#bc it makes me wonder if the author really doesn't see what makes people people in real life

[handern]

thinking about this post going around talking about re-reading classics once you're older

I wonder if I can stomach Stephen King's absolute jackass way of talking now. I remember opening the Dark Tower and he was talking about himself for ten pages in the intro I wanted to throw the book by the window before even reaching the actual story

same with the Elric series, I really wanted to get into it but after ten pages I was seething with rage I wanted to jump in there and kill Elric with my two bare hands for being such a mirror of the author's jackass world view

[milksnake-tea]

hey all !! normally i wouldn't engage in something like this on my blog, but considering that it's happening to a friend of mine, i felt i had an obligation to speak out. sorry for clogging up the tags/interrupting your scrolling 😭

tldr: @/hxveneru has stolen the works of my good friend @lowkeyren not once, but twice and is deleting any comments calling them out.

edit: they've changed their user to @/yneri; if you've blocked them already, this doesn't really matter bc they're still blocked :) reminder to not engage with them, they're just looking for attention. block and ignore!

i know. fun stuff. proof is under the cut.

please note that i'm doing this of my own accord, and the only involvement ren has had in this post is me asking for permission to post it since, well, it's an issue mainly affecting her.

also i should say beforehand but. don't ??? send them death threats please 😭 we are better than that. i'm mainly making this to spread awareness about the issue :)

reblogs are appreciated to spread awareness.

first stolen work is ren's oneshot "drunk words, sober thoughts!" for aventurine here.

as you can see, it was posted on June 15th, a little over two months before hxveneru posted their own oneshot.

for reference. hxveneru is a new blog and all of their posts are in the month of september, proven here via their archive.

and here's the two oneshots side by side, with ren's on the left and the stolen one on the right.

notice how the oneshots are exactly word-for-word except for the title and synopsis? even the author's note is exactly the same. obviously i can't fit the whole thing here, but this should be enough.

honestly it's. i have to laugh at the audacity to just copy and paste like hello???

and here's the second work that was copied, with hxveneru's "diff scenarios w hsr men" taking from drabbles from two of ren's works.

these are the two fics that were stolen from, with their dates attached. both are posted far before september. links are here and here if you want to double check..

now let's look at the drabbles that were - once again, copy and pasted. first is blade's, again with ren on the left and the stolen one on the right (ren's is circled bc they didn't take the hcs part).

and here is the sunday drabble that was stolen.

so far, those are the only works posted on their blog. i was also informed that they had apparently stolen from @/exuvianen's post here but deleted it, but since said post is deleted, we don't have evidence for that so take it with a grain of salt.

but yeah! just wanted to let yall know out there, especially since the plagiarized works have already gained some traction and have 100+ notes on them. i've talked about them vaguely on my blog before, so if this sounds familiar, yeah this is them.

plagiarism is shitty, i shouldn't have to say that. it is not that hard to just write your own stuff. i know validation and publicity make you feel good, but stealing someone else's hard work is not the way to go. writers already have enough to deal with. just don't do it. what's the point of getting validation if it's not even your work?

again, don't send death threats, please. that's a bit far, and they likely won't even do anything since the plagiarizer has already been called out before and this was their response.

not a single ounce of remorse or shame. people have gotten way too comfortable on here.

also "who the hell is ren anyway" bestie you blocked her 😭😭 and ignored her ask to you. that's why ren can't dm her to sort it out privately btw, in case you were wondering.

anyways! that's all i have to say, thanks for sticking around this long and have a great rest of your day. hxveneru if you see this. hi ig ?? id say smth to you but i doubt you'd take it seriously so i won't <3

[hibiscusseaart]

family headcanons! really leaning onto Hatake side

Thinking about how out of all the kids Motoko who is the most Uchiha looking, Uchiha jutsu, future clan head, acts A LOT like Hatake. She'd devour a steak with blood, as a kid she'd bite everyone.

Many people thought that she gets it from Madara, cuz he looks like he's fucked up in the head ( i mean they are correct but he didn't bite ppl and doesn't like blood and raw meat in his food). But no, it's actually Hatake blood from Tobirama.

Nari would be quite the Hatake too cuz she'd be like "I need to challenge every single authority to make sure they have the right to boss me around"

Akemori, even if he looks the most Hatake, he has more Senju temper and behaviour. But he did bite, cuz that's how they do that in the family. But actually if you let any child to bite without consequences and even encouraging it, they would.

Tobirama would be "ah the normal child behaviour". He'd gently bite all of his kids and ofc Madara too. He's a mate now after all.

Sometimes Tobirama even playfights his pups. For Uchiha it'd quite a culture shock, cuz they got used to ethereal, calm and graceful clan head's spouse. To see him goofing around with his kids and throwing them in the dirt and sometimes biting them. Who does that?!

Madara is perfectly okay with that, even though he had to get used to a child regularly nibbling his arms or neck. Izuna, unexpectedly, took it well. He'd bite his nephew and nieces out of spite, cuz how DARE they.

Also Nari looks a lot like Tobirama and Izuna's daughter. Plus when she grows up she'd also wear a ponytail. Madara is torn cuz he loves his brother very much, but also it's HIS daughter.

also idk if Izuna would marry and have his own kids. he's too busy suspecting Tobirama and spoiling his nieces and nephew.

Oh, I forgot to talk about their senses! All the kids are quite good sensors, cuz, Tobirama is one, Madara too, so it's only logical. In the future Uchiha would actually possess a nice line of sensors in the main branch.

So from best to worst: Tobirama. Akemori, Nari, Madara, Motoko.

Motoko isn't the best sensor, but she inherited Hatake's nose! She hates spicy food bc of it and actually bland food. It's her very not-Uchiha trait, that made her a nightmare to feed when she was a child. Uchiha like their food really seasoned*.

Motoko's fav food is steak with blood and sashimi.

** interesting thought occured to me, Senju probably grow many plants, food and spices as well. It was probably a tradition that came around when not only Hashirama was the Mokuton wilder but many in the clan. I believe it was hard to keep Mokuton babies alive bc or the violent nature of it. Imagine how actually happier Uchiha became when they could buy spices SO much cheaper than to import it from somewhere else. Plus of course it's much more cheaper to buy food from close by Senju and then in the village. One of the reasons not to be against peace :)

Ofc the minute Tobirama's aunt - the Hatake clan head - hears that he has his own pup, she'd get the whole clan to go to Konoha for a visit!

Uchiha, and other clans are terrified. Hatake don't have a nice reputation and now the whole clan wants to visit??? With kids (which they're very possessive and protective) and huge wolves??? And the Hokage lets them cuz the clan head is his aunt???? No wonder Senju are so weird sometimes.

While the Hatake visit, every clan prays that it's just a visit and that they would leave (lmao no). Not only cuz they're freaky, but also of their continuous reputation of adopting any stray children.

Clans clam up and don't let their kids out of their sight.

Uchiha are especially fucked cuz the Hatake plan to visit them especially. Fucking "thank you", Tobirama, what the fuck.

And Tobirama is entirely calm about it. He treats like the usual thing ever. So when good portion of the clan goes through gates, they just SWARM Tobirama and little Motoko (she's probably a year old at this point), scenting them and trying to take a good look at the baby. Ofc they bear gifts. Meat, furs, weaponry. Maybe even wolf pup for the baby!

Though maybe at first the clan head didn't really want to acknowledge Motoko (like with Hashirama*), cuz she has really Uchiha coloring and face, so she's not really a Hatake. But Motoko started her little growls and yips and anxiously biting Tobirama cuz of many new people and smells and Tobirama's aunt was like "Oh, okay, she's one of us"

** I like the idea of Hatake clan head, who doesn't really think Hashirama is a Hatake and he's heartbroken by it. But, I think it's not because of the coloring or how he acts. I think it's mostly cuz she HATES Butsuma and when they meet for the first time Hashirama was really hero worshipping his father and it ticked Hatake off. So she probably never actually try to connect with Hashirama again cuz she's still sure that Hashirama is the same as Butsuma.

Maybe Butsuma took her sister as a bride in a marriage hunt and Hatake were pissed, but accepted it, cuz Senju are much stronger and have more ppl. If they'd angered Senju they'd be destroyed.

Because of it, Tobirama never actually considered to make Madara his husband this way. Plus I think for this to work the way he wanted (to infiltrate Uchiha) he needed to be the one who marries in the clan and if he'd try to do that with Madara it would work the other way around.

(i adopted many of @oh-no-its-bird hcs about Hatake clan if you can tell)

[lovemyromance]

See, you know what really WRANKLES MY CANKLES (figuratively ofc, these ankles are sexy af don't worry)

We have the entirety of the GA/EL ships getting angry because of some trolls pretending to be Elriels. Like .... you're gonna tell me you see an account called "LuciendroolsAzrielRules" and not realize it's a troll? Okay.. whatever. But all this "proof" about Elriels being "toxic" is just random ass screenshots of no-name, burner accounts saying extremely problematic shit. I've not once seen any known Elriel post anything like that.

And yet, on the other side - we REGULARLY see both large and small GA/EL accounts - not burners - accounts with real people - vocal large creators ...

Posting some ALSO very problematic shit. Like:

- implying Elain can't be with Azriel because her anatomy makes her unable to bear his children

-> And EL/GAs love to say "nobody says this anymore". And yet, we had a whole article come out about that exactly and huge EL/GA accounts doubled down, assigning blame to the author for writing it instead of instead of calling it out as problematic.

- insinuating that Elain belongs to Lucien even though she's shown no signs of wanting him

- claiming that Elain & Azriel having feelings for each other is cheating bc ahem, she belongs to Lucien duh.

- Claiming Azriel doesn't deserve love till he fixes his trauma and heals

- Calling Elain used goods, second best, rebound, a distraction, etc

- Implying Elain & Gwyn cherish and go around sniffing the cloaks Azriel & Lucien gave them like it wasn't an extremely traumatic moment for both of them???

- turning all of Gwyn's achievements into signs she's made for a man

- claiming Elain not using gifts from Lucien is her wanting so self harm???

Like these are all problematic. And they are from large, common creators within the fandom. Not burners. They are literally so vocal about their own toxic opinions and yet they use these random trolls on the internet to blame the Elriels as a whole.

Like there's always going to be bad apples in a bunch i know. In the entire Elriel community I'm sure there's those with problematic toxic opinions sure.

But when EVERY GA/EL has the same problematic takes - doesn't even accept they're problematic - doesn't care to do anything except play the blame game ....

It really makes you wonder why the fuck they even read the books.

[thehighladywrites]

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…

Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned

Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.

Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…

Word count: 6,5 k words

If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️

"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.

"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.

"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.

You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.

You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.

“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.

“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”

The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”

He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.

As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.

——————

Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.

——————

For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.

You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,

“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.

Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.

————————————

But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.

But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.

————————————

After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.

As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.

You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.

You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.

You’d pick her over you too.

—————————

Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”

Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”

You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”

He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”

You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“

"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?

Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.

“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.

"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.

————————————

He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.

————————————

As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.

Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.

Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.

Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head

Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.

He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.

———————————

Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.

The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.

“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”

Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.

He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.

Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.

"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"

Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.

You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.

The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.

A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.

The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.

The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.

The one that cemented your feelings for him.

He gave it to Elain.

The one he was kissing last night.

The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.

The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.

The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.

“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.

“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”

Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.

Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.

“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”

You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.

"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.

————————————

Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.

“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”

“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”

His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.

After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.

“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?

“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.

Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.

As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”

His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.

“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”

The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.

“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”

“ Y/n, let me just-”

“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.

“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.

His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.

“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.

He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”

A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.

He knew and he didn’t care.

A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.

How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?

You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.

————————————

You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.

A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.

“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.

“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.

"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.

"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.

"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.

“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.

“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.

Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.

—————————

Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.

He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.

————————————

Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.

“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.

“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.

“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.

You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.

“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”

You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.

“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.

“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.

You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.

“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.

———————————————

Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.

“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.

“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.

“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.

“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”

They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.

“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.

————————————

You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.

After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.

The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.

Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.

“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”

She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”

She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”

The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.

————————————

After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"

You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.

Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.

—————

TWO YEARS LATER

At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.

Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.

“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”

He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."

You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”

Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."

Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”

Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.

Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.

He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.

You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.

[acedocx]

it's all been done, more than once

•

h.k.

word count: 13.4K

tags: hueningkai x reader, rockstar!musician!hyuka, college au, reader has anxiety, description of a panic attack, no this is not me projecting shut up, also i suck at writing drunk people please ignore, fluff, slow burn kinda but not really

warnings: swearing, alcohol use, depictions of panic attacks/anxiety, shitty formatting bc the author doesn't know how tumblr formatting works

🎸 author's note: hello! this is my first ever fic, please be kind to me. i started it way back in july, forgot about it, and then was hit with the divine inspiration to finish the whole thing in a week. enjoy!

•••

"are you having fun yet?"

it was all you could do not to smash the overpriced, slightly flat vodka redbull in your hand over your friend's head.

being in college means the acceptance of two undeniable truths: making questionable decisions and being broke. this is how you often found yourself at these cheap, shitty dive bars.

your lovely, wonderful best friend beomgyu (who would not appreciate having a glass smashed over his head and his outfit ruined, you reminded yourself) was the main perpetrator of your frequent nights out. beomgyu had bought in very early to the "college-is-freedom, good-time-not-a-long-time" mindset, often dragging you out at obscene hours during the summer to whatever club or bar was still open.

and then the next one.

and the next.

fortunately for the both of you (mostly him), classes didn't start for the fall semester for about another week. not that he had anything to worry about, he was kind of a genius—school came as naturally as breathing to him, something you had always sort of envied.

you forced a pained smile and spoke as loudly as you could through gritted teeth,

"yep. loads."

truth be told, you hated bars. they were loud, overwhelming, overpriced, unclean, and more often then not, way too crowded—people packed together like sweaty, drunk sardines. it's not like you were a germaphobe, but it's places like this where you were coming into contact with way more bodily fluids than you felt comfortable with.

the bar you found yourself in now was admittedly on the cleaner side, and to beomgyu's credit, he did pick the one you hate the least—a bar called 'annex'. it was an accurate name, as the bar was a small addition to a bigger restaurant, and was pretty charming despite its size.

it was certainly not without flaws; the chipped wooden bar barely left enough space for the bartenders to move around, even without the addition of bottles of liquor, miscellaneous knick-knacks, and probably illegally obtained road signs lining the walls. every time you looked, you saw something you hadn't seen before. had that poster been there the last time? what about the traffic light?

you really didn't like this scene at all—it made you nervous. but you loved beomgyu, and it's not like you didn't enjoy a drink or two, so it was kind of difficult to say no—especially once your cognitive abilities had been reasonably dampened by the alcohol.

"woahh...negative nancy over here," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender and stumbling back a bit.

"that is not my name." you couldn't help but crack a small smile at beomgyu and his outdated phrases.

"i know what your name is, silly...it's an esspression!"

"ex-pression. how many drinks does that one you have there make?"

"s'what i said....and only like....three." you could see the gears in his head turning. "or...maybe...maybe six...which s'basically the same!" beomgyu said indignantly.

you rolled your eyes. you felt kind of bad being so off-put by the place, you didn't want to ruin gyu's fun—but you couldn't help it. your head was beginning to pound from the lights and the overwhelming sound of chatter coming from every direction, and the walls felt like they were closing in further and further by the second.

neon signs and LED lights were about the only illumination in the room, bathing everyone in purple, red, and blue hues. the poorly painted black stool you sat on wobbled as you craned your neck at the crowd in front of you; people were crammed together at tables, lined up outside the never-empty bathroom—or for the most part, directly in front of the tiny stage at the far end of the room.

before you could protest, the conversations in the room noticeably quieted—the humming noise of a guitar amp being plugged in and the feedback from a microphone replacing the voices.

this was the only part you truly kind of enjoyed. the music. most of the music at these kinds of places was...subpar at best; cover bands butchering classics, some guy in a graphic tee and flannel with guitar tabs on his phone thinking he's the next elliot smith—usually cringey, but entertaining nonetheless. but every once in a while, there will be a singer or a band that seems too big for the cardboard box of a bar they're in, too talented for such a small audience.

he looked about the same as any college musician would—nervous, a little shaky, bright eyed with hope that hasn't quite been crushed by the world yet (and probably aided by a few drinks, too).

he was tall—like, tall. imposing, almost, with broad shoulders and long limbs, juxtaposed with a soft, anxious expression. his clothes caught your eye too—black band tee, ripped black jeans, and what looked to be a black leather battle vest covered in patches you couldn't quite make out and studs on every seam. his grey-blue hair fell into his eyes as he adjusted the microphone from where it hit at about chest-height.

your eyes lingered on his hands. they moved from the microphone and found the neck and strings of the guitar like they belonged there; despite his air of nervousness, there was no doubt he knew exactly what to do with the instrument he had.

you cut your eyes at beomgyu, who attempted to make his way towards the stage before nearly faceplanting onto the black tile floors, catching himself on your shoulder and almost pulling you down with him.

"THAT'S my FRIEND! i-i live with that guy, he's my FRIEND—my BRO, guys! you GOT this, kai, you can...do it! m'so proud of you, bro!" beomgyu raised his drink in the air in an unsteady toast—most of the contents sloshing out and onto your clothes in the process—as he leaned against your shoulder. laughter rippled through the audience and you groaned, screwing your eyes shut, head in your hands in embarrassment.

the boy—kai, his name seemed to be, looked similarly embarrassed, ears tinged red and eyes closed. he shook his head, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

"um, hi. i'm hueningkai, or...just—just kai, as my, uh—friend said." he cleared his throat again, taking a shaky breath before continuing. "i'll be playing some music for you guys tonight—mostly original things, but some covers if i hear any good requests, 'kay?" kai gave a small half-smile, fingers finding the frets of the guitar again.

and then he began to play. and you probably had whiplash from how quickly your head snapped up from your hands. the sound that filled the room wasn't a soft cover of some old song—it was loud. it was sharp. the sound of gritty, messy, but intentional and practiced guitar pierced the room, instantly igniting the crowd of people that had gathered around the stage to see this kid play.

"holy shit," you whispered incredulously.

his voice perfectly broke and rasped where the music called for it, gaze shifted from soft to trenchant—all previous nerves seemed to have dissolved. he looked like a different person.

"holy shit," you repeated again to no one in particular. "this guy's a rockstar."

you became suddenly aware that you were no longer being used as an armrest. beomgyu had managed to regain enough composure to stumble his way into the crowd near the front of the stage, cheering and flailing about in what was probably supposed to be dancing.

you were torn between recording him for blackmail purposes later and going to get him before he got sick all over the other guests. finally deciding on the latter, you slid off the stool, a little woozy yourself.

you made it to beomgyu on two feet with no trouble, gently taking him by the shoulders, pulling him back towards the bar.

"come on buddy, you need some water in you, or you're gonna hate yourself tomorrow," you chided as he squirmed away from you.

"noooooo....m'having fun...wanna watch kai," he whined. "that's my—my...my friend...my friend—"

"i know, but i am also your friend, and this friend would rather you not be sick all over these people and the poor staff have to clean it up, you're gonna get us banned from this bar too, come on," you tugged a little harder—goddamn, he was stronger than he looked—sighing in frustration.

in the midst of your battle with beomgyu, your eyes met kai's as he played the final notes of the song. his silvery hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his face and neck which shone with exertion, hands still on the guitar in the position of the final chord. but his eyes. it was his eyes that stopped you.

in them, you saw the thing that you missed from a lot of these dive-bar musicians—from a lot of people in general. granted, covered songs aren't easy to add to, and it's not like it's a concert. but there's no soul in the music. they perform to make money and get out. kai had passion. as cheesy as it sounded, when you looked into his eyes, you knew this was his life, whether he was making money from it or not. the stage was his home, and you knew it.

for a moment, you felt like you couldn't move—paralyzed by this guy with his guitar, his pretty hands and his starry eyes. and then you felt beomgyu lean into your shoulder, head dropping against your shoulder, and the moment was gone.

"i don't...don't feel s'good..." he slurred, his whole body weight against you now. you sighed and propped him up, arm slung around your shoulder as you carried him outside.

"yep, see, i told you. this is why you shoulda listened to me when i told you three drinks ago that you should slow down. alright, let's get you back home, buddy."

you cast one last glance over your shoulder at kai, still panting from exhaustion and exhilaration, eyes still bright with the high of the music. you wondered if he even knew how bright he shone on that stage.

•••

"you did this to yourself, gyu."

