Can I politely ask you to elaborate on the Aroace Nene fic you talked about some time ago? Or just simply how you see her in your brain after finding out she's aroace? If it's not much to ask, of course
OMG YES YES YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! absolutely. i will ramble about aroace literally anybody on the drop of a dime this is one of the best anons to get actually
nene's story is actually the one i have the least about, to be perfectly honest. i have a plot for both emu and tsukasa's stories, but haven't quite figured out one for nene. honestly, i think nene's the type of aroace to not really... care about it that much. she'd never cared about love or romance to begin with, so when she realized it was because she was aroace, it was mostly like "hm. cool. im gonna go play animal crossing now".
as for finding out... i think it would have happened in middle school, back when she was Online Gamer Nene TM full time. with how much she loves games and storytelling, it really only makes sense she'd want to engage with fandom content like fics. however, just... seeing the way people sexualize her favorite characters, or only write/draw shipping content... she didn't care for it. she didn't want to engage with that. not that there was anything wrong with it! people can do whatever they want with fictional game characters. she just. didnt care about it herself. which led to her feeling even more isolated even within her favorite hobbies. i think this would sort of lead her to playing a variety of games so she doesn't have to worry about getting absorbed in fandoms she doesn't care to be a part of. she still checks, every once in a while. for games that she really likes. i think its through this that she eventually stumbles across a popular aroace headcannon, goes "what", googles it, and is like "wow. thats me. sick". and then moves on
but like. even when she's moved on. it's still really nice to know, yknow? it explains why she felt like the odd one out not wanting to ship stuff, or even care to entertain it. there's people out there just like her. it makes her less anxious, a little more sure of herself.
she doesn't ever tell anyone. not even rui. (i mean, they hadn't talked in ages. how is she supposed to? "hi, we havent had a genuine conversation in years, how are you? by the way i discovered im aroace and you probably don't know what that means and honestly i dont really care about it myself. have a good day".) (and once they do start talking again, it just... never came up. she never felt the need to, and he never felt the need to ask.) until my epilouge chapter where they all end up coming out like WHAT WERE ALL AROACE THATS SO SILLY anyways
in casual life, i think nene would have been the type for adults to go "oooh, you have a crush on him, don't you? look at you, all red and shy just thinking about him" when shes simply Just Like That. it was really annoying. she knew she didn't like them like that and that was that. but shes too scared to say that so she just took it. definitely didn't help the "nene needs to learn how to make friends" department. honestly, her only relief from it was with rui- both her parents and the kamishiro parents recognized that the two really did care about each other, but it wasn't like that. also no way in hell they're ruining the one friendship their kids have.
later with emu, i don't think there was any point where people even considered a romance, at least not at first glance. it wasn't like people at school even knew about emu (minus when she snuck in, but why would this hyperactive pink thing be looking for that shy second year?). and people walking the streets didn't really assume they liked each other like that since they were two girls. nene's mom was a little curious if they were dating since emu comes over so often and is so physically affectionate, but she never really pressed. she was mostly just happy nene has friends over that aren't just rui. (also, emu's aroace too, so nothing in her demeanor even made nene consider it could have been romantic. shes just Emu.)
for tsukasa, it's a similar thing. by the time people have realized the two are friends, nene's confident in herself and her feelings enough to shut down the people who would even dare assume she likes a buffoon like that star in that way. there's those people that go "oh but you're mean to him and girls are mean to boys when they have a crush on them" but she's tough enough to go "ew" and move on. (she did complain about it a little to rui on a walk home once. if he ended up in her classroom the next day to "grab her for lunch" and weaponize his dangerous reputation to intimidate them when she wasn't looking, it was sheer coincidence.)
also, i think out of the four, nene falls most on the loveless scale. tsukasa, emu, and rui are all beings made of love despite the fact they don't fall in it. nene's a bit different. she cares about her friends, and she's super good at making them (despite what she thinks), but she doesn't really... love them. not in the ways people usually want to describe love. she would kill a man for them in a heartbeat, don't get me wrong. she just experiences those sorts of feelings differently. it's care, and determination, and hope, and happiness, but not... love. not completely.
anyways aroace gamer nene so real fic will happen once i figure out how to tie these ideas to a plot 👍
21 notes
·
View notes
wrote this instead of doing any of my actual tasks <3 tw for brief mention of animal death (by hunting)
Yusuf has been dreading this since the moment they left for Akkala. He had made as many excuses as he could to stay in Goron City for as long as he could, but every one had run out in the end, and he could no longer put off the inevitable.
The first time he had walked this road, his father had accompanied him with a platoon of guards, still cautious, still reeling from the attack that had taken Yusuf's mother. The second time there had been fewer, but still many.
