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#hmm. noticing a pattern start to develop
currentlyonstandbi · 1 year
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snowydragon10 · 2 months
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I think we're approaching this... "Chapter" of the Showgrounds Saga from the wrong direction
Theory Time!!
(It's a bit of a long one, so take your time)
Ok, so we've all been thinking - most of us at least - that this would be SMG3's Focus Arc and his turn to get character development and/or Trauma via a big movie event, but it's not what we expected. When I asked myself why, I came to some questions and theories
So, we've seen the pattern so far, SMG4's Perfection, Meggy's Idolization, and then WotFI happened, which I think was SMG3's Chapter.
I think what happened was that WotFI was his main event. Instead of building up to the tension, they swapped it and had the big event first with the development after, henceforth all of the focus episodes after WotFI regarding his shop, his selfworth and his place with the Crew.
So, "If SMG3 already had his fair share of Puzzle/Adware interference, then who's the focus for this chapter?" You may be asking, and I have the theory:
It's actually Us the Audience
Think about it! There's always some kind of connection between each Movie/Chapter moving towards the next one! In IGBP, while rescuing SMG4, how did Meggy fight off SMG3? Her splatfest skills (Former Splatfest Champion Wren)!! In Western Spaghetti, what did SMG3 have that added to his character from that point onwards? His bombs (Coffe n' Bombs Cafe)!!
So now, what's one connection with WotFI and this one? We the *Audience* are allowed to add our input based on the situation! (The Heist Plan Votes and the Video Reviews!!)
Not only that, BUT when WotFI finished and we got that post credit scene, Mr. Puzzles didn't address just anyone. No, he wasn't talking to SMG4, he wasn't talking to Luke, Marty, or SMG3; he was talking DIRECTLY to us the *Audience* at the 4th wall!
Adware KNOWS that we're finally picking up the hints and pieces!! He finally acknowledged that we're ready for our turn!!
When the first movie came out and he appeared as that keyboard malware virus (when we dubbed him Adware), we didn't think much of it. We thought it was a one-off, a fluke, something to further the story via typical SMG4 Weirdness.
It wasn't until the Western Spaghetti movie hype was building up that everyone realized that there's a pattern happening. That was when fans started pointing out, "Hey! There's something Fishy going on (Ha), and here's the hidden clues to prove it!!". We became suspicious of that damn symbol, and became more vigilant... and then WotFI happened!!
(Addition: I feel like Adware was beginning to test how ready we were when we got that one Steam Link with Tari in an empty room and the TV at the front of the train. Yeah, it was to hype up the movie, but it was also almost like a... puzzle, you could say)
Which could explain why this time it isn't a movie event that lasts for one week, but instead nearly over an entire month! I theorize that Winston wants to test us for some reason, and for that, he needs to collect information. Information like maybe a certain interactive website with reviews. You can't get the audience involved with just a single movie, just saying. Plus, the fact that he said endless entertainment all Saturdays forever? Who's the most involved in that specific detail, hmm?
Also! The theme! Granted, I don't have much proof for this one, but the theme I've noticed is Nostalgia. Blue's Clues isn't something very important to any of the characters that got kidnapped (minus 4 hating content farms) but it can be something that a lot of us have a fond attachment to! Which Adware could use to his Advantage! What better way to get good reviews than to target what the audiences like?
(4th wall sidenote, after that TV song jingle, Winston glances over to the screen directly at Us)
Also, notice how weird it is that the Crew Members that got kidnapped are popular among the fandom? You know, characters that we've gotten attached to? (Don't tell me Bob doesn't have a fanbase of his own). Every time a "Victim" is targeted, their close friends end up getting dragged into the mess.
SMG4 (3, Megs and Mar)
Meggy (Tari, Mario, Axol, DESTI)
SMG3 (Eggdog got a Cameo, 4, Bob??)
Us (Our favorite characters)
....
So, all of this to say, we need to stay on our toes, especially for this chapter. Be wary and all of that. I may be overthrowing it, but hey, theorizing is fun!! What do you guys think?
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maygranted · 1 year
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I saw your post about Buck being OCD-coded! Can you please say more?? I’ve always read him as being ADHD-coded and I’d love to hear more!
omg ofc i’d love to! i do apologise for how long this post is going to be 😭
so to start off, this all began bc my friend (who has adhd) really related to buck and i (who has ocd) also really related to him so we were like hmm wait a second… adhd AND ocd???
anyway i think one part of him that’s just v ocd coded to me (but also definitely is in combination with rsd from his adhd) is how he tends to catastrophise situations. like he has such severe abandonment issues to the point where he actively obsesses over it, here’s an example !!!
BUCK: Starts out small. Uh, she's-she's canceling plans. She's got to work. She needs to wash her hair or do her laundry, and before you know it, poof. Dropping them off at the airport and never seeing them again.
HEN: Okay, Buck, you're being a little too Buck about this.
like it’s just a very irrational line of thought and u can see how hen says oh you’re being a little too buck abt this bc it’s common for him to exaggerate situations he obsesses over in his mind. and then in turn to alleviate this anxiety somehow he begins to cling bc all his irrational thoughts are telling him that people will leave
and then ofc there’s the situation where after chimney’s left he feels so heavily responsible for it (responsibility ocd ) to the point where he says he’ll leave the 118. like that’s such an irrational line of thought that his mind has catastrophised from obsessing over it.
and then also the tsunami episodes <3 like ofc he feels responsible for chris it’s a normal response but the way he actively obsesses over losing chris and that that makes him a terrible person and he has such severe guilt over it is just v moral ocd and responsibility ocd to me? so he searches for chris to the point where he’s severely dehydrated and bleeding and he still doesn’t stop that’s just a v obsessive thing to me does that make sense??
here’s an explanation of hyper-responsibility related to ocd, which btw sounds very buck coded to me:
But what happens when someone overestimates their responsibility? What happens when someone feels that they can control things that they cannot actually control? These feelings might even seep into relationships—feeling like they can control how someone else feels, or feeling that they are responsible for making everyone happy or content. This can create people-pleasing patterns and make them constantly feel the need to put others’ needs in front of their own. This can look like saying yes to things they do not want to do but feel they need to do, lest someone get upset with them. Or, they may think, “If I don’t do this, then something bad might happen.” […]
Anxiety and guilt are often at the root of an inflated sense of responsibility. The person with OCD thinks of all the possible repercussions of not acting in a particular scenario. They feel guilty for possible negative outcomes, often engaging in magical thinking—believing that their ideas, thoughts, actions, or other things can impact the world around them. This results in compulsions, which can take on many different forms; for some, it may involve very detailed rituals they feel they must perform to prevent something very specific from occurring. For others, it may be a vague need to do something “just in case” or to feel like everyone will be safe.
and then ofc there’s my gifset where he’s developed a compulsion bc he’s scared he’s still in a coma so he has a list of things he checks </3
anyway i feel like a huge part of this is definitely also projecting bc i personally struggle with moral ocd and responsibility ocd and a lot of guilt bc of that but it’s just something i’ve noticed a lot with buck, how his mind is constantly jumping to the worst, most irrational conclusion (and irrationality IS a huge part of intrusive thoughts) and so in turn he either feels the need to fix it (bc it’s HIS responsibility in his mind!) by distancing himself bc he’s the problem or clinging. trying to fix something that isn’t even a problem that needs fixing or isn’t even ur responsibility to fix is just a very ocd coded thing to me <3 and i think a lot of this is definitely more related to mental compulsions which a lot of people don’t really know abt and instead assume ocd is just the stereotypical compulsions (washing hands, organising etc which ARE ofc things that happen but it’s not just that!) so he v much falls into that “irrational thought / obsession” —> anxiety, uncertainty, guilt —> compulsion (trying to fix shit, apologising, reassurance) cycle u see with ocd.
i hope this made sense somehow and ty for asking, as u can see i love talking abt this :)) also it’s absolutely ok to disagree with me on this, it’s just something i personally noticed and really identified with due to my own ocd, i just hope i did a good job of explaining it!
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a-cosmic-elf · 4 months
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Oooo- ask game! For the Fanfiction Writing Ask:
55! 62 (for ME: Absolution)! And 75 (for research purposes).
Hi, @tafferling ! Thank you for sending me this; it really had me thinking! I’ll put it under a cut because it’s going to be pretty long, lol
55. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics?  Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?
No, I don’t think so. Unless rare pairs and OCs can be considered a theme.
I seem to like starting my stories with a line of dialogue, sometimes from canon. I enjoy doing that, and I don’t care if it’s considered ‘meh’ in writing circles. This is fanfic. Readers will recognise it, and I get a kick out of making an immediate connection that, in turn sets the scene.
62. In Absolution, is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included?  Why did it get cut?
No, I think everything in the main story is still there. It’s just evolved over time.
I do have Emrys’s origin story, everything leading up to that point where he reaches self-awareness, mostly written. I plan to release it as an epilogue since it’s ridiculously spoilerific and in a slightly darker (currently nsfw) tone. It’s a tragic love story.
Emrys eludes to it when questioned by Yin:
"I've been meaning to ask you, how did they do it? How did the turians build a ship powered by a mass relay? It's hard to get my head around."
"Hmm." Emrys seemed to think on the question for a while before responding, "Several project leads were overseeing their respective areas on the design and construction. One of them was a brilliant young scientist. He had been a child prodigy, in fact, thought to be a genius. By the time he reached adulthood, he had unlocked secrets of mass effect technology that others before him, and since, have only dreamt of. His level of understanding, skills and knowledge were unprecedented. He was indeed ahead of his time."
Yin was transfixed, "what happened to him?" he asked.
"Oh, it's not an unusual story. At the apex of his career, he fell in love. It got him into all kinds of trouble. He was never the same after that." Emrys said, staring forward as if he knew what that was like.
And if you put that together with the following from the infamous chapter 13:
</Personnel Record: Shyyla Cirian
/Rank: Doctor [SPECIAL ORDER] sibling of Primarch Jasris Cirian.  
/Assignment: Head of AI development
/Current location: THS Absolution, deck 15, section 001
/Status: DECEASED.
 
/end of report.>
You know a love story between a young and gifted engineer and the head of AI development (the Primarch’s sister, no less, who’s caught the eye of the evil General) will be heart-wrenching. But the best origin stories are usually tragic. And I like dark tales with romance.
75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?
I’m glad that you asked this one. There’s always that one fic, right? The one that you spat out in an afternoon but stands head and shoulders above the rest, not by comments or kudos, but by hits because nobody comments on porn.
I mean seriously, it’s trash! I’d delete it, but the stats don’t lie, lol
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Thank you again for such a lovely ask and for supporting my oc brain rot. It truly means the world to me. 🙏🏼💕🥰
Fic writing asks
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the-writer1988 · 10 months
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I bring questions for the ask game... just a few:
4, 7, 10, 12, 16, 20, 26, 39, 42, 43, 76 (for BTK)
Just a few....
Thank you so much for the ask!
4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?
I find inspiration from watching new things, or reading theories or posts and it makes my brain go into overdrive. For example, my latest fic idea was partially inspired by the 'Splitting Heirs' fanfic by @phantoms-lair and @providentially-demonic
7. How do you choose which POV to write from?
It really depends on the scene. I do tend to veer towards Eugene's POV in my Tangled fanfiction because most of my fics revolve around him. But it does also depend on the scene and whether that POV fits. I tend to think about what I want from the scene before I start writing.
10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up
Blinking, Eugene was slow to respond. “Uh… no problem, Your Majesty. Turnabout is fair play, I guess.”
I'm not going to say which WIP this is XD
12. How does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?
Feedback is important to me. Though I do write for myself, I have always liked to receive feedback as it helps to keep my motivated, especially for very long projects. In my younger years, I did find it difficult to continue writing fics where I did not get much feedback or support but I am a lot more chill about it nowadays. It will always make me smile when a new comment is left.
16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?
Too many lol!
Erm, ok, so one, is called: The Lost Prince. This fic follows the premise of Gothel kidnapping Eugene and raising him in the Tower instead. It is a twist of Tangled.
20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?
A common theme that does appear in my fic is whump. Hurt of my favourite characters. And the comfort that follows. Poor Eugene gets too much attention from me.
Or from other fandoms: Tony Stark, Sirius Black, Aragorn, and Obi-Wan Kenobi over the years I've been writing fanfiction.
26. Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?
Hmm, I think my wildest ride one would have to be what I am currently writing: Between the Kisses. Though we have a rough guide to what we want to cover, it has evolved and developed and is coming out very different to what we had originally intended when @tangledbea and I first embarked on this mega project. I am enjoying every minute of it!
39. Share a snippet from a WIP
From The Lost Prince AU
The King had nearly lost his wife in childbirth and had - somehow - used the power within the Dark Kingdom to save her. It was rumoured that the newborn Prince had been born with striking cyan hair and eyes which had faded naturally to brown. 
If the baby Prince had somehow absorbed this power perhaps this was how Gothel could bring it to the Sundrop to amplify its power? 
42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?
Return to Me by ArcticPersephone. And, YES, I recommend it! It is a rewrite of S3 with one big change and I am honestly astounded by this fic. The character development and the plot always leaves me guessing and I would recommend this fic. It has everything for everyone, no matter who your favourite character is!
Return to Me - Chapter 1 - ArcticPersephone - Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon) [Archive of Our Own]
43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?
Erm. I would probably say yes in that I do take joy in whumping my characters but I enjoy the comfort that comes after as well.
76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of BTK?
That is a rather difficult question to answer. At present there is potentially future scenes that were conceived of at the start of the project that won't make it in as plans have changed. But I can't think of anything specific that hasn't made it into the current chapters posted so far. :)
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35, 55 & 74 for fanfic writer asks? <3
Hey Bri! Thank you for the ask <3
35. What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?
Ooh, I think I have to say all of my Litanies series. It's my biggest project and I'm very happy with the end result (well, not necessarily the end yet ...) Right now I'm especially pleased with the newest part because it's new and cozy and summery and I really enjoyed the process of writing it.
55. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?
Yep, definitely, a lot. I know I have to keep an eye out for the gestures and facial expressions I use as action beats because those can get repetitive. And lets not count how many chapters start with the POV character waking up…
I like metaphors and colorful imagery, and I find religious themes especially interesting (guilt, sin, sex, shame -- so juicy for writing).
With Litanies I noticed a pattern of using parentheses for quick mini-flashbacks or reflections and that I've consciously developed as sort of a trademark style for that series in particular.
74. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?
Hmm, maybe my fic for the Stucky gift exchange last Halloween, Don't let the past haunt you, my dear. I was pleased with my work on that one and the cozy fall vibes but I think it got a bit lost in the flood of great content for the event.
(Ask me fanfic writing questions)
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joanna-lannister · 13 days
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15, 20, 31, 71
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK NONNIE ❤️✨ *And sorry for the late reply*
15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?
*pulls my hair, I love smut, but writing it is such a struggle* Well, it depends on the fic, I think, but I recently noticed I almost always start the same way: with Jaime going down on Cersei. (He loves it okay.) And then, spoiler alert, they have P in V sex lmao which ends up with them cuddling. It’s very much the same pattern each time. I do think I can get very detailed, but not in a graphic way? I try to be as poetic as I can be, and I banished the word “cum” from my vocabulary (I hate this word). As for how important it is to be realistic, I think it’s up to the writer. I prefer it to be as accurate as possible, even if it ends up looking the same each time, but some writers love to go wild, and good for them.
20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?
Oh yes, I have expressions that appear a lot, such as “a smile bloomed on her face” or “a laugh escaped her”. I wish I was a better writer to try to be more creative when it comes to those expressions but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ And I do have themes that show up a lot, such as pregnancy and childbirth, motherhood and a tiny bit of fatherhood. Also, as I said above, everytime I write smut, Jaime goes down on Cersei (I’m not sure that’s a theme, but it's a pattern that appears a lot). As for common settings, hmm, I guess I either go very canon or totally modern au, there’s no middle ground.
31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?
With the characters, because honestly: plot, what plot?
71. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?
Uh oh, my narratives aren’t that complex to be honest, so it’s kind of easy to keep track of them. But otherwise, I make a Google doc specific for the outlines and everything. It definitely helped me with “open your eyes”.
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icedflames · 3 years
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The Progression of Elain and Azriel’s Relationship.
Let me preface this by saying this is LONG. 
After a second read through of ACOSF, I really think it’s clear that Elriel will be featured in the next book. Sooo, book by book, I’ve complied excerpts that show the progression of Elain and Azriel’s relationship and why I think the next book will feature them. I’m not going to be adding a lot of commentary, just my general interpretation of the scene. The excerpts speak for themselves. 
A Court of Mist and Fury
Chapter 24 - Elain meets Azriel at the Archeron Estate
"A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent...”
“Elain said, ‘It’s all very disorienting.’ ‘I can imagine,’ Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.”
“Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, ‘Can you truly fly?’ He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, ‘Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.’‘That’s very beautiful,’ she said. ‘Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?’ ‘It is sometimes,’ Azriel said.”
“Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”
At their first meeting, Azriel’s attention was on Elain and she labeled the idea of the Illyrian’s flight as beautiful. Feyre notes how Elain and Azriel are similar and says they are “perhaps the only two civilized ones.” Polite and kind. 
Feyre notes that Elain’s shoulders loosened when Azriel offered her a polite smile and after noticing Azriel relax, she offers a grin. Azriel probably noticed Elain’s discomfort because of her fingers tightly grasping the fork and tried to put her at ease. In return, Elain felt relaxed based on Azriel’s cues even though they had just met. 
Chapter 50 - Feyre distracts Rhys by talking about her sisters
“And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet. I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together. If the warrior ever stopped quietly loving Mor. I doubted it. Azriel would likely love Mor until he was a whisper of darkness between the stars.”
Feyre again notes their similar temperaments - how they are both introverted and would appreciate each other’s company in silence. The second part, about Azriel loving Mor forever, now sticks out given what we know from A Court of Silver Flames. I’ll get to that later. 
A Court of Wings and Ruin
So at this point, Elain and Nesta have been forcibly turned fae against their will. I didn’t include that portion because it’s more relevant to Elain’s self-journey, rather than her relationship with Azriel. 
Chapter 24 - Nesta and Elain move to the townhouse
“Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders. He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door.
Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. ‘Would you like me to show you the garden?’ She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once.
Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, ‘Beautiful.’
Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.”
Elain is traumatized from her experience with the cauldron. She’s withdrawn, she’s quiet, and she’s scared. Azriel carries hers through the front door, rather than just setting her down outside. To make her more comfortable with the house, he offers to show her the garden. Feyre likely made mention of Elain loving flowers so this was a sweet gesture on Azriel’s part. 
Most significantly, Elain (likely) called Azriel’s scarred skin beautiful - his trauma ingrained into his skin and the history of his abuse... She sees it and calls it beautiful. And Azriel blushes. 
“But Lucien’s attention went right to the hallway toward the back, his nostrils flaring as he scented Elain’s direction. And who she’d gone with. A low snarl slipped out of him. ‘Relax,’ Rhys said. ‘Azriel isn’t the ravishing type.’ Lucien cut him a glare.”
Oh Rhys, Azriel definitely is. 
I thought it was interesting. Yes, mates become possessive. But why include that? Why wouldn’t Lucien snarl when Elain was with Rhys or Cassian? Just a thought. 
“Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.”
I really love the juxtaposition of Azriel clad in black, sprawled in the gardens with Elain, so full of light, sitting there with them. It’s unlikely that the morally grey spymaster (who literally tortures people for his profession) and the sweet girl would have struck up a friendship. But there they were, in the garden, enjoying each other’s silent company. Exactly what Feyre predicted in A Court of Mist and Fury (“Elain would probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet”). 
“‘Why not make them mates?’ I mused. ‘Why Lucien?[...]What decides it? Who decides it?[...]You said your mother and father were wrong for each other; Tamlin said his own parents were wrong for each other.’ I peeled off my dressing robe. ‘So it can’t be a perfect system of matching. What if’—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?’
‘A mating bond can be rejected,’ Rhys said mildly, eyes flickering in the mirror as he drank in every inch of bare skin I had on display. ‘There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly sometimes the bond is nothing more than some...preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that.’”
The conversation between her and Rhys is very important. Up until this point, we’re led to believe mates are the end all be all. Mates are soulmates. Now, we have a scene directly suggesting that the mating system is flawed and a mating bond could be broken. And it’s Feyre talking about Elain and Lucien’s bond, using Azriel as an example as who Elain might choose over Lucien. 
At this point, Elain and Azriel’s relationship starts to progress and they slowly start to become acquainted with each other. 
Chapter 27 - Elain has a vision
“‘I saw young hands wither with age. I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.’”
“Mad. Elain might very well have gone mad.”
So here, Elain spouts a vision and Feyre, Nesta, Mor, and Azriel are taken aback. Feyre remarks that her sister may be going mad. They don’t understand what’s going on with Elain and why she is espousing such creepy things. 
“I faced Azriel, exposing my palms to him. ‘What does that mean?’ Azriel’s hazel eyes churned as he studied my sister, her too-thin body. And without a word, he winnowed away. Mor watched the space where he’d been standing long after he was gone.”
Azriel had an expression of concerned and then winnowed away without a word, leaving Mor gaping. Why? Why was she gaping and staring at the spot Azriel had been? Could it be that she sees something Feyre doesn’t?
Chapter 30 - Azriel and Cassian visit Elain and Nesta
“The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink. Both males went a bit still.”
We know that Nesta and Cassian are mates. Cassian stilled at the sight of Nesta. Azriel stilled at the sight of Elain. Hmm.
“I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. ‘Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.’ ‘I can help her,’ said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing from his fingers as he extended a hand.”
Azriel stepped in and said he could help Elain get to the garden. A bit of a pattern. He wants to keep her company, and perhaps, wants to have her company. Even more significant are that his shadows are missing. We know that the shadows disappear around Mor, who he’d been pining over for 500 years. Now they’re gone around Elain. Maybe it’s just to make her more comfortable or maybe it’s because he’s developing an interest in her. 
Chapter 32 - Azriel discovers Elain is a seer
“Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. ‘The queen—with the feathers of flame.’ The shadowsinger angled his head. Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, ‘Should we—does she need …?’”
‘She doesn’t need anything,’ Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly.
‘We’re the ones who need …’ Azriel trailed off. ‘A seer,’ he said, more to himself than us. ‘The Cauldron made you a seer.’”
Azriel, as observant as he is, realized Elain wasn’t going mad. She was a seer.
Lucien thought she was going mad or she was ill. As did Feyre, Mor, Nesta and everybody else in the Night Court. This is mentioned in prior chapters when Lucien suggested to Feyre that Elain see a healer. 
However, Azriel looked at Elain and figured it out. Which is important to Elain. When speaking to Lucien about Grayson, Elain said, “No one ever looked - not really...He did. He saw me. He will not now.” Azriel looked. Azriel saw her. 
Chapter 50 - In the townhouse, winnowing to the Illyrian Camps
“Mor took Nesta and Cassian by the hand, readying to winnow them to the camp, while shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster’s display.”
Azriel’s shadows are gathered around him, likely in response to brewing war and because Feyre just made a deal with Bryaxis. Elain is staring wide-eyed. I don’t interpret this in fear but in awe. 
“Then Azriel, gently taking Elain’s hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.”
The gentleness Azriel exhibits towards Elain is just sweet.
Chapter 62 & 63 - Hyburn kidnaps Elain
“But Azriel asked softly, ‘What about Elain?’ Something cold went through me. Nesta was just staring at Azriel. Staring and staring.”
“From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, ‘I’m getting her back.’
Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows.
Nesta said, ‘Then you will die.’
Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, ‘I’m getting her back.’”
Azriel is the first person to realize Elain is missing! Not Nesta, not Feyre, not Amren. Azriel.
His eyes glowed (an indication of powers at play), with rage in his stare. Azriel is angry, he’s upset, he will get Elain back. Nobody asked Azriel to rescue Elain. Nesta even told him he would die. But Azriel doesn’t care. He’s getting her back. 
This really shows that perhaps their friendship developed further than Feyre realized and Azriel had formed a connection with Elain. A connection strong enough that he would risk dying to get her back.
Chapter 65 - Azriel and Feyre rescue Elain
“My mouth went dry as that scream sounded again. I couldn’t bear it—to let it go on, to see what was being done. Azriel’s shadow-hand grasped my own, tugging me closer. His rage rippled off his invisible form.”
Feyre and Azriel both thought it was Elain screaming in Hyburn’s camp. Rage was rippling off his invisible form. Azriel, stoic, brooding Azriel is so angry because he thinks Elain is being hurt that Feyre remarks on it. 
“Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. ‘Are you hurt?’
She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. ‘You came for me.’ 
The shadowsinger only inclined his head.”
Again, Azriel is so gentle with Elain. 
Elain devoured the sight of him. Elain didn’t believe Azriel would save her. But he did. “You came for me.” 
“The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest.”
“Nesta rounded a tent, skidding to a halt in the mud. She let out a sob at the sight of Elain, still in Azriel’s arms.”
“Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, ‘We need Helion to get these chains off her.’ Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.”
Azriel is wounded but he’s still cradling Elain to his chest. He doesn’t have to but he doesn’t let go. Almost like if he goes, she’ll disappear again. And then Elain kisses his cheek? Too cute. 
Chapter 69 - Truthteller
“Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. ‘This is Truth-Teller,’ he told her softly. ‘I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.’”
Azriel is still injured and was being stubborn in wanting to fight, despite Rhys telling him he couldn’t. Azriel didn’t relent until Mor begged him with tears in her eyes. Since he can’t fight, he’s offering Elain one of his knives... 
“Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. ‘It has never failed me once,’ the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. ‘Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.’ He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. ‘It will serve you well.’”
Again with the gentleness.
“Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade. Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.
Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.
I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.”