"if you...speak again, i'm throw—urgh—i'm throwing up on your shoes next," beomgyu groaned.

thank the powers that be for the invention of the uber. you had both made it back to gyu's apartment in mostly one piece, and beomgyu himself, poor thing, was now curled up on the cold blue tile of the bathroom floor, clutching your hand like it was the only thing tethering him to this mortal plane—which, to him, it probably felt like it was.

you'd been here for about two hours, not wanting to leave beomgyu alone, and honestly not totally reconciled with the idea of getting an uber alone at three in the morning.

you'd asked him where his other housemates were, and through his hiccups, groaning, and gagging, you'd deduced that all of them were out for individual reasons; vacation, out with a friend, with family. you weren't sure which was which, and you decided not to push the subject. you hadn't actually met his housemates before, and this probably wasn't the best first impression.

you leaned your head back against the tiled wall of the bathroom, hand rubbing circles on beomgyu's back. you closed your eyes. your head still swam slightly from the alcohol, even though you had tried not to drink all that much. you looked over pityingly at the long-haired boy beside you, stomach revolting against him. poor thing.

"gyu?"

"ugh..."

"do you want me to get you more water?" you asked softly.

"ugh..."

"i'm assuming that's a yes. okay, i'll be back."

you pushed yourself to your feet, steadying yourself and making your way to the kitchen.

the apartment was small, but cute in a way. cozy. and messy, you noted; even in your altered state, you did double takes at some of the odd sights you saw around the place. why on earth is there a bike in the kitchen? you asked yourself, making a note to ask beomgyu about it at a later date.

as you finished pouring what was probably the sixth glass of water in two hours, you heard the handle of the front door begin to turn.

you spun to face the door in alarm. was someone trying to break in? what on earth could you do in this situation? you can't fight, you can't even walk straight! oh god, someone's gonna come in, rob gyu and his housemates blind, kill you twice—

the door opened and you were met with the same grey-blue hair and soft eyes you had seen on the stage two hours ago. ah, that's right. five people live here.

"oh, um, hi," you mentally smacked yourself in the head at your alarm. of course he lives here, beomgyu said it earlier. of course he's getting home now, it only makes sense. you quickly set the glass of water down and tried to smooth out your most likely unfixable outfit. "hi. i'm beomgyu's friend, i was with him at the bar you played at tonight. he's, uh, he's in there," you motioned toward the bathroom with a grimace. "he's...not doing too great."

hueningkai looked just as surprised to see you, mouth open slightly in shock, shaking his head to bring himself back.

"ah, thank you. he really can't hold his alcohol, can he? sorry about this, by the way, oh god, it's a mess in here—" red crept up his face as he took in the mess of the kitchen. you giggled slightly; maybe it was the alcohol, but you had the passing thought that he's kind of cute like this.

"don't worry about it, i'll be gone tomorrow. hueningkai, right? i watched you play, you're really good," you say.

he averted his eyes, half-smiling, ears still red. "ah, thank you, yes that's me. i appreciate that. and just kai is—is fine," he said, glancing once at you and away again.

you were suddenly extremely aware of how you looked—clothes twisted at odd angles from hours on the floor, hair simultaneously sticking to your face and out in all directions, face colored pink from embarrassment and the aforementioned vodka redbulls.

you quickly began trying to adjust your hair and you opened your mouth to respond, but were cut off from a drawn-out groan from the bathroom, making both you and kai cringe slightly. you sucked a breath in through your teeth.

"yeah, i'm gonna get this water to him before he starts trying to crawl out here after me. nice to meet you, kai," you say, waving slightly and grabbing the glass off the table, walking what you hoped didn't look like too quick a speed back to the bathroom, praying you didn't trip and fall.

•••

you refused the next time beomgyu invited you out, hoping desperately to avoid another tipsy run-in with kai.

realistically, you weren't that drunk, and surely you hadn't looked all that bad—at least not nearly as bad as gyu did. however, in the days since you arrived back to your dorm, you had managed to convince yourself that you could never look hueningkai in the face again, it would simply be too mortifying.

the last days of the summer holiday slipped by quickly, and classes began with much anticipation and even more dread.

the walk to your first lecture felt like miles, stomach twisting with nerves. you'd done this before. it's only lecture. but there's something about the first day of classes, when you don't know if you'll know anyone, looking upon unfamiliar faces and being thrust into an unfamiliar subject with no idea of how a professor will teach or test—it made you nauseous with anxiety every time.

and unfamiliar subject matter it was. advanced music theory and appreciation. you were a senior in college, an english major, and had finished up the majority of the required courses to graduate. all that was left was to fill the spaces with electives and courses that maybe you'd find interesting—or that would at least boost your GPA. that is how you ended up here, with a music theory course.

the idea is that it'll boost my GPA, you thought to yourself as you stepped into the chilly lecture hall. if i understand it at all. it did say advanced. you paused in front of the classroom door for a moment, hands shaking slightly. i did choir in high school, i remember the basics. it can't be that bad.

you pushed the door open, immediately greeted with chatter that surrounded you on all sides. you didn't really think to check how many people were in the class, and felt your heart sink into your stomach as you took in the unprecedented number of students. there had to be at least sixty, if not more.

"oh, no. no, no, no, no," you mumble to yourself, frantically scanning the room for a familiar face. your lungs felt as though they were shrinking with every attempted breath, heart rate picking up, uncomfortable warmth creeping up your face.

sixty-plus people who you didn't know, in a subject you didn't know, in a classroom you weren't familiar with—this was your idea of hell. what if you embarrass yourself? what if you don't make any friends? what if you don't understand the material? what if it tanks your GPA? what if—

a flash of blue-grey caught your eye, your head snapping over to the source. you admittedly felt relief wash over you as you recognized the side profile of hueningkai, staring intently at the notebook in front of him, scribbling down something you couldn't make out. there was one open seat left next to him. your only opportunity.

all previous notions of never looking him in the face again forgotten, you hurried from the door, down to the row where he sat. he didn't even notice you approach, too intent on writing what looked to be sheet music. you cleared your throat.

"this seat taken?" you asked softly.

kai's head jerked up, obviously startled, cheeks and ears tinged a familiar red with surprise.

"oh, hi! uh, no, no it isn't, you're good!" he said, shifting to the right as to give you enough room to put your things down. you smiled gratefully at him, hurrying into the seat, immediately feeling some of your nerves dissipate at being sat down at last.

"i'm glad to see a familiar face. i don't know anyone in here," you gave kind of a half-hearted laugh, hoping he couldn't tell how nervous that fact actually made you.

"i understand. that's the worst feeling. im glad i have a few friends in here—oh, one of my housemates is in here actually. but, he's avoiding me right now, i think."

"oh? where? and, why?"

"two rows up, four to the left. and because i maybe ate the last of his cereal this morning," he added sheepishly, glancing up to where you assumed the housemate in question was sitting.

"oh, criminal offense," you said, following kai's gaze. there was a boy there, glaring back down at him. he had plush lips and an intense gaze; his hair was a dark cherry red, his bangs falling messily into his eyes, still remaining somehow fashionable. you turned back to kai, shaking your head in mock disdain. "truly deplorable."

"yes, yeonjun was not happy with me. i'm surprised i made it out of the house alive and in one piece."

you giggled, watching as the boy—yeonjun, kai had said—stuck his tongue out at kai before returning to scrolling on his phone.

before you could start up another conversation, the professor walked in, and a hush fell over the room. you didn't catch the professor's name. or, for that matter, anything else he introduced in his first lesson.

within fifteen minutes, whatever modicum of confidence you had in understanding the course was completely crushed to nothing. these were words you'd never heard before, symbols you'd never seen—half the time, you could've sworn he was speaking another language. he is, you reminded yourself. a lot of music theory jargon is in italian—that makes me feel a little better.

you stopped processing the words coming out of the professor's mouth about forty-five minutes in. you glanced over at kai, not sure whether you'd be more or less relieved if he looked as lost as you.

he didn't, of course. he was completely attentive, eyes locked onto the board at the front of the room, nodding every once in a while in understanding. he didn't even seem to be taking many notes, though he did scribble a few down.

your eyes trailed down once more to his hands, where they fidgeted with his mechanical pencil. you felt that same feeling you did at 'annex', the same thought crossing your mind as when you saw his hands rest on the guitar—his hands, though nervous, were practiced and knowledgeable. and they really are such pretty hands, you thought.

you only came back to yourself when you heard the sound of chairs scraping and people scurrying, the hum of chatter from before resuming.

"you okay? you look..." kai trailed off, looking for a nice way to finish the sentence.

"like all my hopes and dreams of passing have been crushed to dust and i am now reconsidering all decisions that have led me to this moment?"

"uh, yeah, something like that," he laughed.

"i thought he was speaking another language, i felt so lost."

"to be fair, you're half-right, a lot of musical terms are based in—"

"in italian, i know."

you took a deep breath, putting your head in your hands, fingers tangling in your hair as you shook your head slowly.

"i am so undeniably, irrevocably, unequivocally fucked, hueningkai," you said, your tone so serious it almost made you laugh at yourself.

"come on, don't beat yourself up! i'm sure you'll get it!" he encouraged, tilting his head to the side with a half-smile. "hey, if it makes you feel any better, i felt like i had forgotten twenty-two years of learned comprehension skills in my literature class earlier."

"seriously? i love literature!"

"maybe we can help each other out, then."

you gave him a grin, the warmth of a new friendship alleviating the cold dregs of anxiety that still snaked through your stomach. "yeah, maybe so."

maybe this semester wouldn't be so bad.

•••

it was a grey, chilly october afternoon, the air heavy and damp with the coming storm. you glanced through the library study room window for the first time in hours, startled by the lack of light. you and hueningkai had been hunched over a library table, poring over your respective subjects for—how long had it been? four? maybe five hours now? your head swam with intervals and time signatures, scales and symbols you didn't understand.

"think of it like the math part of music," kai had tried to explain. "adding and subtracting different notes, chords, harmonies, dynamics n'stuff, to create an instrumental!"

you had nodded along, made the appropriate "ohhh"'s and "mhm"'s, but truthfully you were no closer to understanding how it worked than you had been when you started. you leaned back in your chair, sighing and wincing as your spine voicing its dissent at your posture.

your eyes fell on kai who was sat in front of you, eyes focused intently on a copy of 'the metamorphosis' by franz kafka, notebook and papers scattered haphazardly across the table. he didn't look to be in much better shape than you were, his brows furrowed and his hand tangled in his hair in a mix of concentration and frustration.

eventually, with a groan of annoyance, kai rested his head on the table, closing the book in defeat.

"but why is he a bug?"

"it's probably a metaphor."

"for what?"

you paused, thinking carefully. "for a lot of things! it depends on how you look at it," you said eventually, and giggled slightly at the unimpressed look on kai's face.

"well, let's see. what do you know about modernist literature?"

"that it was weird.".

"well, yes," you said in mock exasperation. "but what do you know about it historically?"

he thought for a moment, gears turning in his head as he thought back to the lecture notes he had just gone over. your eyes fell on his hands as they often did now, and you noticed that he seemed to be playing an imaginary piano as he thought, as if playing a melody only he could hear.

"let's see...uh, there was a lot of new stuff happening, like in science and psychology and inventions and whatnot," he began, glancing at you for approval and smiling slightly when you nodded at him to keep going.

"world war one had just happened, so there was a lot of unrest and social disorder, and a lot of anxiety and feelings of...maybe isolation? brought around by that," he said, nodding to himself.

"good, you're right! and what are some characteristics of modernist literature?" you asked, excited to be talking about something you understood for once. l

kai furrowed his brows once more, fingers playing that silent melody on the table again. you wondered if he was always composing, even if it was subconsciously.

"um...human thought? like the human psyche? language? perspective? am i even close to the mark here?" he laughed nervously.

"you are, you're doing great! those are all parts of it. so, in conjunction with the social context you mentioned before, maybe gregor being a bug is commentary on the feelings of isolation, loneliness, and anxiety of people during this time! maybe his dislike for his job and the coldness of his higher-ups and family is indicative of kafka's feelings on corporate bureaucracy and capitalism! maybe it's a metaphor for struggling with a chronic condition like an illness that causes the person to become not-themselves, and the rift that it creates in a family, who knows!

"that's the beauty of modernist literature, it all depends on perspective! instead of falling short because, of course, human language is inadequate at actually conveying things, it relies on that fact—the story is different to everyone!" you said excitedly.

literature and writing had really been the only two subjects that had come naturally to you. even music—which you loved and appreciated for it's artistry—was difficult to you when it came to the theory portion. it wasn't that you weren't good at other things, but you never had to work as hard to understand books. there was something in the analysis of it, picking apart the layers of a novel, building a broader historical and social context through the author's commentary—it was just fun for you.

you felt your face warm slightly as you looked back at kai, suddenly slightly embarrassed of your outburst. his expression was unreadable, somewhere between confusion, interest, epiphany, and something soft that sparkled just behind his eyes. it was similar to the glimmer you had seen in them at his first performance at 'annex' a month ago.

but he cleared his throat and looked back down at his notes, and it was gone.

"yeah, yeah, that, um, that makes sense. i hadn't thought about it that way. you'd make a good teacher," he added.

"i guess it's a good thing that it's what i want to do, then," you giggled.

"you want to teach?" he asked, 'the metamorphosis' now forgotten as he propped his chin up with his hand, leaning forward with interest.

you nodded, "mhm! i—well, i guess it's pretty obvious what i want to teach," you said sheepishly. "what about you? what are you majoring in? are you doing something with music?"

kai's expression hardened, and his hands ceased their playing on the table.

"no, i...i'm just majoring in business. i'm taking this class as an elective for credit hours, like you."

"what? really? but...don't you love music?" you asked, bewildered.

"of course i do, more than anything," he murmured, a wistful look in his eyes. "but it won't go anywhere. it doesn't make enough money, and i just...don't think i'm good enough for it to be a stable career choice, honestly."

you were genuinely floored. kai seemed puzzled at your bewildered expression, snickering a little at your wide eyes and mouth that was slightly ajar. eventually you found words again, shaking your head slightly as you spoke.

"not, not good—are you kidding ?! you don't think you're a good enough musician to have a career in it?!" you couldn't believe it. this boy who you believed to be a true star, who had music in every aspect of his being, didn't believe he was good enough to be a musician.

"well, i mean...no, not really," kai said hesitantly, obviously a little stunned by your reaction.

"sorry, it's just...i can't believe that," you scoffed, shaking your head again. "i can't believe it. you're amazing, i mean truly amazing—with all due respect, the other musicians at 'annex' have nothing on you."

you began to see that familiar tinge of red make its way across kai's face and ears as he smiled shyly.

"thank you, thanks, that—that means a lot, but...i mean, it's just such an oversaturated industry, y'know? everyone wants to make music and get famous. and it just, it sucks, because it's about the money and not the craft. i'm not an elitist or anything, there's a lot of modern music that i love! but it really bothers me to see music that isn't made out of expression or originality, but made for money or fame, y'know?"

you nodded slowly, feeling a pang of sadness for him. you wanted to tell him how good he really was, how the first time you had seen him perform you couldn't take your eyes off of him, how you admired the way his hands looked at home on the frets of a guitar, how he seemed music incarnate to you.

but the words seemed to stick in your throat, and all you could respond with was a choked, "yeah."

the silence that followed was denser than the air outside. you noticed it had finally begun to rain, sunset obscured by dark clouds as it came down in sheets of blue-grey. like kai's hair, you thought, before immediately shooing the idea away. you broke the silence first, standing and stretching your stiff limbs, groaning at the ache of sitting in one place for five hours.

"oh-kay, if we're gonna keep up this studying thing, i've got to get some caffeine in me before i actually fall asleep. are you down for coffee?" you asked, already throwing your binders and papers back into your backpack.

"yeah! yeah, for sure," kai responded, words still slightly stilted from the awkward silence.

you turned towards the door quickly, trying to suppress the thought of how cute he looked when he was embarrassed. you noticed his hands had begun playing again—a different, slower melody.

"wonderful! you're driving."

•••

"what do you mean the heating doesn't work? do you enjoy misery? do you crave death?" your voice came out shaky and uneven, spoken through chattering teeth as you felt the cold rain soak deeper into your clothes. hueningkai looked at you, face a mix of amused and apologetic.

"i told you, we should've gone in your car. here, there's blankets in the back," he reached back behind the passenger seat (putting you in close proximity, which you tried not to think about) and pulled out a fluffy throw blanket, which you gratefully accepted.

"no heating, no cameras, no nothing—dude, how old is this car?"

"well, i've had it since high-school," kai mused, "and it was my dad's before it was mine. it's from 2002, it's not that old!"

"is there even bluetooth in this thing?"

"nope, but there is a cd player!"

"oh god, it's like the fuckin' dark ages," you groaned dramatically, sliding down into the worn leather seat of kai's car. he rolled his eyes at your theatrics, scoffing at you as he pulled out of the library parking lot. you gave him a teasing smile, pointing to the glove box.

"cds are in here?"

he nodded, and you took that as permission to take a look for yourself.

"alright, let's see, what does mr. music theory have to listen to—oh, there's some good stuff in here! alice in chains, metallica, paramore—i love paramore, awesome, awesome...the offspring, so true—wait, holy shit, is this 'selfish machines'? i love pierce the veil!"

"and what do you know about pierce the veil?" kai laughed.

"hey, i thought you weren't an elitist," you teased. "i still like my middle school emo music, thank you very much. but my best friend from high-school loved pierce the veil, even saw them in concert once. this one and 'a flair for the dramatic' were their faves," you explained.

"they have good taste. that's the reissue, i think—the one from 2013?" when you gave a small hum of confirmation, kai continued, "i like that one. it has one of my favorite songs on it."

"oh, the bonus track, you mean? i like that one too—'kissing in cars', right?"

"mhm," he said, smiling as you opened the case and pushed the cd into the drive. the familiar fast drums and the piercing sound of the guitar filled the car, and you sighed, reminiscing on drives like this with your friend—simpler times. you had moved away, and they went to a different college now, but you still talk.

"they just have such a cool sound," kai observed, and you hummed in agreement, smiling slightly still.

"kai, you write your own music and stuff, right?" you inquired, suddenly curious.

"yeah, why?

"what's the hardest part about it, and what do you enjoy the most? composition? lyrics?"

"no one's ever asked me that before." kai looked slightly shocked at the question, but quickly shook his head, turning his eyes back to the road. "i think lyrics are the hardest. building instrumentals and making sure they flow together is fun, but putting lyrics to them isn't always easy. that whole thing about originality and expression applies here too—everything has been said in every way, and it's hard to find a way to express what i'm trying to say in a...i dunno, a meaningful way, an impactful way, y'know?"

"yes, i understand. the ineptitude of human language strikes again," you mused. "just like the modernists said."

kai went quiet, and you could see the gears turning in his head as the understanding dawned on him. "yeah...yeah, yes, exactly!" kai exclaimed excitedly. you smiled fondly.

"see, you got it! but yeah, i'd imagine lyrics are hard. i mean, just writing in general is hard, especially stuff like poetry."

"do you write?"

"mmm, sometimes! less than i used to—mostly just sporadic things typed into my phone at ungodly hours of the night when i just...need to get the feelings out. my poor notes app has seen lifetimes, it's a war zone in there," you laughed.

"makes sense! that's usually when i do my lyrics too, but more often than not, that's when i start producing. it's like as soon as the feeling hits me, the melody...just manifests in my head, and i have make it right then," kai responded eagerly.

you had completely lost track of the time, enraptured by the conversations, barely even registering when you pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop. as the first notes of the final track on the album began to play, you moved to undo your seatbelt and get out of the car, but kai's hand on your wrist stopped you.

"wait, can we...can we listen to this one first?" he asked, seemingly shocked at his own actions, familiar blush becoming visible once more.

"yeah."

your voice was barely above a whisper, and you almost couldn't tell if you had said the words aloud. all your attention was focused on where kai's hand met yours, sending electricity through your entire body. when his hand finally moved from your wrist, you couldn't ignore the empty disappointment that settled in your chest.

this was the opposite of whatever you had felt in that classroom, or in any bar. it was like the world had disappeared, dissolved by the rain, the only remnants of it the sound of the downpour and the song playing softly from the speakers. as you watched kai as he listened to the music, you thought he looked almost worshipful, eyes closed and lips parted slightly, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, his hands once again playing invisible keys—in those moments, it truly felt like you were the only two people in the world.

this intimacy, the feeling of being alone with another person, it was almost suffocating—in the best way. like your lungs were full of energy that begged to be released instead of being choked by panic.

and though all you were doing was sitting in a car with a boy you had barely become friends with, listening to an old album on a shitty stereo, as surely thousands had done before you and thousands would after, it felt sacred—like it was an experience only you and kai could share.

the song began to fade out, and kai turned, opening his eyes and holding your gaze. starry, glimmering eyes—they held galaxies, universes. the feeling when you looked into them was a sensation not unlike vertigo; the force of it could've knocked you over had you been standing.

"we're here," kai murmured.

"yeah," you breathed.

"we should...go inside," he whispered again.

"yeah," you echoed, as if it was the only thing you knew how to say. he was the first to break the eye contact, nodding and giving a small smile as he turned off the car and opened the door.

everything rematerialized around you; the cars, the bustle, the people—the moment was over, and suddenly you were once again surrounded by the crushing weight of the world around you.

