#MY LOVE IS NAUGHT BUT COMPOST

[malka-lisitsa]

I AM BULLIED RELENTLESSLY. ELENA THINKS SHE HAS IT BAD?

[hollyhomburg]

Of Fire And Love (Pt.5)

(Dragon! Yoongi x Human! Reader) (????? Jungkook, Dragon! Hoseok) (Sorcerer! Seokjin x Human! Taehyung) (Fairy! Jimin x Dragon! Namjoon)

Summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Pairings: Dragon! Yoongi x Human! Reader, ????? Jungkook, Dragon! Hoseok, Sorcerer! Seokjin x Human! Taehyung,

W/c: 18.6k

Warnings/Tags: visceral violent death scenes, gore, blood, near character death, morbid, violence, referenced parental death, familial fluff, touch starved characters, brief smut, discussions of Aging/mortality, mentions of War, Namgi have a Lil fight in this, 

Song rec: Agust D- Burn it, 

A/N: well here it is! the big reveal! I will be posting a short thing probably explaining the end of this and the backstory of the Seokjins family a little more as well as a collection of all of the bits that foreshadowed the ending of this chapter! This is the second to last part! and the next part will probably be just as long as this and won’t be posted for a little while. 

Series Masterlist

- Yoongi is flying back when it happens and almost falters. Dipping in the air as the wind goes out from underneath his wings and a stabbing pain lights just underneath his heart. After being with his mate for so long it almost feels like he’s the one who was hurt not you. 

- It only knocks him out of the sky for a second before he’s righting himself in the air. And the panic takes hold- suddenly sure that something is wrong- terribly earth tilting wrong. He summons all the strength he has in him and hurls himself through the sky as quick as he can. Yoongi has never flown faster in his life. 

- Jungkook is only a kid, he can’t keep you alive. You’d only just begun to teach him how to heal. Even as Hoseok shifts back to human form- the attacker who stabbed you quickly dispatched by his teeth. Somehow Jungkook’s red scarf ends up pressed to your wound, pressing down on it with all of his weight.  

- “That’s good Koo- just like that.” you gently instruct. You’re barely alive by the time that Yoongi gets back, your breathing heavy and labored. Though Jungkook has bound around the wound, you’re half-conscious. Yoongi swoops in, shifting just in time to hurl himself through the front door cracking part of the frame with his shoulders. 

- He’s steely, even as his hands shake when he touches your pale face. You pass out with Yoongi’s name on your tongue- staying awake just long enough to see that he’s here, that your children have him to protect them, before a tidal wave of pain pulls you under. Yoongi takes one look around at the house, the dead men- feeling horror well up in him. Their place of safety, of softness and love, violated like this. 

-  He can hear and smell the ones that remain in the woods, the sluggish pull of their heartbeats as they die. And he knows the hairs on the backs of their necks are standing up as his anger grows. His fingers are black-tipped claws by his side- unable to resist the semi-shift- aching to sink into the rage that demands the world to sate it. Yoongi cannot and will not let this go unpunished. 

- But you’re still there dying on the floor, and the choice is easy. (When it comes down to it- Yoongi will always choose you) For you Yoongi will easily surrender this revenge. Somewhere in the house Yoongi smells fire. But he doesn’t care burn it all to the ground. Every happy memory with it too- everything. If it all ends like this- Yoongi can’t bear it. 

- But he needs too- for the two small faces that he loves more than anything in the world- looking at him like he holds all the answers. Hoseok’s face is wet with tears and blood when he tilts his face up, blinking them away furiously. His voice shakes when he instructs them. “Jungkook I’m going to shift and then you and Hobi are going to put her on my back and fly with me” he touches Jungkook’s arm and Jungkook turns his tear-filled eyes to his father 

- “I need you to be strong fledgling, I need you to hold her there and make sure she doesn’t fall off when we fly because tying her in will take too much time.” Yoongi touches Hoseok’s face- wiping away the blood on his mouth with a thumb. “Hoseok- this will be a long flight so keep up just above me so I can break the wind for you.”

- “If you can’t I’m going to-“ Hoseok squares his little shoulders, he’s only 15- and yet he meets Yoongi’s gaze, his resolve steely as he pushes himself up, nodding.  “if I lose you don’t worry I’ll catch up. I can follow your scent. If I fall back keep going.” 

- Yoongi had never imagined- that the trauma he’d been through as a child could have affected him in this way but Hoseok is steady as a rock in a stream. Pride wells up in him- smothered by the panic. 

- They fly through the rain and all through the night, Jungkook clenches Yoongi’s back with his thighs and keeps you on his back, putting as much pressure on your wound as he can with his arms around your waist. 

-  Hoseok is so exhausted and barely managing to stay airborne in his little red dragon form, dipping with every strong gust of wind. His ears are better at hearing now than when he’s in human form. And He listens for every ragged breath- every uneven thudding heartbeat of yours that slows with the passing hours. like a timer counting down the moments until everything will have been for naught. Hoseok pushes himself harder, his aching wings protesting with each flap. 

- Jungkook’s thighs and front are stained with your blood, and it makes Yoongi’s scaly back slippery and hard to grip with his trembling thighs, especially when the rain starts up. The terror keeps Jungkook awake and sheer will power keeps his muscles from giving out.

- Back at your manor house a hush settles over the woods, the men deep in the belly of your castle. As they raid Yoongi’s hoard- the minor blaze in the house put out. They’re merry at the prospect of so much gold but yet subdued at the men they lost today. their lives a small price to pay for the fortune that would make them as good as princes in their country.

- How selfish dragon kind where for hogging all of this wealth- not only did they have control of all of the fertile land in the world- but they also had 90% of the world’s gold. The least they can do is share. They raid Yoongi’s wine stores too. filling golden chalices with the dark red liquid.

- A hush settles over the woods as the mist starts to gather- but the calm won’t be there- not for long. They’re so drunk- they don’t realize the way that it sinks in through the windows with gentle clawed fingers, creeping in through the hallways and down to the belly of the manor house. a mist thicker than any you could cut. They only have a few moments- their drunken and gold-hungry gaze focusing on the house- full of mist- before they hear it- a brief humming of fairy wings.

- Jimin hits them with a savage stab- the flowers growing through one of their chests with a savage crack- roots splitting his sternum with a burst of red flowers. The roots sprouting around the edge of Jimin’s knife. Gone are the usual delicate features from the fairy, his face almost more horrifying than the sight of their dead comrade falling to the floor. The chrysanthemums blooming in his eyes, mushrooms budding along his spine, decomposing before their very eyes.

- What once was Jimin's cheekbones is now webbed black- his muscles sunken in and woven like a spider, his fangs hooked and buglike. His eyes glowing a horrifying red. His hands have more fingers than seem possible- more like a spider than a human. He dispatches the rest of them easily, leaving only one, pressing him close up against a wall. The man pisses himself, feeling the vines constrict around his whole body- but not killing him- not yet. 

- Jimin voice is a low croon as he drags his knife down his cheek, “now- would you like to tell me what you’ve done with my family? Or should I let my flowers do their job?” a massive head sinks out of the fog, claws clicking on the marble floors, his fangs long- blue fire leering deep in Namjoon’s mouth as he opens his mouth- the man lets out a whimper.

- He falls away like petals in the wind when Jimin wills it. Wiping his knife of the blood on his thigh and sheathing it in a simple movement. He’s thinking about seeing Seokjin again after all these years. If you’d really been as injured as they said you where- if they’d really seen Yoongi fly away with you, Jungkook and Hobi in toe- then Seokjin’s is the only place you could be heading too. All at once- the spider face gone with Jimin’s rage. He hadn’t thought- only smelled your blood in the woods and acted. 

- Namjoon nudges the edge of one of the men the flowers wilting as he dies. There isn’t a hit of remorse in his face. They’d found the puddle of your blood in the entryway after all. “You know this is sort of like Instant compost.” 

- Jimin snorts shoving at his head lovingly.  “You’re terrible” but he keeps his fingers tangled in his dragon's hair. “Let's get out of here” but before he leaves. He nudges one of them again, and a scroll falls out of their pocket, Namjoon stoops to pick it up. Eyes widening when he reads the first line. 

- “We need to call the council- this can’t wait.” 

- It’s early morning the next day when Yoongi finally touches down at the one person who could save you from the brink of death- Seokjin.

- No one is quite sure how old Yoongi is. But the last sorcerer left in the world is definitely older. The two are old friends even if it’s been more than a decade since they saw each other. But then again, Seokjin doesn’t really process time the way a normal person does- at least not when it comes to friendship.

- So it doesn’t feel like a reunion after a long time when Yoongi crashes down in the lawn in front of Seokjin’s castle. It feels more like a friend that’s popped in for tea at an unbecoming hour. But Yoongi’s never been good with manners and at the age he is, Seokjin can’t really expect him to change. 

-  It’s more clumsily then he’s ever seen him land. He even rips up the sod too- a great big skid mark all across Seokjin’s grass. Oh well, at least he hadn’t trashed the garden that Seokjin had looked after for the better part of the last millennia. He only slightly disturbs his morning coffee on his patio. Seokjin barely lifts an eyebrow at the sudden appearance of his friend. 

- After all- Seokjin had felt him coming. Seokjin knows (almost) everything.

- The thing that does surprise him however, is the shouting- Jungkook slides off his back with you barely supported in his arms. That certainly surprises him a great deal. The way the youth sobs and looks at Yoongi- chanting “dad- dad please-“ Yoongi shifts to carry you. Scooping you up from the boy who looks half way to passing out. A smaller red dragon with fluffy feathers lands sloppily, crabbing to the left at the last moment and crashing into a cypress tree and nearly snapping it in half.

- He gives a muted grumble to let everyone know he’s fine- just tired, even as he drags himself over to the group his tail dragging. Yoongi and Jungkook carry you in a panicked dash.  Hoseok following Too tired to shift back to human but running next to them. That has Seokjin straightening up, getting out of his chair, his teacup clattering the floor in a crash, running over to meet them. Seokjin helps Yoongi with your weight- “Please save her Jin- I can’t live without her.” 

- Seokjin’s hands touch your abdomen with purpose, coming away red, your blood cold. “Yoongi she’s bare-“ 

- “Jin” Yoongi’s voice breaks, his lower lip quivering, every muscle in his body holding you gently, as close as he can without hurting you. Anything to keep you close for a few more moments. Jin doesn’t pause, doesn’t ask. He just rushes the four of you inside the small castle to his study. 

- The glass double doors blow open from an unseen force before they enter- tables and chairs and books flying this way and that clearing their path.  The crowded table clears with a flick of his wrist too. A hidden force sending everything flying back onto its proper place on the shelf. If he weren’t so terrified Jungkook would find it in himself to be awed- but as it is; all he can feel is scared. 

- Yoongi lays you as gently as he can on the table- your head lolling. Seokjin starts spitting words in a frantic language, his hands glowing a soft violet color as Yoongi tears at your dress- opening it up around the wound.

- This is different than Jimin's plant magic, the wordless sort of magic that has the world leaning in- no- Seokjin’s magic makes the world stop in place and turn around him. Every inch of intent spoken by his mouth an order that reality will bow too. It’s jaw-dropping to see, 

- Jungkook stands by the door until Hobi pulls him out of it, teeth ripping into the back of his shirt as he moves Jungkook like a mother cat would a kitten. He’s a good older brother- and he doesn’t think that you’d want either of them to see this. Especially when Seokjin starts to undress you- with only a medical like air in mind his movements quick and efficient meant to expose more of the wound.

- It takes Jin almost another full day to heal you to the best of his abilities and even then the rest is up to you. Seokjin works through the night and through all of it, Yoongi sits by your bedside, his forehead pressed to yours through the entire healing process. Offering his strength when Seokjin needs it. A hand on his shoulders sometimes, not to offer to comfort but to take Yoongi’s energy- his lifeblood- because alone Seokjin doesn’t have enough power for this.

- Seokjin’s drains the energy out of him to the point where he fears taking anymore. Yoongi slumped next to you, keeping himself in the chair by sheer force of will, whispering into your ear your cheeks start to pink up again slowly, your breath coming infrequently- but in time with the pulse of Seokjin’s magic.

- “Don’t you dare go on me yet Y/n, I haven’t had nearly enough time with you, not by a long shot” he holds your hand- he only ever wanted to do that- to hold your hands for the rest of time. However much time he had with you- he had always thought that would be enough- but now he realizes it isn’t. He’d never get enough time with you, not if you were by his side for 100 or 500 years.

- You never get enough time with the ones you love. Whether you’re immortal or mortal, no stretch of time is adequate. Even if you’re both there to witness the death of the cosmos and all else that lingers. Yoongi wants more- he needs more time with you.

- Both of your sons sit outside the room, Jungkook listing into Hobi once he gets too tired to stay awake. “I’ll wake you if there’s any news Kookie”  And even though Hobi’s tired from flying he just can’t close his eyes until he knows if he’s lost his mom again.

- Jungkook dozes, and Hoseok picks a spot on the tapestry that hangs on the opposite wall and doesn’t look away. Jungkook lying across his lap- one of Hoseok’s hands embedded deep in his chocolate locks. Holding onto him like he’s worried Jungkook is going to slip away too.

- “I killed someone Hobi- I- I killed someone,” he says, late into the afternoon when the orange light seeps through the window at the end of the hall. Hoseok blinks as he looks down at Jungkook- he hadn’t realized the younger had woken. A Geometric shape of orange light falls across Jungkook’s Face. His cheekbones suddenly present- all that made him baby faced fallen away in a single day, the bags under his eyes hallow bruises.  

- The way Jungkook says it- he says it like it means something. Like it Wasn’t just an act of desperation and an act of trying to live. To keep going.  Hoseok has to fight to keep his voice steady. “Do you hate me?” his hand fists in the front of Jungkook’s shirt over his heart. Covering a tiny fleck of blood with his closed fist. “I killed people too Jungkook, do you hate me?” 

-  Hoseok realizes with a start- that he’s killed more people than Jungkook- and can’t navigate his way back through the terror of the last few hours to count how many men had fallen under his tooth and claw. Hoseok tells himself that they had too- and believes it. After all- if they hadn’t it would mean the three of you lying dead on the floor of your entryway.

- Hoseok doesn’t want to think about what Yoongi would have done if he’d come home to that. He doesn’t think that his father’s rage would have been sated by the whole world on fire. He lets himself imagine it for a moment. The human world- swallowed in flames, everything burning. Jungkook reaches up and rubs away at the smoke curling over Hoseok’s chin, a juvenile imitation of rage- of the fire that Hoseok isn’t capable of yet. “Do you hate me Jungkook?” 

- Jungkook looks stricken with the very idea of it, he laces his hand with Hoseok’s over his heart and curls up around him so that Jungkook can press his face into Hoseok’s side. Hiding his face and his tears as he fights to stay calm- not to break all over his soulmates lap- even if he’s been breaking since he put his sword through that man in your home hours ago. 

- “I could never hate you Hobi.”

- Hoseok wishes he could feel more like Jungkook but he doesn’t. Sure he’s afraid, but the terror hovers below a steely calm that he can’t think through. He’s lost his mom before, and he can’t lose you too, doesn’t want to lose his mom again. But he won’t fall apart until he knows. Because If he fell apart again- he’s not sure that even Jungkook could bring him back. 

