#i am almost certainly not going to have the time to do that

[offtorivendell]

Why is Azriel so "different"?On Dusk, Hel and the Valg...

This post was written for @azrielappreciationweek Days 1, 2 and 3: Cool Quiet, Scarred and Belonging

Disclaimer: the following is only a theory which, as usual, makes no claim of being canon. It's LONG, even though I've almost certainly forgotten to add some thoughts I've misplaced. I'm sorry, but by the time I realised how stupidly long it would be I cbf splitting it up into smaller posts, so... no offence taken if this gets chucked into the too-hard basket.

My thanks, as always, go out to the lovely @wingedblooms, @ladynightcourt3 (the queen of quotes), @silverlinedeyes, @psychologynerd, @elrieldreamer, @cassianfanclub @shitwillnotbegiven, and anyone else who has helped me process my thoughts along the way. 💜

Spoilers: the entire Maasverse is referenced, reader beware.

One theory that seems to be (mostly lol) accepted across the fandom is that Azriel, the shadowsinger of Prythian's Night Court, may be more than simply Illyrian. Back in 2021, before reading the Crescent City series, I had wondered whether he might be descended from the Dusk Court (here, here and here), but after HOSAB was published - and then HOFAS especially - I had other thoughts. This post is just incredibly fucking belated.

Firstly, what evidence do we have to suggest that Azriel is different?

Quite a bit, in my opinion. From the moment Feyre met Azriel back in ACOMAF, there have been hints that, even beyond his seven siphons, he is not your average Illyrian warrior. That he may, in fact, be significantly different even to Rhys and Cassian.

As we can see, Feyre felt his otherness right from the start.

But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Now, there's a lot to unpack in that brief passage - and I aim to do so over the course of this post - but let's begin with Feyre's instinct to ward against Azriel; a reaction that was unique to him. This was followed by further suggestions that Azriel is not purely Illyrian throughout the rest of the series, some of which are quite blatant.

Cassian finished his laughing. “Illyrians are certainly not High Fae. And glad of it.” He hooked his black hair behind an ear—rounded; as mine had once been. “And we’re not lesser faeries, though some try to call us that. We’re just—Illyrians. Considered expendable aerial cavalry for the Night Court at the best of times, mindless soldier grunts at the worst.” “Which is most of the time,” Azriel clarified. I didn’t dare ask if those shadows were a part of being Illyrian, too. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

"You'll get used to it—the wording," he said. Clinging to him so tightly, I couldn't see his face. I watched the light shift inside the sapphire Siphon instead, as if it were the great eye of some half-slumbering beast from a frozen wasteland. "I don't really know where I fit in any- more," I admitted, perhaps only because the wind was screeching around us and Rhys had already winnowed ahead to where Cassian's dark form flew-beyond the wall. "I've been alive almost five and a half centuries, and I'm not sure of that, either," Azriel said. - ACOMAF, chapter 22

Azriel just shook his head. "I'll go. The Prison sentries know me—what I am." - ACOWAR, chapter 16

I was rasping for breath, sweat sliding down my spine, by the time he said, "Good." He cleared his throat. "I know you're not Illyrian, but amongst their kind, it is considered inappropriate to touch someone's wings without permission. Especially females." Their kind. Not his. - ACOWAR, chapter 19

One glance at Azriel’s unreadable face and I added, “Don’t bother to answer that.” A corner of Azriel’s mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck like living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead, he had learned its language. Though the cobalt Siphons were proof that his Illyrian heritage ran true, even the rich lore of that warrior-people, my warrior-people, did not have an explanation for where the shadowsinger gifts came from. They certainly weren’t connected to the Siphons, to the raw killing power most Illyrians possessed and channeled through the stones to keep from destroying everything in its path. The bearer included. - ACOFAS, chapter 7

"Azriel can winnow all the time, though." "Az is different. In a lot of ways." His tone didn't invite further questioning. - ACOSF, chapter 16

He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. - ACOSF, Azriel's Bonus Chapter

There was even a hint or two about Azriel's possible Starborn heritage in HOFAS, thanks to Bryce.

“What have you done?” Azriel rasped, and Bryce twisted to find him on his feet, wings tucked in, Nesta leaning against him as if wounded, Ataraxia dangling from her grip. The male now held the Starsword at the ready, Truth-Teller gripped in his other hand. He must have had some sort of Starborn blood in him, then—a distant ancestor, maybe. Or maybe his possession of the knife somehow allowed him to also bear the Starsword. - HOFAS, chapter 24

Obviously Azriel is still Illyrian, I don't know anybody who disputes that in a non-crack theory manner, but it seems likely to me that he's also something more¹. All of the above hints about his shadowsinging powers, his own feelings of otherness to his people, and - potentially² - his ability to smell the Elucien bond as Lanthys did Nessian, the fact that we have yet to meet his mother? Is it simple coincidence, or intentional hints?

I could definitely be wrong, but I'm choosing the latter.

¹ "More" as in quantity, not quality. This is by no means a diss at Cassian or Rhys.

² To be fair, the true mate theory could also explain this; by the point in ACOSF that Nesta and Cassian met Lanthys they'd already been intimate, even if their bond was not yet "accepted."

The Dusk Court

As mentioned above - here, here, and here - I've been wondering for a long while if Azriel could be connected to the Dusk Court (or what remains of it).

I'd even started a meta on it, one of many that I lost track of and then never got around to finishing because my magpie brain latched onto other shiny theories or books, but the gist of it was that Azriel's mother (or, more likely imo, a distant female relative, such as his grandmother) hailed from Dusk. Given I thought the Hewn City/Court of Nightmares was the Dusk Court acting as a sub court to the Night Court, I had written an entire spiel about how one of Lord Thanatos' troublesome daughters may have been this female ancestor who fell in love and had a child with an Illyrian warrior who died prematurely, leaving her with nothing (not even a family who would take her back, because Hewn City bullshit amiright? Especially if she was unable to have further children after birthing a winged child), and that we hadn't met Azriel's mother yet because she might have spoilery traits like small/different wings or her own shadows. I went a lot deeper - funnily enough, my thoughts actually mirrored quite a bit of Hunt's mother's relationship with the father he never met (HOFAS, chapter 61) - and even wondered if this was partly why the Darkbringers and Illyrian soldiers disliked each other in ACOWAR... but those are the basics.

HOSAB then gave a different sort of importance to Lord Thanatos, but I don't think it necessarily precludes my original theory being right somehow, especially as "daughter" might be used as loosely as "son" was by Apollion in HOFAS, to mean that some power was donated for their creation. Even now, I still suspect Azriel may have hidden - or even corrupted - Starborn powers, which should indicate some minimum level of Dusk-based heritage.

While we now know the Made blades can be wielded by the Starborn - descendants of the Dusk Court - in addition to Made faeries such as Elain Archeron, I always suspected that Truth-Teller was much more important than we knew from the start (and I know I'm not the only one intrigued by the blade). After reading Crescent City, the parallels between Azriel's and Ruhn's almost guardianship of their respective magical blades until a female character³ came along to activate their power seemed to be significant (though of course with Elain it's still hypothetical, as we haven't had her POV yet).

³ Bryce may have been Theia's magical heir (though I suspect it may be through Ember rather than Einar), but she lives on Midgard - an entirely different planet. While the Archeron sisters may (or may not) spring from more humble beginnings than Fae royalty, imo they do share some notable parallels with Bryce and Theia herself. I discussed those in this post after HOSAB came out; since reading HOFAS, I suspect the Archeron sisters will grow to, as a unit, replace the Starborn magic that Bryce took, leaving Prythian unguarded. The power of three will set the land free, so to speak.

But back to Azriel. We know that Ruhn Danaan - the shadowy male who claimed the Starsword/Gwydion until a female associated with light came along and was able to activate its magic... sounds familiar, huh - is a Starborn prince who can wield shadows, and has some powers that appear similar to Az (shadow walking and mind speaking), though imo it may have been suggested that his light - aka Pelias' light - might be considered corrupt by Rigelus (while posing as Aidas).

Is Azriel's light magic corrupted as well?

“You knew the last Starborn Queen?” Ruhn asked. Starlight glinted among Ruhn’s shadows, shimmering down the length of his sword. Aidas’s eyes now flared with a strange sort of rage as he looked upon the Fae Prince. “I did. And I knew the sniveling prince whose light you bear.” A ripple of stunned silence went through the room. [...] “Theia was dead by that point,” Aidas said flatly. “Pelias slew her.” He nodded to the Starsword in Ruhn’s hand. “And stole her blade when he’d finished.” He snarled. “That sword belongs to Theia’s female heir. Not the male offspring who corrupted her line.” - HOSAB, chapter 15

Morven’s shadows gathered at his fingers, his shoulders. Wild, angry shadows that Ruhn’s own balked to meet. They seemed corrupted somehow, like those Seamus and Duncan wielded mentally. “You are Starborn. You have an obligation to our people.” - HOFAS, chapter 51

Further, Cormac and Morven Donnall are both Starborn and Avallen faeries, with "wild" shadows that seem to more closely mirror Azriel's own.

“How the hell did you manage to survive this long without anyone killing you?” Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Azriel’s brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. As if he were the dark hive from which they flew and returned. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him. Most of the camp women had ducked into their homes when he’d appeared. - ACOWAR, chapter 18

She set down her teacup. “Is that a threat, Shadowsinger?” Cassian took a long drink from his own tea. Drained it to the dregs. Azriel said coolly, “I don’t need to resort to threats.” The shadows coiled around him, snakes ready to strike. - ACOSF, chapter 8

Azriel nodded his agreement, his shadows twining around him. Most of the camp women had ducked into their homes when he’d appeared. - ACOFAS, chapter 26

The thought was … not comforting. But neither were the shadows that curled like snakes around the king, wild and twining. A coiled crown of them sat atop Morven’s dark head, blacker than the Pit. - HOFAS, chapter 47

Without delving into the "why" of their wildness - was it the magical imbalance of the chained land that led to their wilder shadows, their prolonged proximity to an incredibly strong thin place (the obsidian or mists), was their line intentionally corrupted by a high power as Prythian's Cauldron was, or do they potentially have ties to demons, or the princes of Hel themselves? - it's not implausible to suggest that Azriel could also hail from the Starborn Fae of the Dusk Court, same as Rhys.

That being said, I think Hel will also play a part...

Prince of Hel

As I suggested in this reblog of @nikethestatue's post from way back when, I've been eyeing off one Lord Thanatos of the Hewn City (and his wayward, troublesome daughters) for a while. So when SJM dropped the bomb in HOSAB that the Prince of the Ravine, the soul eater, was called Thanatos, I was basically shaking my feet and screaming internally.

Because it had to be the same being, right? Right?!

I know I'm not the only one who noted the use of Thanatos' name, as others across the fandom have since suggested that Azriel may be related to the princes of Hel, or even be one himself... and as I've said before, I would not be surprised if this was the case (actually, at this point I would be shocked if Azriel wasn't related to the Hel Princes in some way, especially after what we learnt of Hunt's ancestry in HOFAS).