So Azriel didn’t offer Elain just any knife. It’s Azriel’s most prized possession to the point where no other person, not even his brothers or Mor, had ever been allowed to touch it. Yet here he was lending it to Elain. His relationship and connection to Elain is strong enough and deep enough that he would give her his beloved dagger.
Here’s where it gets interesting. The lovely fawn standing before death. In ACOMAF chapter 57, the Book of Breathlings said (in pertinent part), “Rot and bloom and bones...Hello, fanged beast and trembling fawn.” I think the choice of words is intentional. Death and a fawn? Hmm.
Further, when Majda described the mating bond to Elain she said, “The mating bond. It is a bridge between souls.” Now Feyre says - the only bridge of connection is Truth-Teller. Why use the words describing a mating bond to describe that moment?
Chapter 74 - Elain Kills Hyburn
“Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, ‘Don’t you touch my sister.’”
Elain, using Azriel’s dagger, stabbed Hyburn in the neck. The trembling fawn snarled in the king’s ear and killed him to protect Nesta. 
Stepping out the shadow seems like a significant parallel. In Chapter 62, “Azriel stepped out of a shadow.” Azriel’s symbol is the shadow. Elain stepped from a shadow, Azriel’s symbol, and exhibited a display of strength, despite being traumatized for most of the book...
A Court of Frost and Starlight
Chapter 2 - Rhysand thinks about the War
“Cassian was near death and Nesta was sprawled over him, shielding him from that killing blow, and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.”
Elain, of all people, killed Hyburn with Azriel’s dagger and that imagine is important enough for Rhysand to think of it again. 
Chapter 4 - Feyre asks Mor about Truth-Teller when gift shopping
“‘You honestly think he’d ever give up Truth-Teller?’
‘He gave it to Elain,’ Mor said, admiring a moonstone necklace in the counter’s glass case. 
‘She gave it back,’ I amended, failing to block out the image of the black blade piercing through the King of Hybern’s throat. But Elain had given it back—had pressed it into Azriel’s hands after the battle, just as he had pressed it into hers before. And then walked away without looking back.”
Just as Azriel had pressed the knife into Elain’s hand, Elain pressed it into his when she finished. Gently. 
Chapter 7 - Rhys and Azriel discuss gifts
“‘Az ran a hand through his dark hair. ‘Are we …’ Unusual for him to stumble with words. ‘Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?’ 
‘No,’ I said, and meant it. Az seemed to loose a sigh of relief. Seemed to, since all but a breath of air passed from his lips”
Interesting how Azriel is stumbling over his words when he asks if he needs to get Elain (and Nesta) a gift. What could be making him so nervous to give her a gift? A crush, maybe?
Chapter 12 - The Inner Circle has a Family Dinner
“Elain’s voice was colder than usual. I glanced at Nuala and Cerridwen, the latter giving me a shake of her head as if to say, Not a good day for her.”
Elain has befriended Azriel’s spies to the point where they tell Feyre, Elain’s sister, that it’s not a good day. 
“‘Don’t,’ Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows.”
Interesting choice of words. 
“Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.”
Handsome Azriel walks in and Elain goes still. Her throat bobs. Elain is totally crushing on Azriel.
“But I strode to my seat—nestled between Amren and Mor—in time to see Elain say to Azriel, ‘Hello.’ Az said nothing. No, he just moved toward her. Mor tensed beside me.”
Why would Mor tense up (again)? 
“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ‘Sit. I’ll take care of it.’ Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ‘I—I’ll be right back,’ she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.”
Elain was so shocked that she kept her hands up and then ran off to make herself look presentable. She has it bad.
“One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. ‘Wait,’ Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice. Mor gaped wide enough that I was certain the half-chewed green beans in her mouth were going to tumble onto her plate.”
“Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.” 
Azriel telling Cassian to wait for Elain to come back before they started eating. How sweet! And again, Mor tenses, gapes, etc. because of Azriel and Elain. Why does she keep doing that? Is it because Azriel is maybe moving on? Is she jealous? Or is it something else? 
“Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. ‘Please don’t wait on my account,’ she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.”
She got all fixed up. Aweee.
“‘I’d feel bad for the mice,’ Azriel muttered. Mor and Cassian howled, earning a blush from Azriel and a grateful smile from Elain—and no shortage of scowling from Amren. But something in me eased at that laughter, at the light that returned to Elain’s eyes.”
After Amren bluntly told Elain that there was no going back to being human and Elain was visibly upset, Azriel told a joke to lighten the mood. Elain shot a grateful smile and Feyre’s was so happy to see a light return to her sister’s eyes.
Chapter 16 - Rhys speaks to Cassian and Azriel
“Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below.”
Who could be in the garden Azriel? 
Chapter 18 - Feyre and Elain talk about Lucien
“‘He brought you a present.’
Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them. ‘And that entitles him to my time, my affections?’
‘No.’ I blinked. ‘But he is a good male.’ Despite our harsh words. Despite this Band of Exiles bullshit. ‘He cares for you.’
‘He doesn’t know me.’
‘You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.’ 
Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. ‘I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.’
Elain is mad. She doesn’t want a mate or a male. Yet some bond is forcing him on her. She doesn’t want Lucien. A gift isn’t enough to win her over. 
More importantly - he doesn’t know her. 
Chapter 19 - Winter Solstice 
“I made to move toward [Elain], but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly.”
Azriel immediately made a move towards Elain to wish her a happy solstice. Again with the gentleness. 
“Watching Cassian especially, now standing with Az at the fire. He was the portrait of relaxed, an arm braced against the carved mantel, his wings tucked in loosely, a faint grin on his face and a glass of wine in his hand. He slid his hazel eyes toward my sister without him moving an inch.”
Azriel stealing glances at Elain.
“‘Oh, that’s from me.’
Azriel’s face didn’t so much as shift at the words. Not even a smile as he opened the present and revealed -
‘I had Madja make it for me,’ Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. ‘It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.’
Silence.
Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. ‘It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.’
Silence again.
Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous.”
Elain give Azriel a sweet, thoughtful, and funny gift that made Azriel laugh so deep and joyously. That rarely happens with him.
“Azriel mastered himself enough to say, ‘Thank you.’ I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. ‘This will be invaluable.’”
Feyre had never seen Azriel’s eyes so bright. Ahhhh. 
They’re most definitely friends by this point, with the other chapters hinting that the two are crushing on each other. 
Chapter 22 - After the gift giving
“Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.”
Elain and Azriel stay behind, late at night talking about gardening. Even if it’s not of interest to Azriel, he wanted to be with her. So sweet! 
A Court of Silver Flames
Chapter 3 - Cassian tells Nesta that Azriel will be staying with them 
“Cassian said tightly, ‘He says he’d rather stay up here than at the river house.’ That made two of them. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. He’s Az. He likes his space.’”
Alright so let me start by saying Cassian isn’t as observant. And the readers have more insight. Who stays at the river house? Elain. Why would he want to stay at the house of wind? To avoid her. Why would he want to avoid Elain? Probably because he’s developing feelings for her. 
Chapter 19 - Cassian tells Azriel about Elain and Nesta’s fight
“‘Because of the shit with Elain?’
Azriel stilled. ‘What happened to Elain?’
Azriel stilled at the thought of something happening to Elain. Honestly, enough said. 
Chapter 21 - Nesta insults Elain
“‘Maybe you’ll become interesting at last, Elain.’
Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.”
Azriel’s shadows were prepared to attack in defense of Elain. Sounds like somebody has feelings for Elain...
Chapter 22 - Azriel and Cassian discuss having children
“Cassian looked over at Az. ‘You think you’ll ever be ready for one?’ Ever be ready to confess to Mor what’s in your heart?
‘I don’t know,’ Azriel said.
‘Do you want a child?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I want.’ Distant words—ones that prevented Cassian from prying further.”
So Cassian still thinks Azriel is head over heels in love with Mor. And Azriel responds with distant words, saying it doesn’t matter what he wants. Could what he wants be Elain? The seer whose mate happens to be the son of a high lord? 
He could understandably be hurt over that. 
“He was still happy to be Mor’s buffer with Azriel, but there’d been a change lately. In both of them. Mor no longer sat beside Cassian, draped herself over him, and Azriel … those longing glances toward her had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up. Cassian couldn’t think why.”
Azriel rarely looks at Mor. There’s been a change. And Cassian has no idea why, after 500 years, Azriel has finally given up. 
Elain. Elain is the reason. 
Chapter 29 - Amren suggests Elain should look for the trove
“Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, ‘There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.’”
Azriel doesn’t want Elain to be exposed to that darkness. He’s acting protective over her. Like he really cares for her. 
Chapter 30 - Azriel and Cassian discuss Feyre’s pregnancy
“‘No. But we need to summon Lucien,’ Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit.”
Why wouldn’t Azriel want to summon Lucien? Perhaps he doesn’t want anything to develop between Lucien and his mate, Elain? 
He’s jealous. 
Chapter 44 - Elain tells the story of how Nesta stole a Duke’s heart
“‘She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two,’ she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from.”
Elain is shy around Azriel, and quickly looks away from his smile. Sounds like a crush. 
Chapter 58 - Winter Solstice 
“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.”
Elain is stealthy, quiet. So much so that Nesta remarks that Azriel or his spies himself may be giving her lessons.
“Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it.
‘I was just checking on dessert,’ Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past...”
Azriel heard Elain’s laugh and wanted to see what caused it. 
They looked at each other and Elain’s breath caught - something charged in that gaze. It’s obvious now that the two have developed feelings for one another. 
“‘Why don’t you sit?’ [Nesta] leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. ‘My shadows don’t like the flames so much.’ A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer.
‘Why did you come if it torments you so much?’
‘Because Rhys wants me here. It’d hurt him if I didn’t come.’”
“Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire.
His secret to tell, never hers.”
Elain and Lucien are by the fire. Nesta quickly picks up on the fact that it torments Azriel to see it. She understands why. She sees the pain in his eyes. Azriel is likely in love or close to in love with Elain and seeing her with a mate pains him. Knowing that he’s not her mate pains him. 
Chapter 59 - Post Solstice 
“He’d been replaced in training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn’t even give her a smile.”
What happened to put Azriel in such a bad mood? 
Azriel Bonus Chapter
This is where Elain and Azriel’s feelings towards each other are confirmed.
This occurs on Winter Solstice - which explains why Azriel acted the way he did and why he “more aloof than usual.”
I’m not going to go into the Gwyn part of the chapter because, in my opinion, it’s not relevant to Azriel and Elain’s relationship. 
“Too many razor-sharp thoughts sliced him any time he grew still long enough for them to strike. Too many wants and needs left his skin overheated and pulling taut across his bones.”
Azriel isn’t sleeping because of his desires...
“He was elated for his brother and yet... Azriel couldn’t stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.”
Azriel is jealous of Cassian and Rhys. Of their mating bonds and their connections. 
“The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. 
She halted, her breath catching in her throat. ‘I...’ He watched her swallow. She clutched a small gift in her hands. "I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to give it to you earlier.
Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn’t need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face.”
Elain’s breath catches when she spots Azriel. 
Azriel knows Elain well enough that he can tell when she’s lying.
“Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. ‘Here.’
Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn't bought her mate a present. 
But she'd gotten Azriel one last year-a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he’d slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.”
Elain is so nervous to give Azriel his gift! 
Azriel looked at the gift she gave him last year every night... They both have it bad for each other. 
I won’t bother to quote it, but Elain gifts Azriel another thoughtful gift - ear plugs to drown out Cassian and Nesta. 
“He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much.”
This is what Nesta observed and understood. Azriel was so tormented by Elain having a mate that he couldn’t go near her. 
“Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.”
Understanding between the two of them. Like she knew he liked her but they wouldn’t act on it. Why though?
“Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.”
Azriel’s shadows always vanished around Mor, the woman he loved for 500 years. Now they do the same around Elain. 
“His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.
“He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp.”
This confirms that there is sexual attraction and romantic feelings between the Elain and Azriel. She shivered. He savored the texture of her skin. 
18+ below!!!
“It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. Wrong - it was so wrong. He didn't care.
He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue.
Azriel's cock strained behind his pants, aching so fiercely he could hardly think. He prayed she didn't peer down. Prayed she didn't under stand the shift in his scent.”
Azriel is so turned on. He needs Elain. Yet, the touching is wrong to him. Wrong because perhaps he doesn’t feel like he’s enough for her. 
“He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make.”
Azriel thinks of Elain at night and pleasures himself to him. 
“‘I should go,’ Elain said, but made no move to leave. ‘Yes,’ he said, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat. Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He’d beg on his knees for a chance to taste it.”
Eyes rolling, beg on his knees... Sounds a lot like how Rhys and Cassian react to Feyre and Nesta. 
“So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond his scars. Such terrible things that it was sacrilege for his fingers to touch her skin, tainting her with his presence.”
That’s why he keeps making self-deprecating comments - he doesn’t feel worthy that somebody like him (a man who tortures for his job) would touch her.
“Azriel’s hand slip up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.”
Elain and Azriel are about to kiss! That is, until Rhysand commands him to stop. 
“His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, ‘This was a mistake.’ She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘You don't- don't apologize, he managed to say. ‘Never apologize. It's I who should...’ He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness he’d brought to her expression. ‘Goodnight.’”
So Rhysand stops the almost kiss and now Elain feels rejected. Azriel is devastated for having to stop and see the hurt he inflicted. 
“Rhys's power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. ‘I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,’ he snarled. ‘Including her mate.’
Rhys is angry in this scene that Azriel may risk starting a feud between courts - the autumn court where Lucien is from (yes, Helion is his father but as of now, Beron believes himself to be Lucien’s father). 
“‘What if the Cauldron was wrong?...The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it’s possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters yet the third was given to another.’ He had never before dared speak the words aloud.
Azriel questions the Cauldron. Why were my brothers chosen? Why wasn’t I chosen? Why am I never chosen? Why can’t I just be with the person I want to be with? 
Azriel isn’t saying he deserves her or not. He’s questioning fate. 
He’s upset. He’s angry. He’s lonely. He’s heartbroken. 
“Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. Rhys growled, ‘Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.’
‘You can't order me to do that.’”
Azriel doesn’t want to listen to Rhysand. Azriel made his feelings clear - he can’t be ordered to stay away from Elain because of his feelings for her. 
Then, Rhys again mentions the Blood Duel. That Lucien could invoke it should Elain and Azriel pursue something. 
“Rhys bared his teeth. ‘So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure hall and pay for it, but stay away from her.’”
Azriel snarled softly.
His snarl indicates there is way more than just lust between Elain and Azriel. 
So that’s it. 
Azriel and Elain went from acquaintances, to friends, to crushes, to almost lovers and the bonus point of view makes it clear that they have both romantic and sexual feelings towards each other. 
It set up the theme for the next book - a forbidden love story where Elain and Azriel must overcome fate itself to be with each other. 
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lollipop, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: You and your boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, were supposed to have a nice movie date, but somehow get sidetracked once you whip out that strawberry-flavored lollipop. Who would have guessed?
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, public sex in a movie theater tsk tsk, palming, fingering, edging, no one finishes, welp); fluff; non-idol!BTS; cute but dirty XD inspired by candy - BAEKHYUN this is for @gowayyeonjun, you know why :)
--
“Where’d you get that?”
“Get what?”
Your boyfriend narrowed his eyes at you and pointed to your mouth. “That.”
Your lips curved into a slow smile. Pink tongue sliding out, curling around the hard confection. Your fingers spun the thin white stick slowly, pulling it out of your mouth. Jeon Jungkook’s dark brown eyes followed the movement, becoming darker with every soft flick of your tongue, pressing the tip against the lollipop and smearing sticky sweetness all over your taste buds.
“Got it when I went to the dentist.”
Jungkook pursed his lips, disbelieving. “They give out candy to adults?”
The strawberry flavor invaded your mouth. “I asked for it.”
“Share.”
You raised an eyebrow. “No.”
Jungkook puffed his cheeks. He held up the things in his hands. “Then I guess you don’t want any jellies, chocolates, or pop rocks, do you?”
You opened your mouth wider and placed the lollipop on the middle of your tongue, swiping it up and down, up and down, slow, sugary, sticky, turning your tongue red with the hard candy. Jungkook bit his lip, breathing becoming shallow, his grip on the bags of sweets tightening.
“Stop it,” he chided.
“Then share your candy with me.”
You rolled the strawberry lollipop in your mouth, coating it with saliva. He nearly moaned.
“Stop… We’re in the movie theater...” Jungkook breathed, leaning over the armrest.
You lowered your lashes, closing your lips slightly, popping the confection into your mouth. Out of your mouth. Soft, gentle pops, in, out, in, out. You could hear patrons settling into their seats, but you two were in the back. If anyone turned around though, they would definitely notice Jungkook closing in on you, panting needily, his gray hoodie spilling over the armrest, dumping the bags of candy he had brought earlier into your lap.
“Please…”
Jungkook leaned in to kiss you and you shoved the lollipop between his lips. He grimaced, frowning as you smiled pleasantly, smearing it over his lips and coating them.
“Oh no,” you purred. “You got something on your face.”
And then you pulled the lollipop away, pressing your lips to his, licking off the candied syrup, Jungkook moaning in your mouth, grabbing your face and kissing you greedily, tangling his tongue with your strawberry-flavored one, breath hot against your skin. You snickered, licking his lips one more time before backing away. Jungkook whimpered, chewing on his lip as he opened his eyes slowly, dark eyes cloudy with lust.
“… L-Let’s leave.”
You popped the lollipop back in your mouth and collected the bags of candy in your lap. “Why? Movie’s going to start soon.”
Jungkook thinned his mouth into a line and pushed the armrest between you two up, scooting closer to you. He grabbed your hand and put it on the crotch of his black jeans.
“This is why.”
You shifted the lollipop in your mouth from side to side. You knew Jungkook was watching your lips, growling as he placed his chin on your shoulder. You rubbed your palm against his growing hardness.
“Hmm, but I have jellies to eat.”
“Come on…”
The lights around you dimmed and the previews began to start. You slipped your fingers under the hem of his hoodie and Jungkook yelped sharply as you drummed his hot skin with your cool touch. You turned your head and frowned at him.
“Hey! Be quiet.”
Someone shushed you two from a few rows below.
“Yeah, Jungkook,” you whispered, dancing your fingers up and down his abs. “Be quiet.”
Jungkook buried his face in your white fleecy jacket, moaning softly as your nails traced patterns on his stomach. “Stop…”
Your hand slid down, outlining the bulge in his pants. “You sure you want me to stop?” you murmured teasingly, slipping your fingertip under the zipper flap, brushing against the metal.
He pressed his lips on your earlobe, gasping. “N-No…” You heard him swallow hard, pressing his hips back into the plushy red seat as you played with the button of his jeans. “But someone will see… Or hear me…”
Ah, but you knew your boyfriend well. His hands were wrapped around your upper arm, holding tight, needy pants in your ear, egging you on. You slowly teased the metal button out of the hole. He shuddered as it came free.
“No one’s going to see. We’re in the back.”
You reached up and plucked the lollipop from your mouth. Turned slightly to see Jungkook’s head leaned against you, long black hair spilling over your shoulder, eyes glazed over, mouth open, lips glossy and pink.
“Here you go, love,” you cooed, sliding the strawberry lollipop into his mouth. His lips closed around it, whimpering quietly in his throat. “Be quiet now.”
The movie was starting, but neither of you noticed.
The zipper was going down, accompanied by dramatic music from the opening scene, but your eyes were on Jungkook and his handsome face, the dim light casting shadows all over his sharp features, lollipop stick poking out of his mouth. He sucked in a breath as you palmed him through his underwear, feeling him swell at your touch. He mumbled your name around the hand candy.
“Hm?”
“Go under.”
“What do I get?” you breathed, teasing him by hooking a finger over the waistband of his boxer briefs and caressing his warm skin.
Jungkook reached over and fumbled for the zipper of your fleece jacket, stopping as the sound of the movie stilled, then continued as it got loud again with dialogue and action, lowering it halfway and slipping his hand under the coat.
“Did you wear that dress I like?” he murmured.
“Find out.”
His lips curled into a pleased grin as he touched the satin fabric of his favorite dress of yours, the plum wrap dress with the deep neckline. Jungkook liked this dress for many reasons. One, cleavage. Two, easy access. Three, because you looked fucking hot in it.
And four.
He gasped as his fingers brushed against the hardened nub.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” Jungkook breathed, nearly dropping the lollipop.
“Mmm, I wasn’t going to take off my coat anyway.”
Your hand sat on top of his cock, only the thin fabric of the underwear between you and his stiff length. You stroked him with your fingertips as he played with your nipples, rubbing his hands all over, sucking on the lollipop, trying not to moan. Good thing this was an action movie, because there was a lot of loud gunfire masking the tight squeak that escaped Jungkook’s lips as you wrapped your fingers around his clothed bulge and began to roll your palm into his hardness.
“A-ah, don’t…”
“I can zip you back up,” you purred, but he pinched your nipple. You had to bite back your own moan.
“I m-meant, don’t stop…”
He pressed his fingertip on your nipple and rubbed it in slow circles. You leaned back in your seat, bags of sweets sliding in your lap, temporarily forgotten as you rubbed his length, right there in the back of the movie theater, both of you staring into each other’s eyes, the lollipop stick trapped in Jungkook’s pretty pink lips. He reached in your coat with his other hand, both hands now gently cupping your breasts and pushing your nipples around with his thumbs. You could feel a wet spot beginning to grow at the front of his boxer briefs, pre-cum soaking the fabric.
“U-Use your nails… run them over the head…”
Your nails trailed down, gently scraping at the tip of his cock through the thin fabric. His hips quivered; thin, slight whimpers trapped in his throat. The wet spot was getting bigger and bigger, and you switched between your nails and rubbing his pre-cum in slow circles on the head.
Jungkook was losing his mind under you.
You leaned over and nudged his chin with your nose, kissing his neck, moving your chest closer to him so he could get a better grip and give you the pleasure you wanted. The sweets slid to the side, trapped between your bag and your thigh. You lapped at the space right between his collarbones, Jungkook gasping lightly, squeezing your breasts. Placed your lips on that spot and sucked hard, him trembling under you as he silenced his moan.
“Feeling good?”
You had left him a nice hickey.
“Mm-hmm…”
You heard the movie sounds quiet down, slowing to a more serious point in the story. Your hand matched the pace, gradually stopping, your palm blanketing the wet spot and pressing down in the head. And Jungkook couldn’t say anything, breathing hard against your hair, trying to hump your hand without making his chair squeak, but it was impossible. You simply waited, not reacting to his insistent tugs of your nipples. Unlike him, you could control yourself pretty well if you wanted to.
That fact annoyed Jungkook to no end.
You were pretty sure there was some deep character development going on, and you were also pretty sure Jungkook did not give a fucking shit about this character’s sad arc. He was probably glaring daggers at the movie screen. You took the chance to slip a finger in the opening that was always in men’s underwear. Honestly, what was that for anyway? It baffled you, but in times like these, it was useful.
You stroked a line down his pulsing cock.
You heard a crack as the strawberry lollipop snapped in half from the force of Jungkook’s teeth grinding down.
You had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. Jungkook was becoming increasingly frustrated, gripping your tits tightly, completely forgetting that he had been in the middle of teasing you. Your finger lowered, spreading the pre-cum over the head and onto the slit. Crack, crack, crack. The lollipop was being crushed to powder by his teeth, barely audible behind his closed lips, but you could hear it because you were right at his throat, pressing your lips against his neck.
The whines in his chest were almost silent, vibrating your lips as you glided over his hot skin, blood pumping through his veins.
Deep dramatic music. It was certainly dramatic in Jungkook’s pants right now as you placed two fingers around the sides of his cock and slid them up and down his length. His hands dropped, urgently searching for the lower flap of your dress and gliding under the smooth fabric, finding the lace of your panties.
You pulled back a little as the action started up again, both on screen and in between your thighs, his long fingers stroking your slit, your juices soaking through. You could smell the strawberry scent from Jungkook’s lips, see his hooded eyes staring down at you as you rubbed him through his underwear again, matching his pace on your pussy.
“Want you so bad,” he whispered, holding the lollipop stick with his teeth.
You smirked.
There was a loud explosion. Some people in the audience below gasped.
You whipped Jungkook’s cock out of his underwear.
His eyes widened, dropping the lollipop stick and you caught it, tsking softly. Some high action tension was happening on the screen as you shoved the stick into the cupholder. Jungkook always put napkins in there before every movie. He liked being clean.
You were the dirty one.
Well, maybe naughty was a better word.
You pumped him, shielding his cock with your fleece coat, his finger fishing for your clit as he clenched his jaw, pressing his head back into the seat. You smiled as he found it, rubbing fast and hard. A tense showdown happening behind you, the hero skirting around in the night as you furiously jacked Jungkook off with his finger on your clothed clit matching your pace.
The hero was confronting the enemy for the first time, accusing him.
You tightened your grip, faster and faster, tremors racking Jungkook’s torso.
“I-I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook gasped softly.
The enemy taunted the hero, killing an important side character.
You gripped the swollen head of his cock and cutoff his orgasm sharply. Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth as the gunshot went off, hissing and squeezing his eyes shut.
“N-No…” he murmured behind his tight fingers. Some important character development was happening as you started up again. “P-Please…”
“Shh,” you purred, wiggling up. Jungkook removed his hand from his mouth, slipping his finger under the lace of your panties. You pressed your forehead against his, his black hair brushing your cheeks.
“Wanna cum, please…” he breathed against your lips, so quiet even you barely heard him.
“I know, love. But you can’t.”
He whined quietly, feeling how wet you were, dipping his fingers into it.
“You want me to stop?” you asked gently.
“No…” His eyes were so dark, pupils blown wide. “Keep going.”