- It takes until the next evening for the trauma-induced calm to end. Jungkook next to him asleep again, but Hoseok hasn’t managed to close his eyes. And when he does for only a few minutes, images of you lie behind his eyelids.

-  The countless times you’d brushed through his feathers or ruffled his hair, how you’d excitedly congratulated him and Jungkook with every little bit of things they’d brought home. The cross look on your face, hands on your hips, whenever they came home more bruised and battered than usual. All of that gone in a day-

-  A memory from when he would wake as a child in your mountain home is what makes Hoseok fall apart. the first time he’d ever woken up feeling safe after his parents died. Jungkook asleep beside him, to the sound of your soft humming as you hovered over the stove, Yoongi’s dark wing shielding Jungkook and Hoseok from the light of morning. 

- But when Hobi had looked, he’d found Yoongi’s neck stretched out so that he could lay it down next to you while you worked. And whenever you’d finish with a task you’d reach over to scratch up and down his cheek. And Hoseok could feel the pleasant shiver and happiness all around him. 

- He remembers making a noise, and you turn to him. your hair falling all around your face free from the braid you usually bound it in when you slept.  Hushing him softly, ‘you can go back to sleep okay? Breakfast will be done in a moment little-honey’

- It’s when the memories hit him that He starts to cry, to hyperventilate. He keeps clutching Jungkook’s hand the whole time. When Jungkook wakes they hold onto each other. The younger pulling him in and reversing their positions. Strengthening the moment Hoseok needs him. And Hoseok’s world narrows down to just Jungkook. 

-  Finally, just after sunrise, Seokjin pokes his head out of the study and Hobi straightens up. He’s already magiced the table into a bed- and he’s left Yoongi curled up around you sleeping soundly- a quick calming spell to let his friend recuperate after the last day- Seokjin is sure he would have fallen asleep if he hadn’t put that spell on him. They’ll move you to an actual bed when yoongi wakes. 

- At the sound of the door opening Jungkook jerks barely catching himself before he crashes into the floor, blinks owlishly at the sudden movement. Seokjin’s greeting dying in his throat. Truthfully, Seokjin doesn’t remember being that young and it’s kind of strange. To be confronted with such youth after almost a full year on his own with no-one to talk too.

- They spill over themselves in an effort to get in the room “is she okay- is mom gonna live is she gonna-“ suddenly Seokjin finds himself inundated with two very concerned teenagers, clutching at the edge of his dark purple dressing-gown- he hadn’t even bothered to change from his pajamas.  “I’ve healed her wounds- but the rest is up to her” both of them sigh and then- none to surprisingly, burst into tears and cling to Seokjin who awkwardly pats them on the back.

- Jesus Christ- they haven’t even told him their names yet and already they’re tripping over themselves to thank him. “Can we see her and dad?” Seokjin sighs heavily, “I think it’s probably better to give them some space, your father and mother need to rest- why don’t you come with me so we can fix some food for you? And also do some introducing- your parents really didn’t teach you any manners did they? Luckily I’m good at that.” Because if there’s one thing that's better than a spell at fixing sorrow, then its food. 

- Seokjin starts jauntily down the hallway as Hoseok and Jungkook shoot each other a confused glance, suddenly both dubious and a little terrified by the sorcerer “Well come on- out with it what are your names little menaces?”

- When you wake, almost a full week after the attack, Yoongi is sat by your bedside holding your hand looking haggard and unkempt. He’s hardly moved all this time. Only changed and washed up because Seokjin had bothered him too- and left Hobi and Jungkook to watch over you for a moment, or to tuck the boys in and made sure they’ve eaten something. they’ve been so grown up the last few days. after the first day when- 

- a tangled mess of both of them in the bed, both of them woken to yoongi coming into their room, wetness on his cheeks, touching their soft heads as he cried- thanking the gods and all the goodness in the world that they hadn’t been hurt too. Hoseok blinking awake, whispering “dad?” into the open air which had made Yoongi break- his chest heaving. 

- And Hoseok- little Hoseok- knowing to reach up to wrap his arms around his father because that’s what he needed. To scent-mark his children and make sure they knew he was there- that he wouldn't be leaving. Jungkook has always been a deep sleeper hadn’t even woken. 

- but Hoseok had pushed at yoongi after a moment. “go- I know you want to sit next to mom. it’s okay, I’ll make sure Jungkook and I eat after he wakes up- you don't have to worry about us I'll- I’ll make sure we’re doing what she’d want us to be doing.”

- like washing their clothes and making sure they bathed and detangled their hair and made their beds in the morning. But also- that they were looking after each other too. making sure neither of them felt alone or uncared for- for too long. in all your years parenting- you’ve always emphasized being there for each other- and Hoseok and Jungkook won’t let you down now. they’re amazing in Yoongi’s eyes. Already grown up enough to understand that yoongi is as in need of as much comfort as they are. 

- And In all your time raising Jungkook and Hoseok together you have never seen Yoongi cry. But when you open your eyes and peer up at him Yoongi bursts into tears. looking tired but alive with a lingering ache in your stomach that seems to hold you down to the plush bed with a vengeance. His long fingers touching your cheeks, pulling himself closer to you.

- Yoongi sobs out your name, pressing his forehead against yours when you whisper out his name, your hands weekly coming up to grab onto him- you’re so tired- so weak and uncoordinated but still- you can’t bear to have him even an inch from you. “I was so scared my love, but now you’re safe and healing. Thank the gods you’re alive.”

- “I’m not a god but thanks for the high praise,” says a stranger from the door, his black hair shot through with silver streaks. His endlessly mirthful purple eyes haunting in the half-light of the bedroom. The stranger wipes his hands off with a cloth. But the glowing stone- set into the space just above his collar bones, glowing a light purple under a thin layer of skin, tell you enough about who this must be. 

- He does smile kindly, and you can already see his appraising eyes measuring your condition. “I’m Seokjin- I’m the person who saved your life” you give a weak smile in return. “Yoongi’s told me all about you and though I’d prefer it if we hadn’t met this way I’m eternally thankful. Thank you Seokjin, for allowing me to stay with my family.” 

- You turn to Yoongi, even now he can see how exhausted you are, “how are you feeling- do you want some water- some food my darling?” You’re about to say no, that you only want to go back to sleep when you jolt up. Your parental instincts cut through your haze and a bone-chilling panic suddenly seizing you. 

- Yoongi’s hands on both your shoulders to keep you in the bed- “oh my god the kids- are they alright are they-“ Jungkook and Hoseok peer out from behind Seokjin’s back, looking scared and restraining themselves from coming too close. But very much alive and uninjured. They hover until Yoongi gestures that it’s okay for them to come closer- that they won’t hurt you. 

- Both Hoseok and Jungkook immediately start crying and hurl themselves onto your bed. Hobi gets so distressed that he actually shifts and starts scent marking you like a cat. One of his legs wiping out to push Seokjin away unintentionally. He is a little big now- it feels more like an extraordinarily large puppy has taken up half the space in your bed. 

-  “Hey! Rude!” Seokjin shouts but lets himself be moved. The big bed creaks and sags as Hoseok sets himself firmly over the top portion of it. His warm underbelly curled around your head, his feathers tickling your face as he nuzzles in close, gently and slowly. Jungkook settles on your side, his hands locked in a death grip around your shoulders you weekly bring up a hand to card it through his hair. 

- “Boys! Be careful of her side! She’s still healing.” But you give him a look over Jungkook’s shoulder, a little teary-eyed yourself but smiling- the smile that Yoongi would die for would tear apart the world for. 

- “Yoongi told me how brave the two of you were flying all this way to help me Hobi, and keeping me on his back Kookie. I’m so proud of both of you.”  Jungkook lets himself pull back a little “Really?” 

- “Yes! you were so so brave!” you even scratch a little under Hobi’s chin, and he lets out a little content dragon noise and snuggles closer. Jungkook lets out his first even breath in days. Hoseok too- both of them crying those easy tears of relief in your arms. “You’re so brave boys, It’s okay- I’m okay now- you don’t have to be scared anymore.” 

- As he listens to you reassure your children and for the first time, Yoongi notices the smile lines by your mouth, a single grey hair starting to glitter along your hairline. The signs of aging that he never noticed before, and goes quiet, suddenly still.

- “Thank you” your eyes are tear-filled as you look up at Seokjin, your hands brushing over both your son's heads, so slow and lingering. like you thought you’d never get the chance to do it again- or had, and now were pausing to savor every moment. “Really Seokjin- I can’t thank you enough- I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” 

-Seokjin looks bashful, a stiff blush climbing from the back of his neck. And he’s stuttering when he talks- “it’s really not my doing- not most of it anyway- I mean- healing you was my doing but you never would have survived if it hadn’t been for this.”

- Seokjin fingers the cloth in his hands, darker red now than it was before. The four of you straighten up, suddenly confused. Jungkook lifts his head from your shoulder, looking perplexed, “My scarf? My scarf saved her?” Jungkook asks, 

- “Not the scarf- but the protection charm on it” Seokjin fingers the edge of it- which hasn’t frayed in all this time. How had you never realized it? over 13 years old and still it’s never lost its color. “It’s old magic- the kind of magic I haven’t seen in a long time. It will protect whatever it covers from harm. And in your case it kept your organs from shutting down before you got here. If it hadn’t been for this wrapped around your waist you would have died in minutes not hours.” 

- Seokjin looks at Yoongi, his lower lip quivering suddenly looking betrayed. “You- you should have told me- if you’d seen my sister you should have told me it’s been hundreds of years Yoongi- you know how much I want to see my family so- how could you.” 

- “I didn’t- Seokjin I didn’t see her- the scarf was with Jungkook when I found him.”  Jungkook looks up abruptly from the bed; Hoseok cocks his head in curiosity. “When you found me?” Jungkook looks surprised for a second before he straightens up. “No- I knew that I knew that I wasn’t yours- but- I always thought- the scarf was the first thing you gave me- that’s why it was so special.” 

- Hoseok’s shifts shaking his head his curls bouncing. leaning up against the headboard pulling Jungkook up to sit with him. Until the three of you are sitting up.  “I didn’t know- I always thought-“ Hoseok looks at you, and you shake your head. “Then if you’re not- where are Jungkook’s biological-“

- Yoongi puts his head in his hands, leaning up against the edge of your bed.   gritting his teeth, “Now isn’t the time for that conversation.” Yoongi isn’t ready and won’t ever be ready for Jungkook to hate him. 

- Hoseok has gotten better at smelling emotions through his sensitive nose- and whips his head around at the acrid scent of Yoongi’s displeasure- taking it wrong. “Then when will be the right time?” how Hoseok had managed to inherit your stubbornness but only ever decides to use it when Jungkook is concerned- Yoongi will never know. 

- “Yoongi” Seokjin brings his focus back to him. You straighten up in bed. Sending both of your children a thankful but strained smile. “Boys? Would you mind giving us a minute?” both of them won’t argue with you now. not with how weak you look.

- You tell Seokjin the story- Yoongi filling in the blanks more than you do. He’s being so tender with you- the physical contact filling you with a soft haze along with the sleepiness. His fingers rubbing down your arm slowly and gently. He’s fully sprawled next to you, your head resting on his chest so you can listen to his heartbeat. Dozing a little. “Are you sure Yoongi?” Seokjin asks gripping the scarf like it’s a lifeline.

- Yoongi nods certain, “it must have been some sort of relic- you know how the humans like to hand those down through the generations. Jungkook’s birth parent’s where- these warriors? I can only describe them as a clan of dragon hunters but I never went back after I-“ 

- Yoongi can’t meet Seokjin’s eyes. “I killed them and then Jungkook was just there and couldn’t- I didn’t want to-” you lift a shaky hand up to cup Yoongi’s cheek, and he leans into it. All at once you realize this- you in the bed, and Seokjin accusing Yoongi of something the likes of which you can’t imagine, are too much for him. 

- You jump in where Yoongi fails to articulate the words. “After that we took care of him together, and then Hobi came- and it’s only been us ever since. I’m sorry Seokjin, I don’t know who you’re looking for. But I don’t think it has anything to do with Jungkook” Seokjin’s protests die in his throat, and he nods sadly, setting the scarf gently on the end of your bed. 

- Later- Yoongi will tell you about Seokjin’s family. and how slowly, after a period of time- they’d all begun to disappear off the face of the earth. The only family of sorcerers left or made- even Seokjin didn’t know how they’d come to be. Only that there could only be the seven of them and no more. Not even any more children, As having children was as good as passing your power down onto them- and relinquishing your own immortality.

-  First his parents had gone- than his older siblings, and finally, his younger sister who had simply vanished one-afternoon leaving Seokjin alone- the only sorcerer left in the world. Seokjin had been searching for her ever since.  

- That afternoon- you have more energy with your children around, and even eat something small. Though Seokjin had warned Yoongi that it might take a little while for your body to recuperate- he’s happy to watch you sit up a little more. The warmth back in your cheeks when you play a game of cards with your children sprawled across the bed that night. 

- Both of them give you more details here and there about what had happened after you’d lost consciousness happy to receive more praise from you. Sometimes- Hoseok gets a little overwhelmed and needs to hug you and shifts- but he’s conscious enough to move before that happens this time (after a few poignant comments about the state of the bedframe from Seokjin), putting most of his weight on a plush couch that he and Jungkook had pushed over to the side of the bed. Leaning only his head on the plush blanket. It’s easy for both Yoongi and Jin to excuse themselves and go make dinner. 

- It always surprises Yoongi how much Seokjin loves to cook- for an all-powerful immortal that doesn’t necessarily need to put in effort into doing anything. Yoongi has seen him wave his hands and summon full cooked feasts. And still, the sorcerer does love to cook with his own two hands, finding the process more satisfying that way.

 - His friend looks the same as he had over a dozen years ago- his button-down shirt rolled to the sleeves, barking at Yoongi to pour out scoops of finely milled powders to make some sort of doughy saucy dish that Yoongi’s never heard of before. Seokjin’s mother’s cookbook sits open on the prep table- so it must be something special. 

- “Just say it- I know you have something you want to ask,” Seokjin’s voice is quiet and comforting. In their little cadre- Seokjin has always been the voice of reason. Yoongi’s hands are elbow deep in flour. Slowly kneading the dough. He hesitates for a moment. Knowing once he asks, the future might be out of his hands. 

-  “I can’t lose her Jin, I don’t think Hoseok and I will be able to bear it when they both go- I don’t want to go back to being that lonely person I was- I need them. I need you to find a way to turn her immortal like us, and then I want you to do the same with Jungkook.” 

- Hoseok is like Yoongi- won’t even reach maturity for another 20 years- and by that time, you’ll be older, and Jungkook will be nearing 35. He’s honestly surprised that he and Jungkook are still aging at the same rate as in general. Dragons stop aging once their human bodies start to reach maturity. Yoongi doesn’t want to think about the eventuality- 50 or 60 years down the line when Hoseok will loose his soul-bonded partner. They could lose both of you. If Seokjin and Yoongi don’t act now. 

- But yet- he knows- what he’s asking of Seokjin is no easy feat of magic. If it was- Taehyung would be standing next to them right now. Seokjin’s eyes darken when Yoongi asks, his hands still from where he’s stirring the sauce. flicking off the fire with a twitch of his hand and setting the spoon on a plate. 