•••

it was a coincidence that kai happened to be playing at the bar you were going to. or, at least it was enough of a coincidence that you could convince yourself it was just a coincidence.

fall break had finally rolled around, and you had at last gotten into the swing of things, your grades were comfortable, mostly thanks to your study sessions with hueningkai that happened roughly twice a week—which you didn't want to admit were becoming more and more difficult to focus in.

predictably, beomgyu had insisted the two of you go out to celebrate the break.

"but it's for a good reason! to like....celebrate making it this far and stuff!" he whined at you from your doorway.

"don't give me that, you will take any excuse to get wasted, gyu," you answered, sprawled on your bed as you scrolled through your phone.

"that is not true, and i am offended that you would insinuate such a thing. on an unrelated note, pretty please can we go out tonight?"

you scoffed and rolled your eyes at his antics. truth be told, it's not like you were opposed to it—you'd probably appreciate the change in scenery from your less-than-impressive dorm room. you just didn't really want to go to the same three bars with the same six regulars and same four bands that play.

"fine, fine. since you have no other friends to bother, i'll be generous. but i pick the place," you added, ignoring the indignant, "hey!" from beomgyu. you were already scrolling through search results on your phone.

no. no. too small. too fancy. been there. been there. hate that one. you sighed, losing hope that there would be any new sights for you tonight, only shitty LEDS, chipped counters, and traffic lights.

it was then that you saw a new name on the familiar list of bars. 'divine machine', five miles away, in the heart of town.

"hm, that's new," you mumbled to yourself. you clicked through the links provided—the pictures of the inside looked extremely promising, though you didn't want to get your hopes up too much only to be tricked by good camerawork.

one of the links led you to the bar's instagram page. it was new, having just opened about two weeks ago. most of the posts were pictures of the inside, the stage, the bar—it seemed to be a metal or rock concert themed bar, which piqued your interest a lot. one of the posts was in the style of an 80's flyer that you would see advertising a band. 'new talent every night!' it read. 'come to divine machine to see stars be born!'

it was the picture that sold it for you. you'd recognize that piercing gaze and that blue-grey hair anywhere. hueningkai was the cover of the flyer, seemingly mid-performance—hands poised perfectly on the frets, hair tousled, in the throes of whatever song he had been captured performing. trying to ignore the way your heart leaped in your chest, you offered your phone to beomgyu, hopefully looking nonchalant.

"what about this one?" you asked. "it's new."

"ooh, exciting! yeah, sounds good!"

"you don't care where we go as long as there's alcohol, right?"

"i'm going to stop inviting you if you keep being mean to me."

"you'd be going out alone."

"that is irrelevant and untrue."

you found yourself at the entrance of 'divine machine' three hours later, still trying to convince yourself that you were not hoping to see kai perform again. he's just talented, you told yourself. i appreciate good musicianship.

immediately, you were much more impressed with this bar than any of the others. the photos didn't lie—the place was spacious and clean, boasting a large stage near the front of the room, decked out like a rock concert with speakers and microphones and scary-looking instruments, prop black leather jackets hanging off some of the speakers and spotlights of all colors pointed in different directions. posters of bands—some familiar, some obscure, lined the walls, along with a selection of guitars that appeared to have signatures on them. the haze from the smoke machine was tinted blue-purple from the lights overhead—it was well-lit, you had to give them that.

"this is pretty promising," you whispered to beomgyu, who you knew was only half-listening as he read the drinks on the menu.

it was early on in the night—well, as early as early could be for a bar, only about 8:30p.m.—but groups of people were already filtering in and mingling. you felt the familiar grip of anxiety on your chest, subconsciously shrinking back into the bar.

beomgyu noticed immediately, drinks forgotten as he looked at you worriedly.

"hey, if you don't want to do this, we can go home. i know this isn't easy for you," he began, reaching for his bag that he had set on a barstool. you shook your head probably a little too quickly.

"no, i'm—i'm okay," you managed to get out. "sorry. i'll be fine, just takes some getting used to, don't worry."

"don't be sorry! it's okay. the offer still stands, whenever you're ready to go we'll go, okay?" gyu said, taking you by the shoulders. you felt your heart grow warm at your best friend's sincerity.

you had met beomgyu your sophomore year at college, having a statistics class with him and sharing a desk. the trauma of that class had bonded the two of you for life. your friendship had grown closer over the next two years, your juxtaposed dispositions balancing each other out well. and though gyu was a troublemaker and a tease, he was nothing if not caring. he knew when to stop and always knew how to make you feel more comfortable.

"okay. don't worry," you repeated, trying to convince yourself more than anything.

"i'm not worrying. it's you who's—well, look who it is!" beomgyu's gaze moved over your shoulder as he waved excitedly at someone behind you. you didn't have to guess who, smile already pulling at the corners of your mouth, and heart rate picking up as you turned around to see kai approaching the two of you.

he looked similar to the first time you had seen him perform, if not more decked out in his rocker attire. ripped black jeans with chains falling from the belt loops, combat boots, studded bracelets and silver rings, a black muscle tee, and the same leather battle vest that you noticed had more patches added since last time.

honestly, it's a wonder you noticed any details at all; you were mentally cursing yourself as you tried and failed to divert your attention from kai's arms, the conversation him and gyu were having entirely lost upon you. he's stronger than he looks, i suppose, you thought to yourself. i don't think i've ever seen him not in a t-shirt or hoodie.

your half-hearted attempts at convincing yourself that you were staring out of shock, not awe, were cut short by beomgyu shoving your shoulder slightly, snapping you from your thoughts.

"quit spacing out over there, are you even listening?" he asked, rolling his eyes dramatically, earning a snicker from kai. you felt your face flush as you forced your eyes to the floor.

"as i was saying, kai, you should let us visit backstage after your performance! we should get VIP treatment, i did give you my phone charger three days ago," gyu stated matter-of-factly. "and this," he pulled you close to him by the shoulders, "is my plus-one."

"i'll consider it," he laughed.

"don't worry about it if it's too much, you don't have to listen to him, he's dramatic." you cut your eyes at beomgyu at the last comment, and he stuck his tongue out in return.

"no, no, it's fine! i wouldn't mind at all! but, i've gotta run guys, have to go get set up and all," kai said, motioning to the stage and beginning to back towards it.

"don't let us keep you, rockstar. break a leg!" you smiled brightly at kai, who started at the nickname before smiling back, waving and turning towards the stage.

once kai was out of earshot, beomgyu whipped around towards you with a ferocity that made you jump slightly.

"and what the hell was that?!"

"jesus christ, what is wrong with—"

"nono, i asked first."

"i have no idea what you're talking about."

"you gave him a nickname," beomgyu said incredulously. "you don't even call me a nickname."

"and i am not starting now," you said through gritted teeth, blush hopefully hidden by the hazy lighting. "it was a one-time-joke thing, nothing interesting. let's go, we can't get close to the stage if we don't hurry."

and hurry you did, despite beomgyu's teasing, earning yourselves pretty decent spots in the crowd. you sipped water this time, hoping your nerves weren't too visible.

eventually, scattered applause broke you from your conversation with beomgyu, and you turned to see kai walking out on stage.

"hi, guys—i'm kai," kai said. you gave a small cheer, clapping softly. kai gave you a knowing smile before continuing, the sudden confidence flustering you a bit. "i'm going to be playing some music for you guys. i don't have a bunch of original stuff, but i have some pretty great covers lined up, alright?"

scattered cheers resounded throughout the crowd, and kai prepared to play the first song. you recognized the intro immediately, and couldn't help but give an incredulous laugh.

"this is pierce the veil!" you said excitedly to beomgyu.

"huhwhat?" beomgyu asked, attention torn away from the beverage he was nursing.

"he's playing pierce the veil! it's 'the new national anthem', from 'selfish machines'!"

"you like them right? those are the ones you n'your friend like?" beomgyu's voice already slurred slightly, even though he couldn't have had more than two drinks already.

"yeah!" you giggled, cheering for kai as he played. you couldn't help but wonder if he did that because of you.

once again, you found yourself hypnotized by kai's performance. all of his nerves and endearing awkwardness seemed to have dissolved, leaving behind a passionate and practiced musician. you were again struck with just how confident and right he looked on that stage, and felt a wave of sadness remembering your conversation in the library.

you couldn't believe he didn't think he was good enough. you thought he was everything.

after a few more covers and a few originals (your favorite of which you think was called "growing pain"), you found yourself being dragged by a tipsy beomgyu behind the stage and into the dressing room where kai waited.

"bro, that was a-mazing, you're so, jus' so talented," beomgyu declared, throwing his arms around kai who tried fervently to push him off.

"do not touch me, i am so warm, please go away—choi beomgyu, if you get sick on me, so help me god, i will kill you," kai laughed. you shook your head, rolling your eyes and laughing as well.

"have some mercy on him kai, he's a lightweight," you said with a tone of mock pity, which beomgyu stuck his tongue out at.

"m'not a lightweight. i'm fine, i'm literally normal," he began, trying to walk in a straight line to prove his point, only to crash down onto one of the sofas, only causing you and kai to laugh more.

"this is bullying..."

"this is the consequences of your own actions," you corrected.

you and kai sat down on the sofa opposite beomgyu, kai sprawling out with his head tilted back, exhausted. you noted how much more confident he looked, the adrenaline of performing still coursing through him, the stage persona not fully faded away.

"that really was amazing. you played pierce the veil!" you exclaimed.

"yeah, i did! i learned that song ages ago, but i guess i only recently remembered it."

"i was excited! and i liked the originals too, of course—'growing pain', i think you called it, just absolutely fantastic. i loved the whole thing," you gushed, feeling slightly embarrassed at how excited you were.

"i'm glad, i appreciate it. wow, not even a professional and i've already got a fanbase," he teased. you rolled your eyes, punching him in the arm.

"shut up. you have no such thing. i just recognize talent when i see it," you quipped, hoping the sarcasm in your voice hid your shyness.

"whatever you say—but i mean, coming to all my shows, meeting me backstage...from where i stand, you look like a regular groupie." his voice was teasing and bold, more playful—no, flirtatious—than you were used to. it stopped you cold.

not quite cold—you were very warm, actually. you realized with shame how the words had made your stomach flip, your heart stuttering at the tone. heat crept through your face as you attempted to form a response. the words wouldn't come, your eyes blown wide, mouth opening and closing with no sound.

kai seemed stunned by his own words, blush tinting his face too. you held his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. they were wide with embarrassment, still bright from adrenaline, the embers of that playful boldness still not fully gone out. you saw it again, that soft glow in them, and you wondered what it was he could be thinking about.

"ew, oh my god, get a room," beomgyu whined from where he sprawled dramatically on the couch. the moment was over, the both of you suddenly remembering where you were. you both glared at beomgyu, each grumbling some form of "shut up".

beomgyu held his hands up in mock surrender, slouching back down onto the couch and closing his eyes. you shot a glance at kai, sharing a sly smile with him when he met your gaze.

again, you couldn't shake that feeling when he looked at you—that you were the only two people on earth.

•••

this was the last thing you needed during finals season.

you had wondered how long it was going to take before you cracked under the stress of it all, and that time had finally come, at the worst possible time.

it had been a straight twenty-eight hours of no sleep—twenty-eight head-pounding, jittery, exhausting hours spent poring over books that had stopped looking like words about four hours ago. your laptop's search-engine screen seemed burned into the back of your eyelids, assignments and deadlines swimming before your burning, red-rimmed eyes.

you felt like hell. not just physically, but emotionally too. every time you left your room, you could feel millions of eyes on you, a building, pulsing sense of dread that crawled its way from your stomach to your lungs to your throat, choking even basic conversations to shaky one-word answers.

it was raining again, that december day; the world outside tinted blue and grey with winter. it was like the weather couldn't put forth the effort to be bright either. hueningkai sat across from you, as he always did, once again looking about as disheveled as you. his hair had faded to a dull blue with black roots, much longer than it had been when you had first met him.

you turned your attention back to your own essay assignment, words fading in and out of focus on your laptop screen. essays were usually easy—but having to do four in the span of two days was beginning to take its toll. you heard a sigh from in front of you as kai leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"hmm?" you hummed quizzically.

"i can't even see straight anymore, i'm so tired. i feel like i've been at this one assignment for years," he groaned.

you nodded in agreement, rubbing your own eyes to hopefully clear some of the blur, the throbbing in your head becoming worse by the second. "i feel you."

"i feel like im suffocating in here, don't you feel...choked, in a space like this?"

you hummed again, only half-listening, trying to focus your attention on the assignment at hand and not the knife in your head. you preferred the library to anywhere else, especially now, seeing as being around and talking to people seemed to be getting harder and harder.

"you can go somewhere else if you'd like, if it'll help you study better."

"we could go—"

"i told you already, i cannot go to 'divine machine'. i—i know it's not busy hours, i cannot go, i'm sorry."

kai seemed taken aback by your sharp words. he was right, you were starting to feel choked in the dusty study room, surrounded by the pounding in your head and the awareness of another person's presence.

the shame was upon you all at once, both at having snapped like that, and of having another person see you this way—especially someone you genuinely liked. the fluorescent lights above suddenly became glaringly bright, humming with previously unnoticed electricity. you became aware of your clothes, how they didn't feel clean, how your hair wasn't clean and stuck to your scalp, how your body ached from stagnation, how everything around you suddenly felt wrong—too bright, too close, too loud.

dread is cold. dread is a heavy, oozing thing that sits in your stomach and slowly infects you. panic? panic is hot. you can feel the way the flames of it flare and writhe their way into every part of your body. hands, arms, stomach, chest, throat, eyes, face—all burning with the shame of being perceived. you can feel every nerve ending in your body and everything it is interacting with, all sound drowned out by the blood throbbing in your head.

kai gave a small scoff, shrugging his shoulders and returning his gaze back to his assignment. "yeah, no, it's fine, i get it. people are scary."

and you knew he didn't mean it like that. but that was all it took. you shoved yourself back from the desk, grabbing your things and storming out the door, the only thing on your mind getting somewhere dark and quiet—somewhere with no people. your throat burned and tears dripped down your face, blurring your already-foggy vision. you stumbled towards the library door, finding it harder and harder to breathe. you didn't even hear kai calling after you.

everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned, there were people. people, people everywhere—you couldn't escape them. countless eyes focused on you, more than would even be possible, but you could feel it. the whole world was watching you fall apart, watching you ruin a friendship you tried so hard to build. he can see me, i'm embarrassing myself, was all you could think. he thinks i'm stupid. this is stupid. he thinks i'm embarrassing. this is embarrassing. i'm an embarrassment. why would he ever want me? even if he did, i am scaring him away, i'm too much, i have to leave, i'm too much, i have to get out, it's too much, too much, too—

and suddenly you were outside, the cold december rain sending a shock through your system. you took a deep, ragged inhale, the shock from the cold allowing a moment of clarity. as you slowly staggered to your dorm hall (you had the fleeting thought of how grateful you were to live so close by), the embers of shame still hot within your chest, you thought of kai.

you opened the door to your room. you thought of kai. you gently closed it behind you. no one was home but you. you were completely alone, in a dark and quiet room. you thought of kai. you slid down the back of the door, knees to your chest as the tears came once more. you thought of kai. kai who you desperately wanted to see you in a good light, who you wanted to be different for, who you put yourself out there for, who you had fallen for.

you thought of his hair falling into his eyes as he played guitar, you thought of the way his brows furrowed in concentration, you thought of his loud, goofy laugh, you thought of his hands and their inaudible melodies.

you thought of how sure of himself he had looked on stage at 'divine machine', like he belonged on the stage in front of all those people. you thought of how pathetic you felt, knowing that now he knew. you had tried so hard, but now he knew that you couldn't even handle a library.

when the first knock came at the door, it was so soft that you thought you might've imagined it. you remained slumped against the door, tears gone but eyes still burning. then it came again, more frantic this time.

"hey, are you in there? it—it's me, it's kai." his voice was muffled behind the door, but you could still hear that he sounded shaky and slightly out of breath.

"i'm here."

"can i...come in?"

"no."

"...can i ask why?"

you sniffled, wiping your eyes and trying to smooth down your hair. "i look terrible."

"i mean, if it makes you feel any better, i look like they just dredged me out of the ocean."

you scoffed a little at that, smiling despite yourself.

"i'm sorry for what i said. i didn't mean it that way, but i still shouldn't have said it. it's not fair to you," kai said after a beat of silence.

"no, no, i get it. i know you didn't mean it, i'm sorry for freaking out, i should've reacted better, i'm just—i am really, really stressed, and it, like, all crashed down on me at once, a-and—"

"it's okay. you don't have to be sorry, i'm not upset at you or anything—you can't help it."

"i just...i feel like i should be able to help it, y'know? i've lived with it for this long, i should be able to cope with this stuff." your voice shook with frustration, new tears threatening to fall.

"i understand. i really do, i know it doesn't," there was a pause like he was reconsidering, and you had the mental image of him dragging a hand through his hair. "it doesn't seem like i do. but...whenever i perform, like onstage—the minute and a half before i begin to play is the scariest moment. i can feel everyone's eyes on me, the weight of their expectations is so...so overwhelming, it gets hard to breathe. for that minute and a half, every bad thing i've ever believed about myself becomes true, and it feels like everyone can see it," kai's voice shook slightly with the confession, and you wondered if this is the first time he's ever told anyone this. "no matter how many times i perform, that initial fear will always be there."

"you seem so sure of yourself up there. when you begin to play, i mean. it's like you were...made to perform, or something," you murmured, half-hoping he didn't hear you.

"it's all practice. and it's because i love it. it's like you, when you explain literature or writing stuff—it's like the nerves melt away. the joy comes back, y'know? the thing you're doing it for, it overrides the fear. it doesn't mean the fear isn't still there, but it isn't as overpowering."

there was a silence again, longer this time.

"i wanted to write. did i ever tell you that?" you began. "i want to teach, sure—i mean, i love explaining things, but truly what i always wanted to do was write. but i couldn't get over the fear. i could not stand the idea of people...thinking about me. perceiving me in a way i couldn't control, i guess? it used to keep me up at night, honestly. at least in a classroom, i know what i'm doing is for the greater good—whether the students like me or not. but writing? i guess i just—"

"don't feel like you're good enough, so you chose the safer option?"

the silence that followed spoke volumes—lifetimes of dreams crushed by the realities of life and survival.

"can you please let me in? please?" it was spoken so softly, but the gentleness with which it was said nearly brought you to tears again. slowly, you pushed yourself from the floor.

you met his eyes as the door swung open—wide and glimmering as they always were, and he looked as though he had been crying as well. there were a few seconds of tense silence, and the world seemed to stop and hold its breath. kai's mouth was open slightly, like he was trying to find words to say. you broke the silence first, your eyes remaining locked on his.

"i'm sorry to make you come all this way in the rain, you really didn't—"

before you could finish your sentence, kai was through the doorway, wrapping you in his arms tightly. you froze, unsure of how to react.

the feeling was there again, the same as it was in the car back in october—there with him, you were the only two people on earth. you slowly relaxed, reaching your arms around to hug him back, burying your face into his shoulder. he's so tall, you thought.

"thank you," you whispered. kai just nodded in affirmation, fingers unconsciously grazing up and down your back soothingly. you had the fleeting thought that it was like he was playing guitar.

"you're really cold. and wet," you whispered again. you felt his soft laughter reverberate through him, making you smile into the crook of his neck.

"that's on you for making me trek all this way, in the rain, in december."

"you didn't have to follow me, you cannot put that on me."

"and what was i gonna do, just leave you?"

you went quiet at that, realizing that's exactly what you expected him to do. that's what you'd expected of everyone your whole life. you truly felt as though if you didn't constantly have it under control, people would see you and know. you weren't quite sure what they would know, but they would know, and they would see you differently forever. you didn't respond, only held kai a little tighter.

"it's really dark in here. cold too. do...you maybe want to go back to my place and get warm?" kai's voice was hesitant, like the gravity of the words hindered them from being spoken.

after what felt like an eternal silence, you nodded slowly.

"yeah."

•••

it was exactly what you thought it would look like.

posters and pictures lined the walls of hueningkai's room, pops of sharp color and vivacity along an almost-black navy blue wall. you felt a smile forming on your face at the plushies—honestly an unprecedented amount of them. the room was was a bit smaller than you had expected, but cozy in a way. the curtains had been pulled back and the blinds open to let in as much natural light as possible—which wasn't a lot at the moment because of the rain.

it was kind of messy, like the rest of the apartment—a fact you only remembered when upon arrival, you were met with the same bike in the kitchen you had seen four months ago. papers that looked to be sheet music were scattered across his desk and bed, some printed, some seemingly hand drawn staffs and notes. kai turned pink at this, immediately attempting to collect and reorganize, muttering apologies all the while.

what really interested you were the instruments. you noticed the guitar immediately, a sight familiar from watching kai's performances. he also, you noticed, had a bass guitar, a computer set up with a mic—and all the way in the corner, a keyboard. you almost laughed aloud.

"what is it?" kai asked.