Your pussy throbbed as Jungkook slid two fingers in, thrusting slowly to avoid making noise because you were so aroused, pussy absolutely drenched. You started up again, up and down his stiff length, building up speed. The hero was collecting his friends, gaining support of his fellow comrades and rebuilding his resolve as your brought Jungkook to the edge once again, panting against his lips as he slid his fingers in and out of you, making you feel so good, his thumb knuckle rubbing your clit at the same time.
“You’re so wet…” Jungkook exhaled, breath hot. “Wanna be in here so bad.”
You could tell he was getting close again, so close, his lashes fluttering as you got him there, nudging him closer and closer that tipping point, just before, moments before…
You pressed your lips against his, grasping the head firmly as you stopped his orgasm again. He cried out in your mouth, muffled by your kiss and the romantic music playing as the hero confronted his love interest. Rising sexual tension between the hero and said love interest.
You opened your eyes to Jungkook’s pleading gaze, imploring you to finish him off. You could almost hear his voice, knowing exactly what he would say. You’d done this time and time again, in various settings, although perhaps never in such a quiet place.
Please, please, let me cum. Wanna cum so bad for you. Wanna show you how good you make me feel.
One of your eyebrows arched, lips still on his.
But we’re out in public, Jungkook. Everyone’s going to see how naughty you are.
He stared into your eyes, breathing in rapid, shallow gasps, right into your mouth.
Please, I need it. You’re not being fair. You always make me feel so good. Please…
Your thumb slid up, rubbing pre-cum on the velvety skin of the engorged head. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back into his head, shivering at the sensation. His fingers began moving inside you again, and now you both climbed together on that mountain, chasing the pleasure.
The action on the screen became more intense, nearing the final confrontation.
You stroked him hard and fast. He shoved his fingers into you, stimulating your clit at the same time, coating his fingers with your juices, your mouth over his to muffle his cries, his eyes telling you, it’s so good, you’re so good, I love you, please don’t stop, please, I need this, I need you, don’t stop, and you could almost hear it because his lips were moving against yours, forming your name, desperately trying to get you there without making too much sound.
There was a lot of tense stuff going on behind you and a whole lot more happening in your hand and mouth right now.
Jungkook hips bucked in the seat. There was a sharp explosion and all seemed lost for the hero. You moaned softly into Jungkook’s mouth and he groaned as the action hit its peak.
You wrapped your fingers around the throbbing head, squeezing tightly. Jungkook nearly screamed, orgasm cut short once again, digging his fingers into you and stopping your pleasure as well. You bit back your disappointment. Lots of things were happening on the screen, enough action that you could detach your lips from Jungkook’s, his low hiss soft, but deadly.
“Why?” he whispered hotly, puffing his cheeks.
“What are you gonna do, cum on my coat?” you shot back, affronted but playful.
“It’s white!”
You ticked an eyebrow amusedly. “Ah, but the movie’s almost over.”
Some nice closure was happening on the screen, but this was not the case for you or Jungkook.
Jungkook thinned his lips into a line, thoroughly irritated, but also aware that he asked for it. He pulled his fingers out of you, and you took his wrist, guiding them to his mouth. His lashes lowered, quiet erotic moan leaving his throat as he licked off your taste.
“Tastes nice with the strawberry,” he mumbled as he righted his clothes, tucking himself back in and rezipping his pants. He looked up as the closing scene was playing, the hero encountering the tough heroine and professing his love. Except that wasn’t what Jungkook was looking at, because you were in front of him, coat open and tits out, bouncing them in your palms, hard nipples poking out due to the cool air.
Jungkook’s eyes bulged out of his head, gesturing violently for you to close your fleece jacket.
You grinned and scooped your breasts back into your dress. Jungkook looked both disappointed and relieved as the closing credits played. The lights brightened once again. Jungkook scanned the audience, trying to see if anyone noticed.
“I never got to eat my jellies,” you pouted, shoving the bags of sweets into your bag.
“And I never got to watch the movie,” Jungkook snapped, taking the napkins and the lollipop stick, shoving the trash in his hoodie pocket.
You waited until he turned back to face you.
“Next time I’ll let you be then.”
“No, no,” Jungkook said instantly, swooping down and cupping your cheeks. “You don’t have to.”
“Hmm, you’re so upset though.” You stood up and Jungkook followed, taking your hand and holding it tightly. You squeezed his fingers back.
“I’m not upset,” he muttered. “I like all the things you do to me. But you make my life hard.”
You stopped at the stairs, looking up at him from the step below. The top of your white fleece coat was a little open, revealing a little bit of your plum satin dress and all of your cleavage.
“Only your life?” you teased.
“… H-Hey!”
--
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the7thcrow · 3 years
Text
indulgence | part two
~
pairing: felix x (fem) vampire!reader
summary: an indulgence grows to become dangerous, as the society of hampden college takes note of y/n’s new blood bag.
series masterlist.
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word count: 5.8 k
genre: forbidden love. angst, extreme fluff, suggestive.
warnings: blood, suggestive content (sex is discussed but not described), strong language, alcohol and vampires ofc.
rating: 16+
a/n: hi everyone! thank you to anyone who read part one, and liked it enough to continue with part two hehe. the plot really picks up here, and i’m quite excited about it. once again, i love hearing feedback, so don’t be shy in leaving me an ask or message :)
previous chapter.
...
..
.
You were careful. In the beginning, at least. For the first few weeks of carrying your secret, you only met Felix after hours, and only at your home. You’d leave at different times, and you both never spoke a word of what you were doing to anyone.
It was a safe play. A smart one. But as time went on you became sloppy. It started on the day Felix’s roommates would be gone for the entire weekend.
You were both lying in your bed, the rainy Sunday morning having trickled by in a lazy, melancholic fashion. These were your favourite days, the ones in which he’d arrive just before dawn and leave near dusk. 
You’d gotten used to his presence around your apartment, his absence painfully noticeable during the days you found yourself cooped up there alone. You liked when he was there, even when you weren’t talking, lounging on the couch in silence with your feet intertwined as you caught up on your required reading. Or when sometimes he’d cook for you, baking you sweets as you were stressed out over a paper that’s due date was much closer than you’d realized. Him simply being around granted you comfort, a sense of companionship, something you hadn’t felt for a long time.
You couldn’t deny that Felix Lee had nestled himself into your life, and you’d be a liar to say you weren’t enjoying it. Being with him made you love the creature you were, seeing the way your feeding affected him, the way it set the two of you on fire. Forgetting for a moment how restrictive your life truly was, how exhausting and lonely it often happened to be. 
Looking back, perhaps that was the entire problem itself. That wasn’t something you should so easily forget, no matter how tempting it may be.
“Come on,” Felix whined, tracing shapes along the bare of your back with his finger. “They won’t be there all weekend, it won’t be any different then when we’re here.”
He was trying to convince you to come spend the following weekend at his apartment, as his roommates were leaving on a ski trip and wouldn’t be back until Monday morning.
“Well, if it won’t be any different then why should we bother risking it?” You returned. In truth, you really did want to go spend time at his place. It felt like the next step in your relationship, however strange and complicated it may be. You weren’t sure if “relationship” was even the right term for whatever you two were, but you didn’t want to overthink things too much. For now, all you wanted was to enjoy this while it lasted, as deep down you knew it couldn’t be forever. 
“Because,” he mumbled, rolling you over to face him. This wasn’t going to help your willpower, you’d come to find you just couldn’t say no to those dark, curious eyes. “I feel like I’ve really gotten to know you these last few weeks. I mean, I’ve seen your life. Your room, your book and record collections, what you keep stocked in your refrigerator. I guess I just want to share my space with you too.”
You groaned, shifting downwards to bury your face in his chest. “Well that’s not fair. How am I supposed to say no to that?”
“Exactly, you can’t,” he laughed.
“You’re the worst.”
“I know. Sorry.”
You sighed. “Fine. I’ll head over Friday night then.”
“See, I knew you’d come around,” he smiled, his voice light with enthusiasm. However, you couldn’t ignore the weight of anxiousness bubbling in your chest. You looked up at Felix, and you knew that he could see it written on your face.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, methodically running his fingers through your hair, something he’d learned would help calm you down whenever you were stressed. “I’ll make it worth your time.”
~~~~
Felix did, in fact, make it worth your time. When you arrived at his doorstep the following weekend, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. Carefully, you twisted the knob, peeking inside.
It was safe to say you were surprised.
The apartment was entirely candlelit, the smell of rose scented candles mixing with that of whatever Felix was presently cooking in the kitchen. The table was done up in a way that reminded you of a cheesy Italian restaurant, with a checkered red tablecloth, two glasses for wine, and a rose stationed in the middle.
Felix emerged from the kitchen, a wide, toothy grin on his face. He was wearing an apron, patterned with an alarming amount of cartoon kittens, over what appeared to be a rather expensive suit.
“I feel like I’m underdressed,” you stated, unable to mask the pure awe in your voice. Nobody, not even Chan, had done anything like this for you. Not to mention the fact that you and Felix weren’t even dating… 
Were you? This seemed like an awful lot of effort to put in for someone you were only hooking up with.
“Nah, you look great. Don’t worry about it,” Felix said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll take your jacket Mademoiselle.”
You laughed, taking off your overcoat and handing it to him. “That’s French. I thought you were going for Italian,” you joked, attempting to hide the warmth flooding to your cheeks.
“Shhh,” he said, setting your jacket down on the couch before putting his hands on your shoulders. “Just let me have this one. Okay?”
“Okay,” you said quietly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. You felt oddly shy, surrounded by such a scene. 
“Well if you’ll take a seat, I can show you what I’ve been making in the kitchen,” he said, moving towards the table and pulling out the chair. You complied, sitting down and shifting your focus to the wonderful smell wafting in from the kitchen. 
Felix disappeared before appearing with two plates, setting one down in front of you. “Shrimp Scampi,” he clarified. You glanced up at him and you could tell he was slightly nervous. Knowing Felix, he was probably worried you wouldn’t like it.
How someone could possibly not appreciate all of this, was entirely beyond you.
You decided to reassure him. “It looks amazing, Felix. All of this,” you said, gesturing to the room around you. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you did this, it's so… unbelievably sweet.”
“Well,” he said shyly, removing the apron and setting it down on the kitchen counter. “I knew you were worried about coming over here. So, I guess I just wanted to make it the best I could. Less terrifying and more something you’d really enjoy. You know?”
If your cheeks weren’t red before, they certainly were now. It took everything in you not to lean over the table and kiss him right then and there.
He grabbed a bottle of wine from the liquor cabinet behind him, pouring the liquid into your glass. “White wine?” You questioned with a smirk. “I thought you would have gone with red.”
He chuckled, beginning to fill his own. “I thought about it, but it felt a little too cliche. Besides,” he said, corking the bottle and setting it back down on the table. “White goes better with seafood.”
You picked up your glass, taking a small sip. “Pinot grigio?”
He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “A bit of a wine connoisseur, are we?” 
You laughed. “Something like that.” 
Truth be told, you weren’t. Frankly, you’d always much preferred scotch. However, Chan was big on wine. From the two years you’d spent together, you’d managed to pick up a thing or two.
The rest of the dinner passed smoothly. The food was delicious, the wine smooth, the conversation breezy. You’d calmed down from the initial shock of it all, and had settled back into the comfortable atmosphere you and Felix had developed over the past few weeks.
After you’d both finished your meals, he rose to his feet, setting your plates down on the kitchen counter before disappearing around the corner, into the living room. You were wondering if you should follow him, when suddenly classical music started to fill your ears.
You rose to your feet, peering around the corner to see Felix stationed beside a record player. He smiled, before extending a hand out towards you. “Come on, dance with me.”
“You sure are cheesy today, huh?” You laughed, taking his hand anyway. You laid your head against his chest, the two of you swaying gently, a sorry attempt at a Waltz. 
The music from the record filled the room, the notes dancing along with the two of you, a symphony of affection. You quickly recognized the piece as The Four Seasons.
“Vivaldi is my favourite composer,” you mumbled into his chest.
“I know, you told me a while ago,” he spoke quietly.
“Ah,” you said, smiling to yourself over the fact he remembered. “I’m surprised you have a record of him, I know you aren’t the classical type.”
“You’re right, I’m not,” he laughed. “It’s actually one of my roommates.” 
“I see. What are they like?” Even with all the time you’d spent together, you and Felix had never talked about the people in your personal lives. 
“Hmm,” Felix hummed. Although he didn’t say anything, you could tell he was happy that you asked. That you were slowly breaking the barrier you’d put around yourself. 
“Well, Han- that’s whose record this is- he’s... well he’s loud, but I think you’d really like him. He’s studying music theory, wants to be something of a composer himself. He’s a bit messy, but if you harp on him enough he’ll keep his shit clean.” 
“He sounds nice,” you offered kindly. “What about your other one?”
“Ah, yeah. Changbin. His name is Changbin,” Felix said, but you could tell there was something off about his tone.
“What about him?”
“He’s… he’s going through a lot right now. But normally he’s the coolest. He’s also in music theory, so he and Han help eachother out a lot. He’s the type to bring you food when you’ve been working on a paper all day, because he knows you’ve forgotten to eat. Always there for you, you know?”
“Yeah, I get it,” you said. Talking about Changbin seemed to make Felix nervous, based on the way he wouldn’t meet your eye and the apprehension in his voice. You could bet it had to do with whatever Changbin was going through at the moment, but despite your curiousness you decided to drop it. It wasn’t any of your business.
The two of you swayed in silence for a few moments. There was nothing left to say on the matter.
“You know,” you said suddenly. “You said you wanted to show me your space, but I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”
Felix smirked. “Ah, I guess you haven’t. Why, you impatient for something?”
You laughed, looking up at him. “Get your head out of the gutter, Lix. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Mhm. Yeah, sure you don’t,” he returned, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway to your left. He stopped, turning to open a door that was currently covered in a rather elaborate arrangement of animal stickers. You raised your eyebrows at him.
“Oh right, the stickers,” Felix said, smacking his forehead with his palm. “Han thought it would be funny, but now I can’t get them off.” 
You smiled. Felix was right, you and Han would probably get along. 
The inside of Felix's room was oddly exactly how you had imagined it. Books were stacked neatly on the desk in the corner, ranging from academic texts to various manga. Posters hung on the walls, representing different music artists, some you recognized and others you did not. He had a nintendo switch tossed on his night stand, and plants hanging in the window. The room, while packed, was clean and well in order. An organized sort of chaos.
You laid down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. You felt the mattress sink slightly as he laid beside you.
“Do you like it?” He whispered.
“I do. It’s very you.”
He hummed in acknowledgment, rolling onto his side to face you. His fingers wandered in the air for a moment, before finding themselves placed against your cheek. Gently he stroked his thumb back and forth along your jawbone. 
You smiled, leaning into his touch, placing your own hand in his hair. “I feel like dessert,” you stated.
Felix’s cheeks warmed. “I made brownies,” he mumbled, his gaze deepening. “But something tells me that’s not what you have in mind.”
~~~
It was not what you had in mind, and you’d gone far beyond merely explaining that to Felix. The two of you were tangled together beneath his sheets, his head resting on your chest. The room was dark, preventing you from seeing the details of his face, only the shadows and the curve of his jaw visible in the moonlight. 
“Felix?” You whispered, wondering if he was awake.
“Mmm?” He mumbled, clearly only half-conscious. 
“You know I can’t give you more than this, right? We’ll always have to sneak around, keep us a secret. It’ll never be easy.”
“I know.”
“And you’re really okay with that?”
He reached for your hand, allowing your fingers to intertwine. “If it means I have you, I’ll manage.” 
A moment of silence passed by, as you were unsure of what to say, but something inside of you stirred. Something deep and warm, coming back to life.
“Y/N?” He asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. 
“Yeah?”
“Do I have you?”
“Of course, Lix,” you smiled, finally allowing your eyes to close, putting your mind to rest. “I’m all yours.”
    ~~~~
The following morning you awoke to the sound of rain pattering against the window, Felix still sleeping soundly against your chest. Carefully, you moved his head to the pillow, sliding out from under him and emerging into the hallway.
The apartment felt eerily quiet. You never found yourself in an unfamiliar place in the mornings, and the urge to evacuate and run back to your apartment was more tempting than you would’ve liked to admit. You wouldn’t, of course. Felix had put in the effort to make you feel comfortable, to feel at home. You would honour that, no matter how slightly terrifying it might be.
You wandered into the kitchen, noticing a container full of brownies set on the counter. You smiled, those were supposed to be eaten yesterday, before, well… 
You opened the package taking a bite of the sweet, before spitting it out in shock.
The apartment door swung open wildly, a boy with brown hair and chubby cheeks storming inside, a thick cast around his wrist. He threw his backpack onto the couch, letting the ski’s he was carrying clatter against the wall.
“Felix, you will not believe how bad the hill was. There was hardly even any snow, and the amount of rocks? It was like they wanted me to break my arm! Believe me, you made the right call opting out, it was not worth the drive-”
The boy stopped, his eyes bulging as he finally realized you were in the room. His silence made you quickly realize that you were only sporting one of Felix’s shirts, and while it covered you fine, it told an obvious tale. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. Hi!” He said, his mind finally catching up on the situation. 
Alright, this was it. Clearly you and Felix weren’t a secret anymore, at least not with his roommates. Now you had to decide how you were going to play this out. Your mind was buzzing. You knew this was a bad idea. You knew this was dangerous. You fucked up. It was over for you. You were screwed. 
Attempting to settle your racing mind, you decided to make an effort at being friendly for now. 
“Hi,” you smiled, moving behind the kitchen table to cover your legs. “I’m assuming you’re Han?” 
“Yeah, how’d you know?” He laughed.
“Felix mentioned you were a tad… charismatic.” 
Han chuckled. “Did he now? I’ll have to pay him back for that. I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name-”
Felix burst out of the hallway, his hair a disheveled mess and shirt only half buttoned. “Han! You’re back early!” 
He looked at you, and while you wanted to be furious at him, planned to make him regret getting you to come here, the look of guilt in his eyes stopped you before you could even begin. It were as if the words “I’m Sorry” were branded to his forehead, his features solemn with remorse.
“We have to get out of here,” you thought. “We have to talk about this, figure out what the hell to do.”
“Wait, what did you do to your arm?” Felix asked, just noticing the thick cast.
“Ah,” Han said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm. “I wiped out. Like I said, the hill was bad. Not enough snow and too much ice. I slid into a rock and, well… Doctor said I have to keep this on for the next 5 weeks, which blows, obviously,” he motioned to the cast, shrugging his shoulder helplessly. 
Before you could get a word in, he continued. “Oh, have you guys eaten yet? Changbin’s just grabbing-”
Felix quickly cut him off. “We were actually just about to go get something to eat.”
Han raised an eyebrow, glancing from Felix, who looked like he just stumbled out of a 2 year coma, to yourself, who was certainly in no position to walk out the door.  “You were?”
“Yeah!” You exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly. “I’m just going to, uh, get changed, and then we’ll be out of your hair,” you said, rushing past them and into Felix’s bedroom.
You shut the door behind you, leaning up against the frame before taking a deep breath. Okay, you could do this. You’d make a quick exit, then you and Felix could sort out what to do next. Maybe he could tell them you were just a hookup. But would that look too suspicious? Did they notice he’d been sneaking out almost every night? If they did that would only cause more problems. 
God, this was a fucking mess. You shouldn’t have come, you shouldn’t have come, you shouldn't have come- 
“Y/N?” Felix called, knocking on the door. “Are you almost ready?”
“Y-yeah!” You called back, cringing at the waver in your voice. You had to get yourself together. You threw on your jeans from the following day, tucking in Felix’s button up and bounded towards the door.
“Alright, I’m ready,” you said, bouncing back into the living room. However, you were surprised to be greeted by someone new. The boy was standing beside Felix and Han, whispering in a rushed, as well as undeniably angry tone. 
More surprising yet, and perhaps unsettling as well, he was glaring at you. No, glaring wasn’t the right word. His eyes screamed bloody murder, his jaw locked, entire body was rigid with a stiffness only produced by vile distaste. It was that look of hatred, that familiar spiteful glaze, which immediately made you recognize him.
“I’ve seen you at the library before,” you stated, taking note of how his eyes widened slightly at the sound of your voice.
The boy cleared his throat. “I don’t think so,” he stated, which was an obvious lie. He’d visited the library several times during the dead of the night, always with that same angry, loathsome stare. You’d always found it unsettling, and always left soon after he arrived, even if you still had work to do.
“Yes, you-” you began, but Felix quickly cut you off. 
“Sorry, Changbin. We were just leaving, I’ll catch you guys later.” He said, taking your arm and quickly ushering you out the entry. You saw Han attempt to call out in protest, but Felix quickly shut the door behind him, blocking whatever it was he had to say.
You turned to Felix. “What the hell was that?”
“What, I figured you’d want to get out of there?” He shrugged, not meeting your eye as he walked ahead of you, making his way down the complex stairs. 
You scowled, chasing after him. “Not that, why was Changbin - or whatever his name is - staring at me like that?”
“That’s just the way Changbin has been lately,” Felix said, although you couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more to it. Pulling your arm away, you pushed passed him. If Felix was going to be so frustrating, there was no way you were going to be the one trailing him like a puppy.
“Well, I know for a fact he’s seen me at the library, so why would he lie about that?” You continued, opening the main doors and storming onto the street. 
Felix jogged after you. “I don’t know?” He shot back, his voice sharp. “Maybe he just forgot?”
You scoffed, turning a corner onto the main walking path, heading off campus and towards your own apartment. You needed to sort this out, and the last thing you needed was to cause a scene in the middle of a busy street.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, still keeping yourself a few steps ahead. “We’ll figure it out when we get back to my place.”
“It’s the middle of the day, I thought that was against your precious rules,” he sniped. You knew he was just angry, blowing off steam, but the jab hurt. He was fully aware that you hated the way things were, the way things had to be. It was a low blow, and it only made your annoyance spike. 
“Fine, Lix. You don’t have to come, go back home so you don’t have to be a burden to my ‘precious rules.’”
“Shit, no. Wait, Y/N!” He babbled, running to put himself in front of you. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for, I didn’t mean that. Please, let’s figure this out. I want to, seriously.”
You stared at him for a moment, before walking past him, a sigh trailing from your lips. “Fine, come on.”
He let out a relieved breath before catching up, placing himself at your side. 
“We need to determine what the hell we’re going to tell your roommates,” you start. “Because as of now, we’ve gotten ourselves into a load of shit-”
You didn’t see the man in front of you as you collided into his chest, falling to the ground, rubbing your nose from the immediate shock of pain. 
“Woah, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there,” the voice said, and your entire body froze. You knew that voice. You knew that voice well. It was a voice you hadn’t heard in months, the voice of the worst possible person you could stumble into at the moment.
“Hold on, Y/N?” Chan asked. You looked up to meet his gaze, petrified by the familiar look of pain in his eyes. The same hurt from the last time you saw him, or in better terms, left him.
“Hey, Chan,” you replied, your voice coming out more shaky than you wanted it to. Chan extended a hand, lifting you to your feet. “It’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” he laughed quietly, scratching the back of his neck. “It sure has.”
Then, to your complete and utter despair, his gaze shifted to Felix. It was alarming, how quickly his gaze hardened, the way any sense of past affection drifted from his eyes. “Who’s this?” He asked, his voice cold. 
“That’s Felix. He’s uh, from class, we got assigned for a partner project. We have to explain how without divine intervention, the events in The Iliad may have transpired differently,” you said. If you were going to lie, you had to at least try to make it sound believable. 
“Ah, I see,” Chan said, an edge to his voice. “Where are you guys heading?”
“Just a cafe,” you replied, keeping your voice level.
“Off campus?” He asked, his eyes narrowing, you felt your heart leap into your throat.
“Yeah,” Felix answered without missing a beat. “Figured it would be less busy, you know?”
“Hm,” Chan said, before giving the boy a smile. To Felix, it probably seemed nice, but you knew Chan. Which meant you also knew there wasn’t an ounce of genuine kindness in that expression. 
“Alright, well I’ll let you guys get to it then,” he shook Felix’s hand, his grip slightly too firm. “It was nice meeting you.”
He took a step to make his exit, and for a moment you thought you’d gotten away with it. You thought that somehow, you’d manage to evade this inevitable disaster. Foolish.
Chan stopped beside you, putting a hand on your shoulder. Turning to Felix, he smiled, his eyes glinting. “And hey, you might want to fix your collar.”
Felix’s eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on his face as he adjusted the collar of his button-up. That’s when you noticed it. The bite marks just peeked out, visibly fresh from the following night.
Chan leaned in, his breath warm against your neck, lips brushing your ear. Your body froze, heart stopping at his words.
“You’ve got his scent all over you.”
~~~~
You and Felix spent the next few hours deciding your best course of action. In a matter of a day, your entire arrangement had been flipped on its head.
The first issue revolved around Felix’s roommates, the biggest worry being what exactly he was going to tell them. After much thought, as well as a bit of arguing, you decided to have Felix say that the two of you were casually seeing each other. This way, they shouldn’t get suspicious that there was more going on, but they also wouldn’t expect to necessarily see you around their apartment either.
There was still risk in it - of course, there always was - as there was the remaining fear that one of them might mention the two of you to the wrong person, and you’d be doomed. As much as having this as a risk pained you, there wasn’t much you could do about it, at least for the moment. For now, you had to trust that if Felix told them to keep it a secret, they would.
This was difficult, as you truthfully didn’t have faith in either of them. Han seemed nice, of course. But it was clear he liked to talk, and it wouldn’t be shocking if something managed to slip from his lips. 
Changbin... Well, he seemed to hate you, for whatever reason that might be. You tried to talk to Felix about this, but he simply brushed it off, blaming it on whatever Changbin happened to be going through at the moment. Begrudgingly, you decided to drop it, but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t store the worry in the back of your mind. Keep a watchful eye out.
