namjoon realizing that Jeongguk has been slowly moving in over their few months spent together.

Namjoon hadn’t realized that Jeongguk’s red toothbrush or his favorite brands of shampoos and conditioners are in the bathroom. He’d barely noticed that Jeongguk’s shoes seem to clutter up his front door or that some of Jeongguk’s favorite things to eat are hidden away behind foods that Namjoon would never even dream of touching in the cupboards, pantry, and fridge. There’s more of Jeongguk’s clothes in Namjoon’s drawers and his closet and Jeongguk even washes both their clothes once laundry day comes around. The sweet old lady that lives next door to Namjoon is on a first-name basis with Jeongguk and often bakes him cookies that are honestly not half-bad.

Jeongguk spends more time over at Namjoon’s place than he does at the apartment he and Taehyung always share over the holidays, that Namjoon just got used to it.

He got used to waking up beside the younger man most mornings, sometimes naked, but usually not. He got used to brushing his teeth alongside Jeongguk when they get ready for the day and when they get ready for bed. He got used to seeing Jeongguk in his kitchen and on the couch watching a movie and lying on his stomach on the floor as they play a board game, or when they slept on the floor three nights in a row because of finals, or when they’re both reading. It was just natural to Namjoon when he came home late one night and found Jeongguk already asleep in bed, a bit of drool slobbering down from the corner of his mouth.

Namjoon got used to Jeongguk being in his space. It didn’t feel wrong anymore and it didn’t make the elder feel suffocated either.

It’s easy for him to shove a copy of the key to the apartment into Jeongguk’s hand on one summer morning. Jeongguk doesn’t say a word. He merely smiles and gives Namjoon a peck on the cheek before he strings the key onto his Iron Man lanyard.

Namjoon smiles and holds him after that.

He holds Jeongguk close for a long, long time.

#namkook #btssmutclub #bangtan bookclub #kwordsmiths #prettyboysnetwork #btsguild #betareadernet #bts #fluff #angst #smut #p:namjoon/jeongguk #f:kkfil #m: fic

[curiouskrp]

               “WELCOMING APT 5B TENANT, KIM YANI !

INFORMATION

age –  25 pronouns – she/her  occupation –  gs25 night manager moved into treehouse – six months ago

PERSONALITY: ISFP, THE ADVENTURER

positive –

artistic / passionate, obsessive, curious, imaginative, creative - over the years there have been many adjectives used to pinpoint yani’s ferocious obsession with the aesthetic, with knowledge and beauty. from painting to literature, film to sculpting, she’s busied overeager hands with innumerable past times. a bout of interest in sewing left over enthusiastic fingertips tinged in bloodied pinpricks, a season of interest in ceramics caked her nails in clay, a mishap with glassblowing burned her trachea and she lost her voice for a month.  her home is her workspace now, awash in warm colors and soft sketched lines, photographs strung up on the walls to examine with less tired eyes later - she’ll exhaust herself otherwise, staring at her work until a hypercritical eye begins to pick apart every minute detail, every miniscule flaw. her medium of choice in the moment, and for quite some time now has been photography, both digital and film. she works mostly with still images but has embarked on some video components. she has had her art in a few minor installations and featured in gallery shows, but has never had her own exhibit or show. 

charming / the most necessary to her success as both an artist and as a human being is the fact that yani is innately charming. warm, open, and bright she has an energy that is hard to resist. this is half by design, motivated by an obsessive need to be liked, which has prompted her to cultivate a sharp sense of humor and a dry wit to match. playful, hyperbolic, and creative, she can be a blast at parties or when in a group where she is able to play off the jokes and comments of others. however, leave her to her own devices in a one on one setting and she’s much more laid back and easy-going, preferring to let others steer the conversation. she’s got an easy grace and brightness to her disposition even when she falls into the macabre or dark, tinging it with a sense of humor.