"nothing, nothing, i just...i dunno, i knew you played piano. i just knew it," you chuckled.

"and how could you have known that?"

"maybe i'm psychic."

"or something like that."

you picked up one of the closest plushies to you and threw it at kai's head.

"okay, ouch. i chase after you in the rain, take you back to my apartment, offer you shelter, and this is the thanks i get?"

"will you just go shower—before i throw another one at you," you threatened, giggling. kai rolled his eyes at you once more before ducking into the hall. you settled down on the floor, not wanting to mess up the bed; you were still slightly damp from the storm outside. you leaned against a bedpost, taking in everything around you. it was so...him. it was slightly messy, but warm, cozy—with vibrant bursts of life.

you noticed kai had dropped one of the music sheets in his fervor to clean them. so—glancing at the closed door—you began to read it.

from what you could tell, this part was written for a guitar—which, you felt as though you should've gotten an award for understanding anything about it at all, all that studying did something. you were impressed with kai's dedication; he had drawn everything out himself, including the staffs and markings.

as you were poring over this paper, trying to mentally sound out what the song sounded like, you heard the doorknob turn. you quickly shoved the paper off to the side, trying to look as nonchalant as possible.

"your turn," kai called, slicking his wet hair out of his face.

"mhm," you replied, trying not to stare as you grabbed the clothes you brought from your dorm and headed for the bathroom.

•••

you left the shower feeling lighter than before, the world seeming less horrible when you were clean and warm. you took a deep breath in, and felt your heart skip as you realized that you smelled like kai. you had brought clothes, but not your shower things, so you had to settle for his.

as you approached kai's bedroom door, you stopped just before turning the handle. you could hear noise from inside, something that sounded like a guitar.

you knew you probably shouldn't eavesdrop. you knew music was very important to kai, so listening to him compose and practice felt...invasive?

the song was familiar, and after a few moments you realized that it was the song from the paper you had found. you felt a fleeting burst of pride that what you had sounded out in your head hadn't been too obscenely far off, but that was quickly forgotten.

it was a beautiful song, even though you could only hear one instrument's part. it was slower than the other things you had heard him perform. if you strained, you could hear kai humming the beginnings of a melody over his playing—and every once in a while, it would stop, the sound of pencil scratching paper and kai talking to himself replacing it.

eventually, the guilt of eavesdropping won, and you knocked on the door to announce your presence.

"feel any better?" kai asked, moving the guitar and music off of the bed.

"much. the world doesn't suck as bad when you're clean and warm. i'm just very—" your sentence was broken by a yawn,"—sorry, very tired," you finished.

"well, rest here. you're welcome to take a nap," kai said, half-smiling.

you gave him a sleepy, half-lidded smile as you sat down beside him. "i heard you playing when i got out," you confessed eventually.

kai laughed and shook his head, embarrassed.

"ah, i see. hopefully i didn't sound too crazy, i tend to talk to myself."

"only a little crazy," you giggled. a hush fell over the room, the only sound the muffled tapping of the rain on the roof. eventually, you asked in a quiet voice: "what's the one you were playing? what's it called?"

kai looked slightly wary—this was obviously something he didn't talk with a lot of people about. you supposed people are difficult, no matter who you are.

"if you don't want to tell me, then that's okay too—"

"no, no, i was just stunned," kai answered quickly. "it's called 'dreamer'."

"when'd you write it? and...why, if you don't mind me asking?" at that, kai's expression turned a bit more solemn.

"i wrote it in november, when i had an argument with someone in family over wanting to do music as a job. she said it was stupid, pointless—it's not a real job, that i couldn't make anything or go anywhere from it," he said, brows furrowed in distaste at the memory. "this one feels like...i dunno, being trapped between being a kid and an adult—being expected to make something of yourself but wanting to preserve the dreams you had for your life."

you nodded along slowly, knowing the feeling all too well. you'd been told the same thing all your life—that writing would never get anywhere, that it wasn't a stable career, that you couldn't handle it. eventually, you began to believe it.

"will you play it for me?" it was out of your mouth before you could think about it, the sound barely louder than the rain outside. "only if you want to," you added quickly.

kai looked at you, expression a mix of nervous and content, and gave u a small nod and a half-smile before picking up his guitar.

you closed your eyes as he began to play. the world outside was nothing but distant memory, the only things real to you right now were the smell of kai's room, the rain on the windows, and the sound of guitar that floated throughout the room.

kai hummed that melody over his playing again, more confidently this time. you swayed, exhaustion hitting you like a wave as you relaxed for the first time in probably a month. you breathed out a sigh of content, resting against kai's shoulder.

all at once the playing stopped. after a few moments, you opened your eyes and turned to see kai, hands still positioned on the guitar frets, but music long forgotten as your eyes met his. you saw it again, the glimmer in them. you wanted nothing more than to fall into them, fall through their shifting hues and constellations forever.

the silence was tense, all noise drowned out by your own heartbeat as you held kai's gaze. slowly, cautiously, kai closed the space between the two of you, softly brushing his lips to yours before pulling away a bit and locking eyes with you again.

"was that okay?"

"yeah."

"...can i—"

"yeah, yeah."

you closed the gap this time, four and a half months of built-up tension suddenly released as you kissed him, hands slowly sliding up his shoulders to pull him closer to you. kai sighed shakily into the kiss in something almost like relief, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other hand resting lightly on the back of your head—like he was asking for permission to bring you closer still.

memories of the last four months—the first time you saw him play, whispering in classrooms, days spent in the library, nights spent looking up at him admiringly from below a stage, they all swam in your head.

for the first time, kai's hands were inexperienced and hesitant, unsure of where to go and what to do. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you rested your hands on top of his—moving the fingers of one to slide up into your hair, and moving the other to rest between your shoulder blades, where you began to feel the familiar rhythm of his fingers playing their inaudible melodies—slower this time, almost soothingly as your lips met his once more.

you couldn't think of anything else but him—he was all you could see, could hear, could smell; fragments of poems wrote themselves and dissolved as at last the two of you pulled away, the only sound your shaky breathing. you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed, slight smile on your face, and you had the notion that you could've written novels, volumes—all the beautiful prose in the world could not have described the way you felt at that moment with him.

•••

you were grateful for the reprieve from the the scorching may heat as you ducked into the cool, dark building. even though the sun was setting, it was still uncomfortably warm, humidity that spoke of rain to come making the air sticky and heavy.

you smiled slightly at the crowd that had gathered, though the show was still fifteen minutes from starting. kai had garnered a lot of fans in the last few months, and you felt your heart swell with pride at your boyfriend's success.

for the first time in—well, maybe ever, you were at 'divine machine' alone. beomgyu had other plans tonight, and usually that meant a night in for you—but you really wanted to see kai's performance.

you knew the fear was still there. it ebbed and flowed, crescendoed and subsided in your head. you admit it had improved, but you knew it would always be there. it not controlling you was enough, and you took an ironic kind of comfort in knowing that you weren't ever alone, and that you had people to help you—that not everyone was against you.

the lights began to dim, and scattered cheers rippled throughout the audience, growing louder as you saw kai walk on stage and wave at the audience. you couldn't help the smile that spread across your face.

he'd changed a good bit in the months since you'd met him. his once blue-grey hair was now jet black, and had grown out to his shoulders. half of it was thrown haphazardly in a bun, and his bangs fell into his eyes as he adjusted the mic stand. you noted he didn't have to do it as much anymore—being a regular performer does have its perks.

kai was broader, and somehow looked even taller. you imagined it was the confidence he had built over months of performing. he gave his familiar half-smile at the audience, and you could've fallen in love all over again.

"hi, guys! if you don't know me already, i'm kai. i'm gonna be playing some music for you guys tonight, alright?" as he spoke, he plugged the amp into his guitar, the feedback crackling through the room. "it's mostly originals, but there'll be some covers thrown in too."

you could never get tired of watching kai play. the way he put every fiber of his being into the music—he became it. your eyes settled again on his hands, somehow more confident and at home than they had ever looked. his voice carried through the room, filled it, leaving no space for the troubles or tribulations of whatever was outside the double doors.

you had begun to memorize his setlists, but sometimes he surprised you. after his usual four original songs, kai pulled a chair to the front of the stage, lowering the mic stand and sitting down. he made eye contact with you from across the stage, and you furrowed your brows questioningly. he just winked, gave you a small grin, and began to talk into the mic.

"i've only got two songs left, an original and a cover. this one is called 'dreamer', and i'd be remiss if i didn't give credit where it's due. this song and its lyrics wouldn't exist without someone very important to me, and i want them to know that i wouldn't be here performing if they had not given me the inspiration to." kai gazed at you lovingly from where he sat, and tears sprung to your eyes at the confession.

"the next is not as well-known. i haven't played it before, but i couldn't do 'dreamer' and not play this one, too. it's called 'kissing in cars', by pierce the veil."

you thought back to the memories made over the last nine months as he began to play. from meeting him, to building a friendship, to falling in love, you looked on every moment—even the bad ones—with fondness and gratitude. the two of you had written 'dreamer' together a month after you had gotten together. it started as you bursting into his apartment as soon as it was daylight, having not slept. the beginnings of the lyrics had come to you in the middle of the night, pulling you out of sleep and demanding to be written down. over the course of two weeks, you had helped him create the song in its entirety. you had seen him play it before, but it still brought you close to tears every time.

as 'dreamer' ended and hueningkai began to play the first notes of 'kissing in cars', it hit you just how lucky you were. it wasn't quite luck—or gratitude, or joy, or sadness, or even just love. you couldn't describe the emotion that now overwhelmed you. it coursed through you, the crowd around you melting away. the only thing you could think about was kai. words came together and broke apart, fragments of lyrics and poems born and destroyed as you searched for a way to describe what you were feeling.

you couldn't. as kai moved into the final chorus, just like back in december, you realized that you couldn't describe it. so many have tried, in so many ways, and you knew it would never be enough. you smiled as the song ended, tears slipping from your eyes as you cheered, trying to express this wonderful, exhilarating, indescribable feeling. you knew there were no words, no music, no art, nothing that could capture what you felt at that moment.

and maybe that is what made it so beautiful.

[froschli96]

As an asexual Good Omens fan

There's something I've noticed in this fandom that makes me really uncomfortable, and that is the way that Crowley and Aziraphale's possible asexuality is constantly being connected to and justified by them being not human.

I just honestly really hate that, because implying that asexuality is something that somehow "logically" follows from characters being nonhuman is ... not great. Like, I hate having to be the one to point this out, but asexuality is, in fact, very much a human attribute.

And unfortunately, most of the time when I come across this take, it doesn't feel like someone seeing themselves in the characters and relating to their experience, but rather an othering, this kind of otherwordly pure non-sexualness, where people put these characters above such trivial things like sexuality.

I am not asexual because I am somehow confounded by this oh so complicated human concept of sexuality, or because I don't ever think or care about sexuality at all (a lot of thinking was unfortunately involved actually before I finally came to a conclusion about my identity) it is just a fact of who I am, as a human being, it’s a part of my human experience.

And let's be honest, attributing asexuality to nonhuman characters is not the hot new take a lot of people seem to think it is — this trope has been around for ages. And it hasn't done a great deal to normalize asexuality. In fact I'd argue it's perpetuated an othering of ace people, but you take what you can get, really. (This is not to say that it is in any way wrong to identify with these kinds of characters, I definitely do, too! It's just sad that the topic of discussion is always about how "human" someone can be considered when they don't feel sexual or romantic attraction)

To be honest, I don't actually see A&C being asexual as canon — as a lot of people seemingly do — just because the author kind of suggested it in a tweet where he basically conflates "asexual" and "sexless" (for the record, this is not a dig at Neil, I just think the implications were kind of unfortunate, even if it might not have been intentional, which makes it all the more frustrating that a lot of fans just ran with it). And yeah, going around calling people aphobic for seeing the Ineffable Husbands as gay rep or any other identity, when they’re oh so obviously canonically ace, is honestly kind of insane.

I get that it might feel nice and tempting to be able to "claim" these characters and this relationship and being able to tell other fans off whose headcanons on their sexuality differ from your own because it is hard to come by any kind of representation when you're ace and there's finally a creator who's not only not contemptuous towards but even supportive of fans reading his characters as queer. And if you feel represented by A&C as it is then all the more power to you. But the thing is, it doesn't matter what kind of justifications there are or what canon might or might not say (bc when has that ever mattered in fandom spaces) or what the creator says, you cannot convert people to your opinion about a character, and you're going to have a bad time if you spend your time in fandom trying to do that.

And really, I am just wondering why we necessarily even need an explanation or justification for them possibly being asexual. Why does it have to be that all angels and demons are asexual by virtue of being nonhuman, and so A&C have to be too? why can't that just be an aspect of them that is completely unrelated to them not being human? Could these characters maybe not simply identify as asexual, not because they're nonhuman, but in spite of it? (btw, in the same vein it is equally stupid to argue that A&C can't be ace because they have "gone native", which is also an argument I've come across)

Honestly, I'm not even asking anyone to fundamentally change how they see these characters here — if you think they must be asexual solely because they're angels and have no concept of human sexuality, then whatever, I can't stop you and I don’t want to police anyone's headcanons bc as I said that's stupid and a waste of time. What I am asking you is that you maybe reflect a little bit on why exactly it is that humanity and sexuality are somehow so intrinsically linked in your mind to the point where you automatically use it as a way to distinguish between human and nonhuman characters.

Anyways.

Tldr: please stop equating asexuality with non-humanness thank you and good day.

[kcokaine]

how do you feel about people who only 'consume' media through the lens of shipping and how hot a character is? and how do you deal with people like that when they do that to your own characters? I get really frustrated when my own ocs get boiled down to stereotypes and I was wondering how you handle that

ton of people are porn brained/yaoi brained which results to them not even reading their own manga (looking at certain group of jjk shippers rn) where they will twist and get upset about their ships not being canon and calling Gege a coward outright not confirming something that he doesnt need to confirm because it IS NOT IMPORTANT TO THE CORE STORY. Its honestly disgraceful to the author's work, instead of people accepting their ship is a headcanon and going off of canonical realities they have to push their delusions on others and disregard other shippers and people that just want to enjoy the media. It gives me monumental ick when i see someone either caring about media bcs of some mediocre yaoi or that the characters are simply just hot. Hot without substance doesn't matter. Worst thing is they will say they like a character for their lore and complexity and then proceed to utterly mischaracterize them and say the most surface level bullshit as their description of them (looking at Toji, Sukuna, Geto and Gojo rn) If anyone tries to project this gooner shit on my ocs i simply don't interact with them. If you wanna goon, at least be intelligent and sophisticated about it. I do make my characters attractive because i feel like to, not bcs they are supposed to be medieocre jerk off material. They have depth, i always think about their depth before i even come to the initial visual design. Cause again, what will you do with an empty shell that is only nice to look at? That isn't special. Gojo without his personality and story would be an anime twink #2896. Thats why i was skeptical to watch jjk in the first place, i saw people goon over him cuz he is conventionally attractive, thank god thats not all gojo has going on for him. typa shit!!!:

[babyrdie]

Hiii, I hope you're well :))) I want to complain about something if you don't mind. It saddens me that Andromeda by Sophocles and Euripides is lost because they expanded Andromeda's character. We would have been able to learn about her personality, as well as her relationship with her parents

But still one thing that is clear is that she did NOT want to be sacrificed, she had dreams/desires and wanted to live at all costs, even if people see that as selfish she has every right to want to live

But in several retellings they make her want to sacrifice herself for the good of her kingdom which is totally out of character, because supposedly they want to give her "a voice" but they only do it to make Perseus look bad since that is not even what Andromeda wanted

I remember reading an article where the author mentioned a Greek pottery dating back to the VI BC depicting Perseus confronting Cetus with stones that Andromeda Gave Him (I don't remember if I ever saw the pottery) and the author basically said that apparently the earliest versions of the story had Andromeda participating in the defeat of Cetus or helping Perseus in some way, which I think is a much better way to do in retellings if they really want her to have more involvement in her own myth

—🪷

Hey! Thanks for the question, I'm doing fine and I hope it's the same for you. Also, sorry for taking so long! I was trying to find some article/book that commented on this vase you mentioned because I found interesting! I also found other things, so this post will probably be long because I feel they’re of interest to the seemingly eternal debate surrounding the Andromeda agency (whether in relation to sacrifice or marriage).

I don't usually read retellings or watch adaptations, so I don't know what the adaptations of the Andromeda myth are like. So, I won't focus on that and will think more about the aspect of what we can learn about Andromeda from the myths. I think that even with Euripides and Sophocles gone, we have enough hints about Andromeda's psyche. So, this post will be more me arguing in favor of the following things:

1) Andromeda wasn't a character adept at self-sacrifice;

2) Perseus saved Andromeda, if not out of love, at least out of passion;

3) At some point, the feeling was reciprocal;

4) The marriage wasn't disadvantageous to Andromeda.

Details:

I usually include the secondary source details (author, page, title) at the time I cite them, but in this case I'll try another organization. As for primary sources, I obviously didn’t include all of the Greco-Roman primary sources for Andromeda. Also, Sophocles' play is notably absent because, unlike Euripides' play, the surviving fragments do not give us enough insight into the character's psyche.

Sometimes the post will tend to other characters, but that's because I feel they will be useful examples of my opinion (in this case, sacrificial characters besides Andromeda). Note that, since the focus is STILL Andromeda, I won't go into too much depth on them and will use them in a more simplistic way. So if someone thinks "well, but the context of this character is much more complex and..." yeah, but the character isn’t the focus. It's just an example.

And as always, a typical warning in case someone who doesn't follow me reads this post... it’s a hobby post. My posts are huge, yes, but they're all purely for entertainment. This is an opinion post. Lotus Anon wanted to talk to me about the subject, I'm just "talking" so to speak.

ANDROMEDA: WILLING OR UNWILLING SACRIFICIAL MAIDEN?

When I received this ask, I at one point wondered what the oldest literary source of Andromeda had to say about her since you mentioned the article theorizing about oldest version with a visual source. When I was trying to remember, I got the impression that there was an apparent Andromeda absence in ancient literary sources — absence not in the sense of necessarily not existing at the time, but of not being mentioned — even when Perseus, her husband, is mentioned. The oldest literary source of Perseus is The Iliad, since the Homeric text presents an episode in Book 14 known as the seduction of Zeus by Hera, who intended to distract him (sexually) and put him to sleep with the help of the god Hypnos in order to give the Achaeans an advantage in the Trojan War. At one point, Zeus compares Hera to the other women who attracted him, claiming that none of them attracted him more than Hera was attracting him at that moment. Among them, he cites Danae as saying “nor when I desired Danaë of the shapely ankles, daughter of Akrisios, who bore Perseus, conspicuous among all men” (14.319–320, trans. Caroline Alexander). Also, “Sthenelos, son of Perseus” is identified when describing Hera’s intervention in the birth of Heracles (19.97–144). The Iliad, however, doesn’t give the heroic Perseus who saves his mother and future wife, but rather gives his genealogy — maternal grandfather Acrisius, mother Danae, father Zeus, son Sthenelos. Consequently, Andromeda isn’t actually mentioned, although it could perhaps be argued that she is implied since Sthenelos in later sources is explicitly the son of Andromeda. A text usually attributed to Hesiod had already demonstrated the heroic aspect of the Perseus myth by describing him dealing with the Gorgon sisters in the Shield of Heracles (216–236, trans. H.G. Evelyn-White), although Andromeda was still notably absent since her sacrifice wasn’t the theme, but rather the killing of the Gorgons. In later sources it was specified that Perseus was meant to protect his mother, although the Shield of Heracles doesn’t make this explicit, so perhaps it could be argued that Perseus as protector of his family was already implied. 

Then I noticed that, although Andromeda is apparently absent in these older texts, the idea of ​​a virgin being sacrificed isn’t completely absent. In the Homeric texts, there really isn't much to be said. Polyxena is never acknowledged as existing, and consequently her sacrifice isn’t a theme — something that Pausanias, in Description of Greece 1.22.6, seems to think was intentional on the poet's part. Iphigenia is also never directly mentioned, and her existence in the Homeric tradition is a matter of debate, with some arguing that a speech by Agamemnon (1.101-120) indicates that Calchas had previously asked him to sacrifice Iphigenia, others arguing that Iphinassa is Iphigenia and therefore Iphigenia is alive (9.144-145), and finally, there is further debate as to Clytemnestra's motivation for murdering Agamemnon in The Odyssey — Cassandra is certainly a catalyst, judging by Book 11, but in the Homeric tradition is Iphigenia supposed to be a catalyst as well? For all intents and purposes, however, Iphigenia is still not explicitly mentioned in any of these narratives, regardless of the debates. But, according to Pausanias, the Hesiodic Catalogue of Women apparently already alluded to the sacrifice of Iphigenia although he apparently went with the version in which she isn’t literally killed (frag 71) and the lost poems of the Epic Cycle apparently also already acknowledged the maidens sacrifices — Proclus' summaries of The Cypria and The Sack of Ilium (considered frag 1 of each epic) indicate that in the first epic there was the sacrifice of Iphigenia and in the second there was the sacrifice of Polyxena. Thus, even if the myth of Andromeda isn’t explicit in the sources, the trope of the sacrificed virgin already was.