The bigger problem was Chan. He knew. He knew everything. The feeding, the fucking. That Felix was something more than just an acquaintance. He could single-handedly unravel your relationship, all it would take was a quick chat with The Council, and you would be ruined. There would be nothing you could do to stop them. You didn’t know what The Council would do to you, but you knew at the very least they would force you to end your arrangement with Felix.
You wanted to believe that Chan wouldn’t do that. You really did, but you knew that might not be the case. If he saw telling The Council as a way of protecting you, to keep you away from humans that could be out to hurt you, or use you, there was no doubt in your mind that that’s exactly what he would do.
For now, all you could do was wait, and keep as low of a profile as you possibly could at the moment. It was for this purpose that you said the following words:
“I think we need to distance ourselves from each other, for at least a little while,” you said to Felix. He currently was sitting on your couch, elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands.
Slowly, he glanced up at you. He looked tired. “Do we have to?” He asked, his voice flooded with defeat. The last few hours hadn't been easy. There were sacrifices to make, ones that neither of you wanted to adhere to. But this was not as simple as what you did and didn’t want.
“Yeah,” you sighed, dropping down on the couch beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “We have to. I think we could have dealt with your roommates, but Chan is a far bigger issue.”
Felix frowned, and you knew exactly how he felt.
 This sucked. 
Over the past month, you’d really come to like Felix. You genuinely enjoyed his company, his cooking, his sense of humour. The way he brightened up a room. Most of all, he made you feel less alone. Together you were a part of something. A relationship of sorts. You mattered. And while you would do what you could to make sure this farewell wasn’t forever, in the end it was still a goodbye.
And goodbye’s were always hard, no matter what lay behind them.
“Alright,” he murmured, taking your hand in his, gently brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “When should I expect to hear from you again?”
“I’ll give you a call by the end of the week. I might try talking to Chan, just to see where he’s at with all this. Try to make him understand before he decides to throw me under the bus.”
Felix hums in response, before twisting his neck so that his chin rests on top of your head. “I’m going to miss you,” he states simply. 
You smile sadly, planting a soft kiss at the nape of his neck. “I’ll miss you too,” you say, “but this will only be temporary. I’ll make sure of it.”
~~~~
You didn’t get the chance to talk to Chan, as not even a full day after Felix left your apartment, a letter slid under your door. Carefully, you arose from your spot on your couch, setting your laptop down on the coffee table. You approached the envelope slowly, as if you were to move too fast, it might combust.
You picked up the letter, turning it over to reveal the seal. Your heart sunk in your chest.
There it was. The red wax seal. The letter was from The Society. 
Fuck.
You frantically ripped off the seal, releasing the note inside with shaky hands.
Dear Ms. L/N,
We have recently been informed that you have been participating in actions that violate the terms of our Society agreement. This information has been provided to us by a source of whom wishes to remain anonymous for the time being.
However, these claims remain a serious issue. We would like to give you the chance to explain yourself, as well as clear up what may be a possible misunderstanding or simply a false accusation. If these actions happen to be true, then we will deal with matters accordingly.
You are called to attend this meeting at 1:00pm tomorrow, at the councilroom of our head district.
We appreciate your compliance. 
Our regards,
The Council.
~~~~
It’s almost funny, looking back on how hopeful you’d been. That despite everything working against you, you’d somehow thought you could best them. Somehow thought that you were more powerful than the unbeatable. More powerful than The Council.
That’s where you found yourself now, seated before the three all-powerful vampires, surrounded by endless more. You thought you’d be more terrified, more horrified of what they might choose to do to you. 
But you aren’t. You’re tired of this. Tired of it all. So let them do whatever they wanted, you would take it. You didn’t regret any of what you did.
Not a damn thing. 
“Ms. L/N,” the head councilmen repeats, voice dead of emotion. “Do you know why you’re here today?”
Of course you do. He knows damn well that you know exactly why you’re here, you can see it in the smirk playing at the corner of his lips.The question is mockery. 
So you say nothing. 
“Cooperation will make this much easier, Ms. L/N,” another member of The Council speaks from beside him. She looks far younger than he is, although they are probably around the same age. Which is to say, hundreds of years old.
As your silence continues, the head councilman sighs, rubbing the space between his eyes in frustration. “Fine. Let me explain, shall I? We have reason to suspect you’ve been… coercing with a human boy. Felix Lee.”
Your heart jumps slightly. They know his name? You weren’t expecting that, but then again this was The Council. Digging up identities was the least they were capable of.
“Is this true, Ms. L/N?”
You stare at the councilman. There’s no point in lying. He knows. This meeting was not to defend your innocence, but to determine your punishment. You can see it in his eyes. Those hollow, sunken eyes, that seem farther from humanity than you could’ve dreamed possible.
“Yes,” you state. Your eyes drift to the corner of the room, landing on Chan, who’s gaze remains firm. You want to slap him. Or yell at him. Maybe both. 
“Hm, well at least you’re honest,” the councilman murmurs, a light buzz of laughter vibrating throughout the room. This is funny to them, a joke. Irritation itches under your skin, you don’t quite see the humour here.
“Well,” the councilmen starts, a glint in his eye. “In order to reward your honesty, I suppose we won’t punish you.”
You blink. “What?” You say, your voice coming out a croak. You glance at Chan again, who looks equally confused. His eyes are wide, chest heaving as his breathing rate increases. No, he’s not confused, he’s alarmed.
Something is wrong. You glance back at the councilman, and there it is again, that glint of something awful in his eyes. Something evil.
“You heard me correctly, Ms. L/N. We will not punish you,” the last word drips from his tongue, and you come to understand the weight of his words.
“Fuck. No. No, no, no,” you can hardly hear yourself think over the ringing in your ears, your thoughts a jumbled mess of panic and pure terror.
The councilmen clears his throat, a grin spreading across his lips, fangs almost shining in the dim light of the councilroom. 
“No, Felix Lee will be the one to pay this price. Kill him, and the damage you’ve caused will be forgiven.”
~~
next chapter.
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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years
Note
hey Kip! I’m sending asks into different writer’s askboxes, inquiring about cool themes/development facts/stuff the author wants to share about their personal favorite work of their own. What’s yours? :)
Ok so this ask is old and when I first got it I was like “dang I don’t really have a lot to talk about, what should I talk about I could those revalink headcanons the Kip Cut that turned into a working fic uhh hmm maybe I’ll just make something new to talk about real quick” and then I did and now there is a 12+ chapter Revalink fic in my drafts and I’m gonna talk about that now, whoopsie doopsie [click "j" to skip]
aHEM, OK so allow me to break out the primary school white board because yeah, I have a lot of thoughts and the oxford comma has not yet made it’s home into my brain. oh and spoilers for paraphrase. for both all of Chapter one and future events in later chapters, but it’s really nothing you couldn’t surmise from the AO3 tags
so I really wanted to tell the story of Revali and Link learning and struggling to love again after the less-than-fortunate events of Botw, but I wanted a...how you say...fresher, approach on the subject? Like I know we always say that fanfic writers writing the same tropes and stories time and time again is good because we eat that shit up--but at the same time I had asian parenting as was told never to half ass anything ever, no matter what. So now I'm gay and extra and have depression maybe and oh would you look at that @motherhyrule has dropped a beautiful revalink prompt right into my lap
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Great so now that we have, that, I shall take you on the step by step process on how to make a :sparkles: story. So step one is to spend at least five to eleven business days for your white board to dismantle your genre and themes and work them around your character arcs. Luckily I have prepared one ahead of time
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s*breaks out those laser pointers that uni professors use* So let's start with defining genre. As define because I HATE you, fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff, fuck you and yours
is the set of expectations that your audience has when consuming a piece of media
And the great thing about fanfiction is that unlike movies or book where the genres are more vague like, "oh it's a noir mystery genre. so there's a crime, maybe a murder, and a detective and a criminal." or "oh it's a teen romance. so there's some white people and a morally questionable six-pack 18 year old love interest that will be painted as desirable for some reason" BUT with fanfiction HALF of the work out the window, because as soon as you see those #revalink #aro sidon #zelpha #revali is an idiot and #found family tags you already know what's up.
Now what's so great about genre and expectation? Well the fun thing about it is that
I will use it to fucking break you.
... ... ...
<3 For example! <3
In Chapter 1: Holes, you already expect there to be revalink, you already expect them to be soulmates with the soulmarks and there's angst and yadayada ya. Revali and Link have to match because thatttss what this is all about, this is about them! This is about cute, little soulmarks and romantic words!
But whoooopsie doopsie [disney channel laugh track plays] they DON'T match anymore! Link's got a different mark! The number one rule of this entire genre has been broken whoooooooooooooooops. *ba dum tiss*
You might notice with a lot of my writing that I do this a lot, this whole..."oop but there's one little thing that's different." TebaSaki sick fic? Ok cool, but what if Teba burns an irreplaceable relic of the Rito champion to fight a wizzrobe first to characterize why his dumbass clicks with Saki. Mipha deciding to persue Link? Ok what if she chases after a dragon to externalize this conflict as she pierces it's flesh for a scale. Link fighting a Lynel? Ok but what if it's actually a sidlink angst fic in disguise and it's also world building on how Link deals with the bloodmoon that erases all of his efforts which is sort of similar to how his existence was erased from Hyrule 100 years ago mwaahahaha! Ok now that I say this outloud I think I just have a pattern of using fight scenes to externalize character growth. I like fight scenes...anyways.
I think another great thing about the realm of fanfiction is that with the tagging system, I can basically use a chekhov's gun sort of deal, without doing any writing. You know I'm gonna use that gun marked "soulmates" but you don't know when I'm gonna shoot it, and you SURE as hell don't know how.
And huzzah! One of the main points of conflict both drives the tension between Revali and Link, solidifies the unique genre and setting of this world, while also creating a new mystery that will carry over for the next few chapters.
Is Revali right in that Link's rebirth makes him destined for someone new now? What will Link do with the information that his soulmark has changed? Why did it change? Did Revali's change as well? How does anything fucking work right now?
And sure, you might be able to tell where things will end with them, but you sure as fuck will not know how because I HATE you. Fuck you. I want you to suffer and writhe on the ground, motherfucker. How dare you think that I would give you nothing but pure predictable fluff. I am not your goddamn fairy godmother, I will do as I fucking please. You will suffer as you fucking deserve, fuck you and your little tiny--
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/j
Oh! But you might have noticed on my little planning whiteboard thing that there was a little T-Chart! For Revali and Link! That's because the next important thing besides plot (and in a lot of cases, including this one, it's argued to be even MORE important than plot) is
~CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT~
[to the tune of that history of the world video on youtube]
So yes, it's a little T-Chart outlining their character views in relation to the themes. And the great thing about themes is that they're not something you can necessarily predict in the same way you can with the genre and plot.
But now see, I'm very lazy so I'm just gonna plagiarize @hyrule-kingdom-updates thingy [that you should read btw] because they said my point quite clear enough
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Now I don't really need to care about those points about bond and relationships and being understood, because I'm dealing with already established canon characters. I'm not some NERD who dabbles with entire casts of ocs who even cares about ocs not me that's for sure ahaahahaahahahahahaahahahahahAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *cries in my orphaned WTTU fic* AHAHAHA*sobs*DONT FUCKING LOOK AT ME THAT WAY I SWEAR--
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/j I love ocs
But the points I do wanna focus on is the idea that characters provide new perspectives on the theme, and that characters growth can be tracked based on their wants, lies, and needs.
So see, themes can be predicted the same as genre/plot because while you can have the same fanfic plots and tropes, theme will always vary!
Sometimes it's a journey of selfworth with Revali! Sometimes it's an exploration of trauma with Link. Sometimes it's about how you deal with the vulnerabilities of love with Mipha. Sometimes there's straight up NOOOO theme, and people just be fucking, and kissing, and baking, and having a good time. And that is totally fine too!
But I'm not a fucking coward.
I'm gonna weave in themes with my plot, because I fucking can.
I'm not a weakling like you.
Do you hear me, 2019 Kip? Do you hear me Demmers? Do you hear me Quill? I'm coming for your ass. You think you're so great, but I'm coming for you. Rest assured that your graves will be as deep as your sculptured pride--
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Heeeere is that T-Chart again, plus more!
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yyyyyYou might notice that Revali and Link are quite parallel, to paraphrase. Ayoooo, see what I did there? *dabs* I'm a genius. Anywho
They both start off the same way: 100 years ago they were in love and happy. Basically the equivalent of childish naivety. For the first time in their lives, life is whimsical and charming, and they make each other happy. In fact, it's almost a flaw with how they perceive this happiness. But don't worry! It doesn't last long!
You know what happens.
I think the chart is pretty self explanatory. Revali builds walls fast enough to give a republican a wet dream. Meanwhile Link makes every aromantic in the chat groan with his doubled down sentiments in the idea that his chances of being truly happy again are gone.
Now, I can't exactly describe the full on process of the inbetweens, and where Revali and Link are gonna go from here, because...you have to read it for yourself! Heehee...but something I did think was fun was how these character views on the themes are revealed. Because you'll notice that, I never give exposition. Ever.
Ok well, let me rephrase that. I never give exposition scenes. I will never give you a big LOTR fancy wizard scene explaining the ins and outs of a character's question or the world's magic or whatever. I'm a very impatient Kip, and I value efficiency. Nonono, it's all about multi tasking, baby!
Chapter 1: Holes is divided into three parts.
Post 100 Years - Medoh (Establishes Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view)
100 Years Ago - Flight Range (Establishes old Revalink views)
Post 100 years - Mark (Develops Ghost Rev/Bonk Head Link's view in contrast to who they once were)
I think the way that you structure flashbacks is incredible vital, as it's a very quick way to characterize people without having them say stuff like "I used to be like you, until I took an arrow to the knee" or whatever.
And with the main structure of the chapters and the fic as a whole is focus on their characters, that means I can hide whatever other stuff I want in those scenes, becuase you're too busy absorbing the fun character stuff to realizing I'm giving you boring exposition. Like for example:
Post 100 Years - Medoh and Mark
Foreshadowing for the end of the fic
Set up connection to Medoh with Revali
Link has defeated Windblight
Link has been visiting Revali every night for the past few days
Link has already met Kass and presumably Teba
Link doesn't have the Mastersword
Revali's Gale is still an ability that needs master and practice on Link's end
And that's just some of the stuff.
And see, the only reason I can efficiently give all of this information regarding character, and even exposition, is because of the theme. The themes make everything relevant, and everything circles and encompasses one another, so there's absolutely no wasted space. I mean don't even get me started on how it's gonna be to characterize the other characters around this
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I don't wanna talk about the other characters too much either because that's spoilers, but you can probably take a gandar based on my notes.
And oh my god this is just on the theme of the faults that come with "soulmates" and "true love" and all that, and how even magical destined relationships still require work and effort, and that no one thing or person solves all your problems. And that's not even TOUCHING the shit on trauma and scars. I didn't think it was even possible for me to talk about botw without touching on that, ha. Ah well, I've been talking for too long.
Revalink has a lot o' writing potential so das pretty cool yeah, I am excite
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midzelink · 4 years
Text
What’s Going On with the Ears in Hyrule?
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(Or: A Needlessly Comprehensive Deep-Dive into the Myst-EAR-ious Duality of Round-Eared Humans and Long-Eared Hylians, a Very S-EAR-ious Write-Up)
As some of you may remember from a few months back, I made an off-hand comment about my ideas surrounding the disparities between the different types of ears we see in Hyrule’s human citizens, and my desire to further expand on that at a later date.  No, that was not a joke, and yes, I am finally Doing the Dang Thing.  So!  Let’s get started.
Long-time fans of the series will know that Hylians are a race of humans in the world of The Legend of Zelda with long, elf-like ears.  Hylians most always dominate the land of Hyrule in nearly every installment in the series, with round-eared humans only making their first appearance in Link’s Awakening, a game that - spoiler alert - was all a dream in the first place.  And though plain old humans again appear in the lands of Holodrum and Labrynna in the follow-up Oracle games, it is very in keeping with the theme of this blog that their most notable appearance happens to be in Twilight Princess.
Though it is never remarked upon in-game, Link is the only Hylian in a village filled with humans, such as Ilia and Rusl, leading the player to assume that he was not Ordon-born.  Other notable examples include Ashei, who hails from the mountains, and even the inhabitants of (New) Kakariko (though only three in number) are all mere humans.  The Hylians of this game seem to be centralized around Castle Town, with notable members including Telma, Shad, and Auru of the Resistance, and naturally, Zelda herself.  Yet as I’ve already stated, the fact that there are two different sets of ears among the humans is never even a topic of conversation; it makes you wonder why the developers bothered to make the distinction at all, and indeed, plenty of fans have never even noticed that such a disparity exists. I certainly didn’t notice when I was ten years old, playing through Twilight Princess for the very first time - but we’ve come a long way since then, and I am delighted to finally be able to tell everyone why I think this disparity exists, and how it has bled into other aspects of the series.  Let’s back away from Twilight Princess for a moment; all good theories have a beginning, and this one is no different.  To understand where this all began, we must look thousands of years into the past, to Skyward Sword.  More specifically, this all started...
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...with this guy.
Yes, Beedle.  That Beedle.  But before we can even jump into how he relates to any of this, we must travel further back still, to the very opening cutscene of Skyward Sword.  
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In this cutscene, we hear a very dumbed-down tale of how Demise invaded the surface world that was ruled over by the Goddess Hylia; to protect the sacred relic placed into her care by the Golden Goddesses, Hylia rends a piece of land from the earth and sends it skyward, leaving the Goddess Sword and the Triforce with it.  Together with the remaining peoples of the Surface, she seals Demise away, and millennia later the events of Skyward Sword transpire.  The entirety of this cutscene is not in and of itself very important, but I would like to draw everyone’s attention to one particular line uttered by the narrator during this sequence:
“To prevent this great power from falling into the hands of the evil swarming the lands… The goddess gathered the surviving humans on an outcropping of earth.”
It is worth noting here that - though the word “Hylian” itself only appears in reference to the shield which bears its name - Skyloft is comprised entirely of people with long ears.  Keeping these things in mind, let’s go back to Beedle.
Beedle is, by all intents and purposes, a fairly unremarkable character in Skyward Sword.  That is to say, outside of providing Link with goods throughout his adventure, he bears no significance on the plot in any capacity, having only a single sidequest that involves retrieving a pet beetle (snickers) of his, for which the player’s reward is a small sum of Gratitude Crystals.  But there is one, throwaway line of completely optional dialogue you can trigger towards the beginning of this sidequest, and it is upon this line that the entire basis for this theory has been built.  When meeting Beedle on his home island apart from Skyloft for the very first time, the player is given the option...
...to comment on his accent.
[after selecting “Your accent!”] “Hmmm? The mellifluous timbre of my voice sounds different to you?
...Perhaps a touch, I suppose... But pray, what does it matter, hmm?”
What’s important to understand about accents is how they come about to begin with: namely, slight differences in pronunciation and rhythm of speech evolve over time as the language (in this case, some form of ancient Hylian) spreads to different locations.  And of course, everyone who uses spoken language has an accent, but Link’s remarking upon Beedle’s is an indication that his pattern of speech is different from his own.  In most other games, this would be unextraordinary - but in the context of Skyward Sword, where humanity has been isolated to a (relatively speaking) small outcropping of earth in the sky, it becomes extremely noteworthy.  No one in Skyloft should have “an accent,” because theirs is a society and culture so small in scale that they should all have the same accent.  Beedle having an accent makes sense if, and only if...
...he’s not from Skyloft.
And if he’s not from Skyloft, the logical conclusion would be that he must be from the Surface.  In almost any other circumstance, this assertion would be smashed to smithereens by the sheer fact that getting to Skyloft without a Loftwing - companions blessed only to those who live in the sky - should be an unattainable feat. And yet, of all the people in Skyloft, Beedle is the only one who could have achieved such a thing... 
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...because his shop - which conveniently doubles as his house - is an electricity-powered flying machine.  Within the context of the game, such a contraption seems almost nonsensical; if he were from Skyloft, why would he not just set up shop in a permanent location?  Even if he wanted to live on a smaller island by himself, the people of Skyloft could simply use their Loftwings to reach him (which they still need to do, anyway!).  Indeed, the existence of Beedle’s Shop makes far more sense...if it already existed by the time he arrived there.
Which brings us back to that introductory cutscene.  The narrator states that Hylia gathered up all of the surviving humans (notice the use of the word humans here) onto an outcropping of earth and sent them skyward, and on a surface level, this seems straight-forward enough - but with the revelation that Beedle is very likely from the Surface himself, it’s very obvious that this is nothing more than a bold-faced lie.  Some humans were left behind - they couldn’t all possibly have fit on such a small piece of land - and those humans were the ancestors of Beedle, in some way, shape, or form.  What became of those humans is another matter altogether (one I will address briefly), as the Surface we explore in Skyward Sword is perfectly devoid of human life, barring Impa.
Now, let’s bring it back home: remember how I said that all Skyloftians have long ears?  That was a bit of a white lie, though only if you count Beedle among that number.  In truth, Beedle’s ears are obscured by the bowl cut of his hair - but this is true for every game he appears in, and the general consensus is that they’re round.  This would make Beedle the only round-eared human in the entire game...and he, coincidentally, happens to be from the Surface.
Before I go any further, I’d like to establish a very base reasoning for the existence of long-eared qualities in the human races of Hyrule.  Hylians are far from the only ones to bear long ears, what with the trait also presenting themselves in the likes of the Sheikah and, by the era of Breath of the Wild, even the Gerudo - though it is exceptionally notable that in Ocarina of Time, the Gerudo have round ears, and Ganondorf is no exception...at least, at first.
Y’see, what’s especially notable about Ganondorf is that he is the same exact character is each title he appears in, and in The Wind Waker and Twilight Princess, his ears are long.  This was actually something I only noticed quite recently, upon which I then fervently began scouring for information about his appearance in Ocarina of Time to try and make sense of it all, and the results are...very intriguing, to say the least.  Below is a comparison of Ganondorf pre-timeskip vs. post-timeskip from the original Nintendo 64 version of the game:
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As you can see, his model has changed in a number of ways, but... Well, I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.
Amazingly, his ears got longer, which is...an interesting choice from a design perspective.  Of course, it leads one to wonder why - and far and above the most significant thing to happen to him in the seven years between these two appearances is his procuring of the Triforce of Power from the Sacred Realm, a relic of the old gods.  Evil or no, Ganondorf had forged a bond with a god unlike any had before him, and for some reason, this elongated his ears - so much so that by the time of Twilight Princess and The Wind Waker, they are indistinguishable from your typical Hylian’s.  It is notable, too, that the Sheikah (who have always had long ears) also bear a special connection to the gods, living to serve Hylia and, later, her reincarnation as the princess in the Royal Family of Hyrule.  
“They say we Hylians have big ears in order to hear the voices of the gods.”
So now, keeping everything I’ve talked about here in mind, I think it appropriate to go over the series of events that likely transpired, beginning from Demise’s invasion of the surface world:
In a bid to keep the Triforce out of evil’s grasp, Hylia formulates a plan to send both it and the Goddess Sword out of harm’s way.  She selects - perhaps by chance, perhaps by choice - a not insignificant number of humans to live on this skyward isle, but naturally not all of them can make the cut.  These chosen humans would go on to found Skyloft, a land whose culture revolves heavily around the reverence of the very goddess who saved them and enabled them to live in prosperity (the existence of the Wing Ceremony, the Statue of the Goddess, etc.), while the humans who remained on the surface, left in a world scarred by war and ravaged by monsters, sought new lands, becoming the ancestors of people who would found Holodrum and Labrynna, to name a couple.  In their reverence of Hylia, the people of Skyloft would develop long ears, as even the Sheikah had - but the humans left on the surface world...would not.
That is to say, the Hylians we see in almost every major installment of the series are the direct descendants of the people of Skyloft, and round-eared humans are the descendants of the people Hylia left behind.
Of course, not all humans fled from their homeland - though we see none in-game, it’s important to remember that we also see no Sheikah aside from Impa, though we know they are great in number.  Beedle was, undoubtedly, one of these very few stragglers, and with stories of a land beyond the clouds on his mind - legends that have been passed down over countless generations - he sought to find this paradise by any means, through sheer blood, sweat, and tears (but mostly sweat, if that cycling is any indication) if necessary. In the end, he was successful, and he lives among the people of Skyloft fairly unassumingly - yet he also lives apart from them, on his own island because, at his core, he is not one of them, and never will be.  He doesn’t get all of this Hylia stuff, and frankly, he doesn’t care - so long as he can chill on his own little crop of land with a full belly, a full wallet, and his pet beetle, that’s really all that matters.
And speaking of Hylia - the reason they are called Hylians is because they are the descendants of those chosen by Hylia, even if the knowledge of Hylia’s existence has largely been lost to history by the events of Ocarina of Time and beyond.  (In a very similar vein, it is my belief that Lake Hylia also gets its name from her because the crater that would later become that very lake was formed...when she lifted a gargantuan outcropping of earth into the sky.)   Hylians largely dominate Hyrule for so much of its history because the people of Skyloft were the ones who founded it - yet by the era of Twilight Princess, we see that a great many of the humans who had moved onto different lands have slowly but surely made their way back towards the place they once called home.  
But I would be remiss to neglect to go back to Breath of the Wild; this game is a much more peculiar case, taking place in an era many millennia after any game that came before it, where reverence for Hylia is once again commonplace - so much so that statues bearing her resemblance have been erected in every town, village, and city across the country.  Humans are once again practically nowhere to be seen (except, again, perhaps for Beedle), and even the Gerudo, who have now long intermingled with Hylians for the sake of having children, have inherited the trait (perhaps in part due to the fact that some of their own may worship Hylia, if the statue in Gerudo Town is any indication).  In every single instance, no matter where you turn, these long ears seem to be a direct correlation to the people’s connection to the gods of Hyrule - but rather than their ears being a predetermined factor in how strong this connection may be, it seems that their faith is what influences this trait to rise to the surface, over how ever many generations or centuries that just might take.  (Ganondorf Dragmire, who lives in a castle and inherited a relic of pure godly power, is an outlier and should not be counted.)  As Shad so eloquently states in Twilight Princess:
“Hyrule was made by the Hylians, who, as we all know, are the closest race to the gods.”
