trivia: cursed | BTS

dumpter fire

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Namjoon was dying.

Or close to anyways.

But really, who told him to be a bothersome?

He had been in the library reading up on Korea's Joseon period, he had run out of leads and was hoping that some information of Y/N's curse could be found during this intellectual period of Korean history when he noticed that someone was in his favourite seat.

The one right underneath the sunlit window in the corner that had the most natural light. The one that always was the perfect temperature, close enough to the air vents during the winter and summer.

Namjoon thought of himself as a rather easy going and chill guy, but there was an annoying itch under his skin that told him if he wasn't reading his Joseon period history book in that precise seat then the experience just wouldn't be the same.

The female in his seat was bowed over a book, fingers holding a page as if ready to turn it over at a moment's notice. Her face was obscured by a long sheet of dyed-red hair. 

"Excuse me," Namjoon approached her sheepishly, pulling an airpod out of his left ear while doing so. He hoped he wasn't inconveniencing her too much. "Do you think I could have that seat? It's my regular seat and I don't think reading my book would be the same somewhere else."

She didn't answer him, focused totally engrossed by the book. Namjoon sympathetically understood the feeling of being dead to the world, feeling nothing but fluttering words flit through his mind and blind to outside stimuli.

The stilted library carpet crunched under his feet as he shuffled closer, lifting a tentative hand to touch her on the shoulder.

His finger grazed her bare clavicle and almost his muscles locked up painfully, not unlike a cramp. Like lightning it spread through his finger and past his wrist, the blood circulation already beginning to painfully cut off.

There were many words to describe Namjoon. Clumsy. Intelligent. Tall. Rapper. Hyung. Dongsaeng. Wizard. Warlock. Mage. Cursebreaker. Spellcaster. But perhaps most importantly, his last name; Kim. The Kim Family was notorious for having one of the purest strains of magic in their world. It was freeform magic, not constricted by elements or conditions. Just pure energy for curse breaking, curse casting, manifesting etc.

Any member of the family could be free to pursue any line of work due to the unique nature of their magic.

Namjoon, especially, had a purer strain. A genetic mutation that had served him well. He was well-versed in the knowledge of how superior he was. Even as a child, he'd had ease in shaping his magic and dispelling curses that would've taken teens many years above his age to even see and distinguish.

It was addicting to him. To study the complex nature of things and try and decode it, understand it, dispel it. The ambition and drive to dissect the world and understand it was something that had never been particularly understood, even to him, but he didn't mind it. He thrived off it.

That was partially the reason he had agreed to help Y/N. Her curse was unique, something he had never seen or heard the likes of before. The day after he had headed to the library and scoured the books day in and day out looking for just a fragment of what her curse could possibly be.

While most people would be frustrated at the lack of knowledge, as Namjoon put down book after book, he felt himself being pulled into the mystery.

Though Namjoon was on his third degree and (practically) quadruple majoring, he had never quite been stimulated like this. It was like... this newfound pursuit of knowledge for Y/N's mystery curse had lit a fire under him. And he wasn't inclined to put it out.