- Yoongi knows a cure for mortality has been the only thing on Seokjin’s mind for a long time- before you were born even. It’s been his single goal since he’d met Taehyung. Yoongi wonders where Taehyung is- he should go and say hello to his old friend soon, but he’s not sure where he is in the castle probably hidden away near Seokjin’s bedroom. 

-  Seokjin makes a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers and a singular perfect drop of red floats from the pot and into his mouth. “This needs something” he pauses for a moment before he turns and walks to the pantry. Searching for some oregano- but it might be in the study- after all- it was very useful in most calming spells. “You should go check on her Yoongi, and send your boys here- I want to teach them how to make this.”

-  In the week since you’d been injured. Seokjin has taken it upon himself to teach the boys how to cook for themselves (if they’re going to insist on being the adventurers they are then it’s a skill they’ll need to posses) as well as “manners” which Yoongi had caught them grumbling about more than once.

-  Jin likes his boys a fair bit, Even if they have gotten into his stores of potions twice in the last week (of which one incident had, unfortunately, lead to Hoseok’s hair turning into full-on feathers as dark as Jungkook’s hair. But luckily that had been quickly fixed by a secondary spell. What Yoongi doesn’t have to know- won’t hurt him) “Jin please-”

- “I know how it feels Yoongi- I know- just enjoy the next few days okay? Let me think about it. And ask her if she even wants this its not just you who chooses what happens with your family, Jungkook and Hobi too.” Yoongi sighs, but respects Seokjin’s words.

-  And as much as Yoongi’s fear won’t let him make a coherent decision- he’s right. He should ask you first before he makes any plans about your mortality. Once you’re better- then he’ll ask. Yoongi lifts his hands up from the dough and unsurprisingly it keeps kneading its self pulled this way and that by an unseen force. A little too quickly- like Seokjin’s magic is a little agitated by so many questions. 

- “I never thought you’d have kids. The Yoongi I met all those years ago wouldn’t have wanted to bring a woman into his mess let alone a child” Yoongi has to laugh at it because he’s right. His younger self was a lot more angsty and pessimistic about the likelihood of a family in his future. 

- Yoongi can’t stop the soft smile that lights his face when he thinks of you. “They give me a lot of joy Jin- hope for the future too. Maybe the best way to change the world is to raise your own kids and make sure you do it right. Maybe that’s the way to change the world rather than any more pointless wars.”

- Seokjin knocks his shoulder into Yoongi’s “You’ve grown up a lot since I last saw you Yoongi.” And Yoongi can’t do anything else but smile- because sometimes- growing up is a good thing. 

- You get better slowly, it takes you a few days to get out of bed and see the castle that your children have taken upon themselves to explore. A dark gothic structure with vaulted ceilings; its Library full of jeweled toned spell books in languages that Jungkook doesn’t even recognize- and tries to learn (his curiosity as unsatiable as ever). 

- The books that seem to whisper in Jungkook’s ear. Sentences so quiet like t he’s just a little too far away to properly make out the words. 

- Enchanted brooms sweeping here and there. Making indigent squeaking noises if you walk along their path. Rooms full of drawers- the shelves lining all the way up through the ceiling- each ingredient labeled by its uses, it’s common name, and its magical name. You’re curious too- especially when you find some plants even you use for healing with particular uses. 

- The whole place is furnished like a decade out of the past- tufted velvet sofas and chipped gilded mirrors that have greyed with age- some of which are covered with cloths. You ask Seokjin what they hide when Hoseok tries to pull the covering off of one unseen magical hands stopping him. And the sorcerer just sighs a little clipped, and says cryptically “some things are best left unknown at his age.” 

- Later one evening you’ll go over to it again and ask. And Seokjin will tell you that the mirror Hoseok was trying to peer into shows the viewer their soulmate. And when you pull the casing off of it- you don’t see anything- anyone standing beside you at all. Until Yoongi comes into the room, having just made sure that your boys were getting to bed at a semi-reasonable hour. 

- Moving to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. smiling at you in the mirror and Tugging you to go to bed- and get some rest (he’s been seemingly obsessed with making sure you rest and become 100% better before you even talk about what you’re going to do next). You glance back at Seokjin- about to ask him what that means- to see no one. Until you see his small happy smile- oh, so Yoongi actually is your soulmate. You suppose that’s nice- knowing for sure. 

- And Seokjin will sip his wine from the fireplace and give you both a soft shadowed smile, his hands tapping vacantly- reaching out for someone who he can’t touch, and wanting all the same. when he takes a chance and looks across the room to see Taehyung smiling at him, reflected in that mirror. And gets up to cover it again. 

- Everything in the castle hums some sort of undercurrent. The room Seokjin sets you and Yoongi up in is lavish- the bed impossibly soft and the sheets that feel like running water on your skin. The fabrics that hang on the walls detailing stories that seem to be ever-changing. One morning you wake up to an embroidered phoenix hanging on the wall across from you and the next; some sort of intricate blue flower about to bloom. 

- There are 100 moments that could have prepared you for what happens in the end. Hoseok and Jungkook walking through the library- only to have Jungkook complain that it’s ‘too loud to concentrate” “what are you talking about Koo it’s a library” “yeah but- don’t you hear it?” or the fact that Jungkook keeps begging Seokjin to do spells but somehow they never stick. 

- You’re lounging in the sitting room next to the library, its tall glass ceiling- a small door to the side open to the backyard and garden. You’re shivering a little where you’re propped up against Yoongi. He keeps fussing, tucking the blanket around you tighter. And you’re ready for another nap even though you’ve just woken up. 

- Your children badger Seokjin about every different kind of spell that he can do after they find one that gives someone the ability to control the length of their hair- which is apparently something Hoseok really wants- though you can’t imagine why. 

- They’re just working out the logistics when Jungkook lugs over a spellbook more half his size and slams it down across the desk, making both Seokjin and Hoseok- having been bent over the spellbook- flinch.  “Page 497” Jungkook is almost vibrating with excited energy, as Seokjin waves a hand, the massive book flipping open, “Hyung” he tacks on- with little regard for politeness. But Seokjin supposes its better than he’d been before- when he hadn’t even remembered to refer to Seokjin as his elder.

- Hoseok is a little cross at Jungkook for interrupting for a moment, Before he leans over the spellbook, his smile lighting up his whole face, his voice suddenly loud and mirthful “oh yes- please- Seokjin Hyung-” 

- “What is it?” you call from where you sit, Yoongi putting a finger in his book and setting it aside so that he can watch, a gentle smile playing on his lips. one arm around your waist as you recline against him, leaning forward to slowly run his nose over your shoulder.

- Seokjin rolls his eyes, rising from the table and rolling up his sleeves, looking exasperated but ready for the challenge of doing a spell he’s never attempted. It’s far easier just to teleport that fly honestly. “Of course you’d want to fly- alright- come on then- to the middle of the room with you.” 

- Yoongi starts to protest- that maybe inside isn’t the best place for this, but you put a hand on his arm, soothing him because you want to watch but you don’t want to move. You suppose with a ceiling- Jungkook can’t let his flying get out of hand. It’s probably better to be more contained. Both of you watch as Jungkook practically vibrates with energy. Hoseok is happy glancing at him too- “I can’t wait to fly with you Kookie- this way- we can go everywhere! And I don’t even have to carry you!” 

- Hoseok and Jungkook had been trying to find a way to fly with Jungkook on Hoseok’s back for years. But he’d never been strong enough or large enough to handle Jungkook’s weight for more than a few minutes. He was getting stronger- but your boys are impatient. 

- Seokjin humors both of them, holding both his hands out and when he starts to speak, the purple light flares at his fingertips. The stone at the center of his chest glowing too. You’d asked him about it a few days ago- and he’d said that each sorcerer needed some sort of channel- a magical object to give them the ability to link their soul to the magic humming all around them. And you watch it pulsate now as he speaks the words. Jungkook closes his eyes as the magic washes over him like a heavy blanket, his hair rising on end.

- Jungkook only hovers an inch above the ground before the magic rebound upon him- slipping off of him and sticking to Hoseok- who suddenly finds himself floating 4 feet above the ground. The spell stops and he touches down as Jungkook makes a disappointed grumble, crestfallen, “Why didn’t it work!” 

- Seokjin blinks, looking down at his hands. “that’s strange” he says- before he asks Hoseok to step away- something about the soulbond interfering maybe.  Both you and Yoongi watch on- your books set aside to watch.

- Jungkook is almost vibrating with excitement as Seokjin closes his eyes really concentrating this time, Hoseok waiting and watching behind him. You think something should be happening- until you realize that Yoongi and yourself are hovering a foot off of the couch. 

- Seokjin sets you down easily. All of them laughing at you clinging to Yoongi when you realize you’re airborne frantically asking Seokjin to put you down. Yoongi’s gummy smile on display. Jungkook looks more and more put out by the second. “Let's go outside” Seokjin says, and your children head jauntily out after him, Jungkook lugging the spellbook under one arm, almost slipping in the grass under its weight.

- You and Yoongi are soft- piled up together. Yoongi’s long fingers dancing along the edge of your knuckles, rubbing over the little scars that you have here and there. You both watch as Seokjin tries and tries and tries- but Jungkook never gets more than a few inches off the grass. You can see the impression the magic makes in the grass as it rushes from Seokjin to Jungkook, making it stand up or fall down in place- like it’s some sort of wind. 

- “There’s something I want to ask you- when we’ve got the chance I-“ Yoongi’s sentence is interrupted by Hoseok’s shout of “Uncle Jimin! Uncle Namjoon!” in the yard, Yoongi helps you up and sure enough- Namjoon and Jimin are touching down in the front yard. Hugging each of your sons, Seokjin and Namjoon embracing once Namjoon has a second to shift.

- Jimin is just doting on Jungkook and Hoseok, hugging them- thankful that they’re alright- when he looks up- clothed differently and less flamboyantly than he usually is. His simple flying gear dark and patterned, making him sleek and quicker as a flyer- so much so that you barely see him before he’s colliding with you- “are you okay we found your blood and the men and-“ their words rush out of them before you have a chance to blink- 

- “I’m- I’m okay- a little banged up but- I’m fine Jimin” their face is panicked, Namjoon’s somber as they rush over. “We thought you were dead” he says, you can tell by his dimples- making a brief appearance that he’s happy to find you alive and relatively alright. 

- Even now- Seokjin and Namjoon stand closer- as if by proximity they could make up for the distance of years- its hard to wrack your memory for the reason why but then you remember- they’re soul bonded partners. “Did you-“ Yoongi’s voice trails off.  The feral glint in Jimin’s eye is more lethal than any you’ve ever seen in it- “I did” he says, relish in the words. 

- Yoongi nods, letting out an uneven laugh “good” he pulls you closer by an arm around your waist. Because he hadn’t been able to get revenge and the knowledge that the men that had hurt you hadn’t gotten away- its enough for now. “Oh you mean- the dragon hunters?” Jimin smile is fanged when he looks at you. 

- His hands are viselike on your upper arms as he tugs you close- whispers low in your ear. “No one hurts my family and gets away with It.“ you blush a little, unsure how to respond because that kind of loyalty is rare. and it does warm your heart a little. 

- “There’s more though” Namjoon says, and it's then that you realize that he’s dressed much in the same way Jimin is. The clothes simple tight and black, Namjoon doesn’t look happy when he has to say the words. Age-old tiredness in his face. 

- “That wasn’t any ordinary attack- it was ordered by the human king- to try to take you out before the fighting starts.” Yoongi and you straighten up, in the background, Hoseok and Jungkook stand a little closer, “the human king has declared eminent domain over all dragon lands. We’ll go to war within the month.”

- The argument that happens next isn’t what you expect- not at least- from Jimin and Namjoon. It ends with Yoongi slamming his hands down on a table in Seokjin’s study the sound loud and percussive. “No Namjoon- I won’t fucking fight.” 

- You’re glad that your sons aren’t here- have been told by you to go explore- neither of them had seemed too upset about it- maybe just a little because they wanted to see Jimin and Namjoon- but not enough to question you. They understand how serious it must be for all of the adults to look so somber.

- Smoke curls over Yoongi’s chin. And the room fills with an ice-like chill from Namjoon as his temper flares. “I will not- nor will I ever again- fight another war for that blasted council. I have a family to keep safe now Namjoon- and I can’t believe you’d even ask-“ 

- “That’s exactly why I’m asking you Yoongi. How can you expect them to be safe without you?” he makes a flippant gesture with his hands, and next to you in the doorway where Jimin leans, he winces Yoongi recoiling already taking that wrong. 

- “The last war took 33 years Namjoon, by that time- Y/n will be almost 70 and Jungkook will be aged too- you can’t expect me to waste what little time I might have left on something so-” 

- “Hang on-“ Jimin interrupts; he’s been standing, leaning back against the doorway for the majority of this conversation. “When did you get so obsessed with time?” “Since I almost lost her Jimin, I can’t-”

- “You didn’t!?” Namjoon straightens up, looking at his soul-bonded partner aghast. “You didn’t fucking promise him something that you can’t even fucking do for Taehyung- Seokjin!”

- Seokjin flinches back, from where he sits at the table, trying to stay out of the argument, his face drawn. Hands clasped, leaning his chin on them. He doesn’t respond. “Neither of you get it!” Yoongi yells, hands bursting into flames by his side, hot furious tears budding at the corner of his eyes. “Both of you are immortal you don’t know what it’s like- watching the person you love almost die. I can’t- I won't stand by while I lose” 

- Yoongi breaks off- glancing up at you, already stepping forward to comfort him, he swallows, meeting Namjoon’s furious glare. “I won't waste another day that I have with them- and neither should you- you both should fuck the council and side with us.” 

- “Yoongi” you say. Your voice breaking, running to him- his hands extinguishing the second he even gets close to touching you. Because you hadn’t really realized how much this was affecting him. You hold onto him as strong he holds onto you. Namjoon and Jimin sigh, their fight and the chill in the air dissipating as they accept Yoongi’s choice. Jimin grasping at his hand. Namjoon looks at Yoongi- suddenly looking defeated. Seokjin won't look at him, keeps his eyes on the desk in front of him. “Alright- if you won’t fight I can’t make you, but Seokjin will you?”

- Seokjin shakes his head, his voice so quiet and thick with emotion- with hope. “If both of us are looking- it will be easier- twice as much brain power as one- with Yoongi by my side- we’ll make twice as much progress in a year.” 

- You’ve been silent up until now, rubbing your face slowly into Yoongi’s shirt, Yoongi’s hands fisting in the back of your shawl tight around your shoulders. Since you nearly died- you’ve been colder than usual. There have been a lot of things said in this argument that you don’t understand. And from the somber way Seokjin speaks- you figure you should know.  

- You’ve been letting them argue because as much as you care that your mate stays by your side- this isn’t a choice any of you should make for Yoongi. Even if you’re on his side, and don’t want him to waste another moment. to be parted from you for anyother moment. “What do you guys mean? Progress with what?” 

- Jimin snorts, crossing his arms like it’s the confirmation that he needed. “See- you haven’t even asked her yet.” 

- “Asked me what? I don’t understand,” you say at the same moment Namjoon looks over at the clock, checking the time. “We have to go- the council is having a meeting about this tomorrow night and if they’re going to call the garrison without you- they’ll need time to pick a replacement.”