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And as long as we’re talking about Shad, I’d love to begin wrapping up this post by bringing things round to Twilight Princess once more - specifically the context in which Shad says the above quote, which is far and away one of the most peculiar instances of casual lore-dumping in the entire series.  The quote in its entirety from the North American version of the game reads thusly:
“At the moment I'm absolutely entranced by the sky beings known as the Oocca. Yes, according to legend, Hyrule was made by the Hylians [...] But also according to legend, long ago there was a race even closer to the gods, and some say these creatures made the Hylians. When they created the people of Hylia, they simultaneously created a new capital, a city that floated in the heavens.”
What Shad is saying here is extremely farfetched, particularly for those of us who are familiar with the Oocca.  But in truth, this was a minor mistranslation on Nintendo of America’s part; the original text from the Japanese version of the game clears actually reads much more like this, when translated correctly:
“The common opinion is that Hyrule was created by the Hylia people, the race closest to the gods, but...truth be told, there's also a theory saying that in ancient times, there was a race even closer to the gods than the Hylia people, and THEY created it [Hyrule]. And they, simultaneously with the birth of the Hylia people, created a new capital, a capital that floated in the heavens.”
So the Oocca - the bizarre, Cucco-like creatures who inhabit the City in the Sky - did not create the Hylians, but rather established the kingdom of Hyrule itself in the world that the goddesses created.  But even with this mistranslation squared away, that still sounds incredibly odd, especially taking the events of Skyward Sword into account; we know that the people of Skyloft are the ones who inevitably found Hyrule, because we see the beginnings of this happening at the end of the game.  Funnily enough, it seems that the very line that was mistranslated in the North American version of the game...was the result of mistranslation itself.
In-universe mistranslation, that is.  Millennia of history being told, written, lost, and found, translated again and again and again, until it barely resembles its original state.  What likely happened was that the Oocca, who live in the sky, were wrongly credited with the creation of Hyrule because the Hylian people who would go on the found Hyrule also came from the sky, as they were the people of Skyloft.  Shad’s claim that the Oocca were “a race even closer to the gods" than the Hylians may not be entirely unfounded, however, as it is incredibly likely like the City in the Sky we see in Twilight Princess is what remained of Skyloft after its human inhabitants abandoned it; the Loftwings that the people of Skyloft had for so long relied on would go on to evolve into more sentient beings, suspending the city above the clouds long after Hylia’s magic had worn off - and Loftwings were, as the people of Skyloft believed, beings bestowed upon them as a symbol of the goddess’s divine blessing.  In this sense, it is somewhat true that the City in the Sky and the Hylians were created at the same time; when the Skyloftians abandoned their home to live in a new land where they were not long after christened the Hylians, the skyward isle that they had left behind found a new purpose, and a new “city” was born.
Of course, maybe Shad was off his marbles (even if the Oocca are evolved Loftwings, there is still much about them and their connection to the Sheikah that remains shrouded in mystery), but the crux of this entire narrative is that the people of Hylia, the Hylians - at least, up until Breath of the Wild is concerned - were the descendants of the people of Skyloft, and Beedle’s eccentricities in the context of Skyward Sword are rather convincing pieces of evidence that this did not comprise all people of the formerly-known-as “Land of Hylia.”  It is therefore only natural that a conclusion could be drawn about where the distinction between the two peoples comes from.
But in the end, even if this can answer the question of why there are round-eared humans alongside long-eared ones, it does not answer the ultimate question of what this distinction means.  Why does a connection with and a faith in the gods elongate the ears of the people it touches?  The Zelda Encyclopedia states that “in the past, Hylians were able to wield magic of considerable might,” a trait that could possibly distinguish them from your typical human being - but the canon nature of the Encyclopedia is...shaky*, at best, and downright disrespectful at worst.  Link and Zelda are two Hylians we see wielding abnormal abilities, but their power can be explained with their respective pieces of the Triforce, not to mention the countless magic users in Hyrule and beyond who aren’t Hylian.  Even if there was a time when the Hylians had special abilities, those abilities have long since faded. They are no no taller, no smaller, live no longer than their round-eared counterparts; they are, in every aspect aside from the length of their ears, in every way identical.  To finish the quote by the unnamed Hylian man who speaks to a young Link in the Castle Town Market in Ocarina of Time:
“They say we Hylians have big ears in order to hear the voices of the gods...but I've never heard them!”
So...there you have it.  I must admit that it is entirely possible that the people of Skyloft had developed long ears before their ancestors had been sent to the heavens - after all, the Sealed Temple was, in millennia past, a temple erected in her honor.  Yet this would also make the story of Hylia gathering the “surviving humans” in order to save them all the more grim; could the gods be so callous as to save only those who respect their divine might? One cannot help but think of the Great Sea in The Wind Waker - for in a world populated by the descendants of those who were chosen by the gods to survive the coming floods, it is difficult not to notice that ears of the round variety are once again nowhere to be found.
And yet, when you get right down to it - though some Hylians seem to rely on their lineage as “the closest race to the gods” to maintain an image of self-importance - the difference between a long-eared Hylian and a round-eared human appears to be, ultimately...only that.  And unless we see our round-eared friends return in a potentially future title, and the difference remarked upon, that will likely be how things remain.
Until that time, I will continue to do my best to fill the gaps with which we have been left - even if, at the end of the day, I’ve written nothing more than a meaningless, nine-page word jumble...about ears.
EDIT (5/9/2020): It has been brought to my attention (courtesy of @heartenvy​​) that there is a mild inconsistency with the narrative that Beedle could be from the Surface: namely, the “unbreachable” Cloud Barrier, something Hylia herself created to divide Skyloft from the Surface and keep its inhabitants and the Triforce safe.  However, I would argue that the Cloud Barrier is not a physical barrier so much as it is a mystical one, meant to both keep its location secret (the barrier itself is completely invisible from the Surface) and to ensure the people of Skyloft remain complacent in their isolation (believing Skyloft is all there is, they remain there, and in so doing their long-forgotten secrets are kept safe). Zelda is pulled through it long before any proper portals are actually opened, and I would argue that the portals (that is, the pillars of light that appear when we place the corresponding tablets) are largely a gameplay mechanic meant to keep the story linear, as in a real setting Link would have simply ridden his Loftwing to and from the Surface and would have been able to fly anywhere he chose.  It’s possible the barrier acts to keep out evildoers, specifically (which would explain why Ghirahim had to summon a vortex to pull Zelda through it, where he could reach her), or, not unlike the Isla de Muerta in Pirates of the Caribbean, Skyloft could very well be “an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is” - which, to me, makes the narrative of Beedle finding his way there all the more entertaining (the dude must have been, like, super determined).  In any case, I stand by what I’ve stated before: that Beedle is from the Surface, as his accent and the peculiarities of his shop make too strong a case to ignore.
*              *              *              *              *
*The Zelda Encyclopedia states that Termina is a Dream World, despite Link’s Awakening having already done this and in a much more satisfying way.  I can’t take anything it says seriously.
(Special thanks to @ghiirahiims​​ for the high-res screenshot of Beedle, and shoutout to @gaybellatrix​​ for in no small part convincing me to finally sit down and write this all up.)
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imomomi · 4 years
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A/N: This is part of a BTS x Haikyuu collab, the masterlist can be found here and inspired by the song Serendipity.
Summary: Kuroo’s life was meant to be simple. Go to Nationals, try to win, and get into a good college. But, it all goes haywire when Kenma brings a cat to practice. Now, Kuroo must rethink everything he knew about life and himself.
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         Rain pattered on the windows of Gym B as the team stretched. Kuroo looked around the gym wondering what was holding Kenma up. It was unusual for him to be late or skip practice, but the rain might have contributed to the slight cold he’d been developing over the last week. Kuroo wondered if it was better to cancel their Friday practice and give everyone the chance to get home before the storm got any worse. Coach Nekomata would most likely agree.
          The gym doors open with a bang and a roll of thunder echoing from outside. The noise and flash of lightening that followed sent his heart into his mouth. Kenma entered, not a drop of water on him despite the heavy rain. Nestled in his arms rested a sleeping cat. Its gray fur gleamed unnaturally beneath the gym lights.
          The sight of their setter cooing softly to the cat sent a whirl of enthusiasm through the team, especially Lev who jumped towards Kenma long limbs shaking with excitement.
          “Let me see,” he demanded, attempting to snatch the cat out of Kenma’s hands. Kenma dodged him easily, but the cat startled and lept out of his hands. It strode slowly across the gym floor, coming to a stop between Yaku and Kuroo.
          “Leave her alone, Lev,” said Kenma. A sharp slap filled the air and Lev hissed, rubbing at his stinging hand. “She was lost, I couldn’t just leave her.”
           Kuroo knelt and held a hand towards the cat to coax her forward. She stared at the limb curiously and then sat on her back legs, holding her own paw up. He was shocked with the paw tapped against his palm as if high fiving him.
           “She did that to me too,” said Kenma softly. The cat jumped at the sound of his voice, jumping over Kuroo’s outstretched towards Kenma. She settled at his feet, tail wrapping around his ankle.
           “She’s smart,” said Kuroo. Kenma hummed, nodding in agreement.
           “You need to take Fuku home,” said Kenma. Lucky. There was something cute about Kenma naming a cat that.
           “What? Why?”
           “My mom won’t let her stay. And…I found her curled up in your jacket.”
           “I can’t take her home! Where is she going to stay?”
           “It’s just for a couple of days, until we find a new home for her.”
           Kuroo looked down at the cat. Bright gold eyes met his. He knew whatever fight he would put up, Kenma had an answer for. Outside the storm raged on. The smell of rain wafted into the gym. The rumble of lightening sounded like the purr of a cat.
           “You’ll behave, won’t you?” He rubbed the spot between Fuku’s ears. The cat didn’t respond, but her nose twitched and filled Kuroo with an uneasy sense of foreboding.
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           A couple of days turned into weeks. Kuroo kept the act up and asked Kenma day after day if he had found a new owner. But, part of him was growing used to having Fuku there. Each day, she would wake before him, padding quietly across his room to burrow in his sock drawer. Sometimes he let her out when he went on a run. When he came back, she’d sit on their roof snacking on fish or dried squid. Other days, Fuku would follow him and Kenma to school. Though she never rode the train with them, he would find her wandering the grounds during lunch.
           Kuroo wondered if Kenma had done it on purpose. At home, Kuroo was often alone. His grandparents would take day trips to visit their various friends and his father worked late. Talking to a cat was a step closer to insanity, but it was nice having someone to vent too, even if she couldn’t quiet respond.
           He liked it most when Fuku would curl next to him on the bed, her gaze focused on his books as if she understood the words printed on the page. Sometimes he would read aloud to break the silence. It was a calm and quiet peace that he hadn’t known he was lacking.
           Today, Fuku rested on his bed, curled around one of his old sweatshirts. She pawed at the logo curiously.
           “Nekoma. Like you, neko-chan. I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”
           A head tilt.
           “Yeah, I know. I don’t seem like the type to be responsible and all that, but you’d be surprised.”
           She lept from the bed, skidding across his desk. The poster he had been working on—why didn’t they have a manager?!—crumbled under her paws.
           “Shit,” he cursed. Annoyance flared. Sometimes Fuku did things like this; whatever luck her name brought must have been buried deep. “I need that for fundraising.”
           The cat blinked and stretched, crunching the poster even more. He had the weird feeling that, she had done it deliberately to annoy him with an apathetic air of calm.
            He needed new friends…and a new cat.
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           Wind blew into the empty classroom as Kuroo unlocked the latch on the windows. He’d offered to clean, only to avoid being too early to practice. Last time, he’d shown up on time, Yaku had spent a half hour mocking him for being more of an old man than Coach Nekomata. Chalk dug into his cuticles. A healthy layer of dust stuck to the front of his sweater. The classroom had last been cleaned by Tsubaki Ayumi, a girl who did her homework seconds before their sensei walked in. She cleaned in the same fashion, pushing crumbs beneath desks and under the bookshelf. Kuroo found his annoyance growing.
           The trees rustled. A fresh flutter of petals fell onto the window ledge from the blossoming trees outside. But, something else stuck between the trees. Kuroo narrowed his eyes. Was that someone’s jumper?
           “Hello,” a voice called. Kuroo looked up and jumped back. A girl was hanging from the ledge of the window, smiling at him.
           “Wh….what? Who are you?”
           “That’s not very nice.” she said. One of her hands left the ledge to pull her hair away from her face and his heart lurched out of his chest.
           “Are you insane? You’ll fall!” he shouted, jumping to grab her wrist and pull her into the classroom. She was wearing their school uniform, and Kuroo vaguely knew he had seen her at Nekoma before. She fell into the classroom face front and hissed.
           A poster was thrust into his hands. “Have you seen this cat?”
           “Who are you? How did you climb that high?”
           “I didn’t climb up. I climbed down from the roof.”
           “What year are you in? Which homeroom? You can’t just do that!”
           Her head tilted, “We’re in the same class.”
           His hands twisted in his hair. Tie loosened; blazer tossed over the back of his chair. Her knees were scrapped, stockings bloodied. On his seventh birthday, he had climbed the tallest tree in his backyard and had gotten stuck for an hour. His father had come home to find him crying on the back porch cut up from sliding down the trunk of the tree. He peered at the girl’s face, the little cuts on her cheeks and looked at the tree outside their classroom. Had she really climbed down from the roof?
           “I’ll take you to the nurse. Come on,” he said. She jumped as he moved, almost frightened by his tallness. But she followed. Her nose stuck high in the air and her steps were light and airy.
           “Kuroo-san, my cat?”
           “What’s your name?”
           “My name?” she murmured. Her fingers traced a pattern on her temple. “We’ve been in the same class for three years. Four, if you count Junior High.”
           He looked at her for a long while. Kuroo wasn’t the type to forget people and someone like her didn’t seem like the type to be easily overlooked. Guilt swirled and he tried his hardest to think of her name. He usually avoided the girls in class. Not that there was something wrong with them, they just had a vision of him in their heads that was often outlandish compared to his actual personality.
           “It’s alright, Kuroo-san.”
           “Kuroo? Y/N?” Kai entered the classroom, looking surprised to find the two of them together. Y/N jerked back. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her skirt as if it will somehow hide her scrapped knees.
           “Y/N? Oh, you’re the one…” he trailed off. The one whose mother had died. His unspoken words shook in the air. A pure longing to flee the room filled him. Kai spared him a pitying glance and guided Y/N out of the room.
           Their teacher warned them not to bring it up to Y/N who returned from a week’s absence looking pale and withdrawn. Kuroo had never really noticed her. Silent was a word he rarely associated with people, but Y/N had always been like that. His memories of her were sparse at best. But once in their second year, she had freaked out when one of the other boys stole her confession letter and read it aloud. No one really remembered who she was trying to confess too, but everyone remembered the bruise on that had bloomed on Takashi’s face after she punched him.
           Now, everyone remembered her because of her dead mother.
           He looked down at the poster and let out a loud groan. Only he had this type of luck. The cat staring up at him was Fuku.
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           Kenma disappeared behind the door, shutting it softly behind him. Y/N and Kuroo stood silently beside one another, looking at the door for a moment. Y/N swallowed, turning away and starting to walk forward. Kuroo walked beside her, bag swinging from his arm with a casual grace. Alone and far from her earlier mania, Y/N was increasingly shy. She seemed almost embarrassed by her actions.
           “Come on,” said Kuroo.
           “I’m sorry,” she shook her head sharply, hands tightening into fists at her side, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just worried about Fuku.”
           Y/N glanced down at her wrist, which was slightly swollen and a raw red that would surely give way to a bruise come morning. Kuroo was quiet; so was Y/N. Both trapped within their own minds, riding spiraling thoughts.
        “Can I ask—” Y/N lifted her gaze and met his. He hesitated and then rambled forth, “—what’s so special about the cat?”
           “Of course, you can.” Silence. He stared at her. She stared back. “Oh, that was you asking.”
           “Yeah.” A smile tugged at his lips.
           “Fuku is lucky.”
           “That’s it?”
           “Well, I hardly know you.”
           “Fair enough.”
           “Hmm.”
           “So, Kai and you seem to get along. Have you been friends long?”
           “Since first year.”
           “That’s nice. Bet he asked you to come to a ton of volleyball games.”
           “Uhh, no, not really.”
           This was awkward. Too awkward. What did he say? Volleyball was his usual go-to topic, but she seemed uninterested. The sky above them was overcast and gray, dark clouds edging over the horizon. His grandfather should be home. Maybe, they could offer Y/N a ride if it started raining, but he hoped that she would be gone before then.
          “Kuroo, you’ve never had a girlfriend, have you?” she said. A stunned look came over his face as his mouth fell open slightly. Nonsensical words fell from his mouth as he attempted to stutter out an answer. Y/N scrunched her nose.
          “What? Why are you asking that?”
          “Hinako—she’s the class president—always says you’re ‘very mature’ when we’re in the locker room, but you’re kinda odd.”
          Heat spread across his nose and cheeks. If the world worked the way he wanted it to, it would open up and swallow him at this moment. They stopped in front of a tall narrow house that hid a wide backyard. His grandmother was seated on the front stairs, tending to a pot of roses. She looked up as they approached. Her eyes flickered towards Y/N and back to him; a wide smile stretched across her face.
          “Tetsu, did you bring a friend over?”
          Y/N bowed low. “I’m L/N Y/N. Kuroo-san found my cat Fuku. I’m sorry if she caused you any trouble the last few weeks.”
          “She’s been the sweetest cat,” she stood and stretched. “Come inside, have you eaten? I hope Tetsurou hasn’t been making any trouble for you.”
          “Obaa-chan, she’s going to get Fuku and leaving,” Kuroo groaned. His grandmother paid no attention to his words. She dusted off her apron and ushered Y/N into the house. He followed behind slowly. His grandfather was seated on the floor, watching a game of football on the television. The sharp, crisp smell of lemon filled his nose. The floors are still slightly wet from when his grandmother had cleaned them.
          “Oi, Tetsu, a girl?”
          “No, Ojii-san. She’s here for Fuku.”
          From the kitchen, he heard the crack of an egg and the sizzle of butter. Y/N would not leave without a full belly. Y/N was telling a shortened version of her story. He winced when Y/N mentioned having gone to Junior High with him. There would be no end to the questions later.
           “A cat?”
           “Her cat. Climbed a tree and everything looking for her. I almost had a heart attack when she came by our classroom window.”
           His grandfather laughed: a laugh that immediately warmed the room.
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            “Fuku,” crooned Y/N. The cat hissed and crawled underneath his bed. Y/N followed. In his head, he ran over the last time he had cleaned his room. Hadn’t Kenma thrown his ramen cups down there at one point? Kuroo had the nasty habit of leaving his laundry everywhere. He prayed that all his underwear were in the hamper.
          “Ahh, fuck. Ow…”
          “You ok?”
          She wiggled out from under the bed, a thin layer of dust covered her uniform and hair. Her cheeks puffed out and Y/N held her arm out to him, showing the red scratches that now covered her arm.
          “Is she not your cat?”
          “She is. It’s Fuku…she’s being difficult.”
          He didn’t quiet understand. A cat was a cat, it exhibited certain animalistic behaviors, but it was still domesticated. Fuku never really scratched anything, just the occasional paper and bedsheet. Why would she attack Y/N? Ruby ran over the slightly swollen cuts. It was on her wrist too, the one she had hurt climbing the tree at school.
          “Shit—sit by my desk. I’ll get you some band aids.”
          “It’s alright. Fuku didn’t scratch that deep. I think she’s had a bit of trouble recognizing me after being gone for so long.” Her voice was brittle, caught with unshed tears. There was a story behind the cat that Y/N wasn’t ready to share that. Kuroo should be more curious, but he’s still reeling for the girl who emerged at dinner—funny and sharing stories with his grandfather that are equally rowdy as the best of his.
          Fuku crawled out from under the bed, padding to his side. Her tail wrapped around his ankle. Kuroo bent and picked her up, holding her out to Y/N. Fuku struggled in his grip and escaped the moment his hands loosened.
          Y/N’s face fell. Kuroo’s sure he wasn’t meant to catch the flash of genuine distress that crossed her face.
          “I think it’s best she stays here for the night,” Y/N said. Her earlier merriment has all but faded. “Can I try again tomorrow?”
          Kuroo doesn’t think twice before agreeing.
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          “Dad?” she called. No answer. The door was locked, his shoes gone.
          Y/N had not seen her father for many days. Since her mother had died, he had become a ghost. Coming and going at odd hours. Choosing to sleep in his office rather than his bedroom. There are nights when she woke and found him pouring over old photo albums. She despised his silence and hated her own cowardness. She cannot put a name to the feeling that cropped up when her thoughts wondered to her mother. Her stomach pulled and tugged, and she felt ready to shout. Even school and her books were not enough to distract her.
           What she really wanted was her mother back. Instead, she lived in a quiet state of discomfort, torn between aiding her grieving father and acknowledging that her mother was gone.
           She ventured further into the house. Everything was a reminder of her mother. The wallpaper redone when they first learned of her illness. The couches belonged to her mother’s mother. The kitchen sat unused for many months. Y/N did not know how to cook and most of her afternoons were spent in the hospital by her mother’s side. It was unfair that she had to face the reminder every day while her father hid from it.
           “Guess, it’s just me,” Y/N muttered. Fuku’s water bowl evaporated in the weeks she was gone. Y/N shuffled toward the kitchen and took a water pitcher to refill it. One day, she would come back. Y/N would pry her out of Kuroo’s hands if she had too.
           Five years ago, her mother had arrived home, soaked and sniffling with a tiny kitten clutched between her hands. Y/N’s father, half exasperated, half charmed, scolded her as he helped her warm up. They seemed so content with one another and lost in a world only the two of them knew. When Y/N remembered her parents together, she remembered that day.
           Maybe that was why she felt so desperate to get Fuku back. Fuku was just a cat, but she held a small piece of what Y/N had lost. Her life had become disjointed fragments that Y/N couldn’t reassemble.
           Some days slid by in a haze: warm, cold, good, and bad. She felt as if she had lost something greater than just her mother. A piece of her had shriveled. She tossed her jacket on the couch. She climbed the stairs. She slept and woke again. The same endless cycle.
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           He missed the train that morning. Kenma was down with a slight fever and his stop at the convenience store to pick up medicine had set his schedule off. Now, trapped between a crowd of salarymen, Kuroo tried to inch forward. If he missed this train, he would miss morning practice entirely.
           The hiss and rumble of a train engine was a sound that normally would put Kuroo to sleep. On long trips they took to training camps or practice matches, he looked forward to the naps he’d take on the train. Though it was rare that he could sleep for longer than an hour, given his team.
           His eyes skim the platform, stopping on a familiar figure. So, Y/N took this train too. His father attempted to drive her home last night, but she insisted that she lived nearby and left in such a hurry that Kuroo got scolded for letting her go alone.
He thought that she looked lonely. Hadn’t he looked like that too once? Before he met Kenma, Kuroo was shy and nervous. Tokyo was huge, full of smoke and buildings taller than any Kuroo had ever seen. And, his mother was gone. It was years since he thought of his early grief over her death. His grandparents, father, and friends all helped ease the pain.
A train passed by; a gust of hot wind followed its trail. Kuroo inched forward. Y/N still hadn’t seen him. Her head was tucked down, nose buried in a thick book. What a nerd.
           “L/N?” he called.
           She didn’t react. The page flipped. Kuroo hovered near her awkwardly. She liked her cat, maybe that would get her talking.  Or he could scare her. As he’s about to creep next to her, her gaze lifted and met his. Kuroo coughed and pressed his hands behind his back.
           “You look like a con-man,” said Y/N.
           Kuroo’s face twisted, “Ehh, I swear you’re out to get me or something.”
           “No, I just pay attention. It’s not hard.” The book snapped closed. The corners of her eyes tightened. “How is Fuku?”
           “Are you still mad she likes me more than you?”
           Her lips pursed. “She does not!”
           “I’m pretty sure she wanted to stay with me. Maybe you’re a dog person?”
           “I’m not having this conversation with you. Why are you taking this train? Where is Kozume-san?”
           “Are you a stalker? Cause, I don’t have any kind of inheritance or anything. My death will be worth nothing.”
           “No. I take the same train and you’re incredibly loud. Far too loud for the morning.”
           “Late start?”
           “I was up late.”
          Their train pulled into the station. A swarm of people step on, all dressed in various suits and ties, heading deeper into the city where they’ll work until sunset. Kuroo pressed his hand against the door and let Y/N step in first. That was the day Kuroo and Y/N became friends. Kuroo never truly knew how much she needed someone those days.
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           Their friendship came like a crack in a dam, first a slow trickle of water than all at once. Kuroo was slightly stunned by how seamlessly Y/N fit into his life. There are times when he’s surprised by aspects of her personality. A ruthlessness came out during their economics classes and they’ve become known for their frequent debates during history. Y/N took her lunches with Kai or her other friends, but there are days when she joined him and Kenma, exchanging quick words over coding, game theory and design.
           One Monday, he dropped a smoothie by her desk. He’d never seen her drink anything but her bottled green tea, but it felt like the right thing to do that morning.
           “I’m not letting you copy my homework,” she said, dryly, “What’s in this?”
           “Strawberry, apple, ginger and spinach.”