Ironically, it’s as if Andromeda's essence is here, but Andromeda herself isn’t. Perseus, her husband, and Sthenelos, her son, exist, but she isn’t mentioned. The virgins are being sacrificed, but we don’t hear of Andromeda's sacrifice. Looking for any signal of her in literary sources, I felt as if I were getting hints of Andromeda in Archaic Greece, but not the real thing. Or at least, that is what I thought when I checked the Evelyn-Hugo edition of the Catalogue of Women in the Theoi... I later found the detail that fragment 135 MW is also listed as being in the Hesiodic Catalogue of Women and contains a reference to Andromeda:

... Abas; and he be[got a son,] Akrisios.... [Pe]rseus, whom... [in a che]st into the sea... [b]rought up for Zeus... gold... dear Perseus... [and from him and] Andromeda [daughter of] Kepheus [were born Alkaios] and [S]thenelos and the force [of Elektryon]... by the cattle... for [the Te]leboai... [A]mphitryon  

Translation by Silvio Curtis, retired from gantzmythsources. Note that the parts “[]” are reconstructions and “...” are lacunas.

So, a literary confirmation of the existence of Andromeda in Archaic Greece! Although her myth hasn’t been preserved in this part, the mention of her marriage to Perseus seems to be a nod to her sacrifice, rescue and consequent marriage. Considering that the edition of Theoi is from 1914, I imagine that this fragment doesn’t appear in it because it was added to the fragments of the Catalogue of Women in some later year of the academic research that tries to reconstruct it. I saw that West (1985) had already commented on this fragment, although he was particularly interested in the geographical and genealogical aspects and, therefore, it isn’t useful to me because I’m trying to get clues about the psychological aspect of Andromeda. I saw that many also argued in favor of the myth of Andromeda having foreign influences, but the uncertainties of the more complex parts of these theories don’t give me many clues about what this means for the character's psychology and says more about the narrative and visual elements of the myth. In short, all this only attests to Andromeda's existence, but gives us nothing about her thoughts.

Ogden (2008, p. 67–68) has commented on the earliest visual source attesting to Andromeda. It’s the Corinthian black-figure amphora of ca. 575–50 BC, which places it as a 6th century BC source. It’s possible to identify it because the inscriptions of the characters have been preserved, indicating the names Cetus, Perseus, and Andromeda. However, Perseus' usual weapons — the head of Medusa or a sword — are notably absent, and he actually appears to be throwing stones at Cetus. I imagine this is the pottery you were talking about, nonnie! It really does exist!

Perseus rescuing Andromeda from the monster at Joppa. Late Corinthian amphora, second quarter of the sixth century BC. Berlin F1652. Drawing by author. See here.

This pottery had already been mentioned by Philips (1968, p. 1), who interpreted Andromeda's drawing as an indication of her excitement:

Perseus in his role as savior of Andromeda is known as early as the first half of the sixth century B.c. on a late Corinthian amphora now in Berlin (pl. I, fig. I). Here, with neither the Gorgon's head nor his harpe, he seems to throw stones at a long-tongued monster while Andromeda gesticulates in excitement. Each character is named. 

If we follow this interpretation, it would make one of the earliest sources of Andromeda an indication of her happiness at being rescued, which could imply her uncooperativeness with the sacrifice. Looking at the figure, it’s interesting that although Andromeda is behind Perseus, she appears to be holding more rocks. This could indeed imply that Andromeda is actively helping to defeat Cetus, which again would indicate her opposition to being sacrificed and her willingness to receive help. The detail that one of the earliest sources of Andromeda depicts her as opposing her sacrifice is significant, as there is nothing to prevent other lost contemporary sources from having followed the same logic — in fact, it’s much more evident from the later surviving sources.

As for Andromeda's cooperativeness in her sacrifice, a emphasized element in her myth is the way in which Andromeda was intended to be sacrificed. Several texts, both Greek and Roman, described how she was chained, for example:

Euripides’ Andromeda — “Do you see? Not in dancing choruses nor among the girls of my age do I stand holding my voter’ funnel, but entangled in close bounds I am presented as a food for the sea monster Glaucetes, with a paean not for my wedding but for my binding. Bewail me, women, for I have suffered pitiful plight—O suffering, suffering man that I am!—and other lawless afflictions from my kin, though I am implored the man, as light a lament filled with tears for my death”, frag 122. Loeb edition.

Ovid’s Metamorphosis — “They bound her fettered arms fast to the rock”, Book 4. Translation by Brookes More.

Ovid’s Ars Amatoria — “What was less hoped for by Andromeda, in chains”, Book 3. Translation by A.S. Kline.

Lucian’s Dialogue of the Sea — “Andromeda, fettered to a jutting rock”. Translation by H.W. and F.G. Flower.

Pliny the Elder’s Natural History — “and Joppe, a city of the Phoenicians, which existed, it is said, before the deluge of the earth. It is situate on the slope of a hill, and in front of it lies a rock, upon which they point out the vestiges of the chains by which Andromeda was bound”, 5.69. Translation by Henry T. Riley.

Philostrathus, Imagines — “while Eros frees Andromeda from her bonds”, 1.29. Translation by Arthur Fairbanks.

Pseudo-Apollodorus’ Library — “But Ammon having predicted deliverance from the calamity if Cassiepea's daughter Andromeda were exposed as a prey to the monster, Cepheus was compelled by the Ethiopians to do it, and he bound his daughter to a rock”, 2.4.3. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

Antiphilus in Greek Anthology — “she who is chained to the rock is Andromeda”, 147. Translation by W.R. Paton.

Solinus’ Polyhistor — “This town displays a rock which to this day retains traces of the chains used to bind Andromeda”, 34. Translation by Arwen Apps.

Nonnus’ Dionysiaca — “One made for Cepheus's daughter, and with starry fingers twisting a ring as close as the other, enchained Andromeda, bound already, with a second bond aslant under her bands”, Book 1; “Again she awakened a new resentment, seeing the heap of Andromeda's broken chains beside the Erythraian sea, and that rock lying on the sand, Earthshaker's monstrous lump”, Book 31; “Perseus on the wing loosed the chains of Andromeda and offered the stone seamonster as a worthy bridal gift”, Book 47. Translation by W.H.D. Rouse.

And one has to wonder why Andromeda is chained in the sources in general when I can't think of this as a common sacrificial motif in Greco-Roman literature, but here I want to focus on the fact that she is still chained in the Euripidean version. Euripides certainly knows what to do when he wants to emphasize that a character who is a sacrificial victim has regained some agency, however small. If Aeschylus depicted Iphigenia crying and screaming and being bound in Agamemnon, Euripides depicted her walking freely to the altar. If visual representations of Polyxena depicted her being immobilized and carried away by the Achaeans, Euripides made it so that, by showing no resistance, such immobilization was unnecessary. This isn’t to say that Iphigenia or Polyxena wanted to die in Euripides’ version, but it does indicate something about the role resistance plays into their death. And even with Euripides having  this tendency, his Andromeda remains chained rather than subverted as he did with Iphigenia and Polyxena. In the purpose of explaining what I want to explain, let’s do some comparison. These are examples that involve the need for someone to give up their life. Menoeceus and Alcestis weren’t literally sacrificed as were Iphigenia, Polyxena, Andromeda, and Maiden (Macaria), but I’m still including them.

In Alcestis, king Admetus (he was the king of Pherae) was given the opportunity to live beyond his destined life because of the favor of the god Apollo, but on the condition that someone else would have to willingly die in his place. Admetus couldn’t find anyone willing to do this for him, including his elderly parents, and so when Death came to collect his share of the bargain, his wife Alcestis volunteered to die in his place. Since the bargain required a voluntary sacrifice, Alcestis did so of her own will, even though Admetus didn’t wish her to die and lamented it greatly afterwards. Her act was praised as an act of love and is even cited as an example in Plato's Symposium (179b-208d). She was later rescued from Death by Heracles, who was a guest of Admetus.

In The Phoenician Women, the Thebans and Argives are in conflict because of the brothers Eteocles and Polynices, both of whom desire the crown and have also been cursed by their father Oedipus. At one point, the seer Tiresias informs the Theban king Creon that he must sacrifice his son Menoeceus to save Thebes from divine punishment imposed by the god Ares. Creon, however, actively resists the plan, even instructing Menoeceus to flee so that he may live. However, despite pretending to agree with his father, Menoeceus disobeys and willingly sacrifices himself, appeasing the divine wrath. This is considered a heroic act, as he willingly offered his life in exchange for the salvation of his people despite having the option of fleeing and being supported in doing so by Creon.

In Iphigenia in Aulis, Iphigenia initially shows resistance and fear at the idea of ​​being sacrificed to the goddess Artemis, but eventually gives in and subverts her sacrifice from a tragedy to a form of immortality despite the active opposition of her mother Clytemnestra and the suggestion of her not-really-groom Achilles to save her. By showing no more resistance, Iphigenia, according to the Messenger who notifies Clytemnestra, also “dies” — she is, in fact, replaced by a deer — in the most dignified way possible considering the context. Her voluntary sacrifice seems to be equated with the sacrifice of a warrior to obtain kleos, making her in some ways an active heroine rather than a passive victim — although she is still a victim of the war. Iphigenia, despite having had a fear of death, eventually sees it as a source of pride.

In Hecuba, Polyxena, having no other choice, is conformed to be sacrificed and attempts to regain some agency by taking this as her way out of slavery despite the active opposition of her mother Hecuba. Because she doesn’t resist, regardless of how she feels, Polyxena isn’t forcibly dragged away or anything like that. Talthybius would later report to Hecuba that Polyxena supposedly died in the most dignified way possible, given the situation she was in. Polyxena is different from Iphigenia in that she isn’t seeking fame or any recognition of her sacrifice, but she is still emphasized as being dignified to the point that Talthybius makes a point of emphasizing that Polyxena managed to hide her body as she died in order to maintain modesty. Part of Polyxena's argument was precisely to be able to maintain as much dignity as possible, since this was and would be further stripped from her as a princess on the losing side and enslaved girl.

In The Heraclidae, Maiden has the chance to escape the sacrifice, but doesn’t do so, going so far as to refuse a lottery (which maybe would have given a maiden other than her and thus prevented her from being killed) and offers to be sacrificed, thinking that this will help her city win the conflict since the oracle informed them that they would only win if a maiden was sacrificed. She does so even though Iolaus shows resistance to the idea. Maiden sees this as a noble act because she considers it to demonstrate her courage and not her cowardice, again indicating how this is something she does because she wants to be heroic and save everyone.

In all cases, one or more figures demonstrate more resistance than the person who will die (Admetus/Alcestis, Creon/Menoeceus, Clytemnestra-Achilles/Iphigenia, Hecuba/Polyxena, Iolaus/Maiden), which isn’t the case with Andromeda, who in the fragments seems to be the one demonstrating the most active resistance. The characters refuse this resistance for their own reasons, but unlike Andromeda, she begs Perseus to help, actively wanting her sacrifice to be stopped (frag 128). Eventually the character allows herself to be sacrificed, even though the reasons and context are quite difficult and in all cases there is a hint of coercion in the fact that, if they don’t accept, they will either be forced or will condemn the others. With this kind of attitude, they claim it as a way of maintaining dignity, or as a noble act, or as a heroic attitude or something of the sort. Andromeda doesn’t do this, she sees it as a complete tragedy, as a miserable life, and she doesn’t seem to try to comfort herself with the idea that if she accepts being sacrificed, she will be heroic (frag 122). In any case, none of them have their movements limited, as they’re all “willing”. On the other hand, Andromeda is chained, as if, by allowing her freedom, she won’t stay there. The physical immobilization itself is a miserable attempt to immobilize her emotions, to make her conform. She is physically chained, yes, but metaphorically she is also supposed to feel chained by duty to her people… and yet Andromeda isn’t. There is no patriotism in the world that will make her be. Silva (2023, p. 122) is of the opinion that Andromeda’s lament, unlike Iphigenia’s lament, doesn’t demonstrate any longing for the past and no hope that her mother or father will do something for her. There is nothing that will make her invest emotionally to the point of giving up on living, even under coercion.

In fact, Andromeda seems to contrast some elements of the other characters! For example:

Polyxena, in Hecuba, says “By the gods, leave me free; so slay me, that death may find me free; for to be called a slave among the dead fills my royal heart with shame“ (550-552, trans. E.P Coleridge), thought apparently shared by The Trojan Women Andromache when she speaks “Her death was even as it was, and yet that death of hers was after all a happier fate than my life” (630-631, trans. E.P. Coleridge) concerning the death of Polyxena. But Andromeda, when begging Perseus says “take me with you, stranger, whether you want me as a servant, a wife, or a slave” (frag 129, Loeb edition), implying that she would even prefer to be enslaved rather than die, which is the opposite of Polyxena.

In Iphigenia in Aulis, Achilles says “But now that I have looked into your noble nature, I feel still more a fond desire to win you for my bride. Look to it; for I want to serve you and receive you in my halls; and, Thetis be my witness, how I grieve to think I shall not save your life by doing battle with the Danaids. Reflect, I say; a dreadful ill is death” (1410-1415, trans. E.P. Coleridge), reiterating the offer that Iphigenia could supposedly marry him after he saved her (she wouldn’t be obliged to marry in order for him to save her, to be clear. But since Iphigenia had initially wanted to marry, his offer was a way of guaranteeing her something), but between (unlikely) marriage and death, Iphigenia still declines Achilles' offer by saying "let me, if I can, save Hellas" (1420, trans. E.P. Coleridge). On the other hand, Andromeda accepts Perseus' offer that, as a reward for rescuing her, she marry him (frag. 129-129a).

Bocholier (2020, p. 15), when commenting on the plot of The Heraclidae, says “Who but a girl, besides, to embody this absolute fidelity to kin and blood ties, this family order older than the Greece of the cities?”, interpreting that Maiden's sacrifice has a symbolic aspect regarding familial loyalty — that is, Maiden offers herself out of loyalty to her family and her city, which theoretically should be above her own desires. On the other hand, Andromeda seems to deal with a lack of family structure more than a reaffirmation of those relationships. Cassiopeia, her mother, didn’t consider the consequences when she committed hubris (although she obviously didn't want that) and Cepheus, her father, may not have been happy with the sacrifice, but still went so far as to accept his daughter being chained. And when it is all over, Andromeda still leaves with Perseus despite Cepheus' disapproval (a reconstruction theory based on later sources that indicate that Euripides had this plot). There is no reaffirmation of filial loyalty here, although the familial relationship is still complex.

And still on the subject of chaining, while in The Phoenician Women Creon offered Menoeceus the chance to escape to another place and be helped by his father when Creon suggests “But come, my son, before the whole city learns this, fly with all haste away from this land, regardless of these prophets' reckless warnings; for he will tell all this to our rulers and generals [going to the seven gates and the captains]; now if we can forestall him, you are saved, but if you are too late, we are ruined and you will die” (970-976, trans. E.P. Coleridge), Cepheus never gave Andromeda such an opportunity. Menoeceus didn’t run away because he chose to, but Andromeda didn’t run away because she had no choice (frag 122).

In Alcestis, the request needs someone willing to die, without requiring a specific person and desiring live will. But in the myth of Andromeda, she is specifically requested and her willingness isn’t required.

In this sense, it is as if the characters were divided into the following categories:

Certainly voluntary sacrifice, since the willingness was necessary and there was no external agent that forced it: Alcestis;

Ambiguous sacrifice in voluntariness, since although the characters claim their agency by transforming the sacrifice into something that supposedly benefits them, there are still external agents that would possibly prevent them from rejecting it: Polyxena, Iphigenia, Menoeceus, Maiden.

Certainly involuntary sacrifice, since disposition doesn’t matter, there is no claim of agency and there are repeated attempts until the end of the play to escape: Andromeda.

While the other characters died clothed, this kind of dignity is sometimes not afforded to Andromeda: “I was looking at the picture of Andromeda brought down by Perseus naked from the rock” (Hellodorus’ Ethiopica trans. Thomas Underdowne), “Andromeda, fettered to a jutting rock, her hair hanging loose about her shoulders; ye Gods, what loveliness was there exposed to view!” (Dialogues of the Sea 14 trans. H.W. and F.G. Flower). Again, it makes it hard to believe that her sacrifice was considered voluntary or even ambiguous. She is, of course, not always mentioned naked and has often been visually depicted clothed, but the chains still seem a constant. Even when Andromeda is fully clothed, she has still been stripped of her agency. She still feels humiliated, still feels as if she isn’t being treated as a person. This is all still very disturbing for Andromeda, an overwhelming feeling that the end is coming and she can't do anything about it — an immense feeling of helplessness. A princess stripped of any power, quite ironic.

Comparing some lines:

“Who will escort me from here, before my hair is torn?”, Iphigenia asks in 1458. Hair-pulling is a form of violent humiliation known from Greek works, but it’s especially famous in the visual representations in which the Trojan princess Cassandra is depicted with her hair being pulled by Lesser Ajax. Other visual examples that I know of are a visual source that shows Achilles dragging prince Troilus by his hair and two visual sources that show Clytemnestra dragging Cassandra by her hair. With this line, Iphigenia shows that, as much as she saw pride in her voluntary sacrifice, she is quite aware that if she hadn’t accepted, she would have been violently coerced (something that, for example, happened in Aeschylus' version, as indicated in the play Agamemnon). Therefore, by accepting, Iphigenia also demonstrates an attempt to control the dignity with which she dies.

“Then he, half glad, half sorry in his pity for the maid, cut with the steel the channels of her breath, and streams of blood gushed forth; but she, even in death, took good heed to fall with grace, hiding from the gaze of men what must be hidden. When she had breathed her last through the fatal gash, no Argive set his hand to the same task, but some were strewing leaves over the corpse in handfuls, others bringing pine-logs and heaping up a pyre; and the one who brought nothing would hear from him who did such taunts as these, “Do you stand still, ignoble wretch, with no robe or ornament to bring for the maiden? will you give nothing to her that showed such peerless bravery and spirit?”, says Talthybius when reporting the sacrifice of Polyxena in 566-580. Polyxena isn’t shown being held down while she is killed, as happens in some visual representations in which she is immobilized by Achaeans, but rather offering her chest (heart) and throat (trachea) to be cut. By exposing herself without an external agent immobilizing her, Polyxena is given the chance, in her last moments, to be able to quickly move to cover herself, thus dying in a way that she considers dignified (i.e., not naked to the eyes of the enemy). Although her sacrifice is required by the context, her attitude of exposing herself is interpreted as a sign of bravery and, therefore, she receives ornaments, which theoretically should be a form of funerary honor. Such “honor” would hardly have been made available to Polyxena’s body if she weren’t seen as “brave”. If Polyxena had actively resisted, she would have forced herself into it and would have died in a much physically violent way, without any chance to try to gain as much comfort as possible from a miserable death.

While Menoeceus is never threatened with a possibly undignified situation (which makes me wonder if this has something to do with him being a male sacrifice required  rather than a sacrificial maiden), Creon's lines “Ah me! what shall I do? Am I to mourn with tears myself or my city, which has a cloud around it [as if it went through Acheron]? My son has died for his country, bringing glory to his name, but grievous woe to me. His body I have just now taken from the dragon's rocky lair and sadly carried the self-slain victim here in my arms; and the house is filled with weeping; but now I have come for my sister Jocasta, age seeking age, that she may bathe my child's corpse and lay it out. For those who are not dead must reverence the god below by paying honor to the dead” in 1310-1321 are structured so that the declaration that Menoeceus' death was heroic precedes the demand for dignified funeral honors. Voluntary death dignified Menoeceus.

Maiden isn’t threatened because her sacrifice isn’t asked for directly, but by saying “Then fear no more the Argive enemy's spear. For I am ready, old man, of my own accord and unbidden, to appear for sacrifice and be killed. For what shall we say if this city is willing to run great risks on our behalf, and yet we, who lay toil and struggle on others, run away from death when it lies in our power to save them? It must not be so, for it deserves nothing but mockery if we sit and groan as suppliants of the gods and yet, though we are descended from that great man who is our father, show ourselves to be cowards. How can this be fitting in the eyes of men of nobility? Much finer, I suppose, if this city were to be capture（God forbid! and I were to fall into the hands of the enemy and then when I, daughter of a noble father, have suffered dishonor, go to my death all the same! But shall I then accept exile from this land and be a wanderer? Shall I not feel shame if someone thereafter asks, [Why do you come here with your suppliant branches when you yourselves lack courage? Leave this land: for we do not give help to the base]?” in 500-519 (trans. David Kovacs) she reveals that her motivation isn’t solely heroic. It isn’t only that she wishes to demonstrate courage and nobility by sacrificing herself for the good of all, but it is also because she recognizes that if the prophecy isn’t fulfilled and no maiden is sacrificed, her people will lose the war and that means dead men and enslaved women, including herself. By sacrificing herself, Maiden prevents herself from being enslaved and also prevents other women from being enslaved. She follows a logic that it’s better to have a glorious death than a miserable life, again her voluntariness linked to the dignity.