negative –

unpredictable /  yani is not the friend you call at two in the morning for help, unless you’re looking to get really trashed and/or are okay with being left on read until a bleary and misspelled “sup?” at 4am. it isn’t intentional. yani is a slave to her emotions, moods and whims taking over each step of her life as she allows circumstance to pull her rough and tumble through the narration of her story. she seems almost a slave to impulse, which she may grandiose-ly chalk up to “leaving things up to fate” but in actuality is an effort to remove agency from her own hands due to a paralyzing fear of making weighty decisions. while she finds herself empathically able to relate to and understand the needs,  fears, and motives of others, she can easily become overwhelmed with this perceived information and find herself retreating without warning, lest she fail them in some way. her presence in life is both unpredictable and routine - she’ll flit in and out like a butterfly, appearing briefly to leave a mark before she retreats away again, always acting as if no time has passed. her personal moods are just as mercurial, vacillating wildly throughout the course of the day, or even across a number of hours. quick to anger and quicker still to apologize, she’s prone to impulse and erratic behavior that can be off-putting to those who prefer someone more stable and grounded. 

fluctuating self esteem / if you’re being kind, you’ll describe yani as sensitive. a bit empathic, too easily swayed by the emotions and feedback of others. she has a distinct lack of guard up against the world, for all her fronting to appear otherwise. the jaded exterior lasts for only a moment before it’s smashed by the reality of a girl with a heart on her sleeve. she wields a biting tongue against this like a lackluster defense mechanism, as if verbally lashing out at others can counteract how easily, how readily she can be hurt by them. while yani would often rather die than verbally express her feelings, fears, concerns, or worries in any real way, they’re very easily apparent even to the untrained eye. it frustrates her, how easily other people can read her ups and downs, of which there are many. she vacillates between an obsessive egotistical pride in herself and a damaging, truly deep set self loathing that eats up her insides. in reality she has no idea what she thinks about herself, if she’s  proud or not, and pulls all of her validation (as meager as it is) from external sources. thus, her self worth is immensely predicated on the actions, thoughts, and expression of those around her, leaving her incredibly vulnerable despite a veneer of a “devil may care” attitude that, in fact, persists long after the ruse is up.

HAUNT

how many ways can yani answer the question? 

is she haunted by her own failures? by choking in the middle of the entrance exams for university, clutching her chest in a violent panic attack in the bathroom and leaving with the test unfinished, summarily ruining her chances for higher education in the country of her birth that year? is she haunted by wasting her teenage years on booze and cigarettes and skateboards? is she haunted by pining after men and women that would never want her the way she wanted them, who relegated her to her childhood past of knobby knees and awkward limbs and dirt smudged cheeks, sunburnt and freckled from the sun that crested over the mountains?  is she haunted by the death of the one man who professed to love her, by the knowledge that she’d settled for him, had never been able to return the love he so generously gave her? is she haunted by the fear that she’d squandered her one chance of love and now it was summarily too late, and he was too far and too permanently gone, and she would now be punished for her ingratitude with years of nothing? is she haunted by her own propensity to run from the inevitable, to escape to distant locations only to realize her problems were still hers whether she be in paris or london or seoul?

it’s hard to say. 

maybe, in the end, yani is haunted by herself.

HISTORY

i. birth is an uneventful affair. she isn’t a planned baby but she isn’t unwelcome either, youngest of three by enough years that her older brothers dote on her in the abstract but aren’t really fans of actually having her around. it’s sort of a theme. her mother hires a nanny and goes back to work immediately - she took time off with the boys and she’s not willing to do it again. her father is as distant as he was with the elder two, unsurprisingly.

yani grows up this way, chasing after affection and attention, calling out for the same things that were doled out to the other two so easily. she wants her brothers to play with her - dolls or tag, she’s not picky, she’ll take what she can get. they play hide and seek but she always hides, and they never seek, just let the little girl coop herself up in the closet for a half an hour, or until she dozes off. eventually she stops asking.

 ii. she grows into the hand she’s been dealt. she wears a tan like a shield, testament to hours spent outside in the sun, relentlessly scrambling over the landscape. they live on the outskirts of a little town on jeju island, and the sun and surf and sand and rocks and mountains are her company. she takes after her brothers, athletic and enthusiastic, seemingly immune to the scraping of her knees and the scabs on her elbows, bruises on her shins.

yani feels the freest on the skateboard she inherits from her brother - or, more specifically, steals from his room when his interest in girls and his worry about entrance exams takes over his free time. in this way she learns two things: she can only rely on herself, and that she must always, always take that which she desires. 

 she spends hours on it, rolling through town to the ultimate displeasure of the ahjummas who sit outside the town hall and gossip. a girl should be more demure, she should be more careful, she’s going to hurt herself or someone else, they say, but yani is past the point of craving approval now. or at least, that’s what she tells herself, disregard is a shield she equips, straps it over a soft heart, hardens herself by hoping for little and expecting even less. when you expect the world to let you down there is a freeness in being proven correct when it doesn’t surprise you by being anything but bleak.