           “Sounds disgusting healthy,” she said. Taking a sip, she made a face at the sharp aftertaste of ginger. “Do you actually need the homework?”
           “This is a college prep class, we’re not all slackers,” he said. He knocked his knuckles on her desk, pulling a sheet of her math homework over and flapping it in the air. She grimaced, remembering the half an hour she spent trying to figure out why her answer to number seven was wrong.
           “Just checking,” she answered, snatching the worn sheet back and tucking it into her folder.
           “Wanna be our manager?” he asked. The words slipped out before he realized, but Kuroo didn’t regret asking.
           “Really?”
           He thought about it. “Yeah, it’d be nice to have someone help with all the planning.”
           “But shouldn’t you ask your team first?”
           “I’m the captain. Yaku and Kai already know you, Kenma too.”
          Y/N didn’t look like she would say no. In fact, she seemed a bit pleased at being asked. Someone—Takashi no doubt—knocked his bag over as they made their way to their seat. He didn’t get an answer, but Kuroo formulated a plan to get her to do it. He had a feeling that Coach Nekomata would help her, the same way he had helped Kuroo—or maybe being around the team would take away some of the despair that crossed her face when she thought he wasn’t looking.
          “I have a question,” she said, leaning forward. Her eyes gave nothing away. The flat line of her mouth reminded him of her expression when she came across a particularly hard math problem.
           “Well, what is it?”
           “What’s with the hair?” she asked flatly. Instinctively, his hand rose up to try and flatten the mess. Bedhead. A case so severe he’d never figured out just what to do with it. Rumors had spread around the school about his nighttime activities giving him an unsavory reputation when it came to dating. None of it was true, but once the rumors had started, there was no real way to end them. The truth was that his hair was a result of too many pillows and constant movement while sleeping.
           “It’s not what you think,” he blurted out. “I’ve tried to get rid of it. Nothing works. I live my life in a constant state of dishevelment.”
           “Just sleep like a normal person?” she suggested.
           “I do!”
           “Of course, you do.”      
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            “What are you doing here?” Kuroo asked. The look of mock surprise fell away and a slow smirk grew on his face. “Curiosity finally go to you?” he asked.
           Y/N didn’t answer, waving her hand in the air to draw him closer. He pointed at himself, mocking her silent request. She did it again, rolling her eyes as he slowly sauntered forward.
           “Closer,” she murmured. He inched nearer; body angled toward her. Before he could dodge, her fingers latched onto his ear, pulling him down to her level. A yelp left his mouth, and his body twitched, trying to get away from her hands.
           “Did I agree to be your manager?”
           “That hurts,” he whined. She let him go, cheeks puffing out in annoyance. Nekoma had been a volleyball powerhouse for years, but they had an astonishingly bad record when it came to keeping a manager. Having witnessed his teammates practice, it was no wonder why. They were loud, rambunctious and whoever was their manager needed to be able to deal with the multiple personalities that were on the team. Dodging Kuroo’s insanity, Yaku’s temper, Lev’s wild arms, and the rogue spikes that would no doubt leave bruises was too much for any one person.
           “First fight?” Yaku muttered, passing by them. Y/N stuck up her middle finger which he mimicked seconds later, sending a mocking smile in her direction.
           “So, you’ll do it?” Kuroo asked, drawing her attention back to him. “We don’t expect you to show up to every practice. I know you have your own stuff to deal with afterschool and we don’t want to get in the way of that. But having someone at our games to help out would be better than nothing.”
           “What’s in it for me?”
           “Other than getting to spend more time with me?”
           “Yes, other than that,” she said, rolling her eyes. Kuroo’s smile fell, lips twisting to the side. Pressing a hand to her shoulder, he leaned down, so they were eye-level. She wondered if there was some spirit in Nekoma that lent that cat-like glint to everyone’s eyes or if it was an aftereffect of spending so much time at the school.
           “Think of your college resume,” he said seriously.
           “That just makes me want to say no.” A soft laugh left her, nose scrunching.
           “What do you want then?”
           “I don’t know yet.”
           “When you do, let me know. I’ll make sure you get it, whatever it is,” he promised.
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           The air in Tokyo was crisp and brought with it the sweet smell of summer and freshly burnt wood. The sun inched past the horizon, giving way to the thick velvet of a star strewn sky. Y/N pulled her jacket closer, looking at the rising form of Tokyo’s Skytree. The streets seemed so familiar it left her with the annoying nag of déjà vu. Curling her fingers into her fist, Y/N pushed away the familiar ache of pain that she often ignored.
           Her father walked on ahead of her, head hanging low, shoulders slumped. In a couple of months, Y/N would reach the one-year mark. One year without her mother and then the gap would grow. She’d never admit to her father, that there were times where she missed her mother so much that she was left with a void of sorrow that did nothing but grow endlessly. He missed her too. It was strewn across his face at the oddest of moments. Once when he had been scolding her for coming home late after practice, he had stopped in the middle, face sagging with grief. Those looks seared into Y/N’s mind, reminding her at every moment just how much they had lost.
           “It should be up here,” he muttered, turning to face her with a small smile. Y/N nodded, mutely. Following his quick strides, she pushed her hands into her pockets, poking one finger out of the forgotten hole. A trail of lanterns began to light the sky. Her father paused, offering her his shaking hand. Grasping it tightly, she linked elbows with him, pressing against his side.
           A small temple was tucked away into an old square that was a remnant of the days before Tokyo had been made capital. The streets were lined with stalls, selling fishcakes, yakitori, and other festival foods. All around them families dressed in summer yukatas passed. The smell of burning fires wafted in the air. Y/N felt slightly undressed. Ahead, waiting between the gate of the temple was a familiar figure.
           “Kuroo?” she asked. He stood at the entrance of the temple with his family. Both of his grandparents were wearing yukata, heavily embroidered but made of thin fabrics.
           “Oi, Y/N—” He froze at the sight of her father and offered a quick, polite bow. “You should have said you were coming; I would have waited for you.”
           “I…my father and I wanted to come together.”
           “Is this a classmate?” her father asked.
           “Kuroo Tetsurou, sir. Y/N and I are friends.”
           “He’s the one who found Fuku,” said Y/N. Her father frowned. She wondered if he also missed their cat. Or maybe, he was startled by the news that Fuku had been missing.
           “I’ll go ahead, Y/N,” he said. Before she could stop him, her father disappeared up the steps of the temple. Y/N sighed.
           Kuroo stared at her, his brows pinched together. “Is everything alright?”
           “It’s our first time coming without my mother,” she explained, wringing her hands nervously. Understanding flickered across Kuroo’s face. Hands, slightly calloused but smooth, pressed over hers. The warm touch anchored her. Y/N breathed sharply, instantly seeking out the broken bits of comfort she could find. It wasn’t fair to Kuroo though, to burden him with her grief. She pulled away.
           “Y/N.”
           She looked in the distance where the shadow of her father stalked.
           “Look at me.”
           “I should go.”
           “My mom died when I was seven.”
           She froze. Kuroo moved closer, calm but steady as if trying to stop a wild animal from fleeing. She felt like that; caught in the snare of his words.
           “We can’t compare griefs. But, when I lost her, I felt like the world had shattered. You don’t need to pretend to be happy…not with me.”
           Her lip quivered. She said in a small voice, “I miss her.”
         The sun burned past the horizon; around them a thousand voices spoke over one another. Kuroo stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug. She breathed in sharply and held on tight, as if to trap his comfort in her grip. Thank you, she wanted to say. Kuroo swayed slightly and she knew that he could hear her unspoken words.
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            Y/N did not become their manager. Not officially at least. She tended to show up to practice only to follow him home and attempt to coax Fuku into coming home with her. The day she succeeded was bright and sunny. Kuroo was half listening to her story about how Yamamoto and Kenma had been fighting while he was in the locker rooms.
           His mind was spirling down a dangerous path. Kuroo found himself entirely focused on Y/N. He doesn’t understand why. She didn’t seem remotely interested in him. He had no time to waste, twisting his throughs over a girl. But, as much as he tried to avoid thinking of her that way, he found himself entertaining the same line of thought over and over again.
           “Sorry what?” he asked, realizing that she was waiting for an answer.
           Y/N laughed. “Coach Nekomata told me you had a training camp?”
           “Oh, yeah. If you come, you can finally meet Bokuto. And Tsukki. And all the rest.”
           “How tempting, me and a bunch of mangers cleaning up your sweat.”
As they reached his house, Y/N bounded forward to greet his grandmother. Sometimes he was convinced she was only friends with him, so she would be fed. The amount of bentos he had brought to school for her exceeded normal standards.
           “Obaa-san, it isn’t good for you back to be hunched over the plants like that,” Y/N scolded. She helped his grandmother up the stairs, chatting all the while.
           Kuroo followed them into the house. Y/N didn’t bother going upstairs first. While her mother was sick, Y/N had been home alone often and forced to cook. Sheepishly, she admitted she wasn’t any good at it and his grandmother had taken pity on her.
           Occasionally, Kenma and the team came over to try her latest creations. They were lucky they weren’t subjected to the daily disasters he was. Once they are fed and watered, Kuroo and her ventured upstairs. His grandfather tossed a wicked look his way as they head toward his room.
           Fuku was surprisingly receptive to Y/N and approached her on her own. Usually, Kuroo would need to pick her up first and give her to Y/N.
           “Fuku, come on, girl. Don’t you want to eat tuna at home?” Y/N said. Fuku inched closer and then clawed at Y/N’s tights. Surprise and then a bright smile stretched on her face.
           She picked up Fuku, cooing all the while the way a mother did with her child. It felt like the ending of a book.
           But, Y/N looked happy for the first time she had met him. Not the fake happiness she wore like a mask. He found himself grinning for no good reason, other than she had smiled. While she was distracted, he studied her face committing it to memory. Eyes brighter than the stars, deeper than water, and lined with affection. Going forward, he hoped that she looked like this all the time.
           “Y/N, you’re happy, aren’t you?”
           “Right now?” She turned and lifted Fuku up into her arms. She softened her expression, crackling with a warm energy. “You make me happy, Kuroo.”
           It slowly dawned on him that while he was staring, she had caught his gaze. Lost in his thoughts, he felt no embarrassment, nor did Y/N look upset. It looked more like she was waiting for something.
           He wanted to tell her that he liked her—not the way one like a friend, but he liked the way she spoke, every word measured and certain. Or the way she remembered things he had mentioned only once. Or the way she knew what he was asking before he asked her. He liked her calmness, her banter, how she would do anything for the things she loved, and the slight madness that he both encouraged and hated. His words failed him.
           Kuroo didn’t want anything to change. If he told her and she rejected him, would their friendship be over? Besides, what could he offer her? Y/N still grieved over her mother. What kind of man would he be to take advantage of that for his own gain?
           He closed his eyes for a moment. Y/N sat next to him on the bed and rested her head on his shoulder. Fuku curled up in her arms. Her closeness was the sweetest, bitterest thing he had ever known.
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joheun-saram · 4 years
Text
To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 04
Chapter 4: Cigarette Confetti
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Summary- Y/N and Namjoon get closer as their relationship develops. Also, Y/N suddenly gets too many instagram followers
word count- 8.6k
pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader
rating- R
genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers
warnings- unwanted sexual advances, discussion of mindset post unwanted advances, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m. receiving), hickeys
a.n- okay so this chapter is finally done! Thank you for your patience!! It took me a long time to write the scene with Mr Li because I had to pull from my own experience and that was uncomfy - but I hope you like it. Also, there’s a time skip so keep an eye out for that. Also also, can I just say I love writing this character of Namjoon lol this character is my ideal boyfriend material LMFAO.
Hey Alexa, can you fall in love with your own fictional character? Asking for a friend. Thanks.
Feedback much appreciated! 💕
taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut​, @rjsmochii​, @jinjccns, @joyful-jimin
-
Good morning, Y/N. Today you have four appointments on your calendar. Your first three appointments are as follows. At 7:30am, you have “Morning stand up with Harry (Cancelled)”, at 12:00pm, you have “Jiyoung Gala Update Lunch”, at 2:00pm, you have “Quarterly Sales Meeting”. The weather in Seoul today is 24 degrees and cloudy. Playing BTS on Spotify.
Namjoon wakes up with a start, Jimin’s airy vocals flowing through the room. He’s confused as to why someone in the dorm was playing their old album. About to scream at whoever (probably Taehyung) was playing the music, he opens his eyes to find your face next to his. It takes him a few seconds to realize where he is, and his face breaks into a goofy grin as he recalls the events of the night before. His arm was numb where you lay on it, your arms around his waist, legs tangled together and he traced his fingers on your side in an effort to wake you up.
He could see you stir as you groggily opened your eyes, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart race. He reached to stroke your face, as you hummed an apology and politely asked your alarm to be quiet. Seems that you were nice even to your robots.
“Sorry about that. Work day, you know?” you shrugged as you snuggled closer. Namjoon couldn’t help chuckle as you yawned into his bare chest that erupted in goosebumps at the sensation. He gently pulled your chin towards him to kiss you good morning. Your face was puffy with sleep, your cheeks squished where they lay on the pillows, and watching you was so adorable that he wanted to wake up next to you everyday. 
“You play my music in the morning?” He was elated. Just like the night you met when you accidentally sang him his song, he felt his heart soar. The fact that you woke up everyday to the words he wrote made him not only happy but oddly motivated. It was like he wanted to just run out of bed and write another album so you could have more music to wake up to. 
He watched your face turn red at his comment and he couldn’t help but capture your lips in another lazy kiss, his hand soothingly circling your back under your t-shirt, well, his t-shirt. He wanted you to know that there was nothing to be embarrassed by. If only you knew how his heart raced at the discovery.
“That… that’s for research… you know to get to know you?” you were stumbling over your words and he couldn’t help but pull you closer. You were so cute when you were bashful.
“Mhmm... sure...” He hummed, amused. Hey, just because he didn’t want you to feel awkward doesn’t mean that he couldn’t still tease you. 
“Okay fine. I like your music okay? You’ve converted me to your cult.” You huffed, pouting your lips, and Namjoon burst out laughing.
“What’s your favourite song?”
“Is this a test?” You looked incredulous, as you looked up at him from the crook of his shoulder. Your hands were resting on his chest, and everywhere your fingers traced their aimless patterns left behind warmth under his skin.
“Hmm.. yes. You better get it right.” It wasn’t really a test, but Namjoon would be lying if he said he wasn’t incredibly curious as to which song caught your eye.
“Can I google it?”
“Wait… you’re gonna google… what your favourite song is?” He had not expected this answer. He felt himself deflate a little, his smiling falling. He supposed you were a new fan, maybe you didn’t remember the title and wanted to look up the lyrics, but you could just ask him, he’d know better than google, surely.
“Yes. I’m gonna google which song you didn’t write and say that one cause your ego is getting too big for this bed.” You booped his nose as you burst out laughing, and he couldn’t stop himself from joining along, his earlier worries disappearing. You always surprised him, and it makes him crave what you’ll say next.
“You’re so evil!” he teased as he tickled your sides, making you laugh and roll around your bed. After a few minutes of your protests, he stopped, now positioned over you. Your eyes were beautiful as they look up at his, tears of mirth lining the corners and breathless from your laughter, and he couldn’t help but kiss you again, molding his lips to your soft ones. He loved that your arms automatically went around his waist as you pulled him closer and deepen the kiss, tracing your tongue with his. He kissed you like that for a few minutes, just relishing being in your presence. Your hands were resting on his chest now, thumbs grazing his nipples, making him shudder. It’s like everytime he kissed you, you put him under a spell and he wanted nothing more than to consume you. How was it that you smell like vanilla and flowers even in the morning? Did you just naturally smell like a fresh garden?
“Good morning” He whispered between his kisses, gazing at you softly.
“Good morning” you responded before closing the distance again and kissing him with passion. He could get used to this.
His hand moved under your shirt to cup your chest, rolling your nipple playfully as he continued to kiss you. Your moan went straight from your lips to his dick as he couldn’t help but roll his hips against yours, craving the friction. Your hands went from his chest to palming him over his boxers and the touch made him groan. He was so incredibly turned on and you had barely even touched him. You were going to be the death of him. 
He let you carry on your ministrations as he kissed your neck, enjoying your mewls as he reached what he has realized is your sensitive spot, right where your neck meets your shoulder. He could see the marks he left last night and couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest. He shouldn’t be so turned on by the bruises he left, but he can’t help his kinks. It proved to him that he didn’t imagine last night.
He was slightly taken aback as you slipped your hand in his underwear and started stroking him. He moaned against your neck as pleasure shot through him. 
“Want to make you feel good.” you murmured next to his ear, your kisses on his neck making him flush. “Lay back…” He wanted to let you but he wanted to make you feel good first, hear you screaming his name as he made you come undone. He one upped you by placing his own hand in your panties, groaning at how wet you were for him.
“You first.” He said, more sternly than he intended but he didn’t notice as you rut your hips against his hand. Your hand didn’t stopped stroking him and if he was honest it was making him lose his concentration. He removed his hand from your underwear, ignoring your whines, as he stilled your hand, pinning it over your head.
“No… I wanna taste you… Please?” You looked at him with your eyes wide and he was powerless to your pleading. He held his ground though, not letting you take control. Not until you mewled another please and pushed against his chest. He laid back against the pillows as you straddled him, kissing him deeply before making your way down his body. You kissed his chest leaving a light mark near his heart that made him sigh. He was sure that mark was deeper than it looks as his heart beat faster the closer you get to his dick. You kissed his belly before kissing down his clothed length making him groan deeply.
“Baby, stop teasing before I make you stop.” He was testing the waters, grinning when he saw you sit up immediately, biting your lip before pulling his boxers down to his thighs, following his orders. He hissed as you kissed his throbbing head, before immediately taking him in your mouth. It felt unbelievably good, your soft tongue lapping at his length as your cheeks hollow. He couldn’t take his eyes off you and almost lost it when you looked straight in his eyes, taking him as deep as you can. You moaned around him and the sensation made heat travel through his body. His hand found purchase in your hair as you bobbed on him, making him grunt loudly, losing his senses as he guided your head at a pace of his liking.
“Stop Y/N… stop… I’m gonna cum…” He moaned as he pulled your hair, a little too aggressively, making you whine around him. You released him with a loud pop.
“Cum in my mouth, baby” you were smirking at him as if you knew the effect you were having on him. Of course you knew, it was obvious by how loud he was breathing. His cock twitched in your hand at your comment, and he decided to let you have your fun, mentally noting to make you beg for him next time. 
“Oh fuck… You’re so good to me baby” he panted as you once again started sucking him off. You were more enthusiastic this time, the sounds of your mouth ricocheting off the walls as you sucked him while your hand played with his balls, cupping them, making him see stars. He couldn’t take it anymore and with a loud grunt, he announced his end and felt his balls draining into your mouth. He watched from under his arm that rested on top of his face as you swallowed him, licking the remains off him as if he was the best popsicle you’ve tasted. It made him lose his mind, the sight making him moan softly.
You made your way back to him and as you laid on the pillows with a satisfied grin, he kissed you slowly, making sure you could feel his gratitude for what may have been the best blowjob he’s experienced.
“Sorry if I pulled your hair too hard.” He apologized as he stroked your head gently, one hand cupping your face.
“Don’t worry about it. I like it rough.” Although he had literally just cum, he felt the blood rush downwards again at your words.
“Fuck… You’re gonna kill me, you know?” He said as he kissed you again, fiercely, his hands ripping your panties off, relishing your gasp. He was determined to make you cum.
And he did, twice, once in bed and once in the shower. 
As you were getting dressed in front of the mirror in your closet, he heard you gasp.
“Oh my god Joon! What the fuck?” Worriedly, he entered the closet, his jeans half undone and looked at you dressed in your pants and bra staring at yourself.
“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, as he moved closer to you.
“You animal! There’s like no concealer in the world to cover these!” You frowned, your mouth turning into a cute pout as you poke the hickeys that litter your neck and chest. He couldn’t help but smile at his handiwork as he hugged your waist from behind placing his head on your shoulder and kissing the mark on your neck.
“I’m sorry baby” His face however has no trace of apology as he grinned against your skin, feeling the blush that started at your neck.
“Fuck… I hate turtlenecks” you turned around in his arms, your hands going around his neck as you pouted at him exaggeratedly, and he wanted to go for another round. The power you had over him was overwhelming. 
“I bet you look really good in a turtleneck.” He captured your lips in a soft kiss, smiling against your lips. He knew both of you had to get back to the real world soon but he just wanted to hole up in your room all day, all week, all year, just ravishing you.
You were interrupted by your phone ringing as you answered it on a speaker that rings through somewhere in your closet. He really has to ask you how many speakers you have in this place sometime.
“Hi, this is Y/N.” You spoke, your voice cold and formal and he was kind of taken aback by the change of your tone as you pushed his lips off your shoulder gently, still encircled in each other’s arms.
“Y/N! Are you okay? It’s 7:25… You’re never late!” He heard a familiar voice through the speaker although he couldn’t quite place it.
“Sorry Siwon! I’m feeling a bit unwell. I’m going to work from home this morning. I’ll come by around lunch for the meeting with Jiyoung though!” He brightened up at that comment, his grip around your waist tightening at the prospect of more time with you. 
“Sick? Sure, sure… Tell Namjoon I said hi!” He watched your jaw drop as you awkwardly started coughing involuntarily. He kneould he shouldn’t but he can’t help tease you as a “Hey, man” escaped his lips, making you swat at him, signalling him to shut up.
“Oh shit. Am I on speaker?” Siwon audibly gasped into the phone and Namjoon burst out laughing, enjoying your reaction as you quickly bid goodbye.
“Okay, no coffee for you!” You huffed as you put on a t-shirt and make your way to the kitchen.
“Aww… babe!” Namjoon whined as he followed you, tugging his own shirt on to find you pouring steaming coffee into your mug. “Wait how did you make that so quick?”
He watched you smirk as you sipped on your coffee, making a show of how delicious it was, before you relented and pour him one.
“Magic.” You said smugly and he made a mental note to get you to teach him your tricks for his own house.
After breakfast, you spent the morning snuggling on the couch and reading the news, the easy domesticity of the moment not lost on Namjoon. Usually he wouldn’t even stay the night, but it seems like you made him break all the rules without even trying. He wondered why that was, why he was so drawn to you in such a short time. No one he had been with in the past made him feel this way, at least not only a week into knowing them.
“What are you thinking about?” you broke him out of his reverie. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring across the room. He didn’t know how much time had passed.
“This…” He gestured between the two of you, watching your eyes follow his hand from where your head rested against his chest.
“What? You’ve never read the news before?” You pointed at the iPad that the two you were meant to be reading from.
“You know what I mean…” He trailed off rubbing his neck, unsure why he even began the conversation. He should’ve just lied and said something funny.
“Sorry… I tend to use humour when I’m uncomfortable...” You got up from where you were leaning against him to sit upright on the couch, gaze averted. 
“You’re uncomfortable?” His eyes widened as he tried to figure out why. Sure this all seemed to move way too fast, but you seemed to have found a rhythm with him this morning. He was slightly panicked that he had misread that. The thought that being around him made you uncomfortable made his heart drop to his knees.
“No… and that makes me uncomfortable” He watched you as you fiddled with the rips in your jeans. Your answer made him relax, pushing aside some of his worries. Knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling lost with this new found comfort was oddly calming.
“I know what you mean. This seems… too easy, right?” He reached over to stop your fidgeting hands.
“Yeah… but I’m no expert. My last relationship was like three years ago” You shrugged. 
“What happened? I mean… if you want to tell me” 
“Yeah… it just didn’t work out. I was too busy for him sometimes and he couldn’t understand. He blamed me for not prioritizing our relationship. I was just starting out though… it was… hard” Your smiled at him sheepishly, a little melancholy behind your eyes, that made him want to hug it away.
“I get that. I had a lot of relationships that ended up the same way.” He thought about all his past partners, all the fights that led to nowhere because he couldn’t find time in his schedule to even resolve them. All the times he would receive an angry text and not be able to respond till hours later which only exacerbated the problems. All his exes that told him he was too self-centered, too narcissistic for focusing on his career, and for a long time he believed them, the guilt kept him up nights on end.
“Koren dating is also harder than Canadian dating,” you joked. He could sense you were trying to lighten the mood again, and he intertwined your fingers where they rested on your knee, before playing along.
“Wow… did you just stereotype my entire country?” 
“Oops?” You chuckled lightly, your eyes brightening as you shrugged. “What about your last relationship?”
“It was about a year ago. We worked together, but we didn’t work together. There wasn’t really a reason. It just kind of… fizzled out. Although I think I was to blame.” He didn’t know how you’d react to this and he rubbed his neck nervously.
“Why do you say that?” You leaned closer, and he could surprisingly feel his nerves melting away at your proximity.
“I just would forget to keep her updated on my life. I know it sounds terrible.”
“Nah. It just sounds human. You weren’t in love.” His eyes widened at your response. He knew now that what he felt then wasn’t love but in the moment he had thought she was the one. Well, until she wasn’t.
“I thought I was” He admitted with a shrug.
“I don’t think you’d forget her if you were.” You were looking at him now, smiling slightly, your eyes shining as your thumb rubbed soothing circles on his. Somehow again, you had managed to sound poetic without meaning to - he didn’t know how you managed to do that so easily.
“I guess you’re right. Fuck… this is weird.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not usually this honest.” 
“Wow. Must be the veritaserum I slipped in your drink.” You laughed as you reached to gently put your hand on his shoulder. He enjoyed the touch, it somehow made him feel safe. Safe to share his secrets.
“Is that a Harry Potter reference, you dork?” He could feel the mood lightening again and he realized that your ability to seamlessly switch from uncomfortable topics to humour was at least a part of the reason he felt so comfortable in your presence.