- None of them have to look far- the only one who could replace Yoongi would be Namjoon himself- his second in command. Yoongi watches with a sick feeling in his stomach- at the possibility of Namjoon going to war without either Seokjin or himself by his side isn’t apealing. But then Yoongi looks at you- and the prospect gets a little easier to bear. Namjoon and Jimin leave, embracing you before they go, and you touch either of their cheeks telling them to be safe. 

- And the three of you linger in study. Listening to Jimin and Namjoon hug Jungkook and Hobi on the patio outside and say goodbye at least for a little bit. Seokjin following them to say a few words to namjoon before he takes off. Because Namjoon and Jimin are sure to be busy for a while at least- this will take all of their attention. Damn Namjoon for his altruism and Jimin for his inability not to follow his mates led and stand by him. Yoongi wishes they would stay. 

- Yoongi comes over to stand by you as you watch them get ready to take off, namjoon already shifted, Hoseok shifted too to jump on his back playfully teasing his uncle, he scrabbles with his claws against Namjoon’s slippery icy scales. and you can hear Jungkook, Jimin, and Seokjin’s giggles from here. 

- Yoongi presses a hot kiss against the nape of your neck, and then your mouth when you turn your face to let him, and you can feel his frustration in it, all of the passion. Jimin and namjoon take off- leaving as quickly as he came.  It’s easy for him to Wisk you away to a quiet part of the castle. Needing some quiet with you- to have you all to himself for just a little while.

- The kisses don’t stop even when he picks you up after you stumble. You barely even notice the rest of the castle passing in a blur as he carries you through it, kicking open the door to your bedroom.

- He lays you back on the bed gently as he can, his hands touching and brushing all over you. His movements almost fever mad with the need to touch “Yoongi” you say, breathless- a half moan as he touches you the way that makes you dizzy and close to falling apart at the seams. But he’s hard there- ready to keep you together but desperate.

- “Let me feel you just- let me taste you” he says, kissing down your collar bones and rucking up your shirt so he can mouth hungrily at the skin of your stomach, every touch of his desperate and Shaking. “Let me just-please- I know you’re tired but I’ll do I’ll the work- I’ll take care of you-”

- You don’t understand why he suddenly needs your skin on his more than he needs air in his lungs. Maybe its because it’s the first time since you’ve been injured- or maybe because he’d been so close to losing you and Jimin and Namjoon had just reminded him of it. Maybe it's a little bit of the guilt he feels for not being able to protect you and take care of you in the first place. 

- And though you have so many questions, when Yoongi looks at you a little too emotional; you forget all your questions and kiss him back, touch him back when he shakes, because he looks so vulnerable right now- more than you’ve ever seen him.

- Your hand comes down to scratch around his horns in the way you know has had him coming at times, and he groans, low and breathless as he tugs down your pants. Shucking them off and hooking your knee over his shoulder fingers reaching down to part your wetness. The press of his long fingers making your back arch. His mouth as equally hot and wet on you as you feel.  

- True to his word Yoongi does all of the work, and it leaves you feeling boneless and sated in the way only your mate can make you feel. It's sweaty and sensual but close more than anything as he slides into you and keeps you near, chest pressed to yours. his face buried in your shoulder, almost crying with how good it feels to be so connected to you. The kisses lingering and hot and thankful because you’re here- you’re here.

- “Yoongi?” you ask, alarmed when you realize he’s actually crying. Seated inside of you after he’s cum, hiding his face in your shoulder. “Baby what’s wrong?” he can barely speak, his voice raw when he looks up, lips pursed to keep his sobs in.

- “I can’t lose you- I can’t Y/n- I just can’t and that day- when I thought I had lost you” Yoongi is lost for words. “I just- I can’t keep going if you die, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

- “Not ‘if ‘though” you say, being honest with him, crying as you shake your head, “when right? Because I’m not immortal like you” 

- Yoongi shakes his head, suddenly sitting up, “no- I mean if- if you die.” 

- With little more than that Yoongi launches into his explanation, the story of Seokjin and Taehyung, and what that means for both of you. Eventually- you end up sitting up next to each other. Fingers and legs tangled together- Yoongi rushing over his words like a babbling brook. And slowly- what he means to do starts to take hold. 

-  The next morning, Seokjin knocks on the door to your bedroom. “Where are Hoseok and Jungkook?” you ask, finishing braiding your hair while Yoongi laces up his boots. Seokjin leans against the door in his silky purple robe, fiddling with its ties. “They’re eating breakfast- you don’t have to worry about them- they’re okay- a little angry with Jimin and Namjoon for leaving but they’ll be okay.” Seokjin looks like they’re more that he wants to say- but doesn’t. “Did you ever manage to put that spell on Jungkook?” 

- “No- but for the life of me I’m going to figure out why” you can tell by the way he shakes his head that it’s not normal. Yoongi snorts a little, sitting behind you to fiddle with the tail of your braid a little. The action is almost subconscious. “It’s probably for the best- otherwise we’d have to clean him out of the rafters constantly.” Seokjin laughs at that- but still looks uncomfortable.  

- “Did you-“ he turns to Yoongi to ask, but it’s you who answers. “He did.” Seokjin seems to straighten up- nodding softly. Holding out his hand for you to take it. “There’s something I want to show you then.” 

- The boy in the glass coffin is something out of a dream. The flowers surrounding him of every single texture and fragrance, orange blossoms, jasmine, autumn clematis, datura, and sweet woodruff all in piles around the sleeping boy. Blanketing him in heaps of white, filling the room with an intoxicating scent. 

- “Who is he?” you ask, watching the way that Seokjin tenderly rubs circles over the glass. Even underneath it- you can see how beautiful the boy is, gangly in his litheness, but with a strong jaw that spoke of a turning of age. You would have thought he was dead if not for the gentle rise of his chest in his pale white shirt. The collar parted a little to show his chest and the runes written on his skin. 

- “His name Taehyung, he’s my lover,” Seokjin looks down at him like he’s about to cry, “Though a better word for us would be soulmates.” finally you know what Seokjin would see if he looked into the mirror in his study. And why he kept it covered- why look at an imitation when he had the real thing upstairs. 

- There is nothing but the most gentle, the most aching love on Seokjin’s face, and also- the deepest sorrow. “Or like Yoongi calls me- his mate” you smile, tipping your shoulder into Seokjin to try and make that look go off his face, his eyes flicker from the sleeping man up to you. “Yes- I suppose that’s right.”

- “What’s wrong with him? why is he in there?” “I put him in an eternal sleep to stop his aging- until I can find a way for us to be together forever- and turn him immortal like me.” “So you’re going to try and turn him into a magician?” 

- Seokjin shakes his head, “Not quite- it’s not possible for there to be more like me.  if I could turn him into a sorcerer like me- then he’d be immortal. But Magic- it isn’t so easily tamed.” Seokjin looks down at his hands, the blue fire creeping between them like some sort of bug, winding back around his fingers, as quick as you can think it- the fire solidifies into a snake- all at once going back to fire- so quick you almost think you imagine it.

- “Magic is particular about its host. If it bonds with the wrong person it kills them- and almost everyone can’t take it. It’s only ever been my family who was able to take the magic. There hasn’t ever been another bloodline that’s been strong enough.” 

- Yoongi had told you about Seokjin’s family. And you’d also seen one of the portraits hanging deep in the castle. Almost as tall as the room it’s self- the people painted at a one to one scale. Half a dozen people, and at the center of it- a chubby-cheeked Seokjin with those luminous purple eyes, probably no more than 6. Holding hands tightly with a female child with equally as haunting blue eyes. All of them- just gone. “And my bloodline is all dead or gone- there’s not much difference.” 

- So Seokjin only has Taehyung and that glass coffin, he gets to watch his love sleep as long as he wants, but cannot touch him. Forever just too far away until he comes back to life. You watch as Seokjin leans- and puts his weight over Taehyung. If there was no glass, he would be lying across his lap. 

- “Once a year I wake him up- on my birthday. Taehyung makes it my birthday present. But mostly it’s to make sure he hasn’t gotten lost wherever he is in his dreams. Sometimes it’s harder than others to get him to come back, but the good thing is that it just feels like a night has passed for him so he doesn’t have to miss me too much.” 

- “Even though it’s been a year for you? Doesn’t it get lonely for you?” 

- His fingers keep stroking lovingly over the glass of the coffin. “Its hard- but it’s not impossible. To get the chance to live with him forever- to get enough time with him- I’d do anything. One day a year is better than an eternity of nothing.” Seokjin turns his eyes on you, “Yoongi wants to do the same for you and Jungkook.” 

- The breath gets knocked out of your lungs, as you turn it over in your head- eternal sleep, immortality, and all of it boiling down to Yoongi. Of course- he’d told you last night- but now it hits you- this room filled with flowers. Seokjin so close to his love and never able to touch him. When you think back to when you’d been stabbed- you remember some words- comforting- Yoongi’s voice that you’d held onto through the darkness. ‘I haven’t had nearly enough time with you yet’

- “But- Jungkook- he’s only a child.” 

- “He killed a man for you, Y/n, he’s not a child anymore, neither is Hobi” you can’t help it. You wipe your tears away with the back of your hand. “I want to talk with Yoongi again,” Seokjin pushes up from his lovers bedside, his hand lingering on the glass coffin- aching to reach inside and touch him for sure- but he can’t. You don’t want to imagine Yoongi in the same fate. 

- You wait while Seokjin gets Yoongi, looking at Taehyung thinking about yourself locked in some sort of glass contraption. The more you look at Taehyung- the more something about him sticks out. You hear footsteps behind you. Seokjin leaves the two of you to talk for a moment. Intent on retrieving some tea for the three of you. It’s still barely before noon. “I think I may have dreamed about him one point- years ago. There’s something familiar about his face.” 

- Yoongi puts his hand on the side of the glass as if to touch Taehyung. “Did you know him?” “Only for a little while- but just enough to understand why Seokjin could never bear loosing him. In many ways Taehyung is what makes the world sweet for Seokjin- no point in living if all there is only bitterness.” 

- “Is that how- is that how you feel about me? Is that what would happen to you if I died? When I die?” Yoongi pulls you close, and before he can manage to pin his emotions inside of his fire-filled chest they spark up like embers and he’s crying- holding you close. “Don’t say that just yet. But it is.” there is nothing else needed but that- Yoongi’s face pinned to your shoulder, his hands holding you like he knows he wont be able to protect you from the world and all the horrors in it. 

- Seokjin walks back in- carrying a tray piled high with cookies and a pot full of tea that smells sweet. Yoongi holds you around your shoulders while you sit, too tired, and still weak from your injury to stand any longer. You don’t look at Seokjin much when you talk, only at Taehyung. 

- “I don’t want one day a year- not with Jungkook and Hobi being so young. And Yoongi doesn’t want me to wait either so- if you can give me one day a month until Jungkook turns 18. We think that could be enough. And if- if Jungkook wants the same treatment, he can choose it for himself. But we can’t make that choice for him. If he doesn’t choose it then I don’t- I won’t-” 

- Yoongi brushes his hands over yours, “we don’t even know- let's ask him first before you start talking like that” But you both think that Jungkook will want it too- even if it could mean an eternity asleep. You’re already doing the math in your head. Putting it together how much time they’d have left to figure out a cure for your mortality. 

- One day a year with a lifespan of about 80 years- that means Seokjin and Yoongi had around 15,000 years before you died to find a way to make you like them. It wasn’t easy- Yoongi couldn’t help but feel like they didn’t have enough time. Seokjin’s been looking for a little over 100 and he hasn’t found much at all. 

- “There is one other thing” Seokjin looks worried- too worried to ask this of both of you. You catch him clutching Jungkook’s baby blanket like it could be a lifeline again- for the hundredth time since you’ve come here.  He’d taken it a few days ago to study it- try and see if he could put a tracking spell on it to find the owner. But unfortunately- the spell only leads back to Jungkook. Not too surprising since it had been in his possession for so long. “If- if Jungkook’s ancestors are somehow connected to my sister's disappearance, then I need to know.” 

- “Seokjin” Yoongi isn’t full of reproach- only pity- because before now- Seokjin’s never doubted the fact that his sister was dead. That was the only reason why she ever would have left him, or stayed away for the last hundred or so years. 

- Seokjin shakes his head “Only a sorcerer could have put done this spell Yoongi. if it was a witch it would have worn off years ago. and I’m the last one of my family left and I didn’t do the spell. If my sister is still out there- then I need to find out. I need you to show me where you found him.” 

- Seokjin turns to where you sit by his loves bedside, through it all; Taehyung’s chest rises up and down. He turns a little fitful in his sleep. “Taehyung won’t wake for another three weeks- if we go tomorrow- we can be there and back in one. I don’t trust Taehyung with anyone.” his eyes flash with a flood of purple, dangerous as he stares at you, “but I think I can trust you- that’s my price. I’ll put you to sleep like him if you look over him for me while we’re gone.” 

- You nod softly, “that’s more than reasonable” “make sure your children don’t terrorize my castle either” Seokjin rubs at his temples. “God they’re- Hoseok is entirely re-ordering my series on shrinking spells- he thinks he’s putting them back right but- ugh- it's going to take me an age to put them back in order”

- “You can feel what they’re doing?” you ask surprised. “I can feel everything” Seokjin says, melancholy and bleak. “Everything that goes on in this castle if I’m not distracted enough- it kind of gets-” Seokjin’s chest heaves a little unevenly. “Overwhelming. That’s why I can’t live close to anyone all of their thoughts and wants and needs on display- like you. I can tell that you want Yoongi to sit closer to you because you're worried about what he’ll be like when he can't touch you, and I can tell that he’s still calculating something- and it’s making you nervous- please stop- it’s making everything worse Yoon.”

- Yoongi straightens up, his cheeks blushing a little before he pulls his chair closer to yours. You give up after a moment, standing up to sit in his lap. Seokjin doesn’t look uncomfortable- only mollified. Still shaky. “Taehyung used to be the only thing that would make it better-“ 

- “Can you tell what he’s dreaming of?” the way that he’s looking at Taehyung, it’s like he wishes he could lean forward and pulls him closer. Curl up with him on his lap the same way Yoongi is doing with you.  

- “Sometimes” his fingers tap on the glass, “but most of the time it’s hard to see through the glass. And it’s almost worse then- because when you can see your love- but you can’t touch them or hold them or talk with them- it almost makes it worse” he turns to Yoongi sharply. “I guess you’ll find out.” 

- Seokjin’s chest is still heaving unevenly and it makes you alarmed- especially when you see one of the roses by the window shake so hard all its petals fall off- you can almost feel it- the way the air trembles. A glass bottle on the shelf rattles, and nearly falls off the edge before it’s pushed back. 

- Seokjin’s hands shake too. You reach out- gently covering Seokjin’s hands with yours over the glass coffin. “If you can’t see him- maybe talking about him will help calm you down” your voice is low and honeyed- like you’re comforting a startled doe. 

- Yoongi can see the way Seokjin visibly shutters at the contact- almost shakes too much and Yoongi curses himself a little internally. His friend has been on his own for so long and it’s so painful to see. He’s so incredibly starved for human touch. Seokjin leaves his hand under yours over the glass casket, lets you touch him even though it looks like it’s overwhelming to him- so much so that it almost hurts.