iii. high school treats her well. there are only so many other kids in town, so it’s not like there’s enough trouble for cliques. not when they’ve all known each other from birth. there isn’t much reason to come to the little excuse for a city, unless you’re a tourist or you’ve got a burning passion for the fishing industry, and even then there are better choices in destination. she studies well enough, but yani is prone to distraction. her attention wanders and she spends plenty of time staring out of the window, as opposed to anything else. but she’s clever, and when she does apply herself she catches up just fine.

there’s a certain sadness to a decaying rural town, and the older yani gets the heavier it weighs on her, this realization that there are no opportunities here, that the only chance for a viable future any of them have exists in some ephemeral elsewhere always slightly out of reach. it’s the cycle of poverty in action - the jobs are manual labor or hardly impressive, few remain in the town, the aging population is setting the community up to collapse in on itself, but what is anyone able to do about it? so they drink or they fuck or they whine about it, anything to carry on the way they always have. from this town yani learns denial and resignation, in a bizarre blend that ought not be properly possible.

iv.

whatever chance she had of success in school goes down the drain with truancy and delinquency, with smokes stolen from the corner store and beer she convinces neighborhood oppas to buy for her with their ids. she gets what she wants and she doesn’t look back, morality a luxury she can’t afford and frankly doesn’t try too hard to squeeze in anyway. she loves boys that don’t love her back and she chases a high that never quite seems to satisfy. climbs a little bit higher, goes a little bit further, to fill herself with the seratonin and the adrenaline that seem to evade her. 

when she finds out, in the dead of night, half drunk with her best friend, who has never seen her the way she’s wanted to be seen, that his older brother - her boyfriend, her second choice, because he sees her the way her best friend refuses to look - is dead, in a car crash, her word falls apart. it crumbles. 

v.

yani deals with her tragedies and her uncertainties in the way she has been taught. she denies it even unto herself, buries herself into distractions. it gets harder, immeasurably, when her two best friends leave for the military one after the other. she submits an application, a portfolio. it’s a long shot, but she makes it. she leaves, on a plane, in a search for more ways to bury her heart. 

it’s so easy to find them in a city like paris. in drink and drugs and then maybe even in boys and girls. she finds her redemption in sex and adrenaline and in petty, stupid actions. she is a terror on two slender legs, she is weaponized femininity and a cutting tongue, she is every bit of sharp wit and killer instinct wrapped in a devastatingly pretty package. the last distraction, the most enjoyable and the most wholesome, comes in the form of an old film camera. she buys it with money she’s picked out of the pockets of men who lean to close to her in clubs, men too old to promise her the things they do, who line her pockets and give her gifts in the hope that she’ll be foolish enough now to offer her youth to those leeches, those vampiric men that wait so eagerly and desperately to drain her dry.  it’s another way to put a distance between herself and the world; observer and artist, not integral, not intertwined. she can expose the truth of the world without involving her own truth in it, betrays herself in a thousand tiny ways. 

vi.

it is so terribly easy to get what you want in a city like this. there is always someone willing to give it to you, for a price of course. yani learns to play this game, to divorce herself from her own reality, to compartmentalize. she feels like a hundred different girls. she feels like a line of glasses on a counter, each varying levels of empty. she feels like she could shatter in a moment, or sing beneath a touch, or neither, or both. 

she feels like they can sense it on her, the sins that paint her skin. she rots herself with alcohol, nicotine, prescription pills designed for someone decidedly not her. she wears herself down with long nights, early mornings, insomnia that clings to her, a weight that settles heavy, drags her down. her moods are mercurial, she tears through the people around her like a storm, intent on destruction, pausing for the briefest moments of calm before the winds pick up once more. 

she falls apart this way, bits and pieces at first, and then all at once, like a spaceship reentering orbit too quickly, she is engulfed. 

vii. 

in the end she stays there, in france, for a little longer. longer than she’d intended. money starts to run out, her feeble language skills are put to the test. it’s sheer luck that lands her a job at an art gallery, luck on top of luck that gets her through an accelerated program. in the end, she spends two and a half years in france, eventually returning to her dismal little rural town. returns with a degree from france that means very little besides “you didn’t make it into a korean school” and “you dedicated your life to creative pursuits that will provide you with nothing.”