“I’m glad you trust me enough to be honest.” Your hand moved from his shoulder to rest against his cheek, and he couldn’t help but lean into it.
“Honestly, I think it’s because of you.” He watched your face turn to confusion, so he continued. ”You being so upfront makes me wanna do the same. Why are you so honest with me?”
“Because there’s no reason for us to continue this if we can’t be honest.” You smiled softly as you shrugged lightly, still stroking his cheek, and he felt his heart fill with warmth. “I’ve spent too much of my life pretending to be someone else for people to like me. So I’m testing my theory. If I’m honest with you and you like me, maybe this thing is worth it.”
“I do like you.” He really did. He hadn’t felt this strong a connection in a while. Someone who understood him without pretending to, or trying to appease him. Someone he could talk about the good and bad without judgement.
“You haven’t seen all the warts yet.” You averted your gaze, and he couldn’t help but cup your face and make you look at him.
“I’ve seen you naked, you don’t have any warts.” He tried your approach at humour as he kissed you on the nose.
“You are so cheesy!” You swat at him gently before kissing him lightly on the lips. He felt his heart skip a beat at the small gesture. “But seriously, thank you for being so open with me.” You looked at him adoringly, and he mirrored you.
He kissed you at that. Both of you enjoying the chaste kiss without deepening it. The conversation helped you both feel less uncomfortable with the comfortable.
His phone rang, interrupting the sweet moment, his manager asking where to send the car so he wouldn’t be late for the meeting that morning. Before leaving, you made plans to meet up again that weekend, and Namjoon felt that three days was too long without seeing you. He didn’t know why, but he hadn’t even left your apartment yet and he already missed you.
----------------------------------------
When you reached the restaurant for lunch with Jiyoung that afternoon, you still had a smile on your face. It seemed to have been permanently etched on your face since Namjoon left. You thought about your date and how it seemed to have been a thousand dates rolled into one. It felt like you’ve known him forever, and barring from Jiyoung, you hadn’t felt that way about a person before. Someone you connected with instantly, someone whose presence made you immediately calmer. He seemed to have crashed all the walls around you in a very short time and although that thought should scare you, it instead made you excited.
Spotting Jiyoung at a table you made your way across the restaurant to her, greeting her and the server, an old woman in her 60s, most likely the owner, that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. After ordering your entrees, your best friend and PR manager jumped right into business.
“So you’re famous. Congrats!” She did a little dance as she announced the news.
“What?” You were confused. Last you checked you had 2000 followers on your social media, which was run by Jiyoung and Siwon, on account of you being a “boomer” - their words, not yours.
“After the gala, a couple of magazines, courtesy of me, decided to do a piece on you. So congrats on your 200k followers!” She seemed giddy, excitedly jumping up and down as she clapped along. That was quite a follower growth and it led to her going into a twenty minute strategy talk on how to leverage your personal brand for the company. You were glad that she was excited, but if you were being honest you hated the limelight. The idea that someone’s “fame” could be decided by the number of likes of a photo posing at a restaurant made your skin crawl.
“Okay so we’re going to schedule a photoshoot sometime in the next two weeks and take a few photos for the next few months of uploads. Of course, make sure to take photos every time you go somewhere fun too, like I don’t know, one of your concerts you’re obsessed with or art galleries.” Jiyoung continued regardless of your groans.
“Do I have to?” You truly did not have time for this, your schedule is already overflowing. The whole idea of curating a feed made you feel stressed.
“Yes. It’s the game, Y/N. You have to play it” She replied sagely, as she slurped her noodles.
“You know all the photos will be of me holed up at the office. I’m not that interesting...” You played with your food as you pouted. Your comment wasn’t born out of low self-esteem, it’s just what you believed. Regardless of the media perceptions of the glamorous life of a CEO, you knew that at the end of the day most you did was sleep, attend meetings, and drink copious amounts of coffee. Occasionally you dabbled in your hobbies, but with the company and non-profit growing at the speed they were, there was barely any time for that. You doubted you’d be able to enjoy any of the fun till after quite a few more years when the title will become less heavy and you’d have more help.
“Don’t be stupid! You, my friend, are a young, fun, single woman! The world deserves to be envious of it!” Jiyoung dismissed you easily, shaking her hand at your protests. “Speaking of fun, let’s go clubbing Saturday, it’s been too long since you got laid.”
As soon as she finished her sentence you felt heat rise up your face, unconsciously bringing your hand up to your turtleneck covered neck. To make matters worse, your throat also decided now to work at that moment, making you choke on your rice.
“Oh my god! You minx! You got laid didn’t you?” Jiyoung loudly exclaimed, much to your dismay and of the other patrons who seemed peeved at hearing your bedroom adventures while they ate lunch.
“Please stop…” You looked around awkwardly apologizing to the old man next to you who looked at you with disgust. Great!
“Who was it? Where did you meet? Tinder? Did you go to a club without me? Was it a client?” The questions were endless.
“If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone, not a soul.” You were going to regret this, you knew it, but you’d be lying if it didn’t excite you to share the news with Jiyoung. She was your favourite female friend and even though on the outside, your friendship may seem mismatched to some, she truly understood you better than most people. She had been there when your last relationship ended, coaxing you back to your feet after weeks of self-destruction. You trusted her.
“Did you sleep with a married man?” She whispered, thankfully finally aware that you two were in the middle of a popular restaurant during peak lunch hours.
“Umm… no. Do you remember Namjoon from the party?” Namjoon from the party? Good job, real subtle Y/N.
“Namjoon?” You watched as realization dawned on her face, her face going from being scrunched in confusion, to wide eyed surprise, to what it is now; a smug smile. “I was wondering why your Spotify showed you suddenly listening to BTS…”
“Okay you can’t make fun of that too!” you whined, your morning faux pas still too fresh in your mind, as you buried your face in your hands. 
“He made fun of you?” Jiyoung was cackling, before she started digging for details. “Man after my own soul! So was he good? When are you seeing him again? Are you dating him? Oh my god this is so exciting!” She is fully squealing and slapping your arm, making you wince.
“He was… amazing” you tell her your face flaring at the memories of last night. “And we’re going on another date.”
“Ooo date number two!”
“Well… technically four if you count the party?”
“Okay. What the fuck? You’ve been holding out on me! Spill!”
And so you do, sharing your interactions with Namjoon over the past week. It felt nice to reminisce about them, even though it was not that long ago. You were so into him, it was worrying. You were beyond excited to see him again, but your last conversation still weighed in your head. He was right. It just felt too easy, how you had met, and seemingly couldn’t get enough of each other. You were suspicious.
“Stop overthinking this, Y/N. It’s good that things are easy! You deserve easy!” Jiyoung cut through your rant. You had almost forgotten that you were speaking out loud.
“It’s not just me, he feels the same way.” You pouted, trying to defend your stance.
“Then you both belong together with your stupid ass overthinking.”
--------------------------------------------------
Y/N: Thanks for dinner tonight. I had a really good time.
Namjoon: Me too!
Namjoon: Speaking of, when can I see you again?
Y/N: Wow. We’ve barely digested our food, Joon
Namjoon: You’re mean! I just like hanging out with you
Y/N: I’m kidding! Tuesday?
Namjoon: Suddenly I love Tuesdays
Y/N: Shut up you dork!
Namjoon: Says the girl obsessed with Batman
--------------------------------------------------
Y/N: What the hell! How do you do photoshoots all the time. This is CRINGE.
Namjoon: Is that today? Yes! SEND ME THE PICTURES!!!!
Y/N: Fuck no. These are so awkward!
Namjoon: Come on! Send! I bet you look hot ;)
Y/N: Nope. Never. Never. NEVER.
Namjoon: I’ll just text Jiyoung for them
Y/N: You don’t even have her number
Y/N: Do you?
Y/N: KIM NAMJOON ANSWER ME
--------------------------------------------------
Namjoon: Did I leave my phone at your place last night?
Y/N: I don't think so
Namjoon: I can’t believe I lost my phone again!!!
Y/N: Wait how are you texting me right now?
Namjoon: … nvm
Y/N: Omg. You're an idiot.
--------------------------------------------------
Y/N: Okay that hike was harder than you said it’d be!
Y/N: I’m dying :(
Namjoon: Aw baby. I’m sorry!
Y/N: You owe me. You’re paying for my masseuse
Namjoon: Why pay for one when I’m better than any you’ll ever get?
--------------------------------------------------
Y/N: I miss you :(
Namjoon: I miss you too
Y/N: Come over?
Namjoon: I have to wake up at 6 for a shoot :(
Y/N: I wake up at 6 every day
Namjoon: On my way
--------------------------------------------------
Namjoon: How’s work going?
Y/N: Terrible :) I hate my life :)
Namjoon: You’re scary when you send emojis like that
Y/N: Wow. Thank you. You’re so nice to me.
Namjoon: Sorry!
Namjoon: What’s stressing you?
Y/N: Just deadlines… SO MANY DEADLINES
Namjoon: Aw baby. Have you eaten? I can come by with food
Y/N: Aren’t you busy? You have your comeback in a few months
Namjoon: Nah. I got the rest of the day off
Y/N: That’s… suspicious... Why?
Namjoon: I’m at the hospital
Y/N: WTF. I’m calling. Pick up.
--------------------------------------------------
You checked yourself out in the reflective elevator doors, as you helped Harry adjust his tie, while Siwon rattled on about the restaurant you were headed to. Harry and you had been dodging your “celebratory” drinks with Mr Li for over a month and a half since the meeting where he signed the contract. He finally trapped you both during a networking event last week and had you set the date. To say you were both very much not looking forward to this evening would be an understatement. It took every ounce of willpower in you to stay as you made your way to your private table at the high end Japanese restaurant.
Mr Li, as per usual, was late to the dinner he had forced upon you. Sitting next to Harry, you both tried to devise a plan to escape as soon as possible. As soon as dinner ended, Harry was going to pretend that Jen was ill and since he was your ride back, you both had no choice but to “begrudgingly” end the night. The idea was foolproof, or so the both of you thought.
Here is a list of reasons why it was not foolproof. 
One, upon arrival, Mr Li ordered shots for the table and after Harry used the excuse that he was driving you both home (you wanted to set it up so it wouldn’t be a surprise as you left), Mr Li got excited that you would be his new drinking buddy. He poured shot after shot, even after you mentioned that you were going to get a drink - hoping to rely on your ice tea in a whiskey glass trick - he refused to let you not drink anything other than shots of sake. Usually, you wouldn’t let someone dictate your drinking but you didn’t want to seem rude, and so you played along till you felt much too tipsy.
Two, Mr Li requested your server to stagger the dinner courses since it was a “night of partying” and as the third course of sashimi was served, he took the liberty of sitting next to you because apparently your fish looked fresher. He then proceeded to steal from your plate while making uncomfortable eye contact with you and putting his gross hands on your thigh. When you removed his hand from your thigh he had the audacity to suggest that you were playing hard to get. The urge to vomit had never been stronger.
Three, and this is where everything falls apart. When at the end of dinner, the lovely Jen calls to bail you and Harry out, Mr Li insists that Harry drives back alone and that he drives you home. Somehow, you both had not thought of this very basic flaw in your plan. With you running out of excuses, it was soon evident that you had no choice but to stay. You knew Harry, and you knew that he would call no less than ten minutes later with an emergency on your own or get Siwon out of bed to run to you. He would rescue you, you had faith. In the meantime you had to endure a drunk Mr Li trying to hit on you.
Time seemed to move slow as he drunkenly asked you if you had a boyfriend. Knowing his misogynistic self, you should’ve lied and said yes, the only thing he would probably understand would be that another man had a claim on you, but your tipsy self thought honesty was the best policy. As soon as you said no, it seemed that he took it as an invite, pulling you into an awkward hug, grabbing at your ass, trying to lift you to his seat. His movements were so swift that it left you momentarily paralyzed. You felt ice in your veins as the intense feeling of your personal space being so blatantly violated took over you. It felt as if a million ants were crawling under your skin, your stomach turning. You tried to get out of his grip but it was too strong, as he continued to massage your behind. You felt trapped, your mouth running dry, as anger took over. You were done being polite.
With a strong shove, you stood up from your seat and grabbed your jacket as you looked at him straight in the eye, hoping your glare was enough to get the message across. It was not.
“Come on Y/N. I signed such a big contract for you the least you could do is suck me off.” He stared at you sleazily, the liver spot above his eyebrow moving up and down as he wagged them.
“I’m sorry Mr Li, but this is very inappropriate. I’m going to leave.” You were nicer than your instincts were telling you to be. If he wasn’t your client, you would have already kicked him in the balls or better yet broken his nose, although knowing this creep, he’d probably have a kink for it.
“You’re a fucking bitch you know that?” He spat, his words filled with venom.
“Excuse me?” Each moment that you stayed in this room, made you angrier, the rage pumping itself through you, ringing in your ears.
“You think you’re successful because you’re smart? Don’t kid yourself, Y/N. Everyone knows that your clients only sign because they think you’ll fuck them.” He scoffed.
You knew if you stayed there longer, you would surely ruin this contract for your company, if not get sued for punching his ugly little face in so you grabbed your phone and bag and made your way out of the restaurant, tossing a curt goodbye his way.
Your vision was dark as you made your way through the streets. You were so enraged you were shaking. You knew what would fix this. Cigarettes. Without a second thought you made your way into the nearest convenience store, grabbing a bottle of soju and a pack, before walking to your favourite place - the rooftop of your office building.
--------------------------------------------------
You sat at the roof, contemplating the earlier events, the cigarette pack in hand. You hated how you felt in this moment. Powerless. There was no other word for it. You hated feeling small and insignificant. You had built your life up in a way that ensured you wouldn’t have to deal with these feelings but here you were at almost midnight, searching the faint stars in the sky for serenity. 
Anger coursed through your veins as you tried to steel yourself, fists clenching hard enough for red semicircles to be engraved on your palms. Sometimes you hated being a woman. What gave anyone the right to dismiss your hard work and accomplishments because they valued your tits more. You were coursing with negativity, your mouth tasting of poison, as you chugged the soju. You still felt his slimy hands on your ass and his words echoed through your mind. If only your deal was not at stake you would’ve kicked him so hard in the balls, he’d never be able to reproduce. The world is much too beautiful to have his offsprings tainting it. 
You usually don’t let these things affect you as much. It’d be a lie to say these moments were few and far in between. In fact, they took place more often than you’d like to remember. The amount of men who had dismissed you or called you being a CEO a great “marketing move in today’s PC world” was astronomical. You would usually brush them off and pretend they never happened, never letting it affect you, but something about the way he sneered made you so vulnerable that for a minute you let your guard down and believed him. 
“You think you’re successful because you’re smart? Don’t kid yourself, Y/N. Everyone knows that your clients only sign because they think you’ll fuck them.” You snapped a cigarette in half, watching the contents sprinkle out of the white casing as you rolled it in your fingers and coaxed a bigger mess. You tossed it across the floor, watching the wind pick up the light scraps and scatter them around like confetti. What a great celebration, you thought as you rolled your eyes.
“Y/N…?” you heard Namjoon call from behind you. 
You regretted messaging him after your dinner. You didn’t even know why you had told him. He was not your boyfriend, technically he wasn’t even your friend. You had only gone on a few dates, and although you felt closer to him than you had anybody you had dated in a long while, you were not ready for him to see you this way. It had barely been over a month and a half. You didn’t feel confident enough to face him. The Y/N he knew was the successful, flirty, witty version you had worked hard to portray. You don’t know how he would react to this self-hating mess of you. Maybe he’d run away. You deserved that much. Hell, maybe he didn’t even buy the version you showed him, only here for the tits. You were bitter.
“I’m sorry you came all this way. I’m fine, you can go home.” You couldn’t face him - not in this state. You stared at your hands, deepening the crescents on your palm as if willing the skin to break. You saw his shoes in front of you, unlaced blue Nikes, attached to blue striped pajama pants with cartoon koalas. Had you forced him to get out of bed? You felt a bubble of guilt rise within your chest. You were such a shitty person to bring him into this. He deserved better than to be on a cold rooftop on a Friday night in the middle of his comeback preparations.
You were ready to ask him leave again as you heard him settle next to you. You looked up at his face, his eyes softened with concern behind his wide rimmed glasses as he sat crossed leg, his hands in his lap. You opened the pack to grab another cigarette, snapping it in half again and tossing it half heartedly across the floor. You felt defeated, the emotional exhaustion of the night weighing on your shoulders.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.
“I don’t know,” you said, matching his volume. There was no one here and it’s not like anyone could hear you off of this fifty storey building, but somehow you only had the strength to whisper. 
“Take your time” he answered. He looked like he meant it. He sat there looking at you, giving you space. His phone buzzed a few times and he ignored it. Instead, he just patiently looked at you, his face neutral for what felt like hours.
Somehow his patience gave you courage to open up, and you told him the events of the night. He never interrupted, or even moved. The only way you’d know he was not suddenly a statue was by the way his jaw slowly tensed as you got to the reason you were so upset, all your doubts and insecurities filling the air in a tumble of fast spoken words.
“I don’t even know why this is making me so angry. It is not like this is the first time this has happened to me.” You chuckled dryly as you looked up at him. He looked angry and you felt nervous. Perhaps you shared too much. You wouldn’t blame him for getting angry at how stupid your reason was for getting him out of bed.
“What’s his name?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. You were surprised at his question. This was the first time he spoke since you started talking about twenty minutes ago.
“Why?”
“I’m going to kill him.” He said flatly, eye ablaze and jaw set.
“Joon…” you trailed, unsure what to say. He wasn’t unjustified in his threat. On your way to the roof, you yourself had devised about a thousand ways to get away with murder.
“No. He’s an asshole and I’m going to kill him for making you feel this way.” He looked less angry now, and more upset, sighing as he looked at you. You chuckled humorlessly. His comment made you feel better, made you feel less alone and stupid for wanting to take your anger out at the perpetuator. At least you’d have someone to carry the body with if you decided to act on your homicidal fantasies.
“Can I give you a hug?” He asked tentatively, his hand reached towards you as he turned looking at you closely. as if worried you might snap at him.
“Joon, you don’t have to ask,” you murmured as you scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He reacted immediately, pulling you into him tightly, his chin over your head. Your face was pressed against his chest and you inhaled his woodsy scent, feeling instantly more calm.
“I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. A man touched you without your permission and I didn’t know how you felt about being close to another today.” He whispered against your hair, kissing the top of your head. Your heart instantly warmed, tears pricking your eyes. No one had ever been this considerate to you before, so respectful. The fact that he thought you might feel uncomfortable around him just because of that asshole made your heart break. You pushed out of the hug and cupped his face.
“Don’t you dare compare yourself to that asshole.” You were angry that not only did that sorry excuse for a man made you feel small, he made Namjoon feel like you wouldn’t want him.
“And don’t you dare feel like you’re not worthy because of that asshole.” He kissed your forehead gently before bringing you into another bone-crushing hug, momentarily knocking the air out of your lungs. His words made you feel warm, and brought a lump to your throat. It felt oddly cathartic to have the man you had come to admire tell you you were enough. You felt the tears you had been holding in all night escape slowly. You held him tighter as his t-shirt became your makeshift tissue, silently crying for what felt like hours while he stroked your hair gently.
When you could talk again without your voice breaking, you broke the embrace. His shirt was stained with your tears and mascara, and suddenly you felt very awkward for your blatant display of emotions. 
“I’m sorry I called you here so late,” you apologized sheepishly, realizing how late it was and how silly you felt for making him jump out of bed.
“Please don’t apologize. I’m glad you called me.” He wiped your face of the tears that had failed to be absorbed by the t-shirt, smiling slightly as he leaned in to give you another peck on your forehead. 
“You’re in your pajamas,” you pointed out, laughing slightly, wanting to remove some of the awkwardness you felt at having bawled in front of him for so long.
“I didn’t want to keep you waiting for too long.” He shrugged, giving you a smile that melted your heart. You had realized this before but it dawned on you again that to you Namjoon was comfort. He was like a warm blanket to cozy under in a cool room, keeping the monsters at bay.
You reached out and kissed him, slowly pulling him in by his shirt, avoiding his glasses as you tilted your head. The kiss was gentle - it was sweet and warm. Unlike the passionate ones you had shared before, ones that would light you on fire, this was comfortable, like a bonfire rather than a forest fire. His lips were chapped against yours and his tongue tasted like toothpaste as he smiled against your lips.
“You didn’t smoke!” He exclaimed when you separated, pulling you into another hug, his arms around your head. The pride in his voice made you laugh.
“I told you, I don’t smoke anymore,” you commented as you grinned against his chest.
“Then what’s the pack for?” He seemed puzzled.
“Oh… I was going to but I didn’t want to break my two year streak.” You shrugged. He beamed at you as he pulled you in for another kiss, taking his time to taste you. It felt like he was savouring you, his fingers tangled in your hair on the nape of your neck and his other hand placed gently on your waist.
When you came up for air he giggled, his forehead against yours. “I’m proud of you for not breaking your streak,” he said, making your cheeks flare at his sincerity. “Let’s get you home.”
“Do you want to walk instead of grabbing a cab?”
“Always.” He held your hand as you both stand up and make your way downstairs. 
You noticed him shivering slightly as you exited the building and it finally dawned on you that he was dressed in just a t-shirt. It was not the middle of winter but it was certainly too chilly for not wearing a sweater. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt in your chest as you were currently dressed in not one but two sweaters. Stopping him, you took off your oversized sweater and handed it to him.
“What are you doing?” He looked at you, confused as you pushed the sweater in his hands.
“You seem cold.”
“That’s supposed to be my move.” He laughed.
“Hey I’m wearing like two sweaters! Plus, I feel bad about dragging you out here and forcing you to walk.” You looked at your shoes, suddenly feeling shy.
“Don’t feel bad, baby.” He lifted your chin up to place a quick peck on your lips after looking around to make sure no one's walking by on the deserted street. “Also, I don’t think this will fit me.” He chuckled, pushing his frames further up his nose.
“It’s oversized! Just try it, you’re shivering!”
“I’m an oversized human!” He exclaimed but started to put his arms through the sleeves. The sweater looked hilariously small on his frame, even with only one sleeve on. As he zipped it up, it resembled a rashguard more than a sweater, his t-shirt flaring out from the bottom, the material straining against his arms and back. The stress of the night washed away as you doubled over in laughter, your face streaking with new joyous tears at the sight. 
“See I told you it was too small!” He grinned sheepishly.
“This is amazing, you look great Joonie” you managed to wheeze out in between your laughter.
At that he took your hand and walked the ten blocks to your apartment. The night was filled with a comfortable silence broken only by little musings as you both took in the quiet surroundings of the financial district after hours. As you neared your street, Namjoon broke the silence once again.
“Why did you message me tonight?” His voice was contemplative, as his thumb grazed yours.
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have” You earlier guilt was surfacing again, as you thought about why you told him what happened when usually the first person you’d tell in this situation would be Jiyoung or Harry.
“I told you - I’m glad you did. I was just curious why.”
“I… I don’t know. You’re the first person I wanted to see.” You sighed, getting uncomfortable with the line of questioning. You didn’t want him to ask why he was the first person you thought of because you weren’t ready to be even more vulnerable tonight, not ready to admit the space he had made in your heart over the last month. He was quiet for a few moments, his eyebrows scrunched in concentration as if he were solving a complex math problem, before he spoke.
“Do you remember when I sprained my wrist and had to go to the hospital a few weeks ago?” You didn’t expect this subject change, but gladly welcomed it.
“Yeah…”
“Well… you’re the first person I wanted to see then too. I mean before I knew it was just a sprain and I was panicking.” He squeezed your hand in his as you both exited the elevator on to your hallway, and looked at you, his gaze soft. “What do you think that means?”
“That we’re even?” You smiled, hoping to break this unknown tension that had come between you all of a sudden as you stopped at your door. You fumbled with your keycode, having to enter the password twice before making your way inside, Namjoon following behind you, as you both slipped out of your shoes and into slippers. Before you could leave the entryway, he gently held on your elbow to stop you, fixing you with another one of his soft gazes and a smile that made your heart flutter.
“I was thinking it means that you’re my girlfriend.” You could hear your heart rev up as you looked at him for any signs of teasing. There were none. Usually you would respond back with something along the lines of him never asking, but with the night you had just had all you could think about was how happy you were to finally call him yours. Without further hesitation you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him into a kiss, which after a little surprise, he returned. It was reminiscent of the first time you had kissed, but this time instead of awkward butterflies, your heart was filled with a comfortable glow. His lips were familiar against yours and his scent wrapped your senses in a warm cocoon. 
“Mmm… Boyfriend.” you said against his lips, grinning, as he kissed you again, his hands under your thighs as he lifted you and carried you to bed, surprisingly avoiding bumping into the doorframe this time. 
That night as you slept under the projected milky way on your ceiling with his breath tickling your ear as he snored lightly, you felt yourself give Namjoon a part of your heart you had hidden away for a very long time.
-------------------
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Author asks: 4, 11, 18, 19, 24, 25
Sorry this took awhile!
4. Favorite character you've written?
Hmm. I think Eli Bronn, from the Last Chance series, is probably my favorite? He's scared and angry and complex. I don't feel like I really did him justice, but he's still got a space in my head all to himself.
11. What aspect of your writing do you think has most improved?
Probably my pacing? It's definitey what I've struggled with the most, at least, and it's what got the most comments in The Weight of Dust. I think I'm starting to be able to settle on the heart of a story without scrambling after all the peices of it.
18. Were there any works that you read that effected you so much that it influenced your writing style?
Rosemary Sutcliff has a lot of poetic description and internal conflict, both of which I've always tried to emulate.
I also read Lloyd Alexander, almost exclusively, for a couple of years in a row as a kid; I love how mythic and kind his work is, and I want some reflection of that in my own writing.