In the years after that, the number of people sent with him had decreased even further until it was only two or three guards, enough to keep him safe. His father stopped accompanying him on these journeys after he turned fourteen and there had been no sign of their worth.
Now, only Nicolò.
He follows, keeping a respectful distance away from Yusuf, but closer than he had walked before they had gone to meet Nile, to ask for her help. He doesn't ever ask to stop, or to slow down, letting Yusuf set the pace. He keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword and does not speak.
What is there to be said? Nicolò knows what lies at the end of this road, even if he does not know what it will mean for Yusuf.
Yusuf can feel Nicolò's eyes on his back. It is bad enough that the whole kingdom knows he is a failure: he does not need Nicolò to watch him fail and say nothing.
The sun is low, casting the landscape in burnt orange. It would be beautiful were it not so horribly familiar. There is a cabin nearby, and not far from it, the Spring. They will stay in the cabin tonight; they will leave for the Spring in the morning and spend three days there, then return to Goron City and after that, the castle.
Yusuf thinks about returning, about his father's inevitable disappointment, and feels sick.
“Yusuf,” Nicolò says, sounding uncertain. He is not yet used to calling Yusuf by his name. “We are not far, yes?”
Yusuf had forgotten that Nicolò does not know every cursed inch of this road the way Yusuf does. “No, not far. In a moment you'll see the cabin.”
Nicolò says nothing. Yusuf glances back just long enough to meet his eyes before looking away.
What is Nicolò thinking? Yusuf can never tell.
Yusuf catches sight of the cabin a moment later. Dread sits like a stone in his stomach.
When they get closer, Nicolò takes hold of his elbow, gentle. It startles Yusuf all the same - he hadn't realised Nicolò was that close to him.
“Let me go first,” Nicolò says. “To check. But stay close.”
Yusuf nods, and lingers barely a handspan from Nicolò's back while he surveys first the outside, then the inside, of the cabin. Once he's satisfied, he gestures for Yusuf to enter.
“You should rest,” he says, and he is being so gentle with Yusuf it almost hurts. Perhaps Andromache has told him what this will mean for him: she has accompanied him before.
Yusuf shakes his head, because sleep means dreams, and dreams will be worse. “What are you going to do?”
“I am going to find something for dinner,” Nicolò says.
“Let me come with you,” Yusuf says. Anything is better than sitting in this cabin alone with his thoughts.
Nicolò looks at him for a long moment. Perhaps he takes pity on Yusuf, or perhaps he thinks that it will be easier to keep Yusuf safe if he stays with Nicolò. Either way, he nods. “All right.”
----------
Finding something for dinner means that Nicolò leads Yusuf a little way into the woods, far enough that the foliage and the dying sunlight makes it difficult to see, and bids him hide beneath a tree, in a space formed by the roots, while Nicolò crouches beside him with his bow, nocking an arrow in one smooth, seamless motion. From his vantage point, Yusuf can see a small clearing with a few fallen trees.
“Do not move,” Nicolò instructs him in a whisper, “and do not make a sound.”
Yusuf rests his head against the tree and watches the leaves move in the breeze. It is quiet enough that all he can hear is their rustling, the sounds of birds and animals calling to each other, the rushing of the stream nearby. After a moment, and with nothing else to watch, Yusuf begins to watch Nicolò.
He has gone as still and as quiet as the trees around them, barely breathing, his shoulders rising and falling only slightly, like he has become a part of the forest. Faron Woods is much further south from here, but Yusuf supposes that this forest must be somewhat similar to where Nicolò grew up. He wonders who taught him to hunt; who taught him to be so comfortable in this place. Why he left it behind to travel to the castle and work for the king.
There are a lot of things Yusuf wonders about him. He cannot tell if Nicolò is aware of Yusuf’s watching; he must be. Still, Yusuf cannot help but watch.
It happens faster than Yusuf can track. Nicolò goes entirely still, and draws his bow swiftly, silently. Yusuf holds his breath and so does the forest.
Nicolò lets the arrow fly.
Yusuf doesn’t see whether it finds its mark, but Nicolò looks for a moment and then stands. “Wait here,” he says to Yusuf, and then heads for the clearing. When he returns he’s carrying something behind his back, the arrow in his other hand. Blood drips onto the grass.
“You can wait inside while I prepare it, if you prefer,” Nicolò says haltingly. Yusuf shakes his head, and so he sits on a log outside while Nicolò skins the rabbit, arms wrapped around his knees and chin drawn up to his chest. Nicolò keeps his back to Yusuf, shielding most of it from view.
Who taught him this? Yusuf wonders. It is a part of Nicolò he has never seen before.