she returns with her camera, with a few years of gallery experience, with a couple thousand dollars saved and very little in the way of confidence or strength. she has dreams she barely dares to dream, thoughts she can hardly expose herself too. with a portfolio and no direction, no idea what to do with herself, for herself. 

viii. 

by the time she gets back, one of her friends is out of the military at last, the other long gone for seoul. she spends two months in the little town before she can’t handle it anymore. has photographed every inch of the decaying rural landscape, the town left forgotten by progress, by the government, by the future. her collection on the state of the town, deemed a cutting photojournalistic insight to rural korean poverty, becomes a minor sensation and is picked up by a gallery in seoul. it’s the boost she needs to relocate, flees the town that made her, that funded her flight, to head for the city, to lose herself again. 

seoul is much the same as any other city. she wanted it to have answers that it doesn’t. she hates her apartment, a half basement decked out in mold and wrinkled vinyl flooring over the thick pipes of the ondol. she drags herself through the day to day, gets a job and does what she can to keep herself afloat. takes pictures, sells them, does what she can. it’s unfulfilling. she’s frustrated. her friends feel distant and she feels thoroughly disconnected from the world around her, floating as if on the currents of the ocean. 

viv. 

the treehouse offers a chance at a community, the selfsame thing she has done so much to avoid, so earnestly  distanced herself from - lest anyone figure out the great pretending of her life. that she’s not half the person, half the artist she wants to be. she lives a life steeped in imposter’s syndrome and unspoken words, preserving her thoughts in notebooks and photographs, fragments of time and feeling captured without explanation, left for the viewer to infer.

#cu bio #cu kang seulgi #cu isfp

[phoenix-angel-suyari]

Why I think Jon Snow will ultimately win the Game of Thrones.

Under a cut for those of you who are still catching up, those of you who want to binge the whole damn thing once it’s over, and those for whom GoT holds absolutely no allure and would like to stop seeing it all over the place.

Putting aside birthrights and blood claims, there is one really big reason why I feel Jon will win: He doesn’t want it. Jon is perhaps one of the only characters in the entire story who literally doesn’t want any real power. He never has. All Jon has ever wanted was to be accepted and acknowledged. To get out from under the stigma of being a bastard and get to live as a member of his own damn family. Jon’s motivations have always revolved around a strict moral compass and a desire to be a part of group of people who will reward him with affection.

As much as he got to grow up as a Lord’s son, he was still regarded as unimportant and disposable, even in his father’s house. Ned made sure that Jon had an education. Jon was taught to fight and to read and how to be a just and honorable person. But, being honorable when one ultimately has no socially innate honor is perhaps one of the most difficult ways to exist. Especially because as he was branded a bastard, Jon was raised with the belief that he was not worthy of respect or consideration; no matter what he did or how high he rose, he would always be the Bastard of Winterfell. Which ultimately negated any accomplishments or achievements he may win for himself. And he has always been fully conscious of this fact.

Jon joins the Nightwatch because he feels it is the only place in all the world where he might be able to be someone, to make a difference, and to be accepted for who he is and what he can do. Jon wants a family. Jon wants to belong and be a part of society in a meaningful way. All he has ever wanted is acceptance and acknowledgement, and he hoped to find that among a sworn brotherhood. Unfortunately for him, the Night’s Watch was like pretty much any other dream in GoT - a fairytale, a fantasy, something which seems ideal but is anything but. Jon struggles to be accepted among his new sworn brothers because, ironically, despite being a Bastard, he is Ned Stark’s son. He is his father’s shame and his very existence seems to be just cause for wild speculation, ridicule, bullying, and general disgruntlement. Most members of the Night’s Watch are low born and were conscripted against their will in order to avoid punishment for some seriously brutal crimes. Jon’s morality and sense of duty, loyalty and honor are a source of entertainment and cause him to stick out. The fact that he was clearly well educated by his Lord father makes many jealous and untrusting of him. Despite this, Jon manages to rise among them seriously quickly. Even though he is being put in worse and worse situations, Jon manages to continue to not only survive them, but accomplish heretofore inaccessible goals. Jon is a freaking golden child, who is unbelievably good at everything, even when he himself is personally floundering, flailing, and otherwise irreconcilably failing.