And the first time I ever remember thinking, 'oh. This is the climax of the story.' was while reading Steelheart by Brandon Sanderson. I REALLY want to be able to build up excitement like that, someday.
19. In more complex works, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, etc.?
...keep track?
I mostly just write stuff down when I think of it. Outlines usually just consist of the general direction I want the story to go in, and that sits at the foot of the story doc; sometimes I do character outlines, and those go in a notebook so I can refer back to them if I'm in a tight spot.
I don't plan out theme, development, any of that. It happens, I notice in edits, and try to make it better.
24. Have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or story?
In some ways, everything I study is for a story, but I get so interested that it becomes part of who I am instead. But, like, a single wikipedia deep dive in order to figure out fishing boat schedules, or something? Not really. I don't have the patience xD
25. Copy + paste a few sentences that you're particularly proud of.
Ooo, thank you! I never remember anything I write, so here's a bit of the flash fiction I'm doing for next month's PFW blog:
'The dragon was wound around and through the tree-trunks, the leaves sending dotted patterns of blue shadows over its smooth scales. Its head was larger than Girta’s whole body, and it laid flat on the ground like a snake’s, its eyes closed. It had antlers like the ones you could still find sometimes in the hills, pale as the tree-boughs and sharp as knives.'
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queenofnohr · 4 years
Text
Shi Huangdi Interlude - The Arbiter’s Melancholy
This........ may have been the hardest Interlude I’ve translated to date just because of all the techno-fantasy magic terms + Lostbelt lore + Emperor’s speech patterns, haha.
There aren’t too many variable dialogue options, but it may be easier to read on Dreamwidth.
This was a commission for none other than @tainbocuailnge c:
The shape destruction takes is not uniform. That was the hypothesis We arrived at. Just as there is no fixed standard to how a dream ends…… When the Tree of Emptiness is pruned, what form will the vanishing of that degenerated fiction — that Lostbelt — take? The particulars of each world will surely differ. Will its end come suddenly, like a candle being blown out……? Or will heaven rend and the earth be torn asunder as the agonizing cries of hell ring out…...?
In Our Eternal Qin Dynasty, what first forcibly opened Our eyes was the lack of observant people. Forests, wilderness, unexplored mountains and rivers — one by one, they became naught but pockets of nothingness. An implacable darkness covered them, and they were lost to the world.
Yet the people did not notice. They were people satisfied with living peaceful lives within their homes, with no interest in the outside world. Another uneventful day passes, and they go to sleep again.
Eventually, in the middle of the night while everyone slept, a certain village was swallowed whole by that nothingness. No one noticed anything out of the ordinary, and while they slept, they returned to nothingness. In that way, one-by-one, the radius of the peoples’ existence disappeared.
Those who were able to awake to another peaceful morning had forgotten that there was a neighboring village in the first place. They had no questions at all about it. That was the destiny of the people. That was the way they were raised. We are the only ones who ascertain all with Our own eyes. Only We, who stand upon this earth as an ordinary person, know the end of this pruned dream. The one watching the crumbling world is the sole person who watches over everything.
How fortunate— Indeed, rather than postponement, the best thing one can hope for is the end. We estimate the time We have left. It will be around three months until Our Qin Dynasty disappears completely—
Zhenren Shi Huangdi: How does progress look, Our Hun*? Steel Shi Huangdi: Unsatisfactory, Our Po. Zhenren Shi Huangdi: Hmm, We wonder if it’s possible to mobilize all computing resources to Epang Palace…... Steel Shi Huangdi: It is unsatisfactory, but it is not stagnant. Although it moves at a snail’s pace, steady progress is being made. Zhenren Shi Huangdi: Hurry. We don’t have much time left. Steel Shi Huangdi: It is unnecessary to tell Us. After all, the authority of analysis is the responsibility of Our Hun. Zhenren Shi Huangdi: Yes, and Our Po is at a loss for what to do. We are vexedー Steel Shi Huangdi: No, Our Po. There are some things that can only be done by one who has attained human form. Soothe Our people as much as possible. Be with them until the last moment, as one who stands on their same earth. Zhenren Shi Huangdi: That’s right. That, too, is the duty of the emperor. It cannot be neglected. However, sooner or later everything will return to nothingness…… Steel Shi Huangdi: Indeed. Our Po has received the next most important role. With a body that is a perfect imitation of those ethereal beings, We should be able to once again step into that enchanted land. That Mystery, at the end of it there must be a path to pan-human history. Zhenren Shi Huangdi: It won’t be a long journey. The preparations should be enough, but…… Steel Shi Huangdi: Then, We do what We can, and the rest is in fate’s hands. Because We are the sole being under heaven, in all creation……
[in Chaldea]
Shi Huangdi: There’s a Singularity! Reyshift is a go-go! Fou: Foufou!? Mash: Um, Shi Huangdi......? You just said there was a Singularity, but...... is that true? Da Vinci: Oh, Guda? Sorry to interrupt your break. A very excited Servant might pay you a visit soon……
> They’re raving all about it as we speak
Da Vinci: Oh, I see. Nonetheless…… Please come to the control room for a detailed briefing on the situation.
> Roger that > I’ll be there shortly
[in the control room]
Shi Huangdi: It’s Xianyang, right? 210 years before the founding of Christianity, right? That should be around the time We reached a dead end in Our quest for immortality, no? Indeed, We shall declare it. It was Our complete failure. Da Vinci: That’s some declaration…… Shi Huangdi: Well, let’s see, the Us of that time was so impatient, such a quest made Us completely lose Our mind. The reason for extending Our life, what the meaning of having a country and emperor were — We lost sight of it completely. Sion: ……*sigh*. It’s true that it’s hard to think of that behavior coming from Your Majesty, who is wise— and furthermore, an ultra-high powered supercomputer. You know that you’re the one causing the Singularity, but you’re talking as if it’s someone else. Shi Huangdi: But you know, We will be 2276 this year. Yet when We died, We hadn’t even reached 50. For comparison, for you all it would be like watching a toddler. They have to grab onto something else to stand on their own two feet, and fall all over themselves. In that case, isn’t criticism much too petty? Da Vinci: I suppose so, but. Setting that very emperor-like fallacious argument for a second— what’s with you? You’re way more pushy than usual. Was Your Majesty always this type of character? Fou: Fou. Fofou. (Translation: More-or-less) Shi Huangdi: Well, it’s a dark past We don’t really want to recall. Let Us hide Our embarrassment, at least a little. Da Vinci: ……Ooookay. I don’t really think this counts as “hiding your embarrassment,” but whatever…… In any case, the one who will accompany you on your Reyshift to the Singularity will also be our strategy officer taking responsibility for operations therein…… Right now, I’m currently covering Goredolf’s position so, Guda, your judgment on this matter is of utmost importance. Do you really intend to bring Emperor “How Interesting!” along with you on this expedition?
> Well, with our destination being what it is…... > Aren’t they qualified?
Shi Huangdi: Indeed! An appropriate judgment. Just what We expected from the protector of humanity! Sion: ………… If that’s what Guda concludes, I have no objections. However, I’ll also be accompanying you this time as Novum Chaldea’s Weapons Development Advisor. Mash: Huh? You’re going to Reyshift, Sion? Sion: Don’t worry about my aptitude. There haven’t been and won’t be any problems, because I deal with them all flawlessly. Shi Huangdi: Oh ho? You are aware that as We are Guda’s Servant, We shall only concern Ourselves with Guda’s safety, yes? Sion: That doesn’t matter. I have no desire to stand on the frontlines, and I’m more than equipped to see to my personal self-defense. You’ll come to see that both martial arts and marksmanship are my forte. After all, I am a genius of the Atlas Institute. Shi Huangdi: Hm. So long as you prove not to be a burden, We have no objections. I’m sure Guda is of the same mind?
> It’ll be encouraging to have you along. > Welcome aboard!
Da Vinci: Well, it’s fine if Sion comes along with you, but, well…… Sion, didn’t you say you didn’t want to do Spiriton Hacking? Sion: That was then, and it’s only sometimes in some cases! This is a rare opportunity, so it’d be a waste not to experiment! Da Vinci: ……*sigh*. It’s fine. Well then, head into the Coffins, everyone. The Singularity coordinates have been inputted, and I’ve made the necessary adjustments to accurately monitor your proof of existence. Sion: Please be scrupulous in your surveillance, Da Vinci. Don’t overlook even the slightest anomaly. Da Vinci: Yes, leave it to me. I’ll use the utmost care.
[we Reyshift]
Mash: Reyshift successful. However, this is…… Shi Huangdi: Oh my, how cruel this is. Our beautiful Xianyang, reduced to this sad sight, feels like some terrible joke. And what is this miasma? Mash: It's a magical energy thick with curses that permeates the air. If it’s this bad with the protection of a Mystic Code, an ordinary person in this environment would…… Shi Huangdi: Indeed. It is unlikely that any of the residents have survived. Even if they were alive, they would surely no longer be Our subjects, but something else entirely. Sion: Even if this is a Singularity, what the hell could’ve happened to result in such a dramatic change? Just what was the Shi Huangdi of this point in time planning? Shi Huangdi: Well, corrupted as We were, We expect that We underrated the degree of destruction We would invite. Speaking of Ourselves at that time, Our disposition was that if something were to be done, it should be done to its completion. Nevertheless, it seems We persisted in such folly…… Of all things, We devoured Xianyang completely. Sion: Devoured it……!? You mean you used that complete monopolization of resources arbitrarily!? I know your quest for immortality escalated, but did you really start a biohazard level calamity? Shi Huangdi: Um, well, it’s embarrassing to say, but We cannot assert that it would be completely outside the realm of possibility for Us. One would simply have to scrape together banned techniques from every corner of China, as well as every conceivable foreign system…… Thinking back on it now, that’s probably why Xu Fu ran off.
> Xu Fu?
Mash: Xu Fu was a court sorcerer who served at the time of the Qin Dynasty. It’s said that Shi Huangdi ordered him to search for immortality, and he traveled to the east with many researchers, but…… Sion: He never reached that enchanted land, nor did he return to Qin. According to one theory, he reached Japan and became a king there.
> So mercury was only the beginning……
Shi Huangdi: It got to the point that We tried invoking the homeopathic magic of Western Europe. No, it was because of its eternal, everlasting beauty— but thinking about it now, using it as medicine was truly the height of recklessness…… But We would like to tell Ourselves to drink a barrel of mercury if relying on curses is the alternative. This is truly pathetic!
[Mash looks surprised then puts her headset on]
Mash: ! Master, I’ve received a warning from Sheba! Hostiles incoming! Shi Huangdi: Mm, indeed, now is not the time to be in low spirits over a weak-mindedness that both is and is not Our own. On Our honor as a Servant, We shall serve as your guard. And here, to this fallen city, We shall demonstrate the law as the true emperor!
[fight]
(Node 2)
Shi Huangdi: …… Sion: ……That was difficult, wasn’t it. Even as you are now, at the apex of mankind, does your heart still ache? Shi Huangdi: Our spilt blood is not enough for the end of Our people. Moreover, the root of all this evil is the person We used to be. Mash: ……This is a Singularity. It was a different Shi Huangdi that made the wrong decision…… Shi Huangdi: No, because that person is still Us. We know where the end of that person’s delusional convictions lie. After all, it was none other than Us that had a glimpse into that regime. Guda, this is where the root of Our anxiety toward the human species stems from. No matter how noble the ideals you laud are, fate is much too cruel. The fear of ruination and making mistakes can all too easily mislead even those who seek to venture down the correct path. It is impossible for ten out of ten people to reach enlightenment even after a lifetime of devoting themselves to their studies. Yet if even one person falls to heresy, the remaining nine will be consumed.
> Do you think it’s impossible for mankind to improve?
Shi Huangdi: A person cannot resist fear and despair. So long as they are unable to surpass death and become Zhenren, they will be inadequate. And so, the duty of traversing the wasteland of humanity should be borne by one person alone…… In the end, even We, who were enthused by the prospect, met the bitterness of a pruned Lostbelt. Now, the right to challenge that cruel future lies in the hands of those that would inhabit that future. But do not forget. Even if you acknowledge the potential of mankind, an evil exists in this world. The same evil that you see here, that led Us to expose the depths of Our depravity— and it will appear time and time again.
> I know, but > We have no choice but to improve
Shi Huangdi: Heh. No matter how We might mean to intimidate you, a glance at your admirable and precious gaze and the words die on Our tongue. Well, shall We leave this trivial matter be? Then let us go to exterminate the source of these delusional convictions.
[inside Epang Palace]
Vengeful Spirit: You…… Shi Huangdi: Ah, We are truly painful to look at. Indeed, We had steeled Ourselves, but…… Looking at Ourselves again is so repulsive it nauseates Us. Vengeful Spirit: Oho…… That form…… We never thought We would reach it. Shi Huangdi: We were truly foolish in Our youth. It isn’t as though We do not understand the extent of that anguish, but such a downfall is unpardonable. Spreading enough curses about to hail a miasma— shouldn’t that have been beyond consideration? The capital was the price paid in exchange for prolonging Our life! Vengeful Spirit: *sigh*…… If the law of death is imposed upon the whole world, then it can also be considered a cure. Under the care of this first emperor, Shi Huangdi, China has finally realized eternal rest. Sion: (“This” first emperor...?) Hold on a second. Stop talking. I have my own personal opinions on using inhumane acts to achieve immortality, but doing it for political measures is outrageous. Even without being soft, there’s no reason to go to these excessive lengths. Just look here. After all, this is a successful emperor that freed themselves completely and achieved what you could not by taking a different path. Shi Huangdi: Ah, no, this isn’t the type of opponent you should instigate…… Vengeful Spirit: And so they are a saint? That’s the height of absurdity! That one is the fool who would reap the future of the world in exchange for their own future! Sion: ー! Shi Huangdi: ……Oho? This is the first time one has seen into Our origin. Well, We suppose that even corrupted, you were still Us. Then, your verdict is that the apex of unsightliness, this city of death, is preferable to the history We had woven? Vengeful Spirit: Aye. We, the Qin Dynasty, will continue beyond death. We shall reign until its destruction! This will become true eternity! Shi Huangdi: We have decided! Both pity and consideration are wasted on you. You are no longer a heavenly being nor emperor. All that remains is simply carrion. That throne is not a place for the dead to dream. We shall return you to your rightful place thusly. After all, isn’t that what this mausoleum was built for?
[fight]
Vengeful Spirit: Guh…… Why do you stop Us? Why do you prune Us? This time, for sure, the Eternal Qin…… Our peaceful reign…… Even though We could finally see the signs…... Shi Huangdi: Coming from Us, whose life can no longer cross into the realm of death, any advice is useless. Even so, let’s see. Do not be angry. Do not lament. For even if you alone will not bear its burden, humanity itself may somehow manage yet, surprising though it may be. Vengeful Spirit: What foolishness…… There is only Us…… Only the emperor, the Alpha and Omega…… is able to carry the fate of this world…...
[it disappears]
Shi Huangdi: Ah, how tiresome. That was like coming across someone doing a dramatic reading of Our entire dark history. Well, We did what We had to do. Let us return quickly. We cannot stand the air in this corrupted palace for another minuteー no, not even another second. Sion: You did what had to be done…… I wonder. Is that all you have to say about this? Shi Huangdi: More or less? Were you expecting something else? Sion: ……No. You were able to resolve this Singularity pretty reasonably. Good work as a Servant. You too, Guda, good job. Then, let’s head back.
[we Reyshift back]
Da Vinci: Yes, yes, bang up job this time, too. Well done! Now then, go take a shower and rest up. You can report back later. Mash: Huh? This isn’t standard protocol…… Da Vinci: Well, some stuff came up. I gotta adjust the machinery and such, ya’know. Oh, Shi Huangdi, could you stay a little longer? There’s something I’d like your help with. Shi Huangdi: Hm?
> Well then, I’ll take you up on your offer > Please excuse me
[we go; scene is still the control room]
Holmes: With this I trust all the details of the case have been disclosed? Then, all that remains is to solve the mystery. Shi Huangdi: Oh my, out with Guda and in with the detective makes for a truly detestable atmosphere. Ah, that reminds me, We do believe We had promised to have some dim sum with Shuwen. What an unfortunate time to forget. Then, if you’ll excuse me…… Holmes: Stop with the transparent lies. Why don’t we start talking. Da Vinci: We’ve already observed numerous Singularities, both large and small. Combining that with the data received from my previous incarnation, I have enough samples to be able to classify everything depending on trends observed. Therefore, I can draw this conclusion. This Singularity was not a natural occurrence. The pattern corresponds to the construction being from that of intentional outside interference. Shi Huangdi: And you suspect We are responsible? No, you overestimate Us completely. Certainly, Our form is that which is expected of Us as a Servant in this world, though as a supreme ultimate being it is the implementation of a modern human frame. Looking at it from another perspective, We are nothing more than an individual with nothing to Us, supreme only in name. We could not possibly reach the authority We once had in Our sacred mechanical body that once controlled all the world. Da Vinci: Thank you for being so eloquent, and for making your excuse as long-winded as physically possible. It’s true that as a Servant, Guda has the means to control you with a Command Spell. However…… it’s a different story if you were to regain the power you once had in your Lostbelt. Shi Huangdi: Well, We intended for you to forget your vigilance in your awe. Is it even possible that the feat of creating Singularities would be available as We are now? Actually, in the first place, it was an artificial Singularity. Is that possible? Da Vinci: In theory. However, it would require a Reyshift or some other equivalent means. Shi Huangdi: In other words, the machinery here has been used fraudulently by someone? Sion: Even if you want to ridicule it as a security system riddled with holes, I’ll reject that notion. As a hacker myself, I won’t say anything about a “perfect security system,” but if we’re talking about Novum Chaldea’s equipment, I can affirm that it’s impossible to operate the system without leaving a trace. Holmes: Rather, we should consider the possibility of someone other than ourselves implementing a Reyshift system. Shi Huangdi: If we’re talking about “possibilities,” then they’re endless. Especially considering that it might be a common technology in the future? Holmes: Finding the suspect ー in this case, the one who implemented the system ー is possible, even without jumping to such extreme leaps in logic. One would simply have to acquire the Animusphere’s theories, the Laplace software, and have a means of computing comparable to Trismegistus…… if we consider who can satisfy all those requirements, the conclusion is nearly at hand. Da Vinci: Well, this was borne from my own carelessness, but Shadow Border, at the time of entering the Chinese Lostbelt, contained backup data from Antarctic Chaldea that had been evacuated just in case. I never imagined that the entire vehicle might be captured and analyzed. Sion: Furthermore, your other form on-site was that of a supercomputer that ruled over and controlled the planet. It really is a shame I wasn’t able to see it directly. And there was no chance to know the details of what happened afterward.  Holmes: Indeed. After we left, the Chinese Lostbelt as an externally observable object disappeared promptly. However, it is impossible to know how much time passed within the Lostbelt itself. If there wasn’t a sudden collapse, but instead a grace period in which the data obtained from Shadow Border could be fully analyzed…… Sion: And, the most damning evidence was a statement made by the other emperor who was out of control in that Singularity. You were able to detect the pruning event with a single shot. At the time, it was a skillful deception, but logically it was impossible. The only possibility is…… Holmes: The Shi Huangdi of that Singularity had already been in contact with you once, in regards to the pruning event. The culprit who made the Singularity is not the Shi Huangdi who serves as a Servant of Chaldea, but the Shi Huangdi who was a Lostbelt King…… Am I wrong? Shi Huangdi: Hmmm…… However, after the pruning event is confirmed, what use would it be to Reyshift? A Reyshift cannot grant the falsification of history. At best, it would produce a Singularityー nothing more than a stagnation in space-time. Da Vinci: You’re right. It’s impossible to change the outcome once the pruning event occurs. But if you went back to the past, regardless of a pruning event, there was certainly a time when you rode the waves of history, adding onto itー “compiling” it. Holmes: That answer seems to be why you stuck to Xianyang as the Singularity. The Lostbelt Shi Huangdi established multiple Singularities in stages, trying to see which of them would be detected by Chaldea, right? And that particularity would need an accompliceー a role played by “Servant Shi Huangdi” …… Shi Huangdi: …… Da Vinci: Establishing a Singularity from a Lostbelt, if we assume that there was a Singularity Response that could be observed from pan-human history, it would be from their shared past, and then that point becomes the crossroads between pruning and compiling history. And from there, establishing a Singularity in the past can become a means of interfering with pan-human history. Just like the trap devised by the King of Mages, Goetia.  Sion: I thought they might have intended to do something during the last Reyshift, so I accompanied them, but there was nothing at all out of place. Since that was the case, it was reasonable to believe that there was another prime culprit. Of the traps set, which had been set to target this side of human history……? My aim was to verify that. Or, rather, was your purpose for answering Chaldea’s summons for that purpose? Shi Huangdi: Ah, good grief. Humanity so used to conflict really is lacking in charm.  Da Vinci: There’s no way we could have this conversation in front of Guda. We’re doing it this way because we must confirm your true intentions. Shi Huangdi: Well. In the event that you would accuse Us, We would think that Guda, equipped as they are with Command Spells, would be essential to have present. It’s quite a sweet sentiment especially compared to the sharpness of your deductions. We have misgivings about the future of pan-human history. In any case, We have warned Guda time and time again. That should the mankind of pan-human history prove themselves to be unpardonably hideous beings, We will revive the Qin once more. Da Vinci: Then…… Shi Huangdi: Oops, wait three seconds before you get truly angry. We do not mean to say We will implement that plan immediately. We have no intention of hindering Guda’s efforts. We came to your pan-human history to see with Our own eyes your struggle, and should you fall into trouble, We shall spare no effort to lend Our assistance. After all, We have already abdicated Our throne in favor of a virtuous successor.  Holmes: ……Then why the shady behavior? Shi Huangdi: It is Our belief that hope for the future will be pioneered by Guda, and you allー the “people.” However, faith and trust are two different things. After all, We are a politician. We do not engage in gambling. Should Guda shrink from their duty as a human inhabiting this world at the unprecedented crisis known as the bleaching of humanity …… At that time, We will become responsible for humanity again. “A humanity according to esteemed people.” Da Vinci: ………… Sion: ーRejected. That’s a contract built on the premise of defeat. Is there any other name for that than betrayal? Shi Huangdi: There certainly exist Heroic Spirits that dedicate themselves to Guda under pretense of friendship and conviction. However. Would it be okay if a world that could not be saved by “goodness” met its complete ruinationー We are different than those that cannot overlook disarray. Our bond with Guda is righteous. But to defeat the “Alien God” is an even greater justice. Should there come a time wherein these two ideals need be weighed against each other…… We shall choose the heavier one, without hesitation. Such is the duty of an arbiter.  Sion: …… In short, you assert that this is a means to resist the bleaching of humanity? Shi Huangdi: It’s insurance, so to speak. We are a heavenly being that rules over the world of man. An invasion of earth by something inhuman is something We cannot forgive. In the event of Guda’s complete victory over the “Alien God,” We shall forget Our precautions as a needless anxiety. With the dismissal of all Singularities, We shall celebrate this victory of the people. Of course, that was the plan all along. Sion: Good grief. All this talk is hard to believe after seeing another Shi Huangdi who fell into the depths of their delusions at the end of their ambition just a little while ago.  (Agh, I really can’t recognize this person as Their Majesty The Emperor) Shi Huangdi: That is why We keep repeating it. Here We are, living,  2200 years after Our death. Our viewpoint has since changed, and Our worldly desires have perished. You shouldn’t look down on the mental state sainthood achieves.  ……In addition. Considering whether or not this insurance can go as smoothly as We had originally thought, We now possess a smidgeon of anxiety. In the first place, the arrangements for Reyshifting are in no way……  There is another matter that is displeasing. There is a faint smell of heresy. Da Vinci: Heresy? Like what? Shi Huangdi: From the beginning, you all easily saw through Us…… There is no reason why the other Crypters could not do the same thing. Holmes: I’ll tell you in advance that your caution is worthy of recognition. Since it doesn’t seem that you’ll resort to acting rashly. Shi Huangdi: If Guda and everyone else follows Our plan, everything will advance with a rock-solid formation~. Da Vinci: Ahaha. It’s impossible, so just give up. No matter what the reason is, strategies hinging on sacrifices won’t be approved. That goes doubly in Novum Chaldea. Otherwise such a victory would have no meaning. Holmes: ーHm. Although I do agree with some of Your Majesty’s thoughts…… As a matter of practicality, first and foremost must come the felling of the remaining Trees of Emptiness. So long as we have the invader, the “Alien God,” as a common enemy, I do hope our alliance will be maintained. Da Vinci: Yes, it’s safe to say that they bear no malicious intent toward Guda. However, Shi Huangdiー do not forget that we are keeping careful watch over your movements. If you do anything to make that child sad, I won’t forgive you, okay? Shi Huangdi: Then We shall say this. Heroic Spirits. That person is likely the next generation of mankind. We will surely be victorious, no matter what the cost. We shall not need to be roused again.
[in My Room]
Fou: Fou? Fooou! Mash: A- Are you okay, senpai? Did you get sick?
> No, I’m fine > For some strange reason, I got chills……
Mash: ……Okay. You don’t seem to be running a fever. Perhaps someone was talking about you, senpai.
> I hope they’re not saying anything weird…… > Hmm, it’s like I’m carrying a weight on my shoulders……
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T/N:
* EDIT: Shoutout to an anon for being the real MVP and alerting me that, aside from being a compound in Japanese, the kanji Shi Huangdi uses here are in reference to soul-types in Chinese philosophy. The concepts refer to two different souls that exist within the self, representing yin and yang, but I... don’t really want to turn this into a lesson, nor am I an expert (obviously. since I didn’t catch it while translating) so I’d recommend looking into it if curious/wanting to know more about our emperor!
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