“Fine,” Hunt cut in. “Great, we’re protected.” He eyed the Prince of the Pit. His very bones shook, but he forced himself past his fear, his dread. “What the fuck did you mean by calling me son?” Thanatos scoffed. “You are no son of his.” He yanked off his war helmet, cradling it under an arm. “If anything, you are mine.” Hunt’s knees buckled. “What?” [...] “Because the Princes of Hel cannot be contained by the black crowns. The Asteri learned that—it was their downfall. As you were made by Hel’s princes, it should not be able to hold you.” Made by them? By these fuckers? - HOFAS, chapter 59

“Can we please rewind for a moment?” Bryce cut in. “You guys made the thunderbirds to complement my power—in case I never got the sword and knife, and if I ever needed a boost to open the Rift. But when they were hunted down, you … made Hunt, and then I was born …” “Athalar was already enslaved by then,” Aidas said, “but we kept a close watch.” Apollion nodded to Hunt. “Why do you think you’re so adept at hunting demons? It’s in your blood—part of me is in your blood.” Nausea clawed its way up Hunt’s throat. The thought of owing anything at all to the Prince of the Pit … “Just as he gave over some of his essence for the kristallos,” Thanatos said, “so he gave something to me for you. His Helfire.” “Helfire?” Bryce demanded. “The lightning,” Thanatos said, waving an irritated hand. “Capable of killing almost anything. Even an Asteri.” “That’s how you killed Sirius?” Bryce asked. “With your … Helfire?” “Yes,” Apollion said, then added to Hunt, “Your name was a nod to that, whispered in your mother’s ear as you were born. Orion … master of Sirius.” “Clever,” Hunt snapped, then demanded, “Wait—my lightning can kill the Asteri?” Hope bloomed, bright and beautiful in his chest. “No,” Apollion said. “It is … diluted from my own. It could harm them, but not kill them. I believe your mother’s angelic blood tempered my power.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

“Your father knew your mother briefly,” Aidas said. “And he knew having a partner would help lift her from her poverty. He had every intention of staying. Of leaving behind his life and raising you in secret.” Hunt could barely ask, “What happened?” “The mystics told Rigelus of your father’s connection to us. They didn’t discover everything—nothing about you or your mother. Only that he had been speaking to us. Rigelus had him brought in, tortured, and executed.” Hunt’s heart stalled. “He didn’t break,” Apollion said with something like kindness. “He never mentioned your mother, or her pregnancy. The Asteri never knew you were tied to him in any way.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

Bryce squeezed his knee, her hand so warm—or was he unnaturally cold? “Okay, so Hunt was made to be a backup battery for me—” “Can I do the same for Ruhn, then?” Hunt interrupted. “No,” Thanatos said. “The prince’s light, his affinity for these thin places, isn’t strong enough. Not like hers.” Hunt gripped Bryce’s hand atop his knee. “Is it in my DNA that Bryce and I are mates? Was that engineered, too?” “No,” Aidas said quickly, “that was never intended. I think that was left to higher powers. Whatever they may be.” Hunt turned to Bryce and found nothing but love in her eyes. He couldn’t stand it. Horror cracked through him, as chilled as hoarfrost. He’d been created by these males to give and to suffer, and where the fuck did that leave him? Who the fuck did that make him? “Okay,” Bryce said, “Helfire and starfire: a potent combination. But Helena left all this shit to help end this conflict. It sounds like you guys just want me to open a gods-damned door for you to come in and save the day instead.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

Thanatos used some of Apollion's helfire (lightning) to create Hunt as a weapon for Bryce, so it stands to reason that he may have done something similar in the Hewn City/Court of Nightmares that eventually resulted in Azriel, possibly with a different Prince of Hel - was it Koschei, or even himself - leaving "poisoned honey" on Prythian in case the Daglan/Asteri ever regained power? Feyre once referred to Azriel as a "dark hive," and we now know that he often helped Cassian to hunt down monstrous creatures like Blue Annis... could this be why? Does he have a natural talent for it, like Hunt? Was Az also created for a specific purpose?

I've been on the "Azriel and Elain are carranam" train from the time I joined the fandom, and since then I really do think that the three brothers and three sisters will act as paired conduits to save their world, as I mentioned in my third note above. In addition to the parallels I've noted between the Archeron sisters and Bryce (and Theia), Elain and Az shared a "charged" glance in ACOSF.

Nesta shook her head slowly, not understanding. Elain just linked her arm through Nesta’s and led her toward the family room, where Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he’d heard Elain’s sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. “I was just checking on dessert,” Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger’s stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room. - ACOSF, chapter 58

The very first book of the ACOTAR series confirmed that magic can appear as a charge in Prythian...

I opened my mouth to again ask him for his name, but a growl of annoyance rippled out of him. I didn’t have a chance to struggle, to fight back, when a charged, metallic tang stung my nose. Exhaustion slammed down upon me and blackness swallowed me whole. [...] I awoke with a jolt atop the horse, secured by invisible bonds. The sun was already high. Magic—that’s what the tang had been, what was keeping my limbs tucked in tight, preventing me from going for my knife. - ACOTAR, chapter 5

And then HOFAS gave us this - Azriel learning that he can charge up a Starborn Fae. A point that was so important to make that SJM ignored - or had reasons we are yet to learn - the fact that Azriel could have winnowed the three of them across the gap himself. Curious, given how she made doubly sure we knew how "different" Az was in ACOSF.

But Bryce frowned deeply at Azriel. “Do you ever use that power to, uh, charge people up?” “Charge?” “Fuel. Um. Give your power to someone else to help their power.” “Are you implying that I could do such a thing to you?” “I’m pretty sure the concept of a battery won’t have much meaning here, but yeah. My magic can be amplified by someone else’s power.” The other untranslatable word—battery—lay heavy on her tongue. But Nesta looked her over. “For what purpose?” “So I can teleport.” Another word that didn’t translate. “Winnow.” She pointed to the other side of the divide. “I could winnow us over there.” - HOFAS, chapter 16

Obviously there's always the possibility that SJM simply wrote that Azriel didn't winnow because A) he didn't want to expose any further facets of his magic unnecessarily to a Fae he had no reason to trust, or B) he wanted to see what Bryce could do, but what if it was C) that he lacked the strength to winnow at the time, as @ladynightcourt3 has so brilliantly thought? Because potentially, if light can blind an Oracle - one who may or may not use the murky realm of the Void to See - then there's a possibility that their growing proximity to the power chained deep in the land, or even Vesperus herself, may have made Azriel less able to see where he was going with his shadows to safely winnow them. Or was it that, similarly to whatever bond that exists between Elain and Lucien becoming too much for Azriel to bear, maybe the singing between Gwydion and Truth-Teller was distracting him?

As an aside, furthering the parallel between Hunt and Bryce that I noted earlier, I think the following passages support the idea that Azriel may be able to charge Elain, or that Elain can charge him as well, in addition to suggesting that he may be able to sense minds, or enter some that are more susceptible.

And what Hybern would do to Elain, might already be doing— From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” - ACOWAR, chapter 64

Azriel slid back the curtain— Elain was in her nightgown. Gagged, wrists wrapped in steel that glowed violet. Her eyes went wide as she saw us—Azriel and me— I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her. I kept up my litany of praying, beseeching the Cauldron to make my womb fruitful, on and on— Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head. “Hurry,” I whispered, then resumed my prayer. We had until it ran out. - ACOWAR, chapter 65

Azriel’s power gave out on the outskirts of our camp. The girl, despite the burns and lashings on her moon-white skin, was able to walk. The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time—a trickle compared to the torrent that should be leaking out. Contained only by the patches of power he’d slapped on it. Help—he needed a healer immediately. - ACOWAR, chapter 65

Azriel didn’t give Rhys a chance to reconsider. Didn’t say good-bye to any of us. He shot into the sky, those still-healing wings beating hard as they carried him toward the scrambling northern flank. - ACOWAR, chapter 71

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke.” He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. - ACOSF, Azriel's bonus chapter

Bryce squeezed his knee, her hand so warm—or was he unnaturally cold? “Okay, so Hunt was made to be a backup battery for me—” “Can I do the same for Ruhn, then?” Hunt interrupted. “No,” Thanatos said. “The prince’s light, his affinity for these thin places, isn’t strong enough. Not like hers.” - HOFAS, chapter 61

We know that Elain likely shares that strong affinity for thin places, as may Az. Feyre mentioned the gray light of morning, mist around their ankles. Does this make them the ideal conduits for each other, as Hunt and Bryce were? As Feyre and Rhys - and, I suspect, Nesta and Cassian - are? Are they all meant to be "weapons" against a long, deeply sleeping foe?

Finally, let's revisit the first passage I mentioned at the top of this post, when Feyre first met Azriel:

But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Hunt stilled. There was only one being whose name was not uttered in Midgard. The Prince of the Pit. Apollion. His blood chilled. This was a fucked-up, weird-ass dream, no doubt caused by Quinlan literally blowing his mind into smithereens— “It is no dream.” The seventh and most lethal of the demon princes of Hel was in his mind— “I am not in your mind, though your thoughts ripple toward me like your world’s radio waves. You and I are in a place between our worlds. A pocket-realm, as it were.” “What do you want?” Hunt’s voice held steady, but—fuck. He needed to get out of here, to find some way back to Bryce. If the Prince of the Pit could get into Hunt’s mind, then— “If I went into her mind, my brother would be very angry with me. Again.” Hunt could have sworn he heard a smile in the prince’s voice. “You certainly worry a great deal about a female who is far safer than you at the moment.” - HOSAB, chapter 21

“During my time with Theia, Helena was a quiet girl, but she always listened.” “You spoke too much,” Thanatos snapped. Aidas ignored him. “Helena learned black salt would allow her to commune with us while protecting her mind and her soul.” - HOFAS, chapter 59

Given the princes of Hel were fathered by the Void - Apollion, the Prince of the Pit, said he resides in true darkness and has the ability to enter minds - and mothered by Chaos (who is possibly Wyrd?⁴), that they are attracted by obsidian (the material from which Truth-Teller's hilt is made), who may or may not use wyrdmarks that might match the runes on Truth-Teller's hilt (post on this to come), who appear to be able to use a black salt-induced dream state to communicate across worlds with their minds... it seems a little more than coincidental to me that Feyre would think to protect her mind from Azriel.

⁴ A personal crack theory that I'd love to be true - I think the eight pointed star may be Urd/Wyrd's or Chaos' symbol: a Chaos star. @wingedblooms has discussed Wyrd and Chaos here and here.

I once noted Azriel's similarities to Koschei, who can send his whispers on the wind, twisting distant minds to do his bidding. If Koschei is a prince of Hel - the sixth prince, of the Abyss? - could he have contributed towards Azriel's creation, either directly, or through the making of a female ancestor? Azriel has the ability to speak the language of shadow, wind and stone, which could plausibly tie in with Koschei as a hell prince: void, wind and obsidian. Or if it was Thanatos - the eater of souls - does this affect Azriel's ability to sense others around him, as Rhys once suggested? We know he's capable of using his shadows to read people. Was Azriel's existence, intentional or not, a secret like Hunt's?

Or to be completely cracked, is Azriel actually the heir to a currently empty throne in Hel?

Elide asked Lorcan, “Do you—do you feel any different?” The lack of the gods who’d watched over them. Lorcan peered up at the trees overhead, as if reading the answer in their entangled branches. As if searching for Hellas there. “No,” he admitted. “What does it mean,” Gavriel mused, the first rays of sun beginning to gild his golden hair, “for them to be gone? Is there a hell-realm whose throne now sits vacant?” “It’s too early for that sort of philosophical bullshit,” Fenrys said... - KOA, chapter 101

Whatever is going on here, please consider me still all aboard the Azriel is related to the Princes of Hel train until told otherwise by SJM. Choo Choo!

The Valg

Moving on from the princes of Hel, many of the fandom - myself included - are desperate to know exactly how Aidas and his brothers may be related to the Valg, a race of demons we met in SJM's 'Throne of Glass' series. Are they the same as, or simply related to each other? Did Hel's princes - or possibly Void and Chaos - create the Valg as well, or did the Valg just evolve naturally on the planet that is Hel, eventually turning it cold and barren? I know some in the fandom have drawn parallels between Rhys and Maeve, and theorised that he may be partly Valg, which would be such a twist if true! I'd love it.

But more than all of that, I want to know what Azriel may have to do with the Valg. Because in addition to my suspicions that the King of Hybern may have been infected by a Valg/Valg-type being (and that Elain assassinating him with a sunlight charged Truth-Teller was akin to Yrene healing Erawan out of existence), I have been wondering about Azriel and his shadows for years. I know I've suggested that Koschei could be a prince of Hel, but I also think there's a chance he could be Valg. I outlined in this post, where I wondered if Koschei was once known as Fionn - yes, I can see there's a pattern forming here, thanks 😂 - if he had once loaned magic to the King of Hybern, who had "hateful black eyes" and a "galaxy" in his palm, in order for Hybern to be powerful enough to orchestrate a scenario that Koschei was unable to himself, given he's trapped at his lake; considering this possibility in the context of the Valg existing in Prythian, and that Koschei may be one of them, it could mean that Koschei himself, or a loyal Valg prince, was possessing Hybern's king; a pawn until he was no longer required.

As I mentioned earlier, there are significant parallels between Azriel and Koschei that should not be ignored, especially if Koschei ends up being his magical ancestor in some way. In addition to this, Azriel's history and habits are intriguing when laid out next to what we know of the Valg as a species. Although, given the similarities between the Princes of Hel and the Valg, much of the following could indicate some sort of link to either species (that's assuming they're actually different, of course).

The Valg's true form involves a smokey, shadowy aura, while Azriel is a shadowsinger, described as a "dark hive" from where his shadows originated.

Cassian tipped back his head and laughed, a full, rich sound that bounced off the ruddy stones of the House. Azriel’s brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. As if he were the dark hive from which they flew and returned. I tried not to shudder and faced Rhys, hoping for an explanation about his spymaster’s dark gifts. Rhys’s face was blank, but his eyes were wary. Assessing. I almost demanded what the hell he was looking at, until Mor breezed onto the balcony with, “If Cassian’s howling, I hope it means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.” - ACOMAF, chapter 16

While a Valg's possession of someone's body is often confirmed through their unnaturally black eyes, it's interesting that Erilea's witches - who are half Valg and half fae - are increasingly prized the more golden their eyes are. Though Azriel's eyes are naturally hazel, a colour which often contains flecks of gold, they have notably glowed golden before. @psychologynerd and I have both discussed the possibility that Azriel could be a witch; this could be another indication of his hypothetical Valg ancestry. Edit: I just found this brilliant post, by @sak2605 which included a passage where Valg described Manon's gold eyes as the eyes of their masters!

The Valg fear fire so much they attempted to wipe out Aelin's entire flame-wielding family.