- Yoongi knows what that feels like- remembers feeling much the same the first time he’d ever touched you- those first lingering touches- when you’d pass him baby Jungkook- or the feel of his son in his arms- such a slight boneless weight, warm and soft in all the most endearing ways. 

- You’re such a natural healer- and Seokjin looks so distraught- so achingly lonely- you can’t not reach out and try to make it better. If he’s going to give you Yoongi your family forever- the least you can do is offer him this. 

- “Taehyung was- Taehyung is an effervescent person.” Seokjin looks at his love when he says the words- soft and slow. “There are certain people that only come along once in a lifetime- that you are destined to meet. My sister- she was the fortuneteller of the family- she was the one who always saw what was going to happen to us before it did. And if she’d been able to meet him- I’m sure she would have said it was fate, because there isn’t any other explanation for him loving me.” 

- “Humanity is a delicate thing- you all- chase immortality like you should want it- like memories should be eternal- but they aren’t. It didn’t use to bother me- not being able to remember where I was born or how I grew up- but Taehyung- Taehyung made me not want to forget a single second.”

- “He was a farm boy, grew up with a big family as poor as could be but never with an empty stomach. even now,  if I think hard enough- I can still taste his peach tart on my tongue. He makes it for me every year on my birthday. I wake him up and he makes me a peach tart and we eat it. Tae calls it “every day a birthday” 

- “He’s the one who made me put him to sleep you know- I was prepared to live with him until he died and then- find a way to end my life myself- I wanted it- I more than wanted it but Tae- he saw right through me. He almost died just before. Got hit in the head during one of the last battles.” 

- Seokjin looks at Yoongi, and Yoongi nods. “I remember, Namjoon and I were fighting on the mountainside, and we saw this black cloud flood the valley- like smoke. And by the time it dissipated, there was only Seokjin and Tae left.” you bristle internally- wondering how powerful the man who sits across from you is if he can fell an army in a single day. 

- “I put him to sleep so that I could heal him- so that he wouldn’t die. The initial spell wasn’t much different than the one that’s on him now. I stitched him together cell by cell until his brain was healed. I was so worried when he woke up that he wouldn’t remember me but he did- and the first words out of his mouth were; ‘I knew you would die for me- but you also have to live Jinnie- both of us do- I’m not letting me be the reason you die.”

- You look up sharply at Yoongi when he intakes a jagged breath- “would you do the same for me Yoongi?” he can’t answer, only keeps holding your hand. And you know just by the way his eyes flood with tears and his shoulders hunch in that yes- that is the case. 

- Suddenly you’re flustered, standing up, “Okay this is a lot- we need to hug it out” you gesture expectantly with your open arms, suddenly not able to handle all of the emotion in the room without doing something about it.

- Yoongi gives an aborted protest at you standing. And Seokjin flushes all the way to his ears again. Both of them folding in around you- your arm coming up to loosely tug Seokjin into your arms and he goes gratefully after a moment of reluctance. Both of them holding onto you limply. “I don’t get hugs a lot.” Seokjin says, his voice sounding small and shy. 

- “Well it’s a good thing I have some to spare.” Yoongi gives you a thankful look before he tucks his face in close kissing your forehead and then dragging burying his face in your shoulder. both of them taller than you, hunched over to hug you properly. 

- The three of you hug for a bit and then you pull apart first- because as much as you are always happy to comfort him. Your side is starting to ache a little- and you need to sit down. Both of them understand, even if you do see Seokjin’s hand reach out a little at first- unwilling to part with his first source of human comfort in a little less than a year. 

- “Tell me more- tell me all of the good things” Seokjin launches into the story of when they first met without a second thought- smiling this time. Yoongi sends you a thankful look. Somewhere along the line. The room has stopped shaking with Seokjin’s tremulous emotions. And with his focus firmly on all of the happy memories he has with Taehyung he relaxes a little. 

- All in all though, it might not be the best moment for him to lose his concentration. As your 15 and 13-year-old sons are left unchaperoned in a house full of very magical and very dangerous objects and spellbooks. Not the best moment for Seokjin to be occupied.

- If he hadn’t been so distracted, he might have realized sooner- before it was too late. 

- Jungkook and Hoseok have found their way through the library and into a second more hidden library, then down a set of steps that where slippery with moss- through a separate hidden passageway and then through a door- which didn’t open for Hoseok- and then miraculously and for some unknown reason opened for Jungkook. (But don’t worry- you’ll discover why in the next 5,000 words or so- so please be patient) 

- “Huh- Seokjin- Hyung was really right- the spells really won’t work on you” Jungkook just shrugs, happily shoving back the heavy iron door using all his body weight to push it open. “He should have put a real lock on it- then that might have kept me out” 

- Hoseok smiles at Jungkook’s cockiness- only 13 and Hoseok can only think that if Jungkook where a character in one of your storybooks, He could have been a formidable child thief. “And besides what do they expect- we don’t have anything to do here. It's his fault for not giving us something to do!” 

- When Jungkook grins at Hobi- Hobi can almost feel the future. The mischief that both of them are going to get into once Hoseok gets large enough to carry them both around the world- they want to see it all. 

- Hoseok is glad- after a few days of being in a dream-like fog- it seems as though Jungkook is almost back to normal. There have been a few moments- one where he saw Jungkook flinch back from some warm water- washing up for dinner. And another, when he’d washed the clothes they’d been in that day to get out the blood. But other than that- he seems to be handling everything as well as can be expected. 

- Hoseok knows (as Hoseok always knows) that Jungkook is waiting for the right time to vent to you and Yoongi about it. Hoseok wants to too- and figure out why he doesn’t feel as affected- and it’s not like he feels heartless- like he doesn’t care that he killed people. No- he feels guilty but he figures those men had made a choice just like Hoseok had made a choice.

- The room is piled high with all but the creepiest of things- crystals glow a dull purple in the wall- as glass eyes curl and blink from a few crevasses here and there where the plaster has fallen away and the bricks are exposed. Glittering potion bottles, teeth in glass jars as well as something fluffy and black that taps at the side of one with sharp claws. 

- A glowing sphere here and there- nothing too bad- nothing too out of the ordinary. Stacks of black leather diary’s stacked on a shelf- more shelves crammed with things. Jungkook dashes off before with a happy hum before Hoseok can keep up, preoccupied with taking everything in. The younger disappearing through the maze of shelves and piles.

- Hoseok’s wades through the collection slower. There is something about the smell down here, Hoseok’s nose smarting with something acrid, that he doesn’t like- doesn’t want to be around at all. “Jungkookie?” Hoseok calls, walking through the isles of potions and books; somehow he’d lost sight of jungkook almost immediately. He walks too quickly, almost knocking over a fishbowl full of squids with human faces. His head bumping into some sort of crusty dried plant- the flower blooms when he touches it- but then dies when he moves away.

- For some reason he feels like he should apologize to it- and when he does- the flower bows back.  A shiver works his way down his spine. A feeling like he’s being watched by something old and ancient sinking its claws into the back of his neck. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

- “Ugh... Kookie! I don’t think we should be down here!” he calls, looking frantically around for his companion. and then he spots Jungkook, or the back of his head, walking forward slowly. It’s then that he sees it, set into a wall of shelves, a glass box faintly glowing, its door sliding open with a faint squeak.

- Hoseok can feel the pounding in his ears strengthen as Jungkook walks towards it growing closer to thunder. the light in the box, a long glowing stick that can only be described as a wand pulsing in time with the thundering in his ears- probably in Jungkook’s too. He shouts Jungkook’s name again but he doesn’t turn.  

- When Hoseok speaks it feels like he’s talking through water, runs forward to pull Jungkook back from the box, because whatever it is it can’t be good but the younger just pushes him off. It’s then that Hoseok realizes that something is wrong- terribly wrong.

- Jungkook’s eyes are wide, pupils dilated and glassy, lips parts as he stares at the wand, not even seeing Hoseok, “Kookie- stop I don’t think we should mess with-“ before Hoseok can stop him, Jungkook is reaching out, touching the wand. It’s so gentle, almost a caress. Hoseok sees it- the moment Jungkook’s brown eyes flood with bright blue- and the world explodes in a cloud of energy and magic.

- Seokjin is just telling you about the time that Taehyung tried to convince Seokjin into dying Taehyung’s hair bright pink when he pauses in the middle of a sentence. Mouth hanging open for a second before he’s cursing and disappearing in a flash- one moment present and the next not. You and Yoongi hear his voice a moment later- booming out with some sort of spell. “The basement- they found their way into- shit- fuck!”

- You and Yoongi break out into a run, and the house seems to move around you- aiding in guiding you towards them- the floors sloping down when you need and doors opening seconds before you pass them almost making Yoongi almost collide to one of them more than once. Yoongi keeps a hand on your side- supporting you enough that it barely hurts when you run. “Not that way you idiot- this way.”

- The belly of the castle gets progressively darker, glowing crystals hanging in alcoves and mushrooms growing in crevasses. Little hidden creatures that definitely are not mice making little screeching noises and running from the direction of where Seokjin guides you. Every living thing- even the moss on the walls, slowly itching away from whatever’s happened down there. You can’t run as quickly on account of your wounds but Yoongi doesn’t let you walk alone. Supporting you as you hobble along.

- “Jungkook!” you shout when you see- your son, floating a few feet above in the air, a diffuse cloud of light blue fog surrounding him- Seokjin is quick to stop you with a hand, “don’t touch him! If you want to live we can’t touch him!” Yoongi catches you around your waist just in time. Keeping you from lunging for your son. your shrill shriek of “Jungkook! Hoseok!” 

- Seokjin holds his arms stiff, his hands and fingers bent at awkward angles. Magic sparking between his fingers, the bright purple fire morphs into bubbles on the end of each finger-popping off as they float to Jungkook. Combining and growing in size- encasing him in a glassy cage. Seokjin is the one keeping Jungkook contained, the only thing that separates you all from life- and oblivion.

- A pile of books stirs next to you and a fully shifted Hoseok stirs, tossing books to the ground and sneezing in all of the dust. Shifting in a smooth movement, Yoongi reaching out to touch him- to make sure he’s there an uninjured. “Oh Hobi- oh” you try as he runs to you shifting mid-step, hitting each other and holding on, his head tucked under your chin. 

- “What happened!? What did you touch!?” Seokjin silences your protests of his tone with a look. “Just a- a wand I think?” Hoseok is small and scared in your arms. Seokjin looks enraged. “Don’t you know not to touch other people's things? Jungkook could have blown this castle and half the country to dust! And now he’s-“ 

- Seokjin chokes, the magic taking the air out of his lungs, he stumbles, but straightens. Making another complex movement with his hands when the bubble tries to swell. Contained by both his hands now- not just one. “Now it might be too late.” 

- “Seokjin- what happened to him- can he be-” “Yoongi please- it’s all I can do to keep this contained- he must have-” Seokjin cannot meet Yoongi’s eyes, “The wand is trying to bind with him.” The glowing stone at the center of Seokjin’s own chest seems to glow and pulsate stronger at the words. Yoongi almost falls to his knees- no- not Jungkook. You and Hoseok are confused, horror on Yoongi’s face, Hoseok already stepping in-between you and Jungkook- like that will keep you safe from whatever threat.

- “What does this mean?”  it hits him, almost makes him fall to his knees, Hoseok can’t breathe. He can’t feel Jungkook’s soul bond at all- not an inch of it. The light in his chest- the glowing soft press that always lets him know that he’s not alone- isn’t there anymore.

- Seokjin says the words steady, the way only an immortal can. “It means Jungkook is going to die.  And if I don’t keep this bubble around the magic- so will all of us.” 

- Jungkook doesn’t know what happened, one moment he was standing in that room and the next he’s being blown back, back through the darkness and a strange pulsating blue light and into a dark unfamiliar night.

- Also- straight into a puddle. His hands hit the mud dark water soaking his clothes- He splutters as the rain hits his face, his eyes focusing on the dark tree line. The buildings- peaked roofs with bright green tiles- different. He’s never seen them or any that looked like them before. But there are lights in the houses. 

- He stands, his back and pant legs soaked with rain, he figures- there must have been some sort of transporting spell on whatever he touched (because he’d been reading Seokjin’s spell books every chance he gets and he’d discovered that those are a thing). A sudden horror fills him- because wherever he is- it’s certainly not close to Seokjin’s. The air feels colder here- closer to winter than to summer. Strange- he can almost see his breath exhaled in a cloud of blue when he heaves a shaking breath.

- He’s scared for about half a moment- before he hears the telltale whistle of dragon wings- almost unnoticeable- and he see’s the black wings faintly in the night sky, blocking out the stars. A sight he can recognize only because he’s seen it before countless times. Thank god- he thinks- because where ever he’s managed to end up Yoongi has still found him. 

- He starts to run, almost calling out his name. He ends up face to face with him after Yoongi lands soundlessly knowing to stay a little ways back incase his dad doesn’t see him yet. Yoongi’s eyes sparking with a familiar yellow glow when he runs forward to greet him. “I don’t know what happened dad, one moment I was there and now I’m-” 

- It surprises him- when Yoongi opens his maw and spits fire.

- He flinches, but it only takes him opening his eyes realizing that he’s not dead he’s not burning. The fire isn’t going around him- but through him he realizes when he holds his hand up. He’s confused- his mind tries to justify that it’s just a spell- the last few weeks have led him to assume that- the amount of charms that he’d begged and bugged Seokjin to put on him. (Much to the elder's frustration when the vast majority of spells just don’t work) Some sort of protective charm it must be. Like the one on his scarf that Seokjin had seemed so so interested in. 

- He hears the screaming- the ear-piercing shrieking as the people run out of their houses- a gong sounds. But its already too late. “Dad- you’ve got to stop why are you-” but Yoongi just barrels through him, pulling down the roof of a house with one grab of a claw. Jungkook realizes that he must be dreaming when he tries to grab a sword sitting by the stoop of one of the houses and his hand goes straight through the handle.

- Jungkook stares at his hand for a moment- Dreaming- this must be a dream- that’s the only justification for why Yoongi would be doing this- why he would ignore Jungkook and why he would be hurting all of these people. 

- All of the carnage- the people burning and screaming- some of them running, trying to roll on the ground to put their burning clothes out. Jungkook stands in the middle of it all- powerless to do anything. Jungkook watches as Yoongi tosses one back against a tree. The mans back breaking with an audible shatter that jars his ears. 

- When the carnage stops He’s crying, climbing over a broken house. looking into the face of a charred corpse when Yoongi finally shifts human. “Dad” he’s crying when he tries to walk to him. “Why did you do this? Why did you hurt these people? Please I need to know- I can’t-” 

- Yoongi doesn’t respond, looks at the surrounding world with disgust and hatred, and turns to walk away- he can’t hear Jungkook- can’t hear him at all. “FUCK- JUST LOOK AT ME GOD DAMN IT!” Jungkook shouts, near hysterical. He feels his words startle something- a small flinch under the boards in his feet. And suddenly a shrill crying starts up. 

- That makes Yoongi turns at that, surprise in his face, he moves a heavy board and Jungkook moves to let him. He recognizes the red baby blanket first- how many times had he twined that little thing around his neck- loving the familiar comfort of the fabric. The squirming little thing is small- probably no more than 6 months old at the most, blood on his cheek. 