The case of Alcestis doesn’t apply in this specific comparison, as the sacrifice couldn’t be coerced.

In contrast, Andromeda feels so humiliated that she compares herself to food, and part of this feeling that her dignity has been taken away from her is motivated by the chain: “to set (me) out as food for the sea monster” (frag 115), “[...] but entangled in close bonds I am presented as food [...]” (frag 122). Devoured by the monster, Andromeda wouldn’t have a quick and clean death, and it would definitely not be a death that would make her feel dignified. She feels like food because she feels dehumanized. She has no hope of trying to find a more "humane" or "dignified" way to die because, once the death is being eaten alive by a monster, there aren't many options.

There are texts, both Greek and Roman, that emphasize Andromeda's feelings at the moment, making it clear how sad she was about being sacrificed and how happy she was to be saved:

Euripides’ Andromeda — “Why have I, Andromeda, been given a share of suffering above all others—I, who in misery here am facing death?”, frag 115; “Feel my pain with me, for the sufferer who shares his tears has some relief from his burden”, frag 119. Loeb edition.

Ovid’s Metamorphosis — “but the breeze moved in her hair, and from her streaming eyes the warm tears fel [...] as overcome with shame, she made no sound: were not she fettered she would surely hide her blushing head; but what she could perform that did she do—she filled her eyes with tears [...] Over the waves a monster fast approached, its head held high, abreast the wide expanse —The virgin shrieked”, Book 4. Translation by Brookes More.

Ovid’s Ars Amatoria — “What was less hoped for by Andromeda, in chains han that her tears could please anyone?”, Book 3. Translation by A.S. Kline.

Philostratus, Imagines — “for she seems to be incredulous, her joy is mingled with fear, and as she gazes at Perseus she begins to send a smile towards him”, 1.29. Translation by Arthur Fairbanks

Nonnus’ Dionysiaca — “Perseus saved Andromeda in her affliction”, Book 18; “old Cepheus is unhappy still, when he sees Andromeda's fear, and the Monster of Olympos coming, after what happened here on earth!”, Book 25. Translation by W.H.D. Rouse.

Andromeda’s unhappiness at being sacrificed may not necessarily indicate her lack of consent to it — after all, Iphigenia in Iphigenia in Aulis also openly expressed her unhappiness and in the end she consented —, but her determination to get help and her immense joy at actually being helped are indications of how unwilling she was. She could have refused it, just as the other characters I’ve given as examples did, but she didn’t. Andromeda wanted this help because she never wanted to be there and she never even tried to regain agency like, for example, Polyxena did — who also didn't want to be in the situation she was in and had no real agency but tried to get the impression of it. Andromeda accepted that she had no agency and showed no signs of wanting to subvert it. It’s as if, while Iphigenia made the sacrifice about her more than the war, Andromeda had no such pretensions. Andromeda not only knows it’s not about her — she also doesn’t want it to be. There is no sense of accomplishment for her, as there may have been for Menoeceus and Maiden. She is in deep despair. In this sense, Euripides' Andromeda more closely resembles the kind of description Aeschylus offered of Iphigenia's sacrifice, in which she wept and screamed and resisted so much that she was immobilized and silenced. That is, she more closely resembles an example where there isn’t a self-sacrifice, but an entirely forced sacrifice without any attempt to regain agency through the sacrifice itself, but the agency being played out in vain resistance (for however much Aeschylus Iphigenia and Euripides Andromeda resisted, it didn’t alter the minds of their people. Andromeda had an strange not affected by the context to be bothered by the situation, but Iphigenia received no such thing).

Therefore, with this, I wanted to argue in favor of the idea that Andromeda's sacrifice, in the sources in general, isn’t voluntary.

ANDROMEDA AND PERSEUS: A LOVE STORY?

Here, I’ll discuss my interpretation of the relationship based on the sources. First, it’s notable that there is an eroticism surrounding the myth of Andromeda. Although this is already evident in many sources, it becomes even more obvious when the god Eros is literally included. In the Greco-Roman literary sources, these are some examples of the emphasis on eroticism in the myth (note that I’m using eroticism as an term for both romance and sexuality):

Above all beware of reproaching girls for their faults, it’s useful to ignore so many things. Andromeda’s dark complexion was not criticised by Perseus, who was borne aloft by wings on his feet. [...]

Ars Amatoria, Book 2. Translation by A.S. Kline.

PHILODEMUS O feet, O legs, O thighs for which I justly died, O buttocks, O pubis, O flanks, O shoulders, O breasts, O slender neck, O arms, O eyes I am mad for, O accomplished movement, O admirable kisses, O exclamations that excite! If she is Italian and her name is Flora and she does not sing Sappho, yet Perseus was in love with Indian Andromeda.

Greek Anthology, 5.132. Translation by W.R. Paton.

TRITON: When he was at the Ethiopian shore here, and now flying low, he saw Andromeda lying fastened to a projecting rock—ye gods, what a beautiful sight she was!—with her hair let down, but largely uncovered from the breasts downwards. At first he pitied her fate and asked the reason for her punishment, but little by little he succumbed to love, and decided to help, since she had to be saved. So when the monster came—a fearsome sight it was too!—to gulp her down, the young man hovered above it with his scimitar unsheathed, and, striking with one hand, showed it the Gorgon with the other, and turned it into stone. At one and the same time was the monster killed, and most of it, all of it that faced Medusa, petrified. Then Perseus undid the maiden’s chains, and supported her with his hand as she tip-toed down from the slippery rock. Now he’s marrying her in Cepheus’ palace and will take her away to Argos, so that, instead of dying, she’s come by an uncommonly good marriage.

Dialogue of the Sea Gods, 14.3.  Translation by Henry Watson and Fowler.

[...] Without a dower he takes Andromeda, the guerdon of his glorious victory, nor hesitates.—Now pacing in the van, both Love [Eros] and Hymen wave the flaring torch, abundant perfumes lavished in the flames. The houses are bedecked with wreathed flowers; and lyres and flageolets resound, and songs— felicit notes that happy hearts declare. The portals opened, sumptuous halls display their golden splendours, and the noble lords of Cepheus' court take places at the feast, magnificently served. After the feast, when every heart was warming to the joys of genial Bacchus , then, Lyncidian Perseus asked about the land and its ways about the customs and the character of its heroes. [...]

Metamorphoses, Book 4. Translation by Brookes More.

No, this is not the Red Sea nor are these inhabitants of India, but Ethiopians and a Greek man in Ethiopia. And of the exploit which I think the man undertook voluntarily for love, my boy, you must have heard – the exploit of Perseus who, they say, slew in Ethiopia a monster from the sea of Atlas, which was making its way against herds and the people of this land. Now the painter glorifies this tale and shows his pity for Andromeda in that she was given over to the monster. The contest is already finished and the monster lies stretched out on the strand, weltering in streams of blood – the reason the sea is red – while Eros [Love] frees Andromeda from her bonds. Eros is painted with wings as usual, but here, as it not usual, he is a young man, panting and still showing the effects of his toil; for before the deed Perseus put up a prayer to Eros that he should come and with him swoop down upon the creature, and Eros came, for he heard the Greek’s prayer. The maiden is charming in that she is fair of skin though in Ethiopia, and charming is the very beauty of her form; she would surpass a Lydian girl in daintiness, an Attic girl in stateliness, a Spartan in sturdiness. Her beauty is enhanced by the circumstances of the moment; for she seems to be incredulous, her joy is mingled with fear, and as she gazes at Perseus she begins to send a smile towards him. He, not far from the maiden, lies in the sweet fragrant grass, dripping sweat on the ground and keeping the Gorgon’s head hidden lest people see it and be turned to stone. Many cow-herds come offering him milk and wine to drink, charming Ethiopians with their strange colouring and their grim smiles; and they show that they are pleased, and most of them look alike, Perseus welcomes their gifts and, supporting himself on his left elbow, he lefts his chest, filled with breath through panting, and keeps his gaze upon the maiden, and lets the wind blow out his chlamys, which is purple and spattered with drops of blood and with the flecks which the creature breathed upon it in the struggle. Let he children of Pelops perish when it comes to a comparison with the shoulder of Perseus! for beautiful as he is and ruddy of face, his bloom has been enhanced by his toil and his veins are swollen, as is wont to happen when the breath comes quickly. Much gratitude does he win from the maiden.

Imagines, 1.29. Translation by Arthur Fairbanks.

ANTIPHILUS On a Painting of Andromeda The land is Ethiopian; he with the winged sandals is Perseus; she who is chained to the rock is Andromeda; the face is the Gorgon’s, whose glance turns men to stone; the sea-monster is the task set by Love [Eros], she who boasted of her child’s beauty is Cassiopea. Andromeda releases from the rock her feet inured to numbness and dead, and her suitor carries off the bride his prize.

Greek Anthology, 16.147. Translation by W.R. Paton.

When he saw the girl hanging from the rock,  he stiffened—he whom even his enemy had not stunned.  Scarcely did he hold his prize in his hand,  and the conqueror of Medusa was conquered in the presence of  Andromeda.

Liber Quintus. Translation by James Uden. [Detail: there is also the argument that this source is actually a way of de-emphasizing eroticism, for those interested see “A Song from the Universal Chorus: The Perseus and Andromeda Epyllion”]

Regarding visual representations, Odgen (2008, p. 81-82) comments:

Artists also exploited the erotic potential of the suspended Andromeda. Vase painters and wall painters often preferred to represent her clothing diaphanously (e.g. LIMC Andromeda I no. 23, a Sicilian calyx-crater of ca. 350–25 bc, and no. 32, a Roman wall- painting from Boscotrecase). And as with the writers, wardrobe mal- function could be deployed to enhance the effect. One notable example of this is found in the case of a fragment of a Lucanian bell-crater of the early fourth century bc, on which a voluptuous Andromeda holds her thin peplos-dress up in her teeth to preserve her modesty (LIMC Andromeda I no. 22). In ca. 340 bc the female nude entered the canon of Greek sculpture, and this seems to have had an impact on the ways in which Andromeda could be shown. A nude Hellenistic statue, preserved only in the form of a Roman copy reduced to little more than a torso, indicates what could be done. The delicate chain that rests across the top of the girl’s right thigh offers little to her modesty (LIMC Andromeda I no. 157, from Alexandria). No doubt this was the sort of thing Roman writers had in mind when they compared the suspended Andromeda to a statue. Full nudity was too much for the vase painters, and the only completely nude Andromeda to be found on a vase is a burlesque figure of ca. 340–30 bc on a Campanian hydria (LIMC Andromeda I no. 20). From the third century bc and onwards Etruscan and Roman relief-sculptors and wall-painters were less reticent about going all the way (e.g. LIMC Andromeda I nos. 53, 55, 75, 146a, 152). Roman artists favoured three tender vignettes with little or no correlate in the literary tradition, and all of these are to be found in profusion in Pompeian wall-paintings. In one Perseus is shown helping Andromeda down from her place of suspension, with a miniaturised dead ketos sometimes lying at their feet (e.g. LIMC Andromeda I nos. 67–71, 73–4, 78, 83–9, 209–11, 222). In the second, completely absent from the written record, we catch a now fully relaxed Perseus and Andromeda, their troubles behind them, sitting together and gazing at the reflection of the Gorgon-head in a rock-pool. Perseus is evidently recounting his earlier adventures to his new fiancée, perhaps still on the shore where the ketos was killed (LIMC Andromeda I nos.102–4, 109–10, 118, 120, Perseus nos. 66–73). In the third we find Perseus transporting Andromeda through the air, presumably back to Seriphos (LIMC Perseus nos. 229–30).

Furthermore, it must be considered that Eros/Love is represented, in some cases, in ceramics that address the rescue of Andromeda by Perseus, emphasizing the eroticism of the myth (for example, see here).

Gibert (1999-2000), in relation to Euripides' play Andromeda, comments on how it most likely had as its focus not the heroic conquest of Perseus, but the love between Perseus and Andromeda. There are even surviving lines in which the god Eros is invoked to help the pair of star-crossed lovers. One of the possibilities to be commented on is also the chances that Andromeda was the first play to represent a man falling in love. Note that it isn’t “a man in love”, but a “man falling in love” — that is, the moment in which the feeling arises. Furthermore, Andromeda was part of a trilogy that also contained the play Helen, which, unlike Andromeda, has survived. Although Helen has more than one theme, the emphasis on the romantic relationship between Helen and Menelaus is quite obvious, which perhaps allows for the theory that this specific trilogy proposed an approach to mythological romantic relationships. Not only that, but both Andromeda and Helen are a subject of debate in terms of genre, with scholars debating whether they are tragedy, comedy, or something else — much of this debate exists by the fact that Aristotle’s “Poetics” is often used as a reference for the rules of theatrical genres. Euripides, in this trilogy, apparently wasn’t trying to follow the known strict formulas.

The presence of such strong eroticism in the myth of Andromeda is actually something that intrigues me. It intrigues me how, in some ways, their relationship became stronger than Perseus’ heroic conquests. Yes, Perseus is still praised for facing Cetus, saving Andromeda, and then dealing with Phineus, but the focus is still on how he and Andromeda feel about each other. This, at least to my mind, still sounds more like a relationship myth than a conquest myth, although both elements are present and important. Even when we have sources that speak of Perseus' immortalization in the stars, Andromeda is usually emphasized as being immortalized in the stars as well (Nonnus' Dionysiaca, Pseudo-Hyginus' Astronomica, Aratus' Phaenomena).

Regarding Andromeda's reciprocity, Silva (2023, p. 130-131) comments that Andromeda, as a character in an Euripidean play that includes the elements of “escape” and “salvation,” resembles Euripidean characters Iphigenia (Iphigenia in Tauris) and Helen (Helen), and this would include her non-passivity in her escape. She supports this idea with what Erastatones says in Catasterismi 17, where he describes that Andromeda refused to stay her father and mother and went with Perseus of her own free will, and what is said in Pseudo-Hyginus' Astronomica, which gives a similar account that also emphasizes Andromeda's desire. For Silva, the play, therefore, addresses the idea of ​​a girl abandoning her family and homeland in order to follow her lover to an unknown situation. She also recalls that Peterson (1904, p. 101) interpreted Andromeda's decision as a disregard for traditional duties, after all she disobeyed her parents' wishes and left her homeland to go with a stranger. It wasn't supposed to be an easy decision.

Pseudo-Apollodorus records:

[...] But Ammon having predicted deliverance from the calamity if Cassiepea's daughter Andromeda were exposed as a prey to the monster, Cepheus was compelled by the Ethiopians to do it, and he bound his daughter to a rock. When Perseus beheld her, he loved her and promised Cepheus that he would kill the monster, if he would give him the rescued damsel to wife. These terms having been sworn to, Perseus withstood and slew the monster and released Andromeda. However, Phineus, who was a brother of Cepheus, and to whom Andromeda had been first betrothed, plotted against him; but Perseus discovered the plot, and by showing the Gorgon turned him and his fellow conspirators at once into stone. [...]

Library, 2.4.3. Translation by J.G. Frazer.

Regarding this passage, Faria (2023, p. 11) interprets that “it can be inferred that Perseus takes Andromeda's salvation as proof of love and, in order to free her, he faces the monster to which she was exposed and deals with conspiracies and adversities from opponents, such as Phineus” (improvised translation, the original was in Portuguese).

Now that I have established why I think Perseus was motivated by love and that the feeling was mutual, I’ll argue why I think the marriage was beneficial to Andromeda. Again, the comparison territory! Hesione is probably the sacrificial maiden most similar to Andromeda and I wouldn’t be surprised if one was derived from the other. Laomedon, the Trojan king, didn’t pay homage to the gods Apollo and Poseidon by building the walls of Troy, forced by the king of the gods Zeus to do so as punishment for both of them being part of a plan to betray him. This led to the prophecy that a sea monster would be sent to destroy Troy and that the only way to prevent this would be to sacrifice Hesione, one of the princesses. Heracles, seeing her there and talking to her, learned of what had happened. He then told King Laomedon that he would save her and Troy by killing the monster, but that he wanted Laomedon's divine horses as a reward (which, depending on the source, are explained as gifts from Zeus as compensation for the kidnapping of the young and beautiful Ganymede). Laomedon made the promise, but, just as he didn’t fulfill his duty to the gods, he didn’t fulfill his duty to Heracles. As a result, Heracles, along with other Achaeans, sacked Troy with drastic results. Priam, one of the princes, ended up inheriting Laomedon's throne, and Hesione was taken as a prize of war, with Heracles giving her to Telamon for his usefulness in the sack (see, for example, Pseudo-Apollodorus' Library and the Byzantine scholia of The Iliad).

The similarities to Andromeda are obvious, in terms of context:

The event takes place in a foreign/non-Greek place (Aethiopia/Troy);

A hierarchical power figure of the community commits hubris against the gods (Cassiopeia/Laomedon);

Poseidon is involved in both cases (he is requested by the Nereids, who were offended/he is one of the offended gods);

It’s prophesied that a sea monster (in the case of Andromeda, his name is Cetus) will destroy the city (Aethiopia/Troy) as punishment for this hubris; 

It’s also prophesied that the only way to avoid the destruction of the city (Aethiopia/Troy) is with the sacrifice of the daughter (Andromeda/Hesione) of the one who offended the gods (Cassiopeia/Laomedon). They’re both maidens and the sacrifice of both is justified as being the "best" for the community;

A Greek hero (Perseus/Heracles) appears, talks to the maiden (Andromeda/Hesione), finds out from her what is happening and negotiates a reward with her father (marriage/divine horses). Both heroes are sons of Zeusand have a mortal father figure (Dictys/Amphitryon);

The monster is defeated, the girl (Andromeda/Hesione) is taken.

There are, however, some crucial differences here, which I’ll comment on. Well, let us return to Euripides. Although the fragments of the play Andromeda aren’t in a 100% sure order, this is one of the possibilities suggested:

Perseus Maiden, if I should rescue you, will you show me gratitude?  Andromeda Take me with you, stranger, whether you want me a servant, a wife or a slave. Perseus  I have never abused the unfortunate in their unfortunate in adversity, for I may suffer adversity myself. Andromeda Do not bring me to tears by offering my hope; many things may happen that are unanticipated. 

Fragments 129-130. Loeb edition.

If we consider that the order is this, then the dialogue would be structured in such a way as to build a scene in which, despite Perseus initially demanding a reward for saving Andromeda, when Andromeda responded with such desperation (indicated by the way she even claims that she would be his slave, as long as he saved her), Perseus apparently realized that this wasn’t the best thing to say and made sure to assure Andromeda that he wouldn’t use her current vulnerability as a way to exploit her (which is why, right after Andromeda suggested slavery as his reward, Perseus claimed that he avoids taking advantage of other people's misfortune). In this case, Perseus would apparently be recognizing Andromeda's lack of power at that moment, knowing that vulnerability would possibly make her enter into exploitative scenarios, and in response he would have tried to assure her that her safety was guaranteed.

If this is indeed the original order of the play, it would make Andromeda's situation quite different from Hesione's. Hesione had no such safety guaranteed to her by Heracles or Telamon; she was actually taken to be enslaved in Salamis. For example, in Pseudo-Apollodorus Library 2.6.4 she is said to have been given as a prize to Telamon (“he [Heracles] assigned Laomedon's daughter Hesione as a prize to Telamon”, trans. J.G. Frazer), in Sophocles’ Ajax she is directly referred to as an enslaved captive (“you, the captive slave's son”, trans. Richard Jebb), and in the Byzantine scholia the scholiast makes Hesione's extremely disadvantageous situation even more obvious by saying “When Heracles sacked Troy, he took as prisoner Hesione, the daughter of Laomedon (and sister of Priam), and gave her as a war-prize to Telamon because he had fought with him” (trans. R. Scott Smith). Hesione has no legitimate status and consequently doesn’t have the legal protection of a wife. She is an enslaved woman, not a free person. We don't have to think about what Andromeda's life would be like if Perseus was the kind of guy who saved a girl from being sacrificed just to get her as a prize, without really considering her safety or feelings, because Telamon already did that with Hesione. We already know that story. Sure, there are a lot of euphemisms for master-slave relationships in the writing of some ancient authors, Briseis and Achilles is probably the most obvious example of this with authors talking about how Briseis' beauty turned him on and oh how he would leave the battlefield from her bed and the like, but even Briseis has been acknowledged for her disadvantageous status in various texts. No one has the slightest doubt that she has no legal protection, no one has the slightest doubt that Achilles has more power over her than any healthy relationship should allow and the Byzantine scholia, just as it recognized that Hesione is a prisoner, recognized that Iliadic Achilles wasn’t really caring about Briseis. But Andromeda? She never had this type of source. There is no euphemism in the world that would make Andromeda, with the amount of sources she has, not have been identified as being in a disadvantageous situation by at least one author. I would understand if she was a obscure character, but she's not.