And what Hybern would do to Elain, might already be doing— From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” - ACOWAR, chapter 64

“Hello, princeling,” she said, her voice bedroom-soft and full of glorious death. “Hello, witchling,” he said. And the words were his own. For a moment he was so stunned that he blinked. He blinked. The demon inside of him recoiled, clawing at the walls of his mind. Eyes of the Valg kings, eyes of our masters, it shrieked. Do not touch that one! - QOS, chapter 58

Credit for the observation goes to @ladynightcourt3 but Azriel's brothers burnt his hands. Furthering the possibility we have discussed before, that his horrible half brothers were pouring oil onto some sort of Starborn flame that he may have unwittingly exhibited, could said Starborn magic have sparked in the first place because it was trying to purify itself from a dark, shadowy infestation taking root in the lightless dungeon? Imagine if the pain of the burns only fuelled the Valg attempting to hijack young Az! And, while Nesta thought Azriel was lying when he said his shadows don't like the flames so much because he's sat in front of the fireplace "plenty," we do know they tend to avoid the light of a different sort of flame: the sun.

I didn’t doubt his claim. And the other Illyrian … “Azriel—his hands. The scars, I mean,” I said. “Where did they come from?” Rhys was quiet a moment. Then he said too softly, “His father had two legitimate sons, both older than Azriel. Both cruel and spoiled. They learned it from their mother, the lord’s wife. For the eleven years that Azriel lived in his father’s keep, she saw to it he was kept in a cell with no window, no light. They let him out for an hour every day—let him see his mother for an hour once a week. He wasn’t permitted to train, or fly, or any of the things his Illyrian instincts roared at him to do. When he was eight, his brothers decided it’d be fun to see what happened when you mixed an Illyrian’s quick healing gifts with oil—and fire. The warriors heard Azriel’s screaming. But not quick enough to save his hands.” - ACOMAF, chapter 18

Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him. “Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. - ACOSF, chapter 58

The Valg use rings and necklaces of wyrdstone, an obsidian material, to infect a host, and in addition to Truth-Teller's hilt being made from obsidian - I've wondered before whether it could be a wyrdkey, or even possessed - Azriel was once described as not having shadows at his ear, or darkness ringing his fingers when around Elain. Does this mean that his shadows - which we now know are concentrated magic - could be infected by a Valg-type being such that they can influence his mind, and maybe even control his body? Could he become a "mindless" soldier grunt?

But the second male, the more classically beautiful of the two … Even the light shied from the elegant planes of his face. With good reason. Beautiful, but near-unreadable. He’d be the one to look out for—the knife in the dark. Indeed, an obsidian-hilted hunting knife was sheathed at his thigh, its dark scabbard embossed with a line of silver runes I’d never seen before. Rhys said, “This is Azriel—my spymaster.” Not surprising. Some buried instinct had me checking that my mental shields were intact. Just in case. - ACOMAF, chapter 16

Cassian’s dark brows narrowed. I dragged a hand over my face before going to Elain and touching her too-bony shoulder. “Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. - ACOWAR, chapter 30

The Valg princes can feed on pain and nightmares; in the ACOTAR, shadows are frequently associated with - and can even darken with - pain. Azriel was once described as having shadows and terrors over his shoulder, and there are many examples of his shadows gaining strength when he is uncomfortable or hurting, and lightening when he is happy or content. Is this because his nightmares/negative emotions are less potent and so stop fuelling the Valg he is - hypothetically - carrying around?

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. - ACOWAR, chapter 69

“Can’t sleep?” Cassian took up a fighting stance. A shadow curled around Azriel’s neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight. “Something like that,” he said, and settled into his own stance across from Cassian. Cassian let it drop, knowing Az would have told him already if he’d wanted to share what had been hounding him enough to exercise at night, rather than in the morning with them. - ACOSF, chapter 23

Speaking of, what is going on with this newly brave shadow? If Azriel or his shadows are hosts in some way for Valg-type being/s, is something causing them to gain on him? Is it his notably intensified depression from ACOSF, or the fact that he was standing above the House of Wind, the heart of which might be connected in some way to Hel? Alternatively, is it a positively denoted response to his new proximity to the Archeron sisters and their (hypothetical) different forms of Starborn light?

Could Azriel's shadows/magic simply be possessed, or are they actually a swarm of Valg in their own right, either wholly or in part, and attempting to use Azriel and Truth-Teller as a thin place to cross into Prythian? This behaviour fits with what we know of them as a species, though of course we don't know if they have the ability to do this specifically. But if Azriel does harbour some sort of Valg infestation, it becomes very interesting that his shadows respond by brightening around Feyre, who is a powerful healer, Mor - whose power is Truth (Damaris, the sword of Truth, was used in Erawan's death), and Elain⁵ (of whom many have wondered if she contains pure life or rebirth from the Cauldron, which could potentially allow her to heal - especially given the frequent use of "dawn" to describe her, another parallel with Yrene, the Torre Cesme, and even the Dawn Court in Prythian).

⁵ I'm including this information in the discussion not because of any shipping preference, but due to its relevance if Azriel really is infected by a Valg-type being.

Could this phenomenon extend beyond the fact that they, like the rest of his found family, all make Azriel feel comfortable within himself, and mirror what we learnt about Yrene⁶ and her powers? Otherwise, it would be incredibly coincidental that Elain is the sister who loves to nurture the cycle of life by gardening, who is so often described with imagery pertaining to warmth and the sun (especially at dawn), who has wielded Truth-Teller in such a way that may indicate she activated its powers and weakened a possible Valg prince, who has been strongly linked to hope, who has a different sort of strength, who has even brought a king to his knees...

⁶ @wingedblooms has previously discussed Elain's parallels with Yrene here and here; as always I suggest reading her brilliant posts!

Erawan panted as he approached. “Healer,” he breathed, his unholy power emanating from him like a black aura. She backed away a step, closer to the balcony rail. The dark king followed her, a predator closing in on long-awaited prey. “Do you know how long I have looked for you?” The wind tossed his golden hair. “Do you even know what you can do?” She hesitated, slamming into the balcony rail behind her, the drop so hideously endless. “How do you think we took the keys in the first place?” A hateful, horrible smile. “In my world, your kind exists, too. Not healers to us, but executioners. Death-maidens. Capable of healing—but also unhealing. Unbinding the very fabric of life. Of worlds.” Erawan smirked. “So we took your kind. Used them to unbind the Wyrdgate. To rip the three pieces of it from its very essence. Maeve never learned it—and never shall.” His jagged breathing deepened as he savored each word, each step closer. “It took all of them to hew the keys from the gate—every one of the healers amongst my kind. But you, with your gifts—it would only take you to do it again. And with the keys now returned to the gate …” Another smile. “Maeve thinks I left to kill you, destroy you. Your little fire-queen thought so, too. She could not conceive that I wanted to find you. Before Maeve. Before any harm could come to you. And now that I have … What fun you and I shall have, Yrene Towers.” - KOA, chapter 113

Erawan’s power swelled, but Yrene was already glowing, bright as the far-off dawn. - KOA, chapter 113

Erawan didn’t seem to know where to look. Not as Dorian sent out a punch of his healing light that knocked him off balance. Not as Lysandra leaped upon the dark king, pinning him to the stones. Not as Elide, Damaris in her hands, plunged the blade deep through Erawan’s gut, and between the stones below. Erawan screamed. But the sound was nothing compared to what came out of him as Yrene reached him, hands like burning stars, and slammed them upon his chest. The world slowed and warped. Yet Yrene was not afraid. - KOA, chapter 113

He arched, shrieking, but Damaris held him down, that ancient blade unwavering. His dark power rose, a wave to devour the world. Yrene did not let it touch her. Touch any of them. Hope. It was hope that Chaol had said she carried with her. Hope that now grew in her womb. For a better future. For a free world. - KOA, chapter 113

The gods might have been gone, Silba with them, but Yrene could have sworn she felt those warm, gentle hands guiding her. Pushing upon Erawan’s chest as he thrashed, the force of a thousand dark suns trying to rip her apart. Her power tore through them all. Tore and shredded and ripped into him, into the writhing worm that lay inside. The parasite. The infection that fed on life, on strength, on joy. Distantly, far away, Yrene knew she was incandescent with light, brighter than a noontime sun. Knew that the dark king beneath her was nothing more than a writhing pit of snakes, biting at her, trying to poison her light. - KOA, chapter 113

A thought and Yrene’s power flared brighter. Erawan screamed. The power of creation and destruction. That’s what lay within her. Life-Giver. World-Maker. Bit by bit, she burned him up. Starting at his limbs, working inward. And when her magic began to slow, Yrene held out a hand. She didn’t feel the sting of her palm cutting open. Barely felt the pressure of the callused hand that linked with hers. But when Dorian Havilliard’s raw magic barreled into her, Yrene gasped. Gasped and turned into starlight, into warmth and strength and joy. - KOA, chapter 113

Yrene’s power was life itself. Pure, undiluted life. It nearly brought Dorian to his knees as it met with his own. As he handed over his power to her, willingly and gladly, Erawan prostrate before them. Impaled. The demon king screamed. - KOA, chapter 113

I could be wrong of course! But it just seems too coincidental to me that we have all of these parallels between one of the Archeron sisters⁷ and the unassuming healer who - together with her friends - executed a Valg king in Erilea when I have suspected for a while that Azriel's shadows had been hijacked or corrupted in some manner.

⁷ I once posted, ages ago, that Azriel's shadows do not recoil from Elain Archeron, and even though I just outlined why I think she might be able to heal/purify them (assuming they're corrupted, of course), I stand by the theory. It is the corruption that would be vanishing/weakening around her and not the concentrated magic itself. And it would be an interesting tie in to the "purity language" (not my term) that SJM has used between them. That's the only shippy note I'll make here, and only because it would otherwise appear like I was contradicting my earlier self.

Anyway! If you've read this far then well done you, I'm sorry I didn't break this up into more manageable sized posts. I hope it all made sense, I did leave a bit out to try to salvage some of its atrocious length, so if I realise I forgot to tie something back around I may come back and fix it. But to sum up once more, I do think - and others have also noted - that there are many parallels between Azriel and the Starborn/Dusk Court Fae, the princes of Hel and the Valg, though one could argue that the latter two parallels extend to any void-based or demonic beings in general (which tracks if I'm correct that Illyrians can trace at least some of their origins to Hel).

Thank you for reading! 💜

[alipeeps]

Episode 26

"We've caught the demon". Pretty fucking sure you haven't cos uhhh... she literally rocked up with an umbrella for Li Lun at the end of the last episode...

Mmm and if that *isn't* Ao Yin... is it another of Wen Zongyu's demon hybrids, that's been given the shapeshifting power?

(Ooooh and if that's the case, was that even Ao Yin that they went chasing after - that Chongwu camp pointed out? Or was it just their pet shapeshifter pretending to be her? And pointing her out was designed to make the gang chase off after her. Just another part of their plan to make sure Zhuo Yichen/Demon Hunting Bureau got villified/distrusted by the populace.

Called it.

Is she sitting up waiting for Zhuo Yichen to come home?

Oh give him a hug ffs, you both need it...

Meanwhile Zhao Yuanzhou is roaming the halls like a restless, lonely ghost...

Ugh the soft almost smile as he looks as Zhao Yuanzhou...

He wasn't prepared for that. And he also didn't want that - for Zhuo Yichen to have to have the experiences that would make him understand what it has been like for Zhao Yuanzhou.

Oh dang..

My fucking heart...

When the drama straight up goes "Found family? Hell yes. Explicitly yes. Yes."

But he still wants to die of course...

"Wo men yi qi"

Scuse me, officer? I need to report a crime? Yes, this show is trying to murder me.

Oh dang, Zhao Yuanzhou is now putting his coat round every member of his polycule, one by one...

Zhao Yuanzhou you are such a git. I love you.

Yeah he did... but you cut him off.

Shitttt this is too fucking tender. This is killing me.

OMG the camera acting as her POV and her glance drifting down to his neck...

I am dead. This is my ghost typing this.

Oooh I was literally just thinking last night.. they've fixed the baize token, surely they should make it a priority to restore the wilderness?

OMG it that Bai Jiu mama coming back to life?!!!

Holy shit after all the angst and pain of the previous episode, this one is like a fucking warm bath of emotion.

(Which almost certainly means the show is going to rip my heart out again VERY soon, right? Like they're doing this just to make it all the more painful when they reach into my chest and crush my very soul...)

Oh what the fuck?!!

Don't you fucking hurt my boy Ying Lei!! Don't you DARE!!

I thought you said it wasn't easy to break a mountain god's barrier, Ying Lei?!

Oooh was that Xiao Jiu's powder that slows down/weakens demons?

So he's bought the gang some extra time by slowing Li Lun down...

Well that certainly doesn't bode well...

Ooooh so if you had one wish Yichen, what would it be? Turn yourself human again... or save Zhao Yuanzhou....

Well shit.