- Jungkook reaches a hand to touch the scar on his face. “That’s me isn’t It.” no one is there to answer it as he watches. Looks- and doesn’t understand what he’s seeing. 

- It’s- this is a memory- not a dream. 

- The baby version of himself settles into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook watches his father look at him. A sudden gentleness in his eyes. “Don’t- don’t leave me here dad- don’t let me die please” his words fall on unhearing ears but the rain starts up again. And Jungkook watches as Yoongi uses his body to shield the small red mass from the deluge above. His words are soft and shaky, “it’s okay- don’t cry- it’s gonna be fine I’ll- I’ll take you somewhere safe.” 

- A tugging fixes in his gut- a feeling like he’s just about to vomit and then he’s thrown into the next memory. He’s at the cottage. The one he barely remembers- but the leaky roof, the chicken coup, and the front porch- that he knows. The times he’d fallen up those two steps. The soft feeling of a baby chick in his hands, a drop of water falling on his cheek- that he remembers. 

- Unlike before- this world is all golden tones- the trees shining bright green. A happy memory at golden hour. And on the front porch leaning against the railing- you and Yoongi stand a few inches apart, and he can tell just by looking at you that you haven’t quite fallen in love yet. 

- Your voices low- you don’t seem to notice Jungkook standing in the grass, but he hadn’t really expected either of you to see him at this point. To his left- he hears a noise- a startling in the chicken coop, a chicken indignant at being bothered, a small body chasseing them.

- “You’ve never told me- how you got Jungkook you know? And if we’re going to do this co-parenting thing, I feel like that’s something I should know.” Your words knock Jungkook’s attention from the younger version of himself back to you both.  Standing next to each other- not letting your shoulders brush, but he see’s you lean a little and gathers that you might want too. 

- “Do you want the truth- or a pretty lie?” your smile is small, Yoongi’s too. “The truth is preferable- we’ll have more than enough time to lie to each other” 

- “Did you kill his parents?” Jungkook can tell the sudden question startles Yoongi. By the way his jaw goes tight and his eyes go down. Won’t meet yours. “It’s alright if you did- not much we can do about it now.” 

- “Are you sure?” Yoongi asks, “yes- I think if we raise him at all well- when he finds out- it will hurt sure. But if we raise him well enough he’ll know that you didn’t have a choice.” Your voice dies in your throat. When you see Yoongi’s crestfallen expression. “Yoongi what are you thinking?” 

- “I’m thinking that He’ll hate me when he finds out- he should hate me- you should hate me- do you know how many humans I’ve killed? How much blood is on my hands? You shouldn’t- I shouldn’t-’” 

- Jungkook sees Yoongi flinch back when you reach out to him- on the porch, Jungkook can hear a giggle- a small black head of hair that must be his own poking up in the tall grass. Chasing a chicken through the underbrush in his direction. God- he doesn’t ever remember being that small.

 “Yoongi” you try to stop him as he spills out into the soft grass. A few feet from where Jungkook stands. Golden light shining overly bright in his black horns. “I should go.”

- You look scared when you ask, “are you going to come back?” “I don’t know” he’s being honest Jungkook realizes, hand on the railing. You look so much younger than Jungkook ever remembers seeing you.

- The chicken dashes across Jungkook’s path, and in the grass- a small body tottels- Jungkook looks down at himself, so small and innocent- even now- adventurous. And for a brief moment, he stares into his own eyes- and sees a flash of curiosity in his child self’s face. Jungkook looks around to find something his child self might be staring at and finds nothing but himself. The young boy reaches up a hand and lets out a happy giggle- pointing at Jungkook like he can see him. 

- The next moment is much like the first, all dark and black tones. Only this time the earth is sandy and sooty beneath his feet. There are so many of Hobi’s kind here- great big birdlike dragons. But it’s also as chaotic as the first. The world on fire red feathers falling from the sky. Jungkook is inside of an unfamiliar house looking out the window.

- Jungkook can hear the men shouting outside, as he looks around the house- the nest. It’s a simple accept for the golden plate wear and the shining tapestry on the wall. He hears a crash a roar. And massive being crashes into the doorway as fire roars outside. The dragon shifts- the woman limping in her human form- her golden horns polished and sharpened to points on either side of her cheeks.

- “Hoseok! Hoseok baby we have to go- go with your sister and get out of here” a small redhead- his soulmates head pokes up from underneath the kitchen table his horn catches on the edge as he stands sending the gold plate wear clanging to the ground. He runs for the woman, his little hands fisting in her long patterned skirt.  “No! I won’t leave without you alpha!” the woman grabs a long sword hanging by the door. “Stay here- your sister will be back in a moment! I can’t stay my little hatchling” she turns away, tearing Hoseok’s hands from where they clutch at her skirt forcefully.  

- And Jungkook watches, horror-stricken as Hoseok heads out after her. So small, shouldering his arms as he heads out into the bloodbath- too young to understand. Too young to understand and yet Jungkook knows that Hoseok will grow up a lot today- that he won’t ever really be the same. “Stop Hobi- you can’t“ Hoseok’s head whips around at the last moment, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, looking around the room for the source of the voice- but sees nothing. Continuing on after a moment. 

- The next few memories are a flurry- go too fast for Jungkook to really gather what they mean, one after another. The memories piling over each other like pages in a book. Hoseok in dragon form looking down at a younger version of himself, his tongue flicking out to lick at his cheek. Dialogue from you and Yoongi spoken through the darkness. “How did this happen- how did they get through the mountains?”

- Yoongi’s voice answering your question. “Happens more often than you think- it’s easier to get through in the south- where the snow doesn’t fall as thick. My parents died in much the same way.” The fog around Jungkook thickens, sinking into his lungs and choking him. Jimin voice- not yours, delicate and lilting. The sensation of a hand dragging through his hair. Asleep by a fireplace with the taste of the salty ocean on his tongue.

- “Dragons and humans are like separate sides of the same coin- can’t stab one without running through the other.” Yoongi agreeing, “A nest gets raided- and a dragon like me gets sent to kill a whole town. If we keep fighting- the bloodshed is never going to end Namjoon.” 

- The next time Jungkook lands on even footing, he’s in the cave in the mountains and everything is golden again. He can see out the wide opening from this angle, and when he sees the green dragon in the sky circling above. He remembers this day, the first time he’d seen a dragon that wasn’t Hobi or Yoongi. He remembers how scared he’d been- Yoongi attacking with an almost feral power. He looks back into the cave as the dragon descends to your spot in the rocks waiting for his father to take action and protect you. 

- But Yoongi still isn’t turning, still doesn’t see what’s about to happen, Jungkook’s anxiety builds as he sees the dragon start into a low spiral. Spotted you in the rocks. Jungkook looks down and sees a red head and a black head dancing here and there as they play a game that Jungkook’s forgotten the rules of. Looking back at Yoongi- any moment now- Yoongi will realize what’s about to happen, any moment now he’ll come to your rescue. 

- But time ekes on- precious seconds- his father will be too late if he doesn’t go now. And you will die.  Jungkook doesn’t think- just runs over and tugs- actually tugs on Yoongi’s sleeve. 

- This time- his hand doesn’t just go through Yoongi, this time he actually touches him. “Did you want a snack?” Jungkook tugs again, because Yoongi still isn’t turning. When Yoongi turns he still sees no one there. He calls his name once, and then Hobi’s and by that time he sees, he’s jumping through the opening to fly to your aid leaving Jungkook standing in that cave. 

- Jungkook feels his shoulders curl in on himself, “I want to go home- please just- take me back” and the cloud that surrounds him- what can only be magic- listens to him. 

- This is different than Jimin's plant magic, the wordless sort of magic that has the world leaning in. The kind makes the world stop in place and turn around him. Every inch of intent spoken by his mouth an order that time will bow too. 

- If dragons and humans are two sides of the same coin- then so are Seokjin and Jungkook. 

- Jungkook wakes up- his eyes shooting open in the bubble- no whites of his eyes, only bright blue. The bubble bursts in a flash of power and light that hits you like a gale. Its only Yoongi’s quick thinking that keeps you and Hoseok from falling backward. Even Seokjin has to bring up an arm to shield his eyes from the flash of blinding light. Jungkook hits the floor with his hands out, catching himself before he falls. 

-   “I don’t hate you” is the first thing he says when he lifts his head, chest heaving scrambling to his feet. Running to Yoongi without a second thought tears in is eyes. 

- “What- Kookie-“ Yoongi barely comprehends his youngest throwing his arms around his neck, pulling him in close tightly for a bruising hug. “it’s okay- you’re safe now Jungkook” Jungkook pulls back- a smile in his face and tears in his eyes. “Dad I really don’t- I saw it- I saw you- the night you got me- and you need to believe me- I don’t hate you.” 

- “Jungkook what are you talking about,” Hoseok asks, disbelieving, so relieved to feel the soulbond back in place in his chest that he’s breathless.  Jungkook looks between your faces- one after the other. Smiling so wide his nose scrunches. “I saw it- your memories, the night you found me! I was going to be a dragon hunter wasn’t I? But I wouldn’t have wanted to be. That’s why you didn’t let me fight, but I love you guys- I’d never hurt you- I understand why you did what you did and this doesn’t change a thing- I understand everything now.” 

- “Well that makes one of us- is anyone going to tell me what just happened?” Hoseok snarks.  “I don’t know either Hobi,” you say, shaking your head. But Yoongi is almost crying as Jungkook’s words hit him. Because how could it be? how does he know? and does he really understand? His first instinct is to believe that Jungkook couldn't. but then, when he sees Jungkook’s face, sad- but not angry- not at Yoongi at least, all of the fight going out of him. 

- That’s the second time Jungkook ever sees his father cry. Touching his cheek and pulling him in. “My little hatchling I-“ he’s at a loss for words, something that feels like pride and hope clawing its way- vicious and golden up through his chest. 

- Yoongi’s arms reach out- tugging the four of you close- he can barely get his arms around you all- the three people that matter the most in the world to him. All in one spot. Yoongi holds onto the three of you tighter, like his own arms will be enough to shield them from the horrors of the world.

- Besides all of you Seokjin falls to his knees, his eyes unable to leave Jungkook. Uneven breath heaving in his chest- his focus- his whole world narrowing down to Jungkook too. 

- “I’m not- I’m not alone- I can’t believe it- I-” 

- The four of you look up where Seokjin sits, pulling himself over on his knees his trembling hands reaching out for Jungkook. A part of you that feels fiercely protective wants to reach out and stop him from touching your son- too soon after having him in mortal peril. “Seokjin- what do you mean?” beside you, Hoseok straightens up; letting out a small sigh of relief- this has been a stressful 30 minutes- that’s for certain. 

- “Hold out your arm Jungkook” Jungkook does, where once his forearms had been bare, now a light hovers below his skin. a line of brilliantly glowing blue the length of his forearm. The magic wand embedded in his skin where it will sit for the end of time- or until Jungkook dies- whichever comes first. 

- The veins in his arms glowing too- taking the magic to the rest of his body. Not rejecting it at all- but growing to accommodate the magic, which has chosen Jungkook as his host. 

- The four of you huddle around him, and when Hoseok tries to reach out and touch it too- a little bolt of lightning sparks and shocks him he flinches But reaches forward again- in awe anyway. Pleased to find the same thing doesn’t happen the second time when he clenches the hand of his soul-bonded partner. 

- “If you where human bonding with the wand would have killed you” Seokjin’s hands are soft on Jungkook’s arm as he traces the line of the wand almost lovingly. “What does it mean” Jungkook breathes, the wand feels Bulging and hard underneath Jungkook’s skin not uncomfortable, but not pleasant either.

- “It means that you’re not human Jungkook- you’re a sorcerer like me.”

I know times are tough on all of us, but if you like reading my stories please donate to my Kofi to help support my work!

[thusspeaksdingdong]

On Destiny and Marriage

Destiny and marriage, thus do I speak to the unmarried. It is neither one's destiny to be married too soon, nor is marriage for the destined too late.

Timing is everything, but love has naught to do with time. If you would be in love, I would have you not glance at the clock!

A destiny and a marriage do you seek, yet do you seek your destiny and marriage?

For many are they who are destined to be married, but only as bats in their blindness find each other.

Many are the married who call themselves destined, yet their marriage is made of time and a false destiny.

But are you willing to do this: to shatter false gods and false destinies?

Painful is the marriage of the all-too-many. They would convince the world they are in love. Yet even when alone, they never knew what love is.

The Woman of Urania is our First Love. Never could I know how to to give love were it not for my First Love.

And for those who look for marriage in this valley of tears, I would have two stars cross in the heavens: thus do I call marriage.

Rare and hallowed is this marriage made in heaven. It would compel even the planets to revolve around it. Such is its will.

But the horoscope marriage, the marriage of the superfluous, this is only the destiny of madmen and the grave.

Yet true love is also of the grave. It would die in itself in order to be reborn. It would burn itself to ashes in order to be sanctified.

But are you willing to do this: to enter the grave? Are you willing to give a hand to the ghost that frightens you?

Courage and death are inseparable. One needs great courage for the tomb. Yet many are the Don Giovannis wielding great courage, who are unwilling to die for what they love!

The rose of your affections can only grow from the compost of the past. So when your rose blossoms, be sure that it is much tended.

Blessed be the rose which blooms from the grave. But contempt be for the Hallmark marriage, which you can get anywhere. Although one must perish for love, one must not perish because of love!

Thus speaks Ding Dong.

[driveaugust1-blog]

Some Candid Thoughts On My Conservative Home State, Which I So Desperately Wanted To Leave

I grew up in the suburbs of Atlanta, and for as long as I can remember, I could not wait to leave. Despite the fact that I did have a fairly progressive group of friends, Georgia felt like nothing more than an oppressive conservative bubble. My high school was pretty unofficially segregated, and I remember being taught that the Civil War was about states’ rights, not slavery. I attended a dance studio owned by two men, who never talked about the fact that they lived together and wore wedding bands. I did everything I could to let everyone know how much I resented the south. When I decided I was going to go to college in Vermont, I could tell how much it bothered even some of my teachers — which only reinforced my thinking that the south was Bad, and New England was Good.

(I didn’t quite know it at the time, but I grew up with a lot more financial privilege than many, if not most, of my peers. I always knew I’d be able to go to college wherever I’d like, without going into debt, because my parents could afford it — my mom was able to go to college seven or eight states away, and she wanted the same thing for her kids. And lucky for her, she was able to cover the costs of that.)

I was expecting to find in Vermont the liberal Utopia I desperately wanted to live in, and in a way, I did. My college boasted dozens of inclusive on-campus clubs, centers for LGBT students and students from multiple cultural backgrounds, and a robust Women’s and Gender Studies program. I attended a free sex-ed event called “I <3 Female Orgasm” and took a “sociology of sexualities” class my freshman year (and from both learned I’d been a lot more sheltered than I’d previously thought). I met lots of people with different gender identities and sexual orientations who actually spoke of them openly. And heck, composting bins were everywhere!