And to further emphasize how Hesione is a very obvious example of what happens when the hero isn’t genuinely trying to save the girl, consider this fragment from Euripides’ play that is interpreted as Andromeda’s: “I forbid the acquiring of illegitame sons. Though in no way inferior to legitimate ones, they are handicapped by convention and this is something you must beware of” (frag 141). Presumably this line is Andromeda making Perseus assure her that he won’t have any illegitimate children, that is, children other than with Andromeda, whom he is promising to make his wife. The justification is that this will be a problem for the child who, no matter how good they are, will be treated with contempt by social convention. And well, since Hesione is an enslaved concubine and not a wife, Teucer, her son, is illegitimate. And he does have a problem with that. In Book 10 of The Iliad, Agamemnon reminds him that Telamon raising him in his household despite Teucer being a bastard is something that should be rewarded by Teucer bringing glory to Salamis. In Sophocles' Ajax, Agamemnon dismisses Teucer by saying that, as the son of an enslaved Trojan woman, he is also a barbarian and a slave, and as such, Agamemnon has no reason to listen to him. In other sources (Sophocles' lost plays, Euripides' Helen, Ioannis Tzetzes' Ad Lycophronem, Pausanias' Description of Greece, etc), Ajax's death results in Teucer's banishment by Telamon. Teucer's safety in Salamis was assured by Ajax, the legitimate son, caring for him. From the moment Ajax died, Teucer, in his illegitimate condition, also lost his safety. Not only is Hesione the embodiment of what Perseus's assurance is meant to prevent, Teucer is the embodiment of what Andromeda's demand is meant to prevent. 

And interestingly, none of the sources mention Perseus having mistresses or illegitimate children, so from what can be assumed from the surviving sources, he was indeed loyal and faithful to Andromeda.

THE SUBVERSION OF ANDROMEDA’S MYTH

Even in the comedy genre, which wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, these aspects of Andromeda remain. In Thesmophoriazusae, Aristophanes wrote a scene parodying Euripides’ Andromeda. Consequently, the characterization of the characters in this absurd situation (the context of this scene is insane, but I honestly don’t think it’s useful for this post) reflects Euripidean characterization and, consequently, Andromeda here is represented as someone who actively mourns and wants help. However, this becomes comical. Lourenço (1995, p. 285-291) argues that Aristophanes parodied this specific play because, similar to Euripides’ Helen (also parodied by him), it was one of the materials that provided the greatest melodramatic potential. The subversion of parody lies in transforming the tragic into the comic and the romantic into a very unromantic scenario. if the subversion of the play, forming the parody, is in making it funny and unromantic, then it reinforces the status of Euripides' original play as the story of a tragic couple in love. Ribeiro (2018, p. 126-139) comments on how well received the play was at the time, capable of arousing a lot of sympathy from the public with the sweet and tragic couple. This type of parody wouldn’t have had the impact it had if it weren’t for the positive reception and the original aspects of Euripides' play. Even today, when calling Andromeda a "controversial" play, the intention tends to be more in the realm of debate about what makes something a tragic play in terms of genre. It usually takes into account what Aristotle says in Poetics, which clearly doesn’t fit with what we know about the structure of Andromeda (just as, for example, it doesn’t seem to fit with Helen) and that’s why there is the debate. It's not about having had a troubled reception.

Gibert says (1999-2000, p. 85-86):

This brings us back to genre. Perseus' love is the only target of Aristophanes' parody that might also be called a structural element of Andromeda's, love story. All of his targets, however, would have contributed to the unusual atmosphere and tone of the Euripidean original: the daring use of Echo, the exotic predicament and exaggerated pathos of the exposed maiden, and the arrival of the gallant hero through the air. So would several other elements of the dramatic situation. When they meet, the two principals are young and unattached, and Andromeda is a parthenos, ripe for marriage. A victim of her father's cruelty, she attracts sympathy through her opening scenes, and her savior Perseus appears to have been no less sympathetic a character. He was at any rate acceptable to Andromeda, and this suggests that the audience too will have wanted the couple's marriage plans to succeed. They do succeed, as everyone surely expected all along. Against this background, Perseus' constant love deserves to be called an ethically serious development of the legend's romantic potential. We do not know whether he expounded other motives or was consistently high-minded, nor whether Andromeda felt anything other than gratitude. In treating joyful true love seriously, however, Euripides enlarged the boundaries of the tragic genre.

In the Greek Anthology, an anonymous epigram presents Andromeda rejecting Perseus and he, enraged, petrifying her:

What Perseus would say after slaying the Monster, when Andromeda refused him: The cruel fetters of the rock have turned thy heart to stone, and now let the eye of Medusa turn thy body, too, to stone.

9.479. Translation by W.R. Paton.

This kind of epigram seems to be intended to be humorous by breaking expectations. Audiences familiar with the typical romantic story would be shocked at how messy everything has become. But then again, this kind of thing is only possible because there has been a breaking of expectations, which was only possible because Perseus and Andromeda was already known as a story of love and gratitude. Andromeda's refusal is supposed to surprise, it isn’t supposed to someone see this and think "aha! The real story that had been hidden!"

Conon, in Narrations 40, offers a rationalized version of the myth that doesn’t include a attempt of sacrifice. And yet, curiously, Andromeda's dissatisfaction with the situation imposed upon her is still evident:

The 40th story tells the history of Andromeda quite differently from the myth of the Greeks. Two brothers were born, Kepheus and Phineas, and the kingdom of Kepheus is what is later renamed Phoenicia but at the time was called Ioppa, taking its name from Ioppe the seaside city. And the borders of his realm ran from our sea [the Mediterranean] up to the Arabs who live on the Red Sea. Kepheus has a very fair daughter Andromeda, and Phoinix woos her and so does Phineas the brother of Kepheus. Kepheus decides after much calculation on both sides to give her to Phoinix but, by having the suitor kidnap her, conceal that it was intentional. Andromeda was snatched from a desert islet where she was accustomed to go and sacrifice to Aphrodite. When Phoinix kidnapped her in a ship (which was called Ketos [sea monster], whether by chance or because it had a likeness to the animal), Andromeda began screaming, assuming she was being kidnapped without her father's knowledge, and called for help with groans. Perseus the son of Danae by some daimonic chance was sailing by, and at first sight of the girl, was overcome by pity and love. He destroyed the ship Sea Monster and killed those aboard, who were only surprised, not actually turned to stone. And for the Greeks this became the sea monster of the myth and the people turned to stone by the Gorgon's head. So he makes Andromeda his wife and she sails with Perseus to Greece and they live in Argos where he becomes king.

Translation by Brady Kiesling.

Conon wanted to rationalize the myth, but still keep it with certain known themes and elements (e.g. Perseus rescuing Andromeda and Cepheus still being an ambiguous figure). And it makes you wonder...couldn't Andromeda's unwillingness be one of those elements?

Therefore, I think that, even looking at the logic of the subversions, my already shared opinions remain.

SECONDARY SOURCES

WEST, M.L. The Hesiodic Catalogue of Women: Its Nature, Structure and Origins. Oxford, 1985.

PHILIPS, Kyle. American Journal of Archaeology, Vol. 72, No. 1 (Jan., 1968), pp. 1-23.

BOCHOLIER, Julien. The Ambiguities of Voluntary Self-Sacrifice: the Case of Macaria in Euripides’ Heraclidae. 2020.

LOURENÇO, Frederico. HVMANITAS — Vol. XLV. Tema(s) e Desenvolvimento Temático nos Tesmoforiantes de Aristófanes. 1995. 

RIBEIRO, Wilson. Codex – Revista de Estudos Clássicos, Rio de Janeiro, vol. 6, n. 2, jul.-dez. 2018, pp. 123-15

ODGEN, Daniel. Perseus. Routledge, 2008.

SILVA, Maria de Fátima. PROMETEUS - Ano 15 - Número 43 – setembro - dezembro 2023.

GIBERT, John. Illinois Classical Studies, Vol. 24/25, Euripides and Tragic Theatre in the Late Fifth Century (1999-2000), pp. 75-91.

FARIA, Rui Tavares. Calíope: Presença Clássica | 2023.1 . Ano XL . Número 45 (separata 4). “O herói-viajante em Eurípides: missão, errância, reconhecimento e fuga”

[deadlysoupy]

Oh, you're interested in Bumblebee's and Prowl's dynamic? I have some thoughts about it! I really need to make a GIF of Prowl telling Bumblebee that his students have really become the masters in the season 3 finale. It's VERY sweet and Bumblebee deserves the praise SO DAMN MUCH after all the shit he went through in the show. As someone who really loves Earthspark's Bumblebee, it just feels so nice to me that he got to hear that, especially from someone who doesn't really know much about Earth at all and has basically no context whatsoever!

I wasn't sure what to expect when Prowl joined the cast of Earthspark and if I even wanted him to be in the show at first, but I'm really happy with how he's changed some of the dynamics in the cast. While there were some issues caused by the Hate Plague, it's nice that Bumblebee is finally getting to interact with somebody who is treating him professionally with a lot of respect. I liked the moment when Bumblebee criticized Prowl in the finale too, and Prowl said he never meant to insult anybody. ~arceespinkgun

YES I'VE BEEN MEANING TO MAKE A POST ABOUT THEM SO I GUESS THIS IS AS GOOD OF A TIME AS ANY LMAO

you should make that gif bcs that moment in particular makes me SOFT. no one really praised Bee for mentoring sparklings (and doing it WELL i might add), no one really checked with him to make sure he was okay, and here Prowl is, coming in full-swing, after such a bitter reunion too (i have been thinking about how they'd greet each other normally bcs????? they haven't seen each other before the whole hate plague situation??? AND EVERYONE GOT A REUNION SCENE EXCEPT BEE?????)

and yes its sooo great to have Prowl in the show because it's someone with a fresh perspective on their situation, he's an unbiased source who's words have value, he's also basically carrying a piece of history with him since he didn't even change his cybertronian alt-mode, and he honestly brings so much good perspective into the show (even if it sometimes doesn't know what to do with it, which i can't really blame anyone for)

what i love in a Bee and Prowl dynamic tho is how they seem to support each other and not afraid to be judged? like they both make mistakes, of course, but neither Prowl nor Bumblebee shy away from giving critique, and that seems to be EXACTLY what Bee needed. he's basically in such high pressure all the time that he can't really take or give any feedback without sounding like he disrespects authority, which he almost never does, he just needs some help and for people to ACTUALLY TAKE HIM SERIOUSLY, which Prowl does with flying colours. he gives Bee the space to complain and doesn't actually dismiss him, like you said, that scene in the finale has me bawling my eyes out BECAUSE Bee can just give someone slack like that and they don't?? shoo him away???? Prowl actually apologises and considers his words. i bet if that happened to someone like Optimus they'd just give Bee a "we'll talk later" and then they never actually will, but Prowl takes the problem right here and now and kinda. takes the L. from Bee. there's a lot to be valued here and i love it

their sort of shared episode together when they, Thrash and Robby were searching for the source of the hate plague, showed their dynamic in a very cool way, i just loved seeing them interact (and i definitely didn't forget about the comment Prowl made under the hate plague ("A supposed top scout who has let me into countless ambushes" ARGJRGHSRHJFS ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING MEEEE))

honestly they just make me wonder about the spec ops of tfe and the relationship other bots could have with each other. im so glad he's here tbh

[wetcatspellcaster]

2024 fic wrapped

I was tagged by @cursedhaglette to do this tag-game, but I found the focus on stats made me a little uncomfortable! (also, no one needs to know how many words I wrote while having multiple breakdowns last year, truly).

But, I didn't want to ignore Mia's tag! so instead, I'm going to take @cinnamontails-ff wrapped tag-game, just bc I sympathise with the logic and I like this set of questions a lot more!

Thank you Cin for coming up with questions that don't focus so much on productivity. And thank you again, Mia, for including me in the original game :) hopefully this is an acceptable substitute!

What's been your biggest learning point this past year?

I guess, what it feels like to be a 'popular' author - and the answer is, 'both good and bad, in fact, extremely mixed'. Obviously, many parts of it are wonderful: more people interacted with my work in the height of the BG3 fandom than I've ever had before, I felt like my writing mattered and I enjoyed every conversation I had about it. I also felt under a lot more scrutiny, very hyperaware of how I acted in 'public' (ie. on this blog), and aware of the people I'd disappoint with the directions I took my stories and what I chose to include. I also had to watch the baffling half-life of modern fandom! BG3's 6 month peak and 1yr trough was wild to me, as someone who joined dragon age 8yrs after the game was released. But I've decided I actually really like the middle-road of interaction, with much less noise and dedicated, recurring readers who I recognise and who make me smile and laugh every single time they comment or tag my work. I'll probably never experience whatever the fuck Pieces was ever again, and I'm honestly... ok with that, currently? Not to sound awful, but I'm not sure I liked it lmao.

In terms of my writing, my biggest learning point was "you're good at this, actually". Chanting this to myself in the mirror while I white-knuckle the sink.

How has your writing developed this past year?

I'm genuinely not certain. Pieces was certainly my most ambitious story yet, but a lot of the outlining of that took place in 2023 so it feels like the development happened then... though I suppose landing the dismount was something I worked very hard to do. I guess the main development this year was that a lot of what I wrote was extremely, extremely angsty. I wrote Pieces, I wrote This Is Not A Love Story. and I gave Rosalie to Orin :))))) this doesn't necessarily surprise me, given the way my writing often reflects things I'm dealing with in my life, and I've been trying to both recover from - and desparately stave off a relapse into - depression. I think that I can see why I keep making characters into the worst versions of themselves (this goes for Astarion, Rosalie - bc Pieces Rosalie is NOT in a good place, Gale and my Durge) and then watching them claw their way back to happiness in the hope of proving to myself that that's possible.

But jfc, it all got a little heavy. I've decided that 2025 is the Year of the Rom Com™.

Good writing habits?

Committing myself exclusively to what I want to read and sticking to my guns - which means I actually finish the thing, rather than getting into my own head about it.

Stretching my comfort zone a little (writing something vaguely smutty, writing something very different in style, switching genres for a bit) without losing my own voice.

Not falling into any jealousy/existential crises about my own writing, which I guess is much easier when you're experiencing a bout of 'success', but I've managed to keep it up even after the success began tailing off :)

I wrote a lot of words last year. I'm not putting the stat down but god. It was a lot.

Bad writing habits?

Overwriting everything. Everything. All the time. Party Favours was so short!!! I used to write novellas!!! Why are my chapters so fucking long now?????

Having multiple fic wips when I promised myself I'd wind down fanfic and start writing original work again :')

I wrote a lot of words last year. I think I did this bc I was extremely unhappy, and productivity is how I define myself. when I feel bad, I write and post bc it makes me feel good. And I felt very bad this year. So anyway, I think my wordcount is both a good thing and also a wee cry for help :'))))

Favorite thing you wrote?

Chapter Twenty-Three of Pieces (Mephistopheles consultation and my Ascended!Astarion meta-reveal)

Chapter Four of Cooler Than Me (putting the blorbos in a formal-wear situation)

I also liked my sex scene in Pieces :') it was tame but it was written for me specifically x

Favorite reads?

for fic!

long summer days can lead to lazy vices by @pouroverpaloma

eyes like fire by demonsbanebard

only once by @bearhugsandshrugs

and of course stitched into your sleeve by the bestie (@violacae)!!! my first ever gift fic!!!

for literature!

The Scholar and the Last Faerie Door by HG Parry

Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan

Deeplight by Frances Hardinge

Biggest win?

god. I'm endlessly grateful for my gift fic and for my fanart, but... it's got to be bookbindings. I used to daydream, about somebody ever wanting to have my fic bound, but I thought it was impossible and would never happen! I now know of 3 copies of my work that exist in the world :D and the ones I've seen were fucking gorgeous, like oh my fucking god.

I am also very proud I finished Pieces! It was my most ambitious project, and writing the ending presented even more challenges than I expected - as I discovered how much you write yourself into a corner when you resoul Astarion. I still haven't managed to read the completed work in full yet, but I'm proud it exists :)

Goals for the new year?

finish outstanding wips, and then see where my writing takes me next. I want to write original work, but I also don't want to make it a resolution. As long as I continue to enjoy writing, that's what matters most to me!

Your favorite words of the year, aka the words you check each chapter for, making sure you didn't repeat them 788 times?

I think I use '[x character] froze' a lot, but rather than focusing on my repetitions I want to focus on some of my favourite turns of phrase that I managed to pull from the ether! :)

'before her brief courtship with death threatened to become a commitment' - from the risk and the reward

'We can all still be butchered. We cut away the parts of ourselves to make us fit' - from this is a love story.

"He played an androgynous, morally-grey vampire, of indeterminate gender! In a nice coat! Anyone who had two working eyes and a relevant Kinsey Score read the porn, back in the day!” - from cooler than me

What are you excited for in the new year?

act 3 astarion characterisation for honest lie! the first big romance moment in cooler than me! and then just romcoms! 2025 is the year of the romcom! I want to write exclusively happy things!!!!

tagging: @cursedhaglette (as it's a different set of questions lmao), @imscissorbladez, @violacae, @eraserspiral, @scaryanneee, @sitting-in-the-sink, @pricemarshfield, @pouroverpaloma and anyone else who wants to give this a whirl. anyone is welcome, and if you tag me in it I'll share x

[ofpd]

yes i would love an exr fic rec list ‼️

ok then here are some of my faves & why i like them! putting them in alphabetical order so i don't overthink the order lol

Beautiful & Good by @riotstarruika

possibly the only canon era fic i've read about enjolras and grantaire in a healthy & functional relationship—something that has to be earned in order to be realistic, and this fic earns very well. it explores both characters so interestingly and thoroughly and overall is so lovely to read.

epiphany by Abidatchery

i really love the specific ways in which they fail or refuse to communicate here, but slowly grow to see each other a bit better when forced to by circumstance. this fic also has such a distinct atmosphere that it's both about les amis & all of paris having a wild time, while it slowly focuses more on enjolras and grantaire as they start to be more in their own world with just each other.

Eyes to Serve, Hands to Learn by @myrmidryad

94k words about enjolras and grantaire doing bdsm in really interesting ways & developing their relationship! this fic is what really got me obsessed with exr bdsm & developed my thoughts about it a lot. also i like to refer to it as "enjolras is hot au" bc well he's so much hotter than the celibate & insane about sex & naturally blond enjolras we know from canon lmao

If Truth Is North by @lesamis

who doesn't love a road trip between two people whose thinking and communication styles are fundamentally deeply incompatible! this fic really gets at enjolras and grantaire's psyches in such interesting, nuanced, and insightful ways; they clash so perfectly but slowly begin to understand each other & help each other grow.

Into the Light by AnarchyLuvver69

ok so enjolras and grantaire only really see each other when they die......so what if they became ghosts & processed everything over the course of decades while watching over france

It's Not the Same Anymore by @shamedumpster

i love how much care this fic puts into all the characters and how it balances being quite heavy at times with being heartwarming and loving throughout. also despite its length i've read it over the course of just a couple days multiple times lmao

On the Path to Elysium by @thevagueambition

grantaire characterization of all time to me! he's so assholeish at times and depressed and dysfunctional but clearly deeply caring, especially towards his friends. also an impressively-researched exploration of canon era queerness and all the different ways that les amis relate to it.

Stages Of Light by fallingvoices

the thing about this fic is that it's crazyyy it has the kind of lack of communication between them that i love and the vibes are so off-putting in such a good way and overall well i just really love when authors are brave enough to make them really not work well together except maybe when it comes to sex

You never have to wonder; you never have to ask. by gamesformay

a fic about les amis surviving a modern au version of their failed rebellion and having to figure out what comes next, and enjolras and grantaire having to figure out what their relationship is after having thought for a moment they were going to die together. some really amazing vibes that give the impression that you're reading about a group of friends with real history together and catching a snippet of their lives in paris.

this is just a few of the fics i've really enjoyed; you can check out my bookmarks for more if you'd like!