(However, if there is no need to pursue them into the Bingyi Clan's forbidden area, then why the fuck did you rock up to pursue them in the first place, Li Lun?)

That sounds like a REALLY FUCKING BAD IDEA, Zhuo Yichen!!

You tell him, Wen Xiao! It's found FAMILY, Zhuo Yichen, not found I'mma-nobly-do-this-shit-all-on-my-own!

Well said Sijing.

Oh fuuuuuck. Zhao Yuanzhou. You're fucking killing me here!

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh

Oh god, and the way Wen Xiao immediately looks at Zhao Yuanzhuo with hope... like please, please say yes Zhao Yuanzhou, please say you'll live...

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKK

He's spent so long seeking death... and he's willing to give that up.... because Zhuo Yuanzhou asked him to.

(Oh god, he's definitely going to die at the end, isn't he? It's going to destroy me)

Ha! Wen Xiao pulling rank on Zhuo Yichen! AND on Zhao Yuanzhou!

FUCK. FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.

Oh fuck, is it Ying Long?!!

Oh fuck, one of them has to stay there?

Oh dang, it's asking him to sacrifice one of the team...

This is Zhuo Yichen you're dealing with here. If the choice is sacrifice one of his team or die himself (due to not fixing the Cloud Light Sword), then he'll choose to die himself. Every time.

Uhoh, it's trying to freeze all of you!

Ohhh the way he just so calmly and casually wraps his hand around Zhao Yuanzhou's hand to forestall his one word spell.

What do you think he's gonna do? He's gonna choose to sacrifice himself.

What the FUCK? He has pre-written goodbye letters to Wen Xiao?!!

This episode is destroying me. They are just constantly fucking verbalising their care and feelings for one another and... how... how am I supposed to just sit here and survive that?

Yesssss Zhao Yuanzhou....

But what's the point if they both die? Or is he trying to take Zhuo Yichen's place?

The fuuuuuuck what a visual!!

And after all that... they still don't even have the way to mend the sword? And who's gonna mend it anyway?!

Holy SHIT this episode was incredible and I am emotionally exhausted.

[itendtothinkalot]

daddy's girl! (enemies to lovers)

summary: beomgyu's teasing is getting out of hand, and you're constantly left wondering what you did to deserve it. does he hate you? and if he does, why don't you hate him? your major crush on him certainly doesn't help. when he's teasing you, all you can do is stare at him, wondering if he’d ever like you back.

genre: FLUFFFFFF

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 9668

warnings: none!!!

You’ve always considered Beomgyu the single biggest annoyance in your office. He’s the type who breezes into work with a cocky grin, always a little too casual, always quick with a teasing comment that seems specifically designed to get under your skin.

You’ve somehow managed to ignore him for your first few months in the company, but recently over the year, he’s been… everywhere. Offering to help with projects he has no reason to be near, popping into your workspace with coffee, even catching your eye during meetings. 

And the worst part? Lately, instead of just being annoyed, you’ve started noticing things: the way his laughter lights up the room, or how he remembers your favorite coffee order, including yours. It’s maddening, and the more you try to brush it off, the harder it is to ignore that twist in your stomach whenever he’s around.

And...you hated every bit of it, you think. Every time he’d tease you—calling you “princess” when you were stressed, smirking when he made you flustered—it was like he was actively trying to get a rise out of you. And it worked. Every. Single. Time. 

“Boo.”

The word was barely a whisper, but it made you jump so hard that your coffee slipped right out of your hand, splattering across your dress in a warm, sticky mess. You whipped around, finding Beomgyu standing there, barely holding back a laugh as he took in the damage he’d caused. 

“Beomgyu,” you gritted out, grabbing a paper towel in a futile attempt to dab at the stain. “Do you enjoy terrorizing your coworkers, or am I just special?”

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he watched you with an amused tilt of his head. “I don’t know, maybe I just have a soft spot for you.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You rolled your eyes, fully aware of his gaze lingering on you as you tried to clean up. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, hoping he couldn’t see the faint pink on your cheeks.

He shrugged, a slow, lazy smile creeping onto his face. “You know you’d miss me if I didn’t keep things interesting.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you shot him your best death glare, then turned sharply on your heel, whipping your ponytail right in his face. A small, satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you heard him stifle a surprised cough behind you.

“Mm, raspberry,” he said suddenly, taking an exaggerated whiff. “Nice shampoo choice.”

You spun back around, crossing your arms and giving him a look that could curdle milk. “Dude!” you snapped, appalled—and maybe a little flustered. “People are staring.” You shot a glance at a few of your coworkers, who were desperately stifling their laughter.

Everyone in the office was all too familiar with the occasional “spat” between you and Beomgyu. For some reason, the two of you bickering like an old married couple had become prime entertainment around here.

He laughed, completely unbothered. “They’re just enjoying the show.” His grin didn’t waver as he looked at your coffee-stained dress with obvious amusement.

“I’m not in the mood for this,” you muttered, pushing him aside as you made a swift exit out of the pantry. “Not after you’ve essentially soaked me from head to toe with coffee.”

“Okay, okay.” He jogged up beside you, catching your arm just as you were about to storm off. Your eyes dropped to his hand on your arm, a spark of warmth rushing up to your cheeks. You’d blame it on surprise, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart picked up speed at the contact.

Beomgyu seemed to notice, too, because he let go almost immediately, a flicker of something in his expression—guilt? Amusement? You couldn’t quite tell. He recovered quickly, though, shooting you an apologetic smile that, annoyingly, looked almost… genuine.

“C’mon,” he said, voice softer than before. “I have an extra shirt at my desk. It’s clean, I promise.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unimpressed, even though you were already considering it. “And why exactly would I want to wear your shirt?”

He raised an eyebrow, smirk slipping back into place. “Because…you either wear my shirt or walk around smelling like a coffee spill all day.” His eyes glinted with a challenge.

Your glare returned, but this time, you hesitated, the discomfort of your soaked clothes settling in. With a huff, you crossed your arms. “Fine,” you relented, narrowing your eyes. 

A few minutes later, you were standing in the bathroom, staring at the shirt Beomgyu had handed you. You sighed, the absurdity of the situation slowly sinking in. There was no way you were going to wear this. You could practically feel your dignity slipping away with every second you stood there.

“Doing good in there?” Beomgyu’s voice floated in from the other side of the door, his tone teasing.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you called out, your voice dripping with disbelief. “I am not wearing this.”

From the other side, you could hear his laughter, muffled but still unmistakably filled with overconfidence. “I don’t think you have a choice.”

With a sigh, you stepped out of the bathroom, already bracing yourself for the inevitable ridicule. The moment you emerged, you looked up to see Beomgyu standing there, absolutely dying of laughter. His eyes formed perfect crescents, his whole face lit up in a way that made your heart beat faster than it did before.

It was a bright, obnoxious shade of pink, with Beomgyu’s face cartoonishly plastered on the front, a goofy grin matching the bold words scrawled across it: “Daddy’s Girl.”

Beomgyu was clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he could barely stand. "Oh my god," he gasped between breaths. "You look—" He paused, wiping tears from his eyes. "You look adorable."

You stood there, face flushed with embarrassment, glaring at him. “Why do you even have this damn shirt?”

His laughter slowly died down, but that infuriating grin of his remained. “It was a gift from Soobin,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I just never expected to see it on you. However, I do have to say…” He trailed off, his grin widening as he stepped a little closer.

“What?” You didn’t want to ask, but it was already too late.

“Well, you pull it off better than I expected. Almost like you actually are Daddy’s Girl.” His voice dropped a little as he teased the last part, his tone playful and teasing. He inched closer to you, his presence suddenly a little too close for comfort.

“Y-you’re... an asshole,” you stammered, pushing him in his chest with more force than necessary.

You walked away, but you could still hear his laughter echoing behind you, completely unbothered that he had essentially broken down all your walls.

Your cheeks were burning, but as much as you wanted to keep the little pride you had left, you couldn’t help but suppress a grin that tugged at the corners of your lips. Beomgyu might be the last person you'd ever want to give the satisfaction of seeing you flustered, but there you were, cheeks red, heart racing, and trying to hide the smile that was slowly creeping across your face.

You could hear him still chuckling in the distance, and, despite your best efforts, a part of you almost hated how contagious his laughter was.

–

The whole office seemed to be buzzing with energy as everyone gathered for the afternoon meeting. You tried to act normal, to slip into the routine of things, but the moment you walked into the conference room, you felt it—the eyes. The teasing smiles. The laughter that seemed to linger just behind every glance directed your way.

You walked to your usual spot, only to have Soobin glance over at you with a mischievous grin. "So," he started, his tone light but laced with something that made you instantly uneasy, "How does it feel to be Daddy’s Girl?" His words were casual, but there was no mistaking the gleam of amusement in his eyes.

Your face immediately flushed, and you could already feel the heat creeping up your neck. "What? No! That's not—" You stammered, but your words faltered, and before you could regain your composure, Yeonjun jumped in.

“Oh my God,” he teased, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Didn’t expect the whole ‘Daddy’s Girl’ look to work for you, but Beomgyu definitely has good taste. You make that shirt look way better than he does.”

“Seriously? He spilled coffee–” You attempted to explain, but quickly gave up, realizing no one was really listening, too busy giggling. “Beomgyu, aren’t you going to explain why I have to wear this?”

“Because you’re daddy’s girl?” He laughed, clearly enjoying the moment way too much

The entire table broke into laughter, with some of the interns joining in, adding their own playful remarks about how you and Beomgyu seemed to be “matching in more ways than one” and how “that shirt definitely tells a story.”

Trying to maintain some dignity, you crossed your arms and glared at Beomgyu, who had his usual half-smirk on his lips, though his eyes held a playful spark. “You really had to do this, didn’t you?” you muttered, barely able to mask the irritation creeping into your voice.

Beomgyu’s grin widened. "I didn’t know you’d look so cute in it," he teased, completely unbothered. "Guess I should have made you wear it sooner."

“Seriously, Beomgyu?” You shot back, rolling your eyes.

—

The next day at work, you walked into the office with a scowl, still trying to shake off the embarrassing memory from yesterday. You had barely managed to avoid Beomgyu for most of the morning, but as you rounded the corner to your desk, you found him standing there—leaning casually against your cubicle wall, as if he’d been waiting for you.

He looked up with that all-too-familiar grin, the same one that had made your cheeks flush the day before. "Well, well, if it isn’t Daddy’s Girl," he teased, his voice dripping with that playful tone you couldn't escape.

You groaned inwardly, trying to hide the heat rushing to your face. "You’re really not going to let that go, are you?"

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly, still smiling like he was having the time of his life. "I mean, it’s a pretty good look on you," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You might want to consider keeping it as your new work uniform. Though, of course, you still look good in this little office siren look you’re going for.” He looked you up and down, making you feel suddenly self-conscious.

You couldn’t help but push his face away, trying to avoid his gaze, and quickly looked away, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. "You're impossible," you muttered under your breath, focusing on anything but him.

Beomgyu paused, his eyes back on you, "You look good," he said, this time a little more serious, like he meant what he was saying.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. For a moment, the usual playful mischief was gone, and it was just him, staring at you with an intensity you hadn’t expected. You looked at him, unsure of how to respond, the tension in the air suddenly making you feel even more awkward.

"And you’re still annoying," you snapped, trying to regain control of the conversation, though your voice betrayed a hint of something softer beneath the words. You looked away, unable to meet his gaze for too long.

“Okay, okay. Look, I’m sorry if I took things a little too far yesterday,” he apologized.

You examined his face for any sign of mischief, but soon realized he was being sincere. You nodded, walking away.

—--

A few hours of working in silence passed, everyone was in their own little cubicle typing away with whatever they had to. 

Just as you were getting into the groove of things, you heard footsteps approaching. Soobin’s voice broke through the quiet office. "Hey," he greeted, leaning on your desk with a smile. "Where’s your Daddy?" He raised an eyebrow playfully, clearly teasing about Beomgyu.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden question. "My what?" you repeated, confused for a moment before you realized what he meant. "Oh, please, don’t encourage him," you groaned, rubbing your temples.

Soobin chuckled. "I mean, you are Daddy’s girl, aren’t you?" He laughed again, clearly enjoying your discomfort, making you glare at his way. "Anyway, wanna grab lunch? We haven’t done that in a while.”

“As long as you stop calling me that.” You rolled your eyes.

Soobin raised his hands defensively, smirking. “Alright, alright. Fine.”

“I just have like a couple more e-mails to sort out.”

“Got it. I’ll wait for you outside.”

You went back to typing, trying to wrap up your task quickly so Soobin wouldn’t have to wait too long. You were back to focusing, but just as you were picking up the pace, you felt hands cover your eyes from behind.

“Beomgyu,” you muttered without looking up from your screen.

Beomgyu’s voice came in soft and teasing. “How’d you know it was me?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his hands away. “You’re the only one who bothers me when I’m trying to do work.”