I can honestly say I love Vermont with a huge piece of my heart. But it, and all of New England and the rest of “liberal America,” is far from the Utopia I’d believed it to be. I could see evidence of this on my college campus alone. I once got lured into a meeting for a Catholic anti-choice group based on the promise of free pizza, and I could always count on inducing a few eye-rolls if I ever brought the word “anti-feminist” into conversation at a party. And there were many even more insidious occurrences. Some of my friends were called homophobic slurs on multiple occasions — someone I knew even got a block of ice thrown at their head from a moving car. There were many student protests against my school administration’s apparent lack of resources and opportunities for marginalized students. One of my school’s fraternities got shut down after passing around a “rape survey” (it looks like the chapter is going to be reinstated).

I had left my red home state, but the same red ideologies still followed me. They weren’t everywhere, but they weren’t exactly hidden, either.

Now, of course, I recognize that it’s a rather simple life lesson: the world isn’t black and white, and there are all kinds of people with all kinds of flawed worldviews and blind spots everywhere. A progressive Utopia does not exist. For instance, I recently walked by a huge, rather daunting anti-choice rally in the middle of Manhattan’s Times Square. Massachusetts, as I only learned as an adult, is a notoriously racist place to live, and it hit a 10-year high in reported hate crimes in 2017. Bigotry isn’t unique to the south, or to “Heartland America.” But here’s the thing: you don’t hear people say “it’s time to cancel the entire state of Massachusetts.”

For this reason, I’ve been disheartened by many reactions I’ve seen from liberal and progressive people in response to the backwards anti-choice bills that have recently passed in Georgia and Alabama.

Now, I understand why film production companies would refrain from working in Atlanta while such a law is in place. I think that’s a really powerful move, and hopefully one that won’t be for naught. I am hopeful that neither of these bills will go into effect, thanks to efforts like those from the ACLU. But I also understand that, for the people living there, these kinds of boycotts may only do more harm to their livelihood, whether or not they actually induce change. (And for the record, I think you can be personally against abortion but still understand that criminalization will never be the answer. Abortions have been performed for thousands of years, and there is ample evidence that they will continue to occur even if they are made to be illegal — they will simply be much, much less safe.)

I’ve also noticed many dismissive, unkind, often ignorant responses from individuals, saying things like “can we finally just cancel the south” and “life begins the moment you leave Alabama,” as if it’s a choice for poor and/or marginalized individuals to just up and move to a different state whenever they feel like it. It hurts to think about all the people in “red” states who are going to suffer because of these potential laws, and who may already be suffering — and how cavalierly so many supposedly progressive people act towards their livelihoods.

It’s important to remember that a big part of why red states stay red is because of who is in power — and how they manipulate the law and practices in their own favor. In fact, polls have shown that not one state’s population has more than 25% support for a ban on abortion. And frankly, if it wasn’t for some really shady alleged voter suppression during Georgia’s most recent gubernatorial race, Stacey Abrams may very well be the governor of Georgia right now.

All of this is to say that there are people with different views everywhere — there are people who have oppressive, racist, sexist, homophobic and transphobic beliefs in every corner of this country. Yes, it is immensely upsetting when my home state tries to pass laws taking away basic health rights from women and other people with a uterus. (And it’s especially upsetting when you consider that Georgia does have some really wonderful, borderline-socialist programs in place, like the HOPE scholarship program.) I understand why many people would want to move away from red states in their adult lives, both for their own safety and to find community. But while I may fundamentally disagree with people with conservative values, I still want to see a world where they can benefit from legislation that reflects my values. I want them to have livable wages and social safety nets, including easy access to healthcare. To dismiss an entire group of people simply because of their state government, when the reality is that hate exists everywhere, is fundamentally unkind — and the opposite of progress.

(If you’re in a position to be able to and would like to assist in helping people with barriers to entry for the healthcare they need, read this.)

Image via Unsplash

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Source: https://thefinancialdiet.com/i-couldnt-wait-to-leave-my-conservative-home-state-but-it-deserved-better/

[biofunmy]

They Love Trash – The New York Times

JOSHUA TREE, Calif. — Soph Nielsen was sewing garbage onto her black T-shirt (a chicken wing, a crushed Bud Light can, a plastic fork) and struggling to attach a snarl of crusty pad thai.

“This is to get people to see the trash,” she said, her fingers slick with grease. “We don’t want to be the invisible janitors.” With her distinctive appliqués, that was unlikely.

It was the last day of the Joshua Tree Music Festival, a family-friendly event of didgeridoo sound baths, yoga, crafts, electronica and other familiar fare held at a dusty desert campground for three days in October. Ms. Nielsen, a 25-year-old artist whose medium is trash, was one of 20-odd Trash Pirates working the event.

The Pirates are a loose collective of waste management specialists, to borrow a phrase from Tony Soprano, who make sure events are as sustainable as possible through recycling and composting. They also educate attendees about how to do both properly.

Garbage has long been the uncomfortable fallout of the festival world, and as these gatherings multiply like glow sticks at a Phish concert, stretching the season into a year-round party (hola, Costa Rica), its impact has roused young artists and activists like Ms. Nielsen.

Most Pirates start out as volunteers, helping with trash or performing other tasks so as to attend for free. Then they have their “trash moment,” as the Pirates put it, the epiphany that turns volunteer work into a career, and trash into a calling.

“Your first experience of the mass of it, whether it’s loading dumpsters onto a trailer or driving out to the event grounds when everyone is gone and it’s a sea of trash, is an existential crisis,” Ms. Nielsen said. “You are baptized into compost.”

“You’re either in or you’re out,” she added, echoing the rallying cry of a long-ago counterculture movement that involved a bus, “and it becomes a way of life.”

The events themselves — both community-minded and escapist — are morphing into trash camps: days-long immersions into the politics of waste, with lectures and workshops on developing your garbage-handling skills along with your yoga practice.

Some trash stats are in order. In 2017, according to an environmental impact report, Coachella, in Indio, Calif., was generating over 100 tons of trash each day. Many events are now committed to becoming zero-waste endeavors, or as close to it as possible. High “diversion” rates (the percentage of waste not sent to the landfill) are badges of honor. Last spring, the Trash Pirates brought the Joshua Tree Music Festival’s rate up to 77 percent.

In 2017, Coachella’s diversion rate was just 20 percent, apparently because attendees weren’t using the recycling bins. Veterans of Burning Man and other festivals learn acronyms like MOOP, for “Matter Out of Place,” an umbrella term for trash and anything else that doesn’t occur naturally on a site; cigarette butts, broken tents and human waste are some common examples.

Burning Man has a “Leave No Trace” ethos, but the messy camps of bad Burners are called out each year on the festival’s MOOP Map in the hope that public shaming will be a deterrent next time around.

‘Shepherds of the “Away’’’

While there are many waste organizations dedicated to mitigating the environmental impact of such gatherings, the Trash Pirates are distinguished by their zeal and their punk aplomb.

Take Moon Mandel, 24, a filmmaker and Trash Pirate who was managing the operations that weekend at Joshua Tree. Mx. Mandel is nonbinary, and with their bright orange jumpsuit emblazoned with patches stitched with trash graphics (the recycling whorl and other insignia) they looked like an indie Eagle Scout.

As Oscar the Grouch sang his gruff-voiced hymn “I Love Trash,” one of many trash-friendly songs on the Pirates’ playlist, Mx. Mandel said: “It’s very important for people to see the work we do and understand the human scope of it. We are trying to alter the cultural norms of a throwaway society. We teach them that there’s no ‘away.’ We are the shepherds of the ‘away’ and it’s being buried inside the earth forever.”

And so Mx. Mandel performed trash collections, dancing with colleagues as Oscar warbled under a festive tent with gaily painted bins, and sorting garbage (earning $5 a bag) for those campers too busy or negligent to do it themselves.

To attendees who had dutifully separated their food scraps and recyclables and were tipping them into the appropriate bins, Mx. Mandel called out a hearty, “Yarg!” their preferred Pirate cheer.

“Thank you for composting!” Mx. Mandel praised a young woman scraping scrambled eggs out of a frying pan, and then recited some recycling basics: “You can’t compost paper with too much printing on it, or recycle greasy paper. Single-use bags can be taken to supermarkets in California for recycling, so we are collecting them. Make sure everything is clean. You don’t need to rinse your soda or beer cans. But if your stuff is covered in yogurt, it’s not going to be recycled.”

Mx. Mandel has a policy about not working festivals where organizers are charging for water. “The decommodification of water is one of my core beliefs,” they said.

Mx. Mandel was particularly proud of their cigarette-butt program. For the last two years, they have been collecting butts (200,000 and counting, they said) at festivals and sending them to TerraCycle, a company that teams with manufacturers and retailers to recycle or upcycle all manner of products and materials, including action-figure toys, backpacks and toothbrushes. Cigarette butts are turned into plastic pallets; the tobacco is composted.

Sarah Renner, the operations and site manager for the Joshua Tree Music Festival, wrote in an email that the Trash Pirates are “the down and dirty, real as can be, heroes of the event world.”

The Pirates have handled her festival’s waste for the last four years, sweeping, handing out bags and painting barrels with children. “They don’t just pull trash bags and sort recycling,” she said. “They are on a mission to change the way people think while getting everything to where it needs to go.””

The work is brutal. Heat stroke, sunburn, cuts and bruises are common hazards, as is a dousing with trash juice: the pungent slurry that pours from a trash can and into your armpits when you’re hoisting it over your head.

Close-toed boots are encouraged, but don’t always protect. Mx. Mandel’s foot was sliced open, they said, this past February at a festival in Costa Rica by a severed iguana hand that pierced their boot, but most dangers are what you’d think: nails, screws, shards of glass.

Tools of the trade include MOOP sticks, which are long claws for grabbing trash without having to bend over. These are light and rather delicate, with a nice action, and are precise enough to pick up a grain of rice.

Hand sanitizer and liquid soap are requirements; one Pirate, Moose Martinez, had a Purell bottle clipped to the strap of his over-the-shoulder water bag. Work gloves and thin blue food service gloves are part of the uniform, but many of the Pirates were working in their bare hands.

“We call that raw-dogging,” said Luke Dunn, 33, a musician and preschool teacher, as a colleague with clean hands fed him a chocolate-chip cookie. “You try not to touch your face, you wash a lot.”

On the Pirates’ Facebook page, “Trash Pirates and Waste Naughts,” with over 4,000 followers, they share job tips (a recent post was for waste management at McMurdo Station in Antarctica); inspiration (“It’s Called Garbage Can, Not Garbage Cannot”); and education (news clips on California’s recycling woes and posts reviewing the best trash bags or instructions on how to make compostable confetti out of leaves with a hole puncher).

One long thread discussed cleaning up glitter, a particular scourge of Gay Pride parades.

‘The Lost Boys’

The Trash Pirates formed six years ago when two friends, Caleb Robertson, now 26, and Kirk Kunihiro, 29, then living in the San Francisco Bay Area, wanted to go to festivals for free.

While volunteering for the green teams, as they are called, of these gatherings, Mr. Robertson said, “We came to realize that there was a way to express our zero-waste passions within the event industry.”

They learned their craft at Green Mary, a two-decades-old company dedicated to making events sustainable that was founded by Mary Munat, an environmental activist and former Army reservist.

“They are fast, hard-working, green-hearted people,” she said of the Pirates. “I love their energy and greenness, and I am so glad my age-old eco-passions gave birth to so many little green pirates.”

The Trash Pirates was a nickname they gave each other early on, when festivals were more haphazard, and it stuck. In the beginning, Mr. Robertson, said “It was more seat-of-the-pants. Many of us were living out of our vehicles. That’s the thing: Trash can attract people who don’t feel like they have a place to go, giving people purpose in a space where they had none. Kind of like the Lost Boys. People are interested in the party, but it becomes empty if you don’t have a purpose.”

Next year, they hope to work upward of 30 events. “The work isn’t going to stop, I’m almost scared of it,” Mr. Robertson said, adding that he and many of his colleagues are looking to expand beyond the festivals and tackle community projects in Los Angeles, where he now lives, and beyond.

Mx. Mandel is devoted to filmmaking; Ms. Nielsen to art and activism. “But we are all still united by trash,” Mr. Robertson said. “We recognize that festivals are a stage and a platform to reach people, but we also know that it’s just a Band-Aid and the best thing we can do is to concentrate on government policies and community work.”

Mr. Kunihiro, who also lives in Los Angeles, started his own waste-consulting business, which includes a waste sampling service that analyzes the composition of waste streams — work that makes festival trash seem as clean and fresh, he said, as birthday cake.

He has led tours for fourth graders of recycling plants in the Bay Area; at Joshua Tree, his water bottle was a tiny blue toy recycling bin, a gift from his mother.

Another Pirate, Stephen Chun, talked about the awkward moment when he is asked what he does for a living. “A lot of people are like, ‘Huh, that’s nice. Good for you,” he said. “The feedback over time goes from being, ‘Oh, you’re the trash guy’ to, ‘Oh, you’re a hero.’ Now I say I’m a zero-waste events consultant.”

Ms. Munat said, “People see us going through the recycling and offer us their sandwiches. And we’re like, ‘No, it’s O.K., we’re getting paid.’”

Because trash is ascendant as a problem and a paradigm, it continues to grow as a métier. “In 1995, when I first starting teaching about waste, it was a boutique subject and not considered appropriate for academic study,” said Robin Nagle, a professor of anthropology and environmental studies at New York University who specializes joyfully in garbage.

She has been anthropologist-in-residence at the New York City Department of Sanitation for more than a decade; her book “Picking Up: On the Streets and Behind the Trucks With the Sanitation Workers of New York City” was published in 2013. Professor Nagle is a founder of what’s known as discard studies, a new interdisciplinary field of research examining waste politically, culturally and economically.

“You can take any piece of trash as an object in the world and track it from its raw materials though its journey into the marketplace as a commodity,” she said. “At any of those points it will connect not just to the proliferation of garbage as a form of pollution but a host of any other environmental crises including the big megillah that is climate change.”

Of the Trash Pirates she said, “They are pushing boundaries in wonderful ways. I would be curious to see what they’re doing in 20 years. Do they bounce from this ebullient, youthful thing to something more settled? And will the planet be even closer to the brink of destruction?”

We shall see, but in the meantime, as is their practice, the Pirates swept the Joshua Tree Music Festival campgrounds clean by forming a MOOP line, as it’s known, with each Pirate three to four feet apart and armed with a MOOP stick and a bucket, and moving from the perimeter to the center.

Mx. Mandel said, “Like one amoeba we slowly devour the MOOP.”

Sahred From Source link Fashion and Style

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[number06fan]

Agricultural Practices Defend Against Ecoli with 8 Simple Principles

There have been plenty of examples of mass produce recalls in the past few years.  There have been some historic record-breaking outbreaks and trends.  Eggs, beef, romaine, romaine, romaine…  You get the jist of it.

But how do we prevent it from happening.  Food passes through so many hands on their way from the farm to your kitchen.  First you have the conditions at the farm.  Then you have the workers and equipment that harvest the crop.  After that most produce is sent to packaging plants and/or distributors.  Then transported to grocers who also handle the food.  So many steps and so many opportunities to become contaminated.

So what is the best way to keep our fruits and vegetables free from harmful bacteria such as E. coli?  Like most things, you start from the beginning.  In this case – the farm.