Jon would have been perfectly happy to have stayed in Winterfell if things would have been better for him there. He would have been content to be at his brothers’ side, supporting them in their legitimacy. If Catelyn would have kept her promise to the Seven, even if she did it later in Jon’s life, or only so far as to let him be acknowledged as Ned’s son - just as worthy of respect and due consideration for the good his father instilled in him - everything would have been so much different. If Jon could have had his family amongst his own blood, then he would have devoted his entire life to them, and perhaps, more of them would be alive now. Jon is incredibly loyal, especially to those he loves and respects. He would have gladly given his life to protect any member of his family. Hell, he probably would have even died in Catelyn’s place willingly, if for the fact that she was his siblings’ mother and the loss of her would have hurt them. Jon would have supported Robb when the North succeeded from the Westerosi crown. He would have been at his side protecting and advising him. Robb would have entrusted a lot of tasks with Jon because he would have never had cause to doubt Jon. And Jon would have supported him in any and all ways he could.

Unfortunately for everyone, that never came to pass. However, just because Jon doesn’t want power, does not mean power has not been given to him again and again. Jon seems to be constantly falling into positions of power, no matter how much he doesn’t want to be in power. Power is continually granted to him because he is a good commander. Jon wants what’s best for everyone - whether or not everyone or anyone agrees with him - and will do anything he can to ensure the survival of all. He will make decisions that no one agrees with. He will put himself in serious peril. Jon would die just as easily for a wildling as for a Westerosi and that makes him unusual, but that also makes him worthy of respect. Because Jon values life, no matter where it comes from.

Jon becomes the 198th Lord Commander - a position he didn’t want - based on his own merit. Because a significant portion of his sworn brothers respect and admire him. Jon is later killed in cold blood because a rival faction of sworn brothers do not agree with his choices. Jon’s body is literally fought over. His closest friends and confidants barricading themselves in with his corpse in order to protect any further desecration of his person. An entire army of wildlings comes to the defense of his dead body. They overtake Castle Black just so Jon’s own can give him a proper funeral. Jon is resurrected because people believe in him so much, they refuse to just allow his death to happen. They refuse to live in a world where Jon Snow does not exist.

Even after everything that has happened to him, after not even being given time to come to terms with his own murder and subsequent restoration, and despite how utterly exhausted of the way his entire life has been one long uphill battle in the snow, when Sansa comes to him for refuge and Ramsay threatens his family, Jon pulls himself up by the bootstraps and goes to subjugate himself to the Northern Lords for assistance in retaking his family’s home for his SIBLINGS. Not for himself. He is not expecting to be rewarded for his actions in any way. All he wants to do is rescue his brother, avenge his sister, and secure their home so they will be safe.

When his youngest brother is killed right in front of him, Jon full on fucking snaps. Ramsay signed his own freaking death warrant with a single arrow. Jon would have probably happily beaten Ramsay to death with his own bare hands if he hadn’t been pulled out of the blood rage. Because Ramsay stole the only thing that’s ever mattered to Jon; his family.

Jon succeeds in his bid for Winterfell - with all due assistance  - and is crowned King in the North. He did not go into the Battle for Winterfell with the intent of becoming Lord of Winterfell. He’d already turned down the seat when it was offered to him by Stannis Baratheon. He accepts, because he understands what is coming for his people. He knows he is the only one who will give the threat the consideration it deserves, and the crown is a means to an end. Jon becomes King in the North because it’s the only thing he can do to save countless lives. He goes to Dragonstone in person to treat with Daenerys because he wants to afford her the proper respect - “Daenerys is a Queen. Only a King can convince her to help us. It has to be me.” - and because they desperately need weapons, men, and her dragons. He resists bending the knee to Daenerys because he does not agree with her tactics. Only after she proves that she is willing to sacrifice for the good of all people, does Jon agree to bend the knee. And he does it with the knowledge that it is the only way to ensure the survival of everyone in his care.

Jon is used to making difficult decisions. He’s used to people directly challenging those decisions. He is used to having to fight for everything he has, just to keep his head above water. Jon has the makings of a great king because he is a good man. And he will win the Game of Thrones because, ultimately, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even consider himself a player.

It would be right in with GoT canon for Jon to be stuck with an even more powerful position - he neither asked for nor wanted. Both a blessing and a curse. Especially if, by the end of it all, he’s left with a victorious, but otherwise ailing Kingdom, heavy with the weight of loss and grief. A good deal of it, likely being his own.

#GoT #Jon Snow #Predictions