He chuckled, sliding into the chair next to your desk. “Guess you just know me so well, huh?” His eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” you said, shaking your head as you finished up a few last details.

There was a minute of silence before you finally did look up at him. Beomgyu hated to admit how cute you looked when you looked up at him—your eyes meeting him with that slight furrow in your brow, your hair falling perfectly around your face. It took everything in him not to smile, but he quickly masked it with his usual smirk.

“So what do you want?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished up a few last details.

“Lunch with daddy?” he replied with a casual grin, though his eyes held a glint of something that made your stomach flutter.

“Oh, I’ve already made plans with Soobin, dad” you said, not thinking much of it as you slipped your phone into your bag.

“Soobin?” Beomgyu’s voice hardened ever so slightly, but you didn’t catch the shift at first. He leaned forward in his chair, eyes narrowing just a touch.

You shrugged, focusing on gathering your things. “Yeah, just grabbing lunch. We haven’t hung out in a while.”

Beomgyu’s smirk faltered for a second, his usual confidence slipping just enough for you to notice. But before you could react, he leaned back, his demeanor slipping into something more casual, though there was still that slight edge to his words. “Right. Of course. Soobin.”

You looked at him, slightly confused by his changed demeanor. “Okay?” you replied, furrowing your eyebrows.

Beomgyu didn’t immediately respond. He just leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest as he watched you. There was a tension in the air now, something unspoken, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. His eyes, which were usually so playful, were now unreadable, like he was deep in thought.

“Yeah,” he finally said, his tone back to its usual teasing edge, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Enjoy your lunch, I guess.”

—-

During lunch, your mind replayed the previous scene with Beomgyu one too many times. Why was he so pissy after you mentioned going to lunch with Soobin? Weren’t they good friends? Why was he being so dramatic? Crazy ass, you thought to yourself.

“Are you even listening?” Soobin’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You snapped out of your thoughts. “Sorry,” you mumbled, offering him an apologetic smile.

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been acting weird since we left for lunch. Did you even hear my harrowing story about how Beomgyu’s been acting up at home?”

Right, they’re roommates, you remembered, a pang of curiosity hitting you. “Wait, what did he do now?”

Soobin chuckled, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t believe it—he’s been sulking around the apartment lately, for reasons he won’t even explain. Just moody and snippy about everything.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’m starting to think he’s hiding something.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if Beomgyu’s strange mood earlier was connected. Trying to play it cool, you asked, “Does he, like…do that often?”

“Nope, which is why it’s weird. And this all seemed to start around…” Soobin paused, giving you a suspicious look, “…around the time you two started bickering at work.”

“Oh please,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Don’t blame this on me.”

Soobin laughed, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. “Hey, I’m not saying anything,” he teased, though his smirk suggested otherwise. “Actually… there is one thing that might explain it.”

“What is it?” you asked, curiosity and a tinge of dread mixing in your voice.

“Well,” Soobin began, leaning in a little, “he was on the phone with one of our friends the other night, talking about some girl he’s into.”

Your heart did a little flip. A girl he’s into? Was it you?

“Yeah, someone from his yoga class,” Soobin added, watching you carefully.

Oh. Yoga class. You didn’t go to yoga. You felt a mix of relief and… something else you didn’t want to admit to yourself.

“Oh,” you said, trying to sound indifferent, though your disappointment was evident. “That’s… nice.”

Soobin tilted his head, amused. “You sound thrilled.”

“I am thrilled,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Glad he’s happy. Maybe then he’ll stop fucking with me.”

Soobin leaned back, watching your expression with that same knowing look. "Yeah, apparently she's, like, really flexible," he said, barely holding back a grin.

You forced a casual nod, hoping your face didn’t betray you. "Good for him, then."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your reaction. “What, you’re not jealous, are you?”

“What?” You scoffed, trying to brush off the question, but your voice came out a bit too defensive. “Why would I be jealous?”

Soobin chuckled, leaning forward. "I mean, you guys do spend half your time arguing, and the other half looking at each other like... well, like something is going on.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “We’re just… coworkers. Besides, he’s obviously into some yoga girl I’ve never even met. Who’s apparently really flexible.”

"Uh-huh," Soobin said, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the glint in his eyes told you he wasn’t buying it. "Well, for what it’s worth," he added, "I don’t think he actually likes yoga that much."

“Oh, sure. I don’t actually care,” you replied, trying to sound casual.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief.

“Really,” you said, the words coming out a little too firmly—as if you were trying to convince yourself as much as him.

Soobin’s gaze dropped to your plate, and he chuckled softly. “Then why’ve you mashed your rice into porridge?”

You looked down, realizing your grip on the spoon was practically turning your knuckles white.

Your face heated with embarrassment, and you shot Soobin a glare. “You seem to be really enjoying this, Soobin. What happened to ‘I missed you, let’s catch up’? You’re practically using our only hour to tease me.”

Soobin laughed, leaning back in his chair with an innocent shrug. “Hey, I am catching up. I just happen to find your love life… fascinating.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to brush it off. “It’s not my love life.”

“Right. Just your very intense work rivalry,” he said, grinning. “But fine, I’ll ease up. For now.”

—

You sighed, glancing at the clock. Just one more hour, and you’d be free. It was Friday, and the idea of slipping into bed and sleeping through the night was the only thing keeping you going. Unlike your coworkers, who were always up for late-night drinks, you had a steadfast love for sleep.

Well, at least until…

“You coming tonight?”

Startled, you looked up to see Beomgyu leaning against your cubicle. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day, and somehow, he looked even better when he was a little worn out. You felt a pang of frustration at yourself for even noticing.

“Where?”

“The team’s going out for drinks,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes fixed on you.

You hesitated, glancing away. “I don’t know. I was planning on just heading home,” you replied, trying to ignore the way he made it hard to focus on anything but him.

He tilted his head, a playful smile forming. “Come on, you’re always skipping out on these things. One night won’t hurt.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to be unimpressed. “Right, because I’m sure you’re really hoping I’ll be there.”

“I was,” he paused, then corrected himself, “I am.” He looked at you seriously, as if making sure you knew he wasn’t joking or lying.

“I—I…” You stammered, unsure of what to say.

“Please?” He added, his tone softening, almost like a plea.

“Fine.”

—

The bar was buzzing with the chatter and laughter of your coworkers. The group had claimed about four or five tables, but you’d positioned yourself at the bar, seated on a stool. You weren’t sure why you even agreed to come—maybe it was Beomgyu’s pleading, or maybe the way his eyes softened when he asked you. Damn it, he could be so cute without even trying.

You stirred your drink, watching it swirl as your mind wandered. Every so often, you glanced over to where Beomgyu was standing, sandwiched between two tables. He was in his element, effortlessly drawing people in with that easy, curse that confident charm of his. His laughter filled the air as he joked with your colleagues, their faces lighting up at whatever he’d just said.

He had a way of making even the most mundane conversation feel like the most interesting thing in the room. His smile, his gestures, the way his eyes sparkled when he said something funny—it was like he could command the room without even trying. It was no wonder people were drawn to him, and you couldn’t help but be drawn in too, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

You watched as he shifted from one group to the next, always moving with such ease, always the center of attention. His effortless charm left a weird knot in your stomach, but also a strange flutter, something you didn’t quite know how to process.

Damn it, you thought again, taking another sip of your drink. You were making yourself dizzy just watching him.

“You’re going to catch flies with the way you’re staring at Beomgyu,” Soobin teased, leaning back in his chair with a mischievous grin. He placed a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up.

You sighed, trying to brush off the comment, swatting his hand away. “Soobin,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “If you’re just here to mock me about my stupid crush on Beomgyu—”

“Oh, so we’re admitting it’s a crush now?” Soobin interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“What? No! I—I… it slipped out,” you stuttered, feeling heat rise in your cheeks as you tried to recover.

Soobin leaned in, his grin widening as he pressed, “So you are admitting it—”

“I’m not admitting anything!” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively and giving him an exaggerated glare.

Soobin chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. "Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that," he said, giving you a wink before turning his attention back to the table, though his smile lingered as if he knew something you didn't.

You huffed, trying to push the thoughts of Beomgyu out of your mind. The alcohol wasn't helping; if anything, it was just making things feel more awkward. You shifted in your seat, glancing back toward Beomgyu. He was laughing with your coworkers, his hands animated as he told some story, effortlessly commanding their attention. It was almost maddening how easy he made it look, his charm radiating off him like it was second nature.

"Are you sure you don’t have a thing for him?" Soobin’s voice brought you back to reality, and you looked at him, annoyed.

“I already told you, I don’t—" You stopped, realizing how defensive you sounded, how your heart was racing at the mere mention of Beomgyu’s name. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated at yourself.

"So, what's going on then?" Soobin asked, his tone suddenly softer, less teasing. "You can’t keep pretending you don’t care."

You looked away, avoiding his gaze as you focused on the edge of your glass. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”

For a moment, Soobin didn’t say anything, just watched you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze. Finally, he spoke again, quieter this time. “You don’t have to figure everything out right now, but don’t pretend like it doesn’t matter."

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat.

“Okay, what if I do…” you whispered, barely audible, eyes darting around nervously.

Soobin leaned in closer, eyebrows raised. “Come again?”

You sighed, feeling your face burn as you tried to keep your voice low, as if somehow that would protect you. “What if I do… have a tiny little bit… the tiniest bit… of a crush on him…” you whispered even softer, almost too quietly to hear.

Soobin leaned in further, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as he mimicked your whisper. “I can’t hear you.”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing your embarrassment. “I said,” you shouted, louder than you intended, and immediately felt the weight of your coworkers' stares on you. You quickly smiled awkwardly at them before turning back to Soobin. “I said... what if I did have a tiny crush on him?”

Soobin burst into laughter, loud enough that it felt like the whole bar could hear it. His laughter, bright and unapologetic, drew even more stares from the surrounding tables. You felt your face flush even more.

“You know,” he said, catching his breath, “it’s about time you admitted it. You’ve been looking at him like that all night.”

“I have not!” you protested, though you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Right, because I didn’t just see you staring at him while he was telling that story about his yoga class.” Soobin grinned knowingly.

You groaned, sinking lower into your seat. “Can we drop it now?”

Soobin held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, it’s obvious to everyone here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, finally calming down. “Trust me, you’ve got the ‘I’m-trying-to-hide-a-crush’ look written all over you.”

You leaned back in your chair, exhaling in defeat. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Soobin said with a grin. “If you’re embarrassed, then that means you care. And that’s actually kind of cute.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Soobin patted you on the back. “No problem, now go get your man.”

You snorted. “I’m not ‘getting my man’ anywhere besides isn’t he into this yoga girl you keep mentioning about?”

“First of all,” Soobin sighed. “I mentioned her once. Second, you're really gonna use her as an excuse now? I was just kidding. There wasn’t any “yoga girl”, I just wanted to see your reaction.”

“You lied?”

“For a good cause!” Soobin said, defensively.

“Look, I don’t even care. I mean... it’s not like he’s even looking my way,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to Soobin. “In fact, he hasn’t even talked to me all night.”

Soobin gave you a knowing look, the kind he always gave when he knew you were being a little dramatic. “You’re really gonna do this right now?” he asked, arching an eyebrow. “You’re letting one night ruin your mood?”

You sighed, resting your chin in your hand. “I mean, it's fine, really. I didn’t come here to be his entertainment plus free drinks!”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “It’s not about that, though, is it? You didn’t come here for him to entertain you, you came because you wanted to see him.”

“I did not come here…to see him.” You attempted to defend yourself. “I could be here to see you. You’re a pal.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Soobin rolled his eyes. 

You shot him a glare but it only made him laugh. He could always tell when you were hiding something, and right now, he was enjoying it a little too much.

“Fine, maybe I did want to see him,” you finally admitted, your voice softer than you wanted it to be. “But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just—he told me to come, which I did but now he’s been avoiding me all night and talking to everyone but me.”

“Have you tried initiating the conversation first?” Soobin said. 

You stared at Soobin, momentarily taken aback by his insight. “I just… I’m not sure what to say anymore." 

"Say hi or something, in fact," Soobin said, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. "You talk to him tonight, and... yeah, that’s it. Just talk to him. No ands ifs or buts."

"W-what? No! I can’t... I’m not ready! I’ve only had one shot of vodka. I’m not ready for this level of commitment—"

Soobin sighed in frustration. "Damn, you’re stronger than you look." He grunted, struggling to pull you up as you continued to thrash in your seat.

You dug your heels into the ground, still trying to resist as Soobin tugged at your arm. "No, seriously, Soobin! I'm not ready for this. What if I screw it up?" You felt the panic rising in your chest, your pulse quickening. The idea of talking to Beomgyu, of finally doing something about it, felt too overwhelming.

“And what’s going on over here?”

The two of you stopped your struggle, realizing it looked as though you were hugging, and quickly turned around, both of you frozen like deer caught in headlights.

“Beomgyu,” the two of you muttered in unison.