When it is done, he takes it back inside to cook over the fire, and they eat it alongside the bread and cheese they brought from Goron City, across from each other at the cabin’s little table.
“When do you want to leave, tomorrow?” Nicolò asks softly.
“I don’t,” Yusuf says before he can stop himself, and then adds, “I don’t know. Early, probably.” The thought bursts the little bubble he’s been in since they arrived. He doesn’t want to leave, could stay here for the three days they’ve been allocated and return to his father without even having tried and it would change nothing.
“Just after sunrise, then,” Nicolò says. “It is not far, you said?”
Yusuf shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Not far.”
----------
The water is freezing.
It has always been freezing. But Yusuf knows well enough that if he stands in it for long enough, it will start to warm. It reaches to around halfway up his thigh; when he was younger, it felt deeper.
The stone in front of him offers nothing. No sign, no indication that anything is listening to him except for the water and Nicolò, who has been standing at the gate of the Spring for however long he has been in here. Has he been listening? Has he heard Yusuf pleading for something, anything, dreading the moment he returns to the castle and his father looks down at his left hand and sees nothing there?
What does Nicolò think of him now? If he did not see a failure before, does he see one now?
His legs may be going numb. They tremble beneath him, struggling to hold his weight. How long has he been standing here?
“Tell me what I am doing wrong,” he begs the stone. His voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere else. “I know I am not the one you wanted, but I am trying. I am trying. I have given everything. I do not know how much more I have left.”
The stone says nothing.
Nicolò says, “Yusuf.”
Yusuf hears him without listening, falls to his knees in the water and does not even feel the chill.
“Please,” he pleads. “I cannot return – I cannot give anymore.”
There is a splash behind him, and then there is Nicolò, pulling him to his feet, pulling him from the water. Yusuf tries to hold fast - he cannot leave now or it will have been three days in the Spring with nothing to show for it.
“Yusuf,” Nicolò says again. His grip is gentle but unrelenting, and he is warm. Yusuf, shivering as he is, can’t help but lean into it. “You are exhausted. You are going to freeze. Come with me.”
“I can’t,” Yusuf says, even as he lets Nicolò take his weight, lets him guide Yusuf out of the Spring. “I can’t.”
There is a small paved area where their camp is set up. Nicolò has kept the fire going, or restarted it, while Yusuf was in there, and he half-carries Yusuf over to it now. Yusuf’s legs buckle under him the moment Nicolò lets him go, and he sinks onto something soft laid over the paving stones. He blinks, and there is a bowl in his hands, warming even if he does not really taste it.
“It was never supposed to be me,” Yusuf says without really meaning to.
From across the fire, Nicolò watches him.
“It was supposed to be my mother,” Yusuf whispers. The only sound between them is the crackling of the fire. Yusuf is so, so tired. He has never said this to anybody else, not even Andromache, but he cannot keep the words from rushing out of him now.
“It came to her when she was nineteen,” he says, “and that’s how they knew it would happen in her lifetime. So she trained, and she mastered it, and we were ready. And then she was killed, and because I was the oldest, it came to me.”
He does not like thinking about this. He has not thought about this in years. They do not speak of it anymore.
Nicolò is still watching him.
“I was asleep when it happened,” Yusuf continues. “I dreamt it as it happened, but I didn’t know until later. The moment she died, I woke up screaming. They told me afterwards that I was– I was glowing, bright enough that nobody could look at me for long or get close enough to see what was happening to me. They just had to wait until I came out of it. It felt like I was burning.” If he closes his eyes, he is there again, twelve years old and terrified.
“That’s how we know it should be me,” he says after a moment. “Who can do it. Because I did, once, but never again, despite all of this.” He waves at the Spring, the water, the stone.
Exhaustion tugs at him. His eyes will not stay open, but he cannot let himself fall asleep, not yet.
“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he tells Nicolò. “There’s still time.” It cannot be late yet; the sun has gone down, but it is not quite dark. “Don’t let me.”
“You have to rest,” Nicolò says. It is the first thing he has said to Yusuf since he pulled him from the Spring, and Yusuf cannot tell what he is thinking.
“I can’t fall asleep,” Yusuf insists.
“At least let yourself warm up first,” Nicolò says. There is a pile of dry clothes in his hands - where did he get them?
Nicolò convinces him to change and to sit back down, to rest a little while longer. This time he steers Yusuf to sit down on his bedroll instead, and Yusuf’s grip on his arm goes tight.
“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he says again.
“You cannot go on like this,” Nicolò says. “Sleep, and I will wake you in a few hours’ time.”
Yes, a few hours. That, Yusuf can afford. “Promise me,” Yusuf says, but his eyes are already closing unbidden.