[milessunflowers]

poly!dino/paul = bobcat!dino, mountain lion!paul, coyote!reader!! (based on dms lol)(from a lil while ago but i swear it was)

WAIT NO BC I REMEMBER THIS AND I WAS OBSESSED (the one time living in the desert pays off 😅)

bobcat hybrid!dino begonavic x coyote hybrid!male!reader x mountain lion hybrid!paul aron

synopsis: your boyfriends are so sweet and accommodating of you, because even though they have adapted to being surrounded by people, you still aren't too keen about it

author's note: I LOVE DESERT HYBRIDS SM!! not only bc i live in the desert but because i see them all the time and they are genuinely gorgeous (which is what me and vinvin talked abt) so honestly, these hybrids fit tbh

to start, all three of your hybrids are typically reclusive and people repulsed animals

however, dino and paul are the opposite and very friendly with everyone

you on the other hand have really bad social anxiety so you are much like your hybrid side and skittish

dino, being a bobcat hybrid, is super protective/territorial of you and will nip at people when they get too close

paul is also territorial/protective but just not as intensely as dino because he knows you also want to try to work through your anxiety

you are super shy and bad with talking to people outside of dino, paul, and bunny!arthur who was your first friend

you tend to fidget with paul's tail when you start to feel really scared

dino picks up on it instantly as bobcats have really good senses and pulls you away into a secluded area

paul just barely growls if anyone comes close and whoever is there scatters because mountain lions are lowkey scary (but adorable)

paul and dino are a lot more active at night since their hybrids tend to be

you on the other hand aren't necessarily nocturnal and tend to just curl up in the bedroom/den while the other two play video games

sometimes you three do have to stay in separate rooms, since mountain lions and bobcats usually are solitary

it does make you sad since you are so used to being surrounded by a pack

but you know it's important for them so you usually invite arthur over for cuddles since he doesn't intimidate you like other hybrids do

sure, you are technically a predator, but you (as mentioned) are very skittish and have high social anxiety when it comes to most people/hybrids

you once had black cat!oscar over for cuddles which was surprisingly soothing for you

but when dino and paul are done with their alone time, they kick out arthur and oscar and curl around you

you love playing with their tails

dino's is stubby and fluffy so you like playfully pawing at it in bed

paul's is longer so you like twirling it around your arm, especially when you are really sleepy or anxious

once you are asleep though, the two go back to wondering around the apartment for a fee more hours before cuddling back up and falling asleep

you are up first in the morning and always make breakfast for them

they spook you in the morning though, on accident of course

you will have your back to then and since they are stealthy, they always surprise you

and then they feel really bad but you just nuzzle against them as they purr

you and paul often smell like dino since he wants everyone to know you are taken by him

its also a comfort for you to remember how much he loves you

paul, when attending dino's races with you, always has his tail near you incase you need to regulate or calm yourself so you don't run and hide

it works amazing and you seem to forget (for a while at least) how many people are around

you don't typically like having your tail touched by paul always baps it when he's feeling somewhat playful

dino and paul also like to groom your ears as a way to help soothe you too

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile, @alex-wotton, @raizelchrysanderoctavius

[bestworstcase]

Thanks for your response ala Ruby & Yang, great stuff!

Idle aside, but do you have any thoughts on Yang's role as the sort of black sheep of the family by dint of Raven associations?

Cos like, Tai overtly favors Ruby, projects Raven onto Yang, resents Raven being rough up and is bad enough about reminders of her Yang feels she has to apologize for his negative reactions. Let alone his... Everything else.

Then there's Qrow who doesn't seem to interact with Yang over much at all and one of if not their most major interaction. Involves him straight up saying he thinks she's either a liar hurting people for fun or "crazy".

I recall someone I was chatting with wondering: Imagine doing everything you can to keep your family from breaking apart & being compared to the woman who left you when you were a baby?

Cos I do wonder how Yang feels about all that given she seems to downplay and or try to work around her family's issues when she can. Let alone what it says about the adults in the room.

smth i think about a lot is the way yang’s narrative about her childhood shifts between v2 to v5

’cause in v2 it’s: “it was tough. ruby was really torn up, my dad kind of shut down. it wasn’t long before i learned why…” all to provide context for this anecdote about putting ruby in a wagon and running away to find her mother. and then her conclusion is “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.”

and while there is a degree here of yang framing the story to emphasize the point she wants blake to understand, it’s also very obvious in her delivery that the emotional reality of this memory for yang is “the time my stupidity and stubbornness almost got me and ruby eaten by grimm”—when she was [checks notes] like five, six years old, and regularly left at home unsupervised.

but in v5, it’s: “my mom left me. ruby’s mom left too. tai was always busy with school, and ruby couldn’t even talk yet; i had to pick up the pieces. i had to pick up the pieces. alone.”

aside from the telling slip (tai, not dad)—yang centers her own feelings and the harm this situation did to her this time. which is something she’s always felt but i don’t think she could have brought herself to say it out loud to anyone during the beacon arc, because it was pressed down under the guilt on display in burning the candle, the feeling of having been inadequate and too stubborn and too selfish and and and–

coughs quietly. “my stubbornness should have gotten us killed that night.” / “you were predictable. and… stubborn. and maybe a little boneheaded.” yang’s narrative about the wagon incident—which happened when she was five or six!—pinning the blame on the thing tai imagines to be her fatal flaw is…probably not coincidental. yang in v4 after a year of being loved by her team and supported by mentors like glynda / oobleck / port has the perspective to know that tai doesn’t know what he’s talking about; but as a small child who’d just had a terrifying near-death experience with her baby sister… 😶

it definitely had a big impact on the way yang sees herself

BUT i do read qrow's talk with yang in 3.8 pretty differently ->

because the context is: yang saw mercury attack her and struck back in self defense, then had like a dozen synthetic soldiers point guns in her face, then looked up and saw the replay footage of herself walking over to shoot a boy who was just kneeling on the ground. and some of the most powerful authority figures in the world are pushing this narrative that stress and adrenaline "clouded her judgment."

like this would make anyone doubt their sanity. bc holy shit.

yang, though...a couple weeks ago, yang after being knocked unconscious woke up and blearily saw someone she thought was her mother walk away from her and disappear in a flash of red light. she hasn't mentioned it to anyone, because it's just so bizarre—yang doesn't know about raven's semblance yet—she must have just been seeing things. right?

aside from raven (who isn't here) and yang (who believes she hallucinated), the only other person who knows that yang saw her mom on the train is qrow, because raven told him about it. he also knows that:

tai insisted on not telling yang ANYTHING about her mother, and qrow respected that up until now; so yang doesn't know about raven's semblance and can't make sense of what she saw.

salem's infiltrators are the same people who attacked amber, and qrow didn't get a good look at them because they seemingly vanished into thin air—pretty damn good chance that one of them has a semblance that manipulates what you see.

ozpin wants #2 kept secret, so yang has some very powerful people actively trying to convince her that she's crazy. ironwood is straight up gaslighting her.

qrow also—based on the first thing he says, which is "why'd you do it?"—seems to consider it a possibility that it is what it looked like but yang did have a good reason, and i actually do not think that is an outrageous thing for qrow specifically to think. because qrow was emotionally abused as a child, and he knows yang, and in the event that yang really did suddenly turn around and punch a guy who was kneeling on the ground, why would she do it?

glances at shay d. mann. well. maybe this kid has been harassing her? maybe he said something horrible or threatening to her and in the heat of the moment she just snapped? maybe "he attacked me, i saw him attack me" isn't really a lie per se, she's just scared that "he's been picking on me ever since he got here and he made a disgusting remark and i just couldn't take it anymore" won't be taken seriously? as in, he did attack her—verbally/emotionally.

it's probably worth asking, at least!

so, qrow leads with "why'd you do it?" in case there is some invisible reason justifying the apparent action. yang says "you know why." qrow goes okay, well, i only know what i saw, so you're either lying (i.e., yang had a reason she now isn't telling) or crazy (i.e., yang saw something different from reality that was very real to her).

she says "i'm not lying." qrow believes her: "crazy, got it."

at this point, he knows the most probable explanation is that one of salem's infiltrators fucked with her head. the inner circle's gaslighting doesn't sit right with him; he's not going to buck ozpin by telling her the truth outright, but he wants to make sure yang knows she isn't losing her mind. he also has all the info needed to guess that yang is actually really really scared that she might be crazy.

which is why he kicks off the wall and begins to pace around. the language he uses sounds dismissive, but his tone is mild and his body language implies "let's talk about it, let's figure this out."

leading to:

YANG: Who knows? Maybe I am. QROW: And here I thought your dark-haired friend was the emo one. YANG: I saw my mom. …I- I was in a lot of trouble, took a pretty hard hit. But when I came to, the person attacking me was gone, and I thought I saw… her. Her sword. Like the one in you and dad’s old picture. QROW: You’re not crazy, Yang. That was your mom, alright. Let me guess—she didn’t say a word, did she? YANG: How did you know that? QROW: I don't see my sister very often, but she does try to keep in touch... whenever it suits her. YANG: Wait—you mean you talk to her? That was real!? QROW: Yeah, she found me. Had a tip from my most recent assignment and wanted me to give you a message.

it's really telling that yang responds to him this way. 'cause we've seen how yang acts when she feels dismissed or belittled:

TAI: Well, "normal" is what you make of it. YANG: What is that supposed to mean? Do you want me to just pretend like nothing happened? I lost a part of me. A piece of me is gone. And it's never coming back. TAI: You're right. It's not coming back. But that doesn't have to stop you from becoming who you wanna be. You're Yang Xiao Long, my sunny little dragon. You can do whatever you put your mind to. So whenever you're ready to stop moping, and get back out there? I'll be there for you. YANG: I– I...

she freezes and shuts down! her teachers have to come to her rescue!—but when qrow goes "crazy, got it" and suggests she's being "emo," yang blurts out her big secret. i saw my mom. to me that suggests a level of trust and understanding that isn't there with tai: qrow says stuff like "okay, so you're crazy" and "here i thought your friend was the emo one" but what he means is "hey, i know something's really bugging you, tell me about it," and yang picks up what he's putting down.

it's akin to how ruby goes "did you miss me? DID YOU MISS ME??" and qrow's like "nope" and they both laugh. or the back-and-forth ribbing between him and the girls in 3.4. there's this layer of mild ironic meanness in the way qrow converses with his nieces that all of them are fluent in, and in this scene he's using that mode to signal that "crazy" is not off-limits, that it's okay to talk about openly.

crucially, there's a code-switch in the middle of the conversation: as soon as yang gets real and says "i saw my mom," qrow reflects that seriousness back to her. you're not crazy, that was your mom, she found me afterward and told me about it. it was real. you're okay. qrow's ability to do that—to shift into a more serious mode when irony isn't appropriate—is why yang can have this rapport with him that she doesn't have with tai, because tai isn't... being ironic when he says mean or dismissive things to her.

anyway, qrow passes on raven's terrible message and then kind of annotates it: "raven's got an interesting way of looking at the world that i don't particularly agree with, and she's dangerous." (which is a very diplomatic way of saying he thinks raven is full of shit. lol.) but then he connects this whole conversation about raven back to what happened after the match: "you're a tough egg, kiddo. don't let this tournament thing getcha down. you had a slip-up; sometimes bad things just happen."

implicitly: yang isn't crazy. what she saw on the train was real, a product of raven's personality and her semblance. sometimes bad things just happen. qrow believes that yang had the experience she says she did when she punched mercury. he doesn't know why she had that experience—yang doesn't either!—but he knows she isn't just "crazy." sometimes things that seem crazy are actually real.

remember what he tells the girls in 3.4? "you may be acting like huntresses, but you're not thinking like one." same thing here. he's telling yang, hey, you're not crazy, you know what you saw, but you don't know what or who caused you to see it. "you cut off the head of the king taijitu, but now the second head's calling the shots."

hint, hint.

it's subtler than the hints qrow drops for ruby in 3.12, but very much in the same vein, and yang is plenty smart enough to figure it out. she might... not have? in the couple of hours between this conversation and everything going to straight to hell, but if they'd had literally just one more day, just long enough for the wheels turning in yang's head to click together with what ruby heard from velvet about coco hallucinating during her and yatsu's 2v2 against emerald and mercury, she would've had it.

more... generally, i've never gotten the sense that qrow projects raven's flaws onto yang in the way that tai does; qrow is definitely a lot closer with ruby than yang, but i think that has less to do with favoritism on qrow's part than it does ruby thinking he's like the COOLEST uncle ever and wanting to use a scythe like he does.

'cause like, qrow isn't their parent, he doesn't live with them, he's not responsible for raising these kids like their dad is, so while he obviously did contribute to fucking them both up because: alcoholic, ultimately there just isn't the same degree of betrayal or emotional abandonment; he's not their dad. both times yang talks in detail about her childhood, it's "my mom left, ruby's mom left, tai wasn't really around, ruby couldn't even talk, i was alone"—she doesn't mention qrow. there isn't that deep hurt, that feeling that qrow is someone who left.

when he isn't drunk, yang seems to feel pretty okay around him, and qrow likewise treats her... honestly a lot better than tai does:

he stops by their dorm in v3 to hang out with both his nieces; yang is fully in sister mode—cheers for ruby to beat him until ruby loses, immediately shoves her out of the way like "my turn!! >:D"—and qrow ribs them both, takes ribbing from both of them in good humor, tells both of them "you two are gonna go far."

qrow nicknames to show affection; ruby is "pipsqueak," yang gets "firecracker."

we only see qrow's goodbye to ruby, but in 5.4 yang indicates that qrow came to talk to her before he left, too. she also has complete trust that he's keeping the promise he made to look after ruby.

yang, as noted, opens up to him about seeing her mom; she's also shocked that he's still in contact with raven and indignant that he didn't tell her sooner, but—unlike with tai—she doesn't seem surprised that qrow is willing to talk about raven in general.

which tracks with what tai says in 4.11: "despite asking him numerous times not to, i know qrow told you where you're mother's been at these days"—meaning, this was a point of contention between him and qrow. behind the scenes, while tai refused to discuss raven at all, qrow was going okay well, let me tell her then, she deserves to know. and then ultimately he just bit the bullet and told her behind tai's back. i wouldn't be surprised if it turned out qrow had been straight with yang that her dad wanted to be the one to tell her the important stuff, and he wanted to be respectful of that, but raven wasn't an off-limits topic.

general contrast between yang-tai and yang-qrow dynamics; for example both of them say almost verbatim "you've got a long way to go before you're ready for the real world" (3.4/4.4). from tai it's belittling, he's insulting her; from qrow, it's meant to encourage, it's "remember you're still new to this, you'll make mistakes, just keep learning, keep trying." (rwby does stuff like this all the time, refracting an idea in different directions to highlight contrasts between characters; ozpin's advice to ruby vs port's advice to weiss is another example.)

a lot of qrow's resentment toward raven is centered on her abandonment of yang: "did you know yang lost her arm? [...] rhetorical question, i know you know. it's just obnoxious that you'd bring up family and then carry on like your own daughter doesn't exist. [raven: "i saved her."] once. because that was your rule, right? real mom of the year material, sis." like he is PISSED on yang's behalf that raven won't even try.

my impression is that qrow—although a) often away on long missions in far away places and b) an alcoholic who sometimes got blind drunk and became a burden yang and ruby needed to take care of—when he did manage to be there, made a serious effort to connect with both of them. he ended up being closer to ruby bc she wanted to learn scythe-wielding, but i do think qrow would've trained yang too (or instead) if the girls had different combat interests.

and while his relationship with ruby has a mentorish aspect, i don't get the sense either of the girls see him as a parental figure: he wasn't part of their household, he traveled a lot, his alcoholism in combination with tai's neglect eroded the adult-child boundaries because they had to be responsible for him as often as the reverse. he's a friend who also happens to be related to them. and that's especially true for yang, because he wasn't her teacher.

(i know it's a... pretty common headcanon / fanon that qrow lived with them, but i really don't think that's supported by the text? whenever ruby or yang look back on their childhoods, the family unit is always them + tai, and qrow isolates himself out of fear that his semblance will injure those he cares about. plus ozpin sending him all over the place as the one member of team strq still active. it makes way more sense to think he lived alone, and visited when he had the chance. which is the main reason i'm WAY softer on him than on tai, 'cause qrow wasn't in a caretaker/parent role; at most he was an occasional babysitter. so while his incidents of turning up drunk on the doorstep contributed to the harm... it's like, it would absolutely have been better for them if qrow were sober, but that wouldn't have changed anything about their home life. they'd just have somewhat easier relationships with qrow.)

TO WRAP THIS BACK AROUND TO THE QUESTION, tai is unfairly judgmental and harsh with yang bc he projects his idea of her mom onto her; yang also has a better relationship with her mom's brother than she does with her dad. how do these two dynamics interact? how does yang feel about hearing from tai that she's too branwen, so to speak, while also getting along better with the branwen side of her family? how might that fuel her desire to find raven?

if her uncle treats her better than tai does, then... maybe her mom would too, if only yang could reach her?—obviously it's not rational, but like. i don't think five year old yang put her baby sister in a wagon and ran away to find her mom because she thought she would ask "why did you leave me?" and then get her answer and go home. as yang grew older and developed a more realistic perspective it shifted to "i just need to know why she left" and she projects that backward onto herself as a child, but at the time what she wanted, what she was looking for, was someone who would take care of them.

[kustas]

really curious what you mean about custas’ identity (is not familiar with dunmeshi discourse)

the TLDR would be: headcanon isn't canon, character inspiration isn't canon, you can't assign blorbo from fantasy comic book with an entire closed culture without thinking it through, which the author did not

What I mean is people self convincing themselves that forms of minority representation in canon when it isn't. I've seen this in dungeon meshi regarding character sexuality but it's a manga with indepth character writing that already depicts these elements and the fans just... collectively gaslit themselves into selectively deciding canon stuff doesn't exist and making up new things? likely as informed copium because the sad truth is that gay rep in the manga is questionable at best.

and im seeing the attitude come up more with witch hat, to their credit it is absolutely a series concerned with positive media representation of minority groups when DM isn't, but fans are still out there repeating information that's straight up wrong. regarding custas: he's a brown kid and a traveller, that part is canon and undeniable. the author happened to mention this last year in a fan interview that his writing was inspired by minority groups including the Romani, which is lovely confirmation but kind of a "yeah, duh" when you see the character. and thus the telephone game began, from "he's rroma" (not exactly) to it including his father (never mentioned in the first place) and people are using that to advertise for the series nowadays on top of the usual telephone results of "my favorite ship means gay representation is real"

ultimately i should touch grass and this isn't a real problem but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth, these are minority groups that have historically and still today faced extreme discrimination because of how real life society hates them and I believe if wha was indeed true to how people describe it it would be a bigger deal, bc wha is not a subtle series regarding how it mentions discrimination. it's also giving credit where credit isn't due to me. finally and this might be my hot take but as a fantasy fan i am really not fond of the "fantasy as a metaphor" regarding topics that to this day get people singled out and killed so I am pretty thankful the series "only" (in quotes bc i believe that what wha Does actually do is wonderful) uses real life inspiration for a lot of harsh topics and touches on RL stuff carefully and deliberately.

coding is a muddy thing

[mosspace]

Horus Rising screenshots with bad quality and commentary below because I need to scream (warning: Spoilers) (Part 1 of ???)

I will make a second part bc I just have too many screenshots and the limit for images is 10

So, I finally gave the books a try, and I liked it. A lot.

With the grimdark aspect that sorrounds the franchise, I expected it to be a lot darker? The funny moments were very much welcomed, though, both as a rest from the darker stuff and as a way to further characterise the relationships between characters; I feel that both the action and fun were balanced very well by the author

I've seen some people call Loken 'bland'/'boring', but he didn't seem so to me. I mean, I guess I can see why they would say that, but it wasn't too much of a dealbreaker for me. I quite liked him as a protagonist, actually

As for the remembrerancers (i def butchered that up), I was a little worried at the start, but they quickly became one of my fave aspects of the story. Who better to criticize, analyze and question society than artists? I really liked having a more relatable point of view from them as the most 'normal-ish' humans

The book also gave me in-universe answers for some of the questions I had regarding the way Imperium handled it self in regards to beliefs, the Crusade and the Emperor (beloved by all) himself

Other things I liked: the freaking Mournival welcoming ritual?? Omg??? (what if we were both astartes, sworn brothers-in arms, and we held hands under the full moon as we made our sacred pledges? What then?); Horus calling Aximand 'little one', Tarik calling Garviel/Loken 'Garvi' (so cute); all the ominous sentences referring to the Heresy; all the moments were the characters almost understood how wrong the Imperium is, only to double down further on their beliefs that they are right because they 'know they are right' ughh, the tragedy of it all

Now, unto the screenshots:

I loooved every instance of Horus being a little manipulative mastermind. Honestly, he's written so likable, so charming, it does a good job of showing why he was so loved by most people

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This? This dialogue? Absolutely gutted me

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'There is no music here' :'(

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Oh my goddddd

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OH MY GODDD (and this followed by Loken stopping Jubal's body from falling, desperately calling his surviving brothers for help>>>>)

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I mean, they are those things in the sense of the word, as much as they actually and literally are those things by definition. I was wondering why, if they denounced any reference to mysticism and the magical, they still used words with those connotations. I feel this answer makes a lot of sense

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... Still, I don't think hiding it is the best solution

I really like how they keep talking about this glorious 'truth' given to them by the Emperor, whilst actively lying. I live for all these little moments of hypocrisy

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Ok, this made me a lil sad ngl:(

He loves Emps so much, sees him as a father, when Emps doesn't really see him as more than a tool most of the time (at least to my understanding)

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