“You’re making quite the scene,” Beomgyu said. His tone was hard to place, but you would guess he was either slightly annoyed or, more likely, not at all amused.

“Sorry.” You glanced around, realizing no one was really paying attention to the two of you, which left you a bit confused, but you decided to ignore it.

“Soobin, Taehyun’s looking for you.” He pointed over to the table of interns.

“Taehyun’s here? Doesn’t he have…” Soobin gulped. “Okay. I’ll go find him.”

Soobin gave you one last glance, his smirk still lingering as he followed Beomgyu's direction. “Don’t think I forgot about this,” he teased, then strolled off toward the interns.

You let out a small breath of relief, now alone with Beomgyu. He was still standing there, his expression unreadable, though you could have sworn you saw something in his eyes when Soobin had left.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Thanks for... saving me from Soobin.”

Beomgyu chuckled, his gaze softening slightly. “Not sure you’re saved when a bigger devil is here.” He smirked.

“Right,” You chuckled before turning your attention back to your drink.

"Care for a conversation?"

"Now?" You hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic.

Beomgyu looked at you with a hint of confusion in his eyes before replacing it with his usual smirk. "What’s wrong with a little conversation?"

"I just... don’t you have a whole parade to lead? Aren’t people waiting for the life of the party?"

“Well, the life of the party needs a break, and I was kind of looking for my own relief.” He glanced over at you.

“And?” you prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Found her.” He locked eyes with you, a hint of mischief in his gaze.

You shifted awkwardly, trying to gauge his intent, but he kept his eyes on you, unfazed.

“So, this is where you take your breaks?” you asked.

Beomgyu’s smirk deepened. “Only when the company is worth it.”

Your breath caught slightly, caught off guard by his boldness. You didn’t know how to respond right away, so you turned your attention back to your drink. The silence stretched on, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was something unspoken between you two.

“Oh, right!” You pulled out a small paper bag from your work bag. “Here.” You handed him the washed t-shirt he had lent you.

“You can keep it,” he said casually.

“And why would I want to keep a shirt with your face on it?” You rolled your eyes, holding the t-shirt up with mock disdain. 

Beomgyu chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Y’know…I always thought you were pretty, but I think wearing my face has made you ten times prettier than you already were.”

He leaned back, watching you closely, his smile softening into something more sincere. “I’m serious though. You look good in it.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly brushed it off, trying to maintain your playful composure. “Sure. But I think I’ll pass on wearing it as a permanent look.”

You glanced at your watch, it was still early. If you were home you’d probably be binging a drama. You shook your head. It was time to say goodnight. You didn’t feel like overstaying your welcome. 

“I’m gonna take off,” you muttered.

“What? So soon? It’s only 10,” Beomgyu said, sounding surprised.

You shrugged. “Yeah, and I’m wasting my Friday night being surrounded by drunk colleagues.

“Okay, then at least let me send you home,” he said, his tone softening.

“It’s totally fine! I can take the bus!”

“The bus? We can share a cab!” Beomgyu insisted.

“I’ll be fine, I swear.”

“And I won’t be until you let me take you home safely!” Beomgyu said, pouting ever so slightly, his lips curling downward. You stopped yourself from smiling at the sight of his pout.

“It’s really fine! If it makes you feel better, I’ll get Soobin to drive me back. I mean, he drove me here,” you replied, trying to brush off his concern with a casual shrug.

Beomgyu’s demeanor shifted immediately. His face tightened, and you noticed a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "Again with Soobin," he muttered, his voice a little sharper than before.

You glanced over at Beomgyu, seeing the almost imperceptible shift in his expression. He looked... frustrated, almost as if your mention of Soobin was a trigger. You weren’t sure why, but the change in him caught your attention. 

“Yeah, I mean, he drove–”

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” Beomgyu sighed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What?”

“Do you enjoy… torturing me?” he repeated, sounding almost exasperated by your sheer density.

“Are you drunk?”

He shook his head.

He pulled you aside, guiding you into a quiet corner of the bar. Now, there was no sign of your colleagues—just the two of you, standing by a plant. The sudden isolation made the air feel heavy.

“You’re torturing me,” he muttered, his voice low. “You actually hate me.”

You blinked in surprise, unsure if you had heard him right. 

“Hate you?” You frowned, trying to make sense of what he was implying. “Beomgyu, I don’t hate you.”

“You avoid me,” he sighed, frustration laced in his voice. “You’re always making jokes with everyone around you. Yeonjun, Soobin—dear God, you even make jokes with the new interns, Taehyun and Kai.”

You stood there frozen, caught off guard by the intensity of his rant.

“You laugh with everyone, you smile, you bat your eyelashes at Soobin, you touch Soobin’s arms, you go on one-on-one lunch dates with Soobin… You like Soobin.” His words came out in a rush, and each sentence hit harder than the last. “And you don’t feel a single thing for me.”

You felt your heart skip a beat at his accusation, your stomach dropping. 

“I–”

“Why won’t you like me back?” Beomgyu repeated, his voice softer now, but still laced with an underlying pain. His eyes searched yours, as if looking for an answer that you weren’t sure how to give.

And it was… three seconds of silence before Beomgyu hurled onto your shoes.

You stared in disbelief, mouth agape, as the reality of what had just happened set in. The mixture of complete shock and disgust made you freeze for a moment, unable to process what had just unfolded.

“No liquor, my ass!” You screamed, stepping back in horror as you looked down at your shoes, now a disgusting shade of… well, you didn’t even want to think about it.

Beomgyu collapsed onto the floor, his body crumpling like a ragdoll.

“Oh my God!” You shouted, hands thrown up in the air, unsure of what to do. You were stuck between wanting to laugh at the absurdity of it all and wanting to strangle him for ruining your night—and your shoes.

Beomgyu’s head lolled to the side, eyes barely open as he slurred, “I... I didn’t mean for it to... to go like this. I just… I thought you’d—” He cut himself off with another groan, clearly too far gone to finish his sentence.

Your mind raced, torn between sympathy for his state and pure annoyance. You didn’t sign up for this. 

—

Soobin had driven the two of you back to your place. Beomgyu, half-conscious and heavily leaning against your shoulder, made no effort to support himself as you navigated him out of the car. 

You reached your front door and stopped, fumbling with the keys for a moment before Soobin broke the silence with a sigh. “You sure you don’t want him to just go home with me?” His voice was soft, but you could hear the concern in it, even if he tried to mask it with a teasing tone.

You shot him a tired glance as you finally unlocked the door. “Isn’t your mom visiting right now? You sure you want her to know this is the kind of roommate you have?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you nudged the door open with your foot, glancing at Beomgyu, who was mumbling nonsense under his breath.

“Yeah?” Soobin shrugged, clearly not thinking it through. “But, you know, I could always—”

“You sure you want your mom to see all this?” you interrupted, gesturing at the disaster that was Beomgyu, who looked like he might pass out any second.

Soobin blinked, his face faltering slightly as the reality of the situation hit him. “...You’re probably right,” he said with a chuckle that barely covered his embarrassment.

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping despite everything. “Thanks for the ride,” you said, offering a strained smile before you turned your attention back to Beomgyu. “Alright, let’s get you inside.”

Beomgyu stumbled and flopped onto the couch as soon as you let him go, groaning dramatically, his head lolling to the side. His disheveled hair and the faint smell of alcohol coming off him was enough to make you feel a little queasy, but you refused to let him see how uncomfortable you were. Instead, you turned to Soobin, who lingered by the door, looking unsure about whether to stay or leave.

“Is there anything I can do?” Soobin asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You looked at Beomgyu again and sighed. “Just help me change him.” You half-smiled, trying to reassure Soobin despite feeling like a mess yourself. 

Soobin chuckled awkwardly. “You should probably get him some water or something.”

“Yeah, I will,” you said, already moving toward the kitchen, your mind racing as you debated what to do next. You glanced back at Beomgyu, still sprawled out on the couch, looking like he had no care in the world. He was out of it, sure, but the way he had acted earlier still lingered in your thoughts, leaving a pit in your stomach.

Soobin finally left, his footsteps fading as the door clicked shut behind him. You were alone now with a drunk, insufferable Beomgyu, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever this night was about to throw at you next.

—

You were thankful Soobin stayed long enough to help change Beomgyu out of his puke-soaked clothes. It was an awkward scene, but you couldn’t exactly leave Beomgyu in his state. Soobin had managed to get him into a pair of comfortable sweats and a t-shirt before he left, leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

As you walked back into the living room, you found Beomgyu still sprawled on the couch, his head resting awkwardly on the armrest. His eyes were closed, his breathing deep but uneven. Despite the mess he’d made, you couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him.

You grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and gently placed it on the coffee table in front of him, hoping he’d wake up enough to drink it.

It’d been a few hours since the incident happened. You had just been sitting on your armchair, waiting for Beomgyu to wake up.

His eyes fluttered open a moment later, his vision blurry as he blinked a few times, trying to focus on his surroundings. When he saw you standing there, a faint, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re still here…” he mumbled..

“Of course,” you said, sitting down on the edge of the couch, keeping a safe distance. “You’re kinda at my house.”

Beomgyu let out a groan, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into all of this…”

You sighed, watching him closely as he sat up, trying to get his bearings. “You didn’t drag me into anything, I just so happened to be standing right in front of you, waiting for my prince charming to puke on me.” You replied, trying to hide the slight irritation in your voice, but the frustration from the whole night was starting to seep through.

Beomgyu winced at your words, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. “Yeah... that wasn’t my best moment.”

“No kidding.” You leaned back, folding your arms across your chest. “I’ve never seen you this... well, out of it. What even happened tonight?”

“I don’t know. I think I just... lost it. All the stuff with you and Soobin, it’s been bugging me more than I want to admit. And, well, I guess it all came crashing down at the wrong time.”

“So… you remember what you said in the bar just now?” You asked, the tension in your voice barely masked by the casual question.

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed as if he was trying to piece everything together. “I’m puke and black-out drunk. Not the kind to forget about the stupid shit I do when I’m drunk... kind of drunk.”

You laughed awkwardly, trying to process what he was saying. "So you… were—are—jealous of Soobin?"

Beomgyu nodded slowly, his gaze avoiding yours as he seemed to wrestle with his own feelings. “Kind of. I guess. I don’t really know. But listen, he’s a great guy and clearly in better shape than me, so I… genuinely think the two of you would be great together.”

You blinked at him, trying to process the unexpected confession. "I don’t know… I kind of had my eyes on someone else, actually."

“It’s Yeonjun, isn’t it? It’s because he’s up there with that whole manager position and his weird party tricks… damn it, I should’ve picked up rollerblading when I had the chance.”

“No—not Yeonjun. He’s a little too intense for me,” you said, the memory of Yeonjun yelling at you for accidentally dropping a pack of Skittles down the garbage disposal flashing through your mind.

“Then who is it? Not Soobin, not Yeonjun—I’m gonna be so for real with you right now, we’re kind of your only options if you were into like hot people–”

“You’re spiraling.”

“I just… I’m curious to know who this guy is! Who’s this less attractive person I’m losing out to, y’know?”

“Well, he’s kinda cute to me.” 

Beomgyu sighed and ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but also trying to mask it with a weak smile. “Okay, fine. I get it. You like someone else, and that’s cool. But you’re really killing me here with the suspense. Actually, you know what…maybe I don’t wanna know.” He sat up from the couch, shaking his head.

You were leaning against the wall opposite him, your arms crossed loosely over your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. Your eyes flicked to Beomgyu, watching him as he ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly wrestling with his own thoughts.

The way he shifted uncomfortably on the couch made you feel almost guilty for not speaking sooner, but you weren’t going to lie, you kind of enjoyed this little mental torture he was going through. 

Served him right for teasing you so much.

The truth was, you had been trying to avoid it, trying not to make things complicated especially with someone you weren’t even sure that liked you back. 

Come on. Dropping your coffee and making you wear the ugliest t-shirt? That didn’t really seem like someone who liked you.

“Look, y’know what, I’m fine. I’ll just go home,” Beomgyu sighed, standing up from the couch. “Thanks for taking care of me. I’m really sorry about the shoes. I’ll get you a new pair. I promise.” He ruffled his hair, clearly trying to hide the awkwardness with a forced smile, but you could tell he was feeling guilty.

“Beomgyu–”

“I’m good. Look, it stings. The girl I’ve been pining for, for about a year or so, doesn’t like me back. It’s cool. I’ll get over it. Not now, but soon enough. I just hope this guy—whoever the fuck he is—treats you well… but like, I hope he’s not that hot. I don’t think that’d be good for my self-esteem. But you also deserve the best so I hope he’s at least hot-ish…? I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m being really immature right now, aren’t I? This is not a good look on me,” Beomgyu rambled, his voice wavering slightly as he shifted uneasily on his feet.

“Dude, you gotta let me talk.” You sighed, walking over to Beomgyu and gently pushing him back onto the couch. He blinked up at you, still looking a little frazzled, but his shoulders visibly relaxed when you didn’t back away.