Now I know what you are thinking.  What about all of those hands I just mentioned.  Shouldn’t they do their part too?  Of course.  Though many contamination events occur from a farm source and is spread to other food products through those extra steps and hands.

If all farmers worked toward minimizing microbial food safety hazards, our food can be much safer.  Each step in the process can work toward this safety goal.  This is the premise of a guidance document provided by the United States Food and Drug Administration (FDA), Guide to Minimize Microbial Food Safety Hazards for Fresh Fruits and Vegetables.

This idea is broken down into 8 principles, that if followed will greatly reduce foodborne contamination at the source and consequently avoid costly and harmful foodborne illness.

Principle #1 – Prevention is Preferred Over Corrective Actions

What’s the old saying.  “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”  Old Ben Franklin had it right.  Proactive measures to prevent a contamination even from occurring in the first place are much better than cleaning up a mess after it has happened.

Water testing practices – It might seem like a no-brainer, but if you put contaminated water on crops, the crops can become contaminated.  But natural irrigation water is safe, right?  Wrong!  If recent events have told us something, it is that what happens upstream is very important.  In the case of the E. coli plagued romaine farmers, the feedlots upstream contributed to pathogenic bacteria from feedlot runoff making its way into irrigation water used in the Yuma, Arizona growing region.  Testing water prior to use for irrigation could have identified the contamination risk and the water would have been treated prior to use.

Pest control – Rats and mice are a constant battle at farms.  The rate in which these vermin reproduce is astounding.  A few stray farm mice can become a huge colony in a matter of months.  These little beasts are a hardship on farms.  Not only do they steal product, they track pathogenic bacteria across the production line.  In the case of the Rose Acres Farms egg recall, rats tracked Salmonella from earlier steps in the production line to the areas where clean and washed eggs were being processed and stored.  While pest control is a feat, it is a never-ending necessity to prevent product contamination and a costly recall.

Principle #2 – Everybody Does Their Part and Control What They Can

Each step of the way, each hand that touches the product has a responsibility to control what they can.  A vendor can select clean producers, but if they drop the ball themselves all that research will be for naught.  Good agricultural and management processes are a healthy way to keep the good product moving forward in a safe manner.

Principle #3 – The Problem is with the Poop

The most common source of contamination of fresh produce is…  You guessed it.  Poop.  Not just animal poop though.  Produce can be contaminated with people poop too.

The crops should be strategically placed in an area that minimizes fecal contamination from neighboring ranches and feedlots as well as wildlife that might make its way through.  Some farmers have problems with wild hogs or deer.  Even rabbits that might deposit their contaminated poop as they nibble on the profits.

It isn’t just animal poop that causes the problem though.  Unsanitary practices can lead to human fecal contamination.  When you hear Hepatitis A contamination in food products it clearly came from a human.  Handwashing practices and a hygiene control plan are important in any food processing, manufacturing, and distribution facility.

Principle #4 – Choose Your Water Wisely

This goes back to Principle #1.  It all comes back to prevention.  Minimizing microbial contamination from a water source is one of the best good agricultural practices.  Choose the source and evaluate water quality for watering crops.

Principle #5 – Compost Carefully

Animal manure makes a rich compost for organic farmers that do not use commercial or synthetic fertilizers.  This type of fertilizer is loaded with appropriate nutrients to make healthy crops, but there are risks.  It is poop after all.  Remember Principle #3?

Animal manure fertilizer should be monitored closely for potential microbial contamination.  It is very much a “benefits must outweigh the risks” kind of situation.  Heat treating or allowing the manure compost to heat treat itself is one way to manage microbial growth.  Testing for these harmful pathogens is preferred.  Personally, I love earthworm poop from a local farm for my herb garden.

Principle #6 – Hand Washing Avoids a Germ Hand Off

Hygiene and sanitation practices in production, harvesting, sorting, packing and transportation are critical to avoid contamination.  Production and distribution facilities should be cleaned at regular intervals and hygiene plans for worker hand washing helps prevent the human component of contamination.

Principle #7 – Follow the Rules

Rules are in place for a reason.  Sometimes they are inconvenient, but they are there for a reason.  Local, State, and Federal laws and regulations and standards were put together to protect the general public.  If you are compliant, chances are you have a much lower risk of contamination issue and subsequent costly recall.

Principle #8 – Accountability is Key

“Qualified personnel and effective monitoring” are key aspects of ensuring good agricultural processes.  Both aspects are key to accountability.  An in-house compliance officer that has the best interest of the customer in mind is very important.  This person should be unbiased and looking for deficiencies to ensure a quality product leaves their hands safely.

By: Heather Van Tassell, Contributing Writer (Non-Lawyer)

The post Agricultural Practices Defend Against Ecoli with 8 Simple Principles appeared first on The Lange Law Firm.

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They Love Trash – The New York Times

JOSHUA TREE, Calif. — Soph Nielsen was sewing garbage onto her black T-shirt (a chicken wing, a crushed Bud Light can, a plastic fork) and struggling to attach a snarl of crusty pad thai.

“This is to get people to see the trash,” she said, her fingers slick with grease. “We don’t want to be the invisible janitors.” With her distinctive appliqués, that was unlikely.

It was the last day of the Joshua Tree Music Festival, a family-friendly event of didgeridoo sound baths, yoga, crafts, electronica and other familiar fare held at a dusty desert campground for three days in October. Ms. Nielsen, a 25-year-old artist whose medium is trash, was one of 20-odd Trash Pirates working the event.

The Pirates are a loose collective of waste management specialists, to borrow a phrase from Tony Soprano, who make sure events are as sustainable as possible through recycling and composting. They also educate attendees about how to do both properly.

Garbage has long been the uncomfortable fallout of the festival world, and as these gatherings multiply like glow sticks at a Phish concert, stretching the season into a year-round party (hola, Costa Rica), its impact has roused young artists and activists like Ms. Nielsen.

Most Pirates start out as volunteers, helping with trash or performing other tasks so as to attend for free. Then they have their “trash moment,” as the Pirates put it, the epiphany that turns volunteer work into a career, and trash into a calling.

“Your first experience of the mass of it, whether it’s loading dumpsters onto a trailer or driving out to the event grounds when everyone is gone and it’s a sea of trash, is an existential crisis,” Ms. Nielsen said. “You are baptized into compost.”

“You’re either in or you’re out,” she added, echoing the rallying cry of a long-ago counterculture movement that involved a bus, “and it becomes a way of life.”

The events themselves — both community-minded and escapist — are morphing into trash camps: days-long immersions into the politics of waste, with lectures and workshops on developing your garbage-handling skills along with your yoga practice.

Some trash stats are in order. In 2017, according to an environmental impact report, Coachella, in Indio, Calif., was generating over 100 tons of trash each day. Many events are now committed to becoming zero-waste endeavors, or as close to it as possible. High “diversion” rates (the percentage of waste not sent to the landfill) are badges of honor. Last spring, the Trash Pirates brought the Joshua Tree Music Festival’s rate up to 77 percent.

In 2017, Coachella’s diversion rate was just 20 percent, apparently because attendees weren’t using the recycling bins. Veterans of Burning Man and other festivals learn acronyms like MOOP, for “Matter Out of Place,” an umbrella term for trash and anything else that doesn’t occur naturally on a site; cigarette butts, broken tents and human waste are some common examples.

Burning Man has a “Leave No Trace” ethos, but the messy camps of bad Burners are called out each year on the festival’s MOOP Map in the hope that public shaming will be a deterrent next time around.

‘Shepherds of the “Away’’’

While there are many waste organizations dedicated to mitigating the environmental impact of such gatherings, the Trash Pirates are distinguished by their zeal and their punk aplomb.

Take Moon Mandel, 24, a filmmaker and Trash Pirate who was managing the operations that weekend at Joshua Tree. Mx. Mandel is nonbinary, and with their bright orange jumpsuit emblazoned with patches stitched with trash graphics (the recycling whorl and other insignia) they looked like an indie Eagle Scout.

As Oscar the Grouch sang his gruff-voiced hymn “I Love Trash,” one of many trash-friendly songs on the Pirates’ playlist, Mx. Mandel said: “It’s very important for people to see the work we do and understand the human scope of it. We are trying to alter the cultural norms of a throwaway society. We teach them that there’s no ‘away.’ We are the shepherds of the ‘away’ and it’s being buried inside the earth forever.”

And so Mx. Mandel performed trash collections, dancing with colleagues as Oscar warbled under a festive tent with gaily painted bins, and sorting garbage (earning $5 a bag) for those campers too busy or negligent to do it themselves.

To attendees who had dutifully separated their food scraps and recyclables and were tipping them into the appropriate bins, Mx. Mandel called out a hearty, “Yarg!” their preferred Pirate cheer.

“Thank you for composting!” Mx. Mandel praised a young woman scraping scrambled eggs out of a frying pan, and then recited some recycling basics: “You can’t compost paper with too much printing on it, or recycle greasy paper. Single-use bags can be taken to supermarkets in California for recycling, so we are collecting them. Make sure everything is clean. You don’t need to rinse your soda or beer cans. But if your stuff is covered in yogurt, it’s not going to be recycled.”

Mx. Mandel has a policy about not working festivals where organizers are charging for water. “The decommodification of water is one of my core beliefs,” they said.

Mx. Mandel was particularly proud of their cigarette-butt program. For the last two years, they have been collecting butts (200,000 and counting, they said) at festivals and sending them to TerraCycle, a company that teams with manufacturers and retailers to recycle or upcycle all manner of products and materials, including action-figure toys, backpacks and toothbrushes. Cigarette butts are turned into plastic pallets; the tobacco is composted.

Sarah Renner, the operations and site manager for the Joshua Tree Music Festival, wrote in an email that the Trash Pirates are “the down and dirty, real as can be, heroes of the event world.”

The Pirates have handled her festival’s waste for the last four years, sweeping, handing out bags and painting barrels with children. “They don’t just pull trash bags and sort recycling,” she said. “They are on a mission to change the way people think while getting everything to where it needs to go.””

The work is brutal. Heat stroke, sunburn, cuts and bruises are common hazards, as is a dousing with trash juice: the pungent slurry that pours from a trash can and into your armpits when you’re hoisting it over your head.

Close-toed boots are encouraged, but don’t always protect. Mx. Mandel’s foot was sliced open, they said, this past February at a festival in Costa Rica by a severed iguana hand that pierced their boot, but most dangers are what you’d think: nails, screws, shards of glass.

Tools of the trade include MOOP sticks, which are long claws for grabbing trash without having to bend over. These are light and rather delicate, with a nice action, and are precise enough to pick up a grain of rice.

Hand sanitizer and liquid soap are requirements; one Pirate, Moose Martinez, had a Purell bottle clipped to the strap of his over-the-shoulder water bag. Work gloves and thin blue food service gloves are part of the uniform, but many of the Pirates were working in their bare hands.

“We call that raw-dogging,” said Luke Dunn, 33, a musician and preschool teacher, as a colleague with clean hands fed him a chocolate-chip cookie. “You try not to touch your face, you wash a lot.”

On the Pirates’ Facebook page, “Trash Pirates and Waste Naughts,” with over 4,000 followers, they share job tips (a recent post was for waste management at McMurdo Station in Antarctica); inspiration (“It’s Called Garbage Can, Not Garbage Cannot”); and education (news clips on California’s recycling woes and posts reviewing the best trash bags or instructions on how to make compostable confetti out of leaves with a hole puncher).

One long thread discussed cleaning up glitter, a particular scourge of Gay Pride parades.

‘The Lost Boys’

The Trash Pirates formed six years ago when two friends, Caleb Robertson, now 26, and Kirk Kunihiro, 29, then living in the San Francisco Bay Area, wanted to go to festivals for free.

While volunteering for the green teams, as they are called, of these gatherings, Mr. Robertson said, “We came to realize that there was a way to express our zero-waste passions within the event industry.”

They learned their craft at Green Mary, a two-decades-old company dedicated to making events sustainable that was founded by Mary Munat, an environmental activist and former Army reservist.

“They are fast, hard-working, green-hearted people,” she said of the Pirates. “I love their energy and greenness, and I am so glad my age-old eco-passions gave birth to so many little green pirates.”

The Trash Pirates was a nickname they gave each other early on, when festivals were more haphazard, and it stuck. In the beginning, Mr. Robertson, said “It was more seat-of-the-pants. Many of us were living out of our vehicles. That’s the thing: Trash can attract people who don’t feel like they have a place to go, giving people purpose in a space where they had none. Kind of like the Lost Boys. People are interested in the party, but it becomes empty if you don’t have a purpose.”

Next year, they hope to work upward of 30 events. “The work isn’t going to stop, I’m almost scared of it,” Mr. Robertson said, adding that he and many of his colleagues are looking to expand beyond the festivals and tackle community projects in Los Angeles, where he now lives, and beyond.

Mx. Mandel is devoted to filmmaking; Ms. Nielsen to art and activism. “But we are all still united by trash,” Mr. Robertson said. “We recognize that festivals are a stage and a platform to reach people, but we also know that it’s just a Band-Aid and the best thing we can do is to concentrate on government policies and community work.”

Mr. Kunihiro, who also lives in Los Angeles, started his own waste-consulting business, which includes a waste sampling service that analyzes the composition of waste streams — work that makes festival trash seem as clean and fresh, he said, as birthday cake.

He has led tours for fourth graders of recycling plants in the Bay Area; at Joshua Tree, his water bottle was a tiny blue toy recycling bin, a gift from his mother.

Another Pirate, Stephen Chun, talked about the awkward moment when he is asked what he does for a living. “A lot of people are like, ‘Huh, that’s nice. Good for you,” he said. “The feedback over time goes from being, ‘Oh, you’re the trash guy’ to, ‘Oh, you’re a hero.’ Now I say I’m a zero-waste events consultant.”

Ms. Munat said, “People see us going through the recycling and offer us their sandwiches. And we’re like, ‘No, it’s O.K., we’re getting paid.’”

Because trash is ascendant as a problem and a paradigm, it continues to grow as a métier. “In 1995, when I first starting teaching about waste, it was a boutique subject and not considered appropriate for academic study,” said Robin Nagle, a professor of anthropology and environmental studies at New York University who specializes joyfully in garbage.

She has been anthropologist-in-residence at the New York City Department of Sanitation for more than a decade; her book “Picking Up: On the Streets and Behind the Trucks With the Sanitation Workers of New York City” was published in 2013. Professor Nagle is a founder of what’s known as discard studies, a new interdisciplinary field of research examining waste politically, culturally and economically.

“You can take any piece of trash as an object in the world and track it from its raw materials though its journey into the marketplace as a commodity,” she said. “At any of those points it will connect not just to the proliferation of garbage as a form of pollution but a host of any other environmental crises including the big megillah that is climate change.”

Of the Trash Pirates she said, “They are pushing boundaries in wonderful ways. I would be curious to see what they’re doing in 20 years. Do they bounce from this ebullient, youthful thing to something more settled? And will the planet be even closer to the brink of destruction?”

We shall see, but in the meantime, as is their practice, the Pirates swept the Joshua Tree Music Festival campgrounds clean by forming a MOOP line, as it’s known, with each Pirate three to four feet apart and armed with a MOOP stick and a bucket, and moving from the perimeter to the center.

Mx. Mandel said, “Like one amoeba we slowly devour the MOOP.”

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