Nicolò says nothing.
----------
When Yusuf wakes, it is still dark outside, and there is a cloak that is not his own draped over him. Nicolò is crouched over the fire only a short distance away. He catches Yusuf’s eye, but doesn’t say a word.
It all comes crashing back at once: the water, the stone, Nicolò. Yusuf sits up.
“You didn’t wake me,” he says.
Nicolò watches him for a long moment. “You needed the rest,” he says finally.
Suddenly his consideration stings. “That wasn’t your decision to make. What time is it?”
Nicolò glances at the sky. “It will be sunrise soon.”
Yusuf’s heart sinks. Sunrise means return, means return to the castle and his father with nothing. He gets up, pushes Nicolò’s cloak aside. “You should have woken me.”
Unexpectedly, Nicolò pushes back. “You would have only made yourself ill. You were barely conscious. I would not have done it if–”
“That was not your decision to make,” Yusuf snaps. “I am not a child, Nicolò. I am capable of handling myself. I have lost hours.”
Nicolò does not say anything. Yusuf almost wishes he would keep pushing, but he does not. He simply folds himself back into the same blank expression he always carries, and again, Yusuf cannot read him.
“If the sun will rise soon, there is not much use in staying here for much longer,” Nicolò says eventually, quiet. He doesn’t meet Yusuf’s eyes. Guilt twists his stomach.
Did Nicolò know? Did Andromache warn him? Or was he just worried?
Yusuf nods.
They pack up their camp in silence, side by side. By the time they set off on the road back towards Goron City, the sun has risen, and the early light turns the world around them to gold.
Yusuf walks, and Nicolò follows behind him, as always.
37 notes
·
View notes
Phullo it is I again!
I am very glad that you actually responded and given me an actual advice since I was worried about the question I sent you.
Though besides that I have another question for you (hoorayyy)!
So, about the reading books earlier- I’m fortunately a bookworm too! It’s just that I notice I prefer reading the genre science fiction/psychological horror more than… anything else!
And while the books I am currently reading, ‘Flowers For Algernon’ and ‘I’m Thinking Of Ending Things’ (these books are seriously so wonderfully made they make want to tear my walls), DO have romantic aspects of it- it’s not really the main plot of the story..
‘Flowers For Algernon’ has amazing storytelling and is very unique- though I’m not sure if you’ve read it before but, it’s actually just the main character taking notes. Hence why there was a lot misspellings which honestly makes it a great touch if you know the context behind it.
On the other hand, ‘I’m Thinking Of Ending Things’ too shares the same uniqueness as the other, possibly even more unique if I must say so myself. Though I REALLY don’t want to make my story similar to them since I want to make it more heart warming than fucked up..
Which is why I feel like I have the need to borrow or buy at least one romantic book because, I lack of it. I mean I accidentally borrowed it one time but it was kind of disappointing.
I don’t know if its a good idea and if I should do it or not since does it really matter of the genre, or just the writing?
Still, if you have any good books that are in the romance genre. Feel free to recommend some to me!
-lots of love, from another bookworm
welcome back! happy to hear you're a bookworm as well <3 im writing those titles down since i read a criminal lack of sci-fi despite loving it
i actually don't have any straight up romance recs - i don't actively search it out (outside of fanfic), so any romance i read just comes with whatever book i've picked up. just straight up romance bores me, unless its a fic with a pairing i actively like. and even then, i need to take breaks from it unless the romance is interspersed with an actual plot. im not a romantically-geared person! i dont have single Main Plot Is Romance book on my shelves!
but imo its really just the quality of writing that helps. ive never been in a romance, im the child of two different divorces, and yet ive been told that i write romance fairly well. go fuckin figure lmao.
so actually my advice on romance is to just like. wow idk what i do is pick apart the romances i see on tv / in writing. what makes them good together, how do they act around each other, what are their love languages, what's their dynamic, what traditional romance things do they partake in, what dont they partake in, do they have anything nontraditional, do they work and why do / they dont they - does that make their relationship more interesting or is it flat. are they a good match.
you don't have to have every answer, but ive found that at least understanding their characters / dynamics, and having them interact in a way that suits them will help your romance feel natural. dont conform to tropes or tradition, that will just make the relationship flat and unrealistic. and you can always sprinkle in little things that you like / would like, which will help ground the romance and get you into the groove
tldr with romance, i think it's better to observe real life (whether that's paying attention to couples or reading reddit threads) & analyze in-love or in-a-relationship characters instead of just reading romance novels. bc honestly, and from what i can tell, they can tend to be over the top or cookie cutter
just realized you did not explicitly ask for romance advice! Oopsie! i got a little carried away here....
18 notes
·
View notes