“This guy…that I’m into–”

“Oh great. We’re still talking about this asshole.” 

“He’s really funny,” you spoke, your tone exasperated but softening.

“It’s that one tall dude from marketing, isn’t it?” Beomgyu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not listening!” you yelled, cutting him off. Beomgyu gave you a sheepish, apologetic smile, slowly realizing that he was spiraling. You pulled his chin toward you, making sure he was looking at you. “He’s funny. He’s kind of an asshole, actually.”

“You’re into that?”

You shrugged, “And he’s really handsome.” You looked up at Beomgyu, giving him the sweetest smile, which made his heart leap.

“Don’t smile at me like that. You’re just gonna make me more hung up on you.” Beomgyu’s voice was softer now, the playful edge gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart race. 

You chuckled, “He’s also really cute. Didn’t peg him for the jealous type.”

“What?” He tilted his head, confused.

“He’s also really narcissistic. Has apparently zero alcohol tolerance,” you mumbled. “He also puked on my shoes.”

Beomgyu blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Wait, he puked in your shoes? And you’re still into him?” He let out a disbelieving laugh, though it was edged with a hint of nervousness. "And you think I'm the one who’s messed up?"

“Beomgyu, it’s you. How are you not getting it?”

“Oh.” 

Beomgyu’s gaze softened, the realization sinking in fully. His lips parted as if he were about to say something, but he hesitated, unsure of how to handle the sudden shift in the conversation.

“I’ve liked you for awhile now.” You continued, “I just thought you genuinely…disliked me. Or at least just enjoyed making my day miserable.”

“Miserable? Baby, I was entertaining you,” he said, his voice low, teasing but with an undeniable sincerity underneath.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling both amused and flustered. “Entertaining me? By making me spill coffee on myself and tricking me into wearing that ugly t-shirt?”

Beomgyu chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well–” he started, clearly trying to defend himself but failing to keep his grin in check.

“How about two weeks ago when you took out the screws of my chair at work and I fell and hurt my ass?” You crossed your arms, a playful yet accusatory tone in your voice.

“To be fair, that was Soobin’s idea,” Beomgyu said quickly, as if the excuse could somehow absolve him. He looked genuinely innocent for a split second before breaking into an even wider grin. “But I did help, so I guess I’m partially guilty.”

You scoffed, unable to suppress a smile despite yourself. “Partial guilt? You’re the mastermind behind most of it.”

"You don't get it!" Beomgyu sighed dramatically. "You're just so... adorable when you're mad! Your eyebrows furrow, your eyes widen, and when you pout... it's just... God, if you could see yourself the way I see you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. "Adorable? Really? You think I'm adorable when I'm mad?"

Beomgyu nodded eagerly, his eyes lighting up. "Yes! You don’t get it! You’re like a firecracker. When you get all huffy and your cheeks puff up, it just... it drives me crazy." He looked almost embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's like the cutest thing ever."

You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine sound that surprised both of you. "Am I just your daily work stress ball or something?”

"Yes!" Beomgyu replied instantly, his voice a little too eager. He leaned in slightly, his tone softening as if revealing a secret. "I swear, if you could see yourself, you'd understand. It’s like you’re all fierce and pissed off, but still so... you. And God, it's so easy to fall for."

You smiled shyly, “You’re a little weirdo, aren’t you?” 

Beomgyu grinned, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you’d come to know all too well. "Maybe," he said, his voice low and teasing. "But I'm your weirdo. If you’ll take me."

He leaned in just a little closer, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, and for a brief moment, the air between you seemed to thicken. You felt your heart skip a beat, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool, but your voice came out softer than you intended. "I don't know if I’ll like that," you teased, though you couldn’t hide the hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Beomgyu chuckled, his expression softening into something more sincere. "You should. I swear, I’ve got the best intentions. Even if I do mess with you a little."

Your breath caught as his words hit you in a way you hadn't expected. He wasn’t just being playful anymore—there was something real behind his eyes.

"You’re... kind of sweet when you’re serious," you murmured, unable to stop yourself from feeling a little flustered under his gaze.

Beomgyu leaned back just slightly, his smile turning a little shy, like he hadn't meant to let that much of himself show. "Yeah, well... I mean it, you know?" he said quietly, looking down at his hands before meeting your gaze again. "You make it hard not to feel this way." 

“You’re being ridiculous.” You puffed your cheeks.

“There! There it is!” Beomgyu shouted, jumping up and down on your couch in excitement like a little kid.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, your heart skipping a beat at how effortlessly cute he was. “You’re being insane!” you said, still smiling.

“I’m not!” Beomgyu responded dramatically, flailing his arms for emphasis. “How are you not seeing how cute you are?!” His voice was nearly exasperated, like he was trying to make you understand some grand truth about yourself.

“It’s probably how I see you!” you shot back, a teasing smirk tugging at your lips.

A moment of silence filled the room, the weight of what you had just said hanging in the air.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened slightly, his expression faltering as he processed your words. “That’s how you see me?” he asked, his voice softer, almost unsure.

You nodded, your gaze shifting as you tried to put your thoughts into words. “Yeah. You’re… well, close to perfect, as far as I can see.” You shrugged slightly. "The way you put your tongue at the side of your cheek and poke it when you're feeling smug after winning an argument with me... Maybe that's why I let you win sometimes. You look... sexy when you do that."

Beomgyu froze, his eyes locking with yours, a mix of surprise and something else flickering in his gaze. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grin, that mischievous glint returning. “You think I’m sexy when I do that?” he asked, scooting closer, his hands coming to rest beside your thighs on the couch.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, suddenly self-conscious as you realized what you'd just admitted. But before you could retreat, Beomgyu leaned in a little, his face lighting up with that playful yet sincere spark. “Well, now that you’ve said it... I’m definitely not letting you off the hook,” he teased, his tone warm and a little more serious than before, making your heart skip a beat.

“What else do you like about me?” he asked, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips.

You blushed, feeling your heart race. “When you… when you make everyone laugh. You’re just so effortlessly you,” you said softly, your voice warming as you smiled shyly at him.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered your name. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. “You’d see the most beautiful person in the world.”

You stayed silent, your heart pounding as his words settled in. The air between you seemed to thicken with unspoken feelings, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. "And, would the most beautiful person in the world... let me kiss her?"

Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel the tension, the way everything seemed to slow down as you locked eyes with him. He was so close, and his expression was so genuine, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

Slowly, you nodded, barely able to whisper, “Yeah... I think I would.”

His eyes lit up, and in that instant, the world around you seemed to disappear. Without wasting another second, Beomgyu gently cupped your face in his hands, leaning in until his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was sweet at first, testing the waters, before deepening as you both relaxed into the moment.

Everything felt perfect. Well…until…

You pulled away, suddenly aware of the rules that had always been lurking in the back of your mind. “Wait. Doesn’t our company have a rule about dating?”

Beomgyu froze for a second, his lips brushing yours one last time before he pulled back, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I could quit tomorrow if it meant I could kiss you every day,” he sighed dramatically, but there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart race.

Before you could say anything, Beomgyu pulled you gently but insistently closer, guiding you to sit on his lap. He leaned in again, his lips on yours.

“Beomgyu, I’m serious.” You mumbled between the kisses, your voice breathless but laced with uncertainty.

He only grinned wider, his hands lightly gripping your waist, “Rule, schmule,” he muttered dismissively, pushing you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. "We’ll figure it out. Besides, isn’t Taehyun like the boss’s son or something? We could bribe him."

“What?!” You gasped, pulling away from the kiss, your eyes wide with disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say that,” he muttered sheepishly, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes was unmistakable as he shrugged and pulled you back into the kiss.

“You did not just drop a big bomb like that!” You tried to protest, but your words were muffled by his lips.

“Less talking, more kissing,” Beomgyu murmured between kisses, his hands gently guiding your face to meet his again.

“But we have all night,” you teased, breathless but still managing a smirk.

He paused for a moment, his face a little too close to yours, his grin playful. “I’m listening…” he said, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, pushing him playfully away just enough to get a word in. “You’re also gross.”

Beomgyu’s expression faltered for just a second before he burst into laughter, his arms wrapping around you tighter as he pulled you back against him. “Gross? I thought you liked me.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to stay mad. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, even as you found yourself leaning in again.

“Impossible to resist,” he corrected with a wink, his lips capturing yours once more, and this time, there was no pulling away.

[aebinspa]

tell me somethin' i don't know

PAIRING: gunwook x y/n reader

GENRES: fluff, gunwook is your brother's best friend (of course gyuvin is your brother), reader is a bit shy, they are the same age, reader is bad at math and gunwook is actually the solution to her problems!

WORD COUNT: 0.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! i wrote this very short part about gunwook on the train and it will be the last thing i post for a while! i have already started to use my time to write a medium-length fic about karina that i hope will be better than the others i have written :) have a nice day!

The room of Gunwook, your brother's best friend, was strangely clean. Even after looking for several minutes in every corner, to then accuse him of something, you couldn’t find anything. The room was small but welcoming and on one side there was the enormous desk, with the books you would need for revision.

Sure, you didn’t hate Gunwook, but finding yourself suddenly, from one day to the next, at the house of one of Gyuvin’s most popular friends wasn’t exactly relaxing. Your brother Gyuvin certainly had everything a woman or a man could be interested in, but once you got to know him you couldn’t help but notice that he was missing something: a bit of tact.

“Y/n, you’re already here, ah” Gunwook, surprised, entered the room and closed the door behind him. Gunwook was popular, too popular for your tastes. You were the same age, you attended the same school but not the same section. The desperate sighs and screams you heard when you passed in front of his classroom, always surrounded by fans, made you turn on your heels every time.

If you had to describe your relationship with him, perhaps you would have reduced it to those greetings you sometimes exchanged when your eyes met. Nothing more. Except for one small detail: you too, like many others, found him extremely attractive and, on several occasions, he had shown you that he was kinder than Gyuvin’s other friends.

“Mathematics doesn't really get into your head, does it?” a bright smile almost made you regret not being very good with numbers. “Yeah. And Gyuvin decided to make my problem your problem, too,” you said, emphasizing the “your,” and the young man laughed. “We’ll show Gyuvin that the two of us are better than two Gyuvins.” This time it was you who laughed. “We are, without a doubt.”

Gunwook spent the next three hours explaining to you in detail everything you didn’t understand and, when necessary, he stopped to let you take a break. Sometimes your hands would touch and your breathing would synchronize; you tried desperately not to make it obvious that you weren’t indifferent to that closeness. Once you finished reviewing all the notes you had brought with you, you thanked Gunwook with a weak “thank you” to which he responded with a huge smile full of warmth.

“Well, Gyuvin didn't do anything wrong in calling me to help you.” “Sometimes he knows how to make himself useful!” you replied a little too enthusiastically, immediately ending up embarrassed by your own words. “Y/n, whenever you want, I’m always willing to give you a hand” “You don’t have to” You accidentally met your gaze in the nearby mirror and noticed the redness on your cheeks. What an idiot I am.

“Let me put it this way.” Gunwook settled back in his chair and took your hands in his, causing you to yelp a little, to which the boy responded by tilting his head and laughing, whispering “How stupid you are.” “Um, tell me.” “Next time, let’s go to a nice coffee shop to study or the library. Anywhere you like. I have an overwhelming urge to take you out on a date.” Your head was spinning a little, so you held his hands tighter as if seeking support.

“Maybe you got the wrong girl” That toothy smile didn't seem to leave Gunwook's face. “I don’t think that’s possible. I, well,” Gunwook ran his hand through his hair, “I need to get to know you better. Every time I talk to you or simply look at you my heart does flips. I don't know how I got through today's lesson without kissing or touching you."

"Oh, okay" “Is it a yes, Y/n?” Gunwook was now closer than expected. “Yes, I feel the same so how could I say no to you?” You were the same color as a tomato. Gunwook came closer and closed the distance between you by giving you a chaste and sweet kiss. You responded with a huff.

“You’re good with women” “Tell me something I don’t know, Y/n”

[moregraceful]

Mostly still talking about this to help normalize and de-stigmatize using accommodations like this as an adult bc I think sometimes we think oh I'm a grown ass adult that's not for me...but truthfully there's never a reason not to at least ask. I was talking to some friends and they were like, oh we did not know that was available for everyone!

We were at the Lehigh Valley Phantoms game at PPL Arena and they mentioned they have a sensory quiet space, which got me curious if the Wells Fargo also had sensory accommodations. I am not autistic and will not be discussing the various things going horribly wrong in my brain at all times but I have a tendency to try to pack too many games into one week and ends up completely hitting a wall by the end of the set of games and either vacate planet earth for several hours if not days or just like am so miserable the entire time that I'm unable to enjoy what's going on. And I'm not what one might call situationally aware but at this point in my life I'm usually able to be like, okay so if I got to three hockey games in three days and two of those games involve very long drives at night, including one on the NJ tollpike, I will probably be feeling a little wacked out by Monday. But I didn't want to miss any of the game if I didn't have to because tickets were expensive and I miss my Sharkies violently, so I went digging for more info.

The Farg's website said they had a whole sensory room for people who are feeling overwhelmed and said it was for everyone! So I went to check it out during first intermission because I was very much about to start experiencing full body horrors. I figure at worst they say it's for kids and I have to go find a quieter spot to dissociate in and just hope I get back on my feet before the second period (which I have done before and it was not. fun lol.) I found guest services and they just gave me a wrist band and directions. Everyone I had to interact with was very respectful and kind, if treating me a little bit like a ticking time bomb, but I think when you're in your 30s looking harrowed while advocating politely for yourself, it's really like oh this guy Needs it. There was a guest services person set up in front of the room and I'm guessing it's bc the room is on the suite level and they need to make sure it's like people who need to use the room for its intended purposes and not drunk adults goofing off. But it was very quiet and calm inside, I think they did some sound dampening and with a white noise machine + that deeply hilarious sensory wall and a bunch of fidget/stim-type stuff on the walls to play with as well as other toys on shelves. I was there bc I needed quiet space so I spent all of the time I was there sitting on the floor staring at an orange water feature on the wall, but I imagine for kids or adults who need fidget toys it's probably a dream.

Very calming in there and I did NOT miss the rest of the game or have to experience the horrors so it was a success overall! I missed three minutes of the second period just trying to get back to our seats but I'll take three minutes over 45 minutes, which has happened before lmao. I will almost certainly end up there again bc I will absolutely end up trying to pack 3 games in 5 days again at some point lol.

I don't really have a concluding thought, I think it's basically like...Just Ask...what's the worst they can do. I think most people following me are adults and porn bots so it's like, yes we can handle our shit but also if there are accommodations available that explicitly say they're open to everyone, just ask yk. At worst they say no and probably we have all ways of dealing with whatever we're going through or we just grit our teeth and white knuckle it through shrockey. But I feel like people pretty often do want to help you if they can so it never hurts to at least find out what's available.

And then I got this sick ass wristband giving me VIP access to a water feature lmao

I would do anything for the Sharks, including driving close to 4 hours round trip to tell Eetu Mäkiniemi, an ex-prospect, we love him and driving close to 3.5 hours round trip to Newark the next day to see the Sharks but I do think today is the day I end up seeing if they let adults who are not autistic into the sensory room to meditate at the Farg lmao

[cptn-sulu]

it’s very unrealistic for a few reasons but i REALLY want to finish the first part of hikaru!epic while i’m on break

[twodragonsinatrenchcoat]

The pain of looking into college really is the fact that that shit costs money.

[deathsmallcaps]

I work as the person in an amusement park who watches the children who get lost. Here’s some advice. This also applies to any mentally disabled adults that are under your care. Keep in mind that many places will not look for a minor ages 13-17 unless it is close to closing or they are disabled, as corporate considers it a strain on resources and employee use.

1. Teach them your phone number. Best gift you can give them. I’m not supposed to have my phone out at work but I can cut down dependent’s being-lost-time by probably 400% if I can contact you. It also assures the children That We Are Doing Something and that They Are Helpful and Smart. If your dependent has a poor memory, apparently writing your phone number in sharpie and then covering it in nail polish makes it stay all day, even if they’re sweaty or getting in the water. I haven’t tested this but I’ve heard a lot of moms recommend it. I’ve also seen bracelets with little plates or the beads saying the phone number.

Addendum: your dependent may tell you that they know your phone number, but they actually only know your passcode. True story. This summer has been a lot better, but last summer exactly one child the entire season knew his mom’s phone number.

2. Acknowledge that dependent’s memories are faulty, especially in new places. If you tell them to meet you in X spot or that your stuff is all in Y place, they may not remember where it is or remember how to get there.

3. All dependents, but especially little ones, have shit time sense. They might find your stuff, wait there for a minute or two, and truly believe that they’ve been there for an hour. Half the small kids that are brought to me are ones who *know* where their stuff is, but haven’t seen an adult they know personally in 5 minutes, so they’re going to panic.

4. Don’t take naps!!! And don’t let your dependent go anywhere you can’t go or at least go where you catch them at the end!!! Yes you’re staring at the play structure your dependent entered, but can you see them? No? Then there’s a good chance they went elsewhere. So many of the littler kids that are brought to me are brought by genuine, good-hearted strangers who see lost children and take them by the hand. Away from the spot you’re napping in front of/staring vaguely at.

5. This might just be something from my work, but we will not call dependent’s descriptions over the loudspeaker. This is because if an asshole were to see your dependent, hear the description, know it’s a lost dependent, and decide to steal it, they can then use the excuse, “I know where your guardian is! Come with me!” And then lead them out of the park or toss the dependent over their shoulder. Do you know how many crying and screaming dependents leave the location every day? A lot!!! We’re a fun location!!! We’re not going to know if the dependent is screaming because they don’t want to leave or if a stranger is taking them away. We might call the description over the loudspeaker if it’s past closing time and the dependent still isn’t found. But before that, we will only report it over secure radios across the park.

6. Tell a park worker right away. Preferably someone with a radio. Even if you spot the dependent within the next minute, that means the dependent will have less being-lost time. Especially if we already have the dependent with, you guessed it, me. Also please tell us when you find the dependent.

7. Take a picture of your depdendent at the start of the day! That way security guards can have a good idea of what to look for. One mother told me her daughter was blonde and showed me a picture. Her hair color looked brown to me, but then I knew what to look for in the crowd.

8. Keep at least one person in your group in one spot at all times, especially if you don’t have access to your phone or forgot to give out your phone number to the guards. That way they can find you if they pick up the dependent. If you are the only person in your group, then PLEASE stay in one place or at least stay with ONE security guard. It sucks for the dependent if they can’t find you right away even if the both of you are looking for each other and a guard is helping them. You are NOT helping if you panic and run around. And keep your goddamn phone on you and answer calls from unknown numbers!!!!! God. This is a good time to do that.

9. If you lose your dependent in an attraction like the lazy river at a water park, and you have that ONE person staying in place, then this is what you can do with 1+ mobile people.

A. If only one person can be spared to be mobile, have them pick a spot and stay right there, watching the river go by. Eventually, if the dependent is in the river, they’ll go by.

B. If you have two people that can be mobile, both start at the same place in the river and go opposite directions. If you meet up again without spotting the dependent, well, they’re not there.

C. If you have more than 2 people, you can do B but also station different adults at the lazy river entrances/exits.

10. Don’t blame the dependent! Even if they ran away and/or are pissy that you’re upset once you all reunite, trust me, there’s a 99% chance they’re upset too. Yes, this is a good time to have a serious conversation with them. Yes, if this is a repeated problem, and/or you warned them you’d leave the park if this occurred, you should not back down. But also - they’re dependents. They’re not stupid, and they should be told consequences and dangers so they can make good decisions, but they will never have the adult/guardian perspective that you do. Be kind.

Also please for my sake teach them if they’re brought to someone like me, that it’s THEIR job to be safe and listen to me while us park workers look for you. It’s YOUR job to find the dependent, not the dependent’s job to find you. I had a six year old little girl genuinely toddler-howl at me because she wanted to go look for her mom. I’ve never before heard a kid her age howl like that. I can trick kids out of crying 9/10 times but howling came as a surprise lmao. I think I can manage it now that I’ve experienced it but damn.

Also make sure those kids are DRINKING. Being in a water park is NOT the same as drinking water. They should be drinking every 15 minutes at LEAST, I am NOT kidding.

Also if I call you to tell you your kid is here, please don’t call or text me back after you have the kid. I’m sure other places have phones for these types of things but the only one I have is my personal phone. And I am happy to get the kid off my hands and into your arms, but I’m using my personal phone so plz. Don’t call me back. Absolutely call me if you need directions to my ‘office’ in the park. Don’t call or text me after. I have stories about that hoo boy but this post is already long.

[mechanical-aristocrat]

Okay this is silly but am I crazy to think that Screwllum didn't talk like this before? In Silver Wolfs event he just talked like a human but now he says things like "Affirmation:" or "Conclusion:" Does this have like. Lore signifigance? Was it explained? Or did hoyoverse just retcon how he talks?

[OOC:]

Actually, he has talked like this the whole time, it's just that in Silver Wolf's companion mission it wasn't used nearly as frequently as in the new story. (To make sure I was remembering correctly, I skimmed the dialogue section of the wiki and found that the amount it was used was around the same for both missions, but since Screwllum had far more dialogue in Punklorde Mentality, its use was significantly more spread out so it wasn't as noticable)

In my opinion, it was better that way. I feel like this sort of speech mannerism is only charming when it's used sparingly, but for every handful of lines? It's a bit awkward and loses its effectiveness pretty quickly. Before, it seemed to me like something he was doing intentionally, turning typically flat and emotionless robotic speech patterns into something more endearing. Now, though, it reads like it only exists because he's a robot and robot characters have to speak a certain way, right? Never mind the fact that Screwllum is far more in touch with emotions (both his own and others') than most robot characters that exist in fiction, and that he tends to speak in a very elegant and poetic way that wouldn't usually blend very well with that blunt, straight-to-the-point style of speaking (unless, of course, a balance is struck between the two...like it was in Punklorde Mentality, maybe?!).

It's not a retcon, per say, because that word usually only applies to major, plot-important elements (as far as I understand it), but it is an inconsistency.

[britneyshakespeare]

I feel like certain people on Tumblr have really been fighting for backwards progress when it comes to how we talk about mental illness and abuse. I see posts at least several times a week on my dash that seem to have the purpose of implying people with insert-mental-illness and/or insert-symptom are not abusive when they do insert-action-that-makes-people-uncomfortable, often times meaning to promote a more positive image of people with particularly stigmatized conditions, like personality disorders, mood disorders, psychosis, addiction, or neurodivergence. And I really really hate it because these posts almost always have the ultimate purpose of telling people not just "This thing is not inherently abusive," but often it comes across as "You were not abused."

I just find that to be really unhelpful and unintentionally hurtful, and for what? I believe that destigmatizing various mental conditions is a worthy cause, but at the same time this type of rhetoric seems to be so protective of people in whichever stigmatized group they're trying to advocate for, that it comes back around to a sort of respectability politics. Anybody can be an abuser. And someone's means and methods of abusing can very much be influenced by a condition they have. Why wouldn't it be? Their conditions will affect every aspect of their life and their interpersonal relationships. Especially if these issues are going untreated or being insufficiently managed. I don't understand why anyone would want to make it appear as if abusers are mostly neurotypical and mentally well people, or that if they aren't, then their conditions have nothing to do with it and the overlap is merely incidental. What? It makes it so hard for anyone who is a victim to come to terms and identify the dynamics of what they've gone through.

Addicts and mentally ill people don't have to be unproblematic in order to be humanized and accepted. And nobody profits from writing hard and fast rules about how abuse apparently works, drawing clear lines between which behaviors can, and cannot, ever be abuse.

[togekissies]

being an adult woman with adhd that was not diagnosed as a child fucking sucks. it took me like eight years to find a psych that would listen to me when i said i'm convinced i have, and once i did get officially diagnosed and got put on vyvanse (which works well for me!!) federal regulations on stimulants force me to see my psych each month just so i can tell them that everything is still good and they can go ok cool sending the refill to your pharmacy, see you next month.

it's fucking stupid. i hate it. my insurance gives me 90 days of literally every other medication i have, including my antidepressants, but am i allowed to get more than 30 days of another medication i have been on for nearly two years now and have been fine on??? no! fuck you!!

but by far the worst part is the psychs at the practice i go to seem to turn over once a year. so each year i get informed like the day of or day before my next appointment that the psych i've been seeing has left, and they can get me an appointment with another one usually like a month or two out. so each year i have to grit my teeth and beg for a single refill to be approved so i can make it to my first appointment with a new psych while i anxiously wait to see if i'm going to have to defend my adhd diagnosis to someone i have never met and who has all the power to decide they don't think i need it, no matter how much i tell them i do.

so anyway right now i'm killing time until i need to leave to go meet a new psych at a location that's twice as far as the usual branch i go to, and i hope to god she listens to me and is willing to have virtual appointments from now on because those are MUCH easier on me and my adhd brain and full time work schedule

[heyitslapis]

I don't have time for people who don't have time for me

I don't have time for people who don't have time for me

I don't have time for people who don't have time for me

[genreawareness]

my roommate’s in the bathroom so i cant brush my teeth and go to bed. time to soapbox on tumblr. very very curious what it would take to make living in a suburb emotionally sustainable for me because the genuine comedic overwhelming joy at coming home is actually crazy.

[eyesoftxmorrow]

i wish i could love in a way that matters

[sevenines]

torn between wanting to watch steven universe’s contemporaries to gain perspective on the shows place in broader culture and just not caring enough about other shows of its type to analyze it all

[cruisechaser-blassty]

not to be a downer on main but i don't think anything makes me feel more like [REDACTED] than calling the social security administration