#or perhaps they were not good. but great days

[danwhobrowses]

Since Critical Role's big endgame battle has begun (as of ep. 113) and looks to give us a fair handful of Lv. 20 combat across the board with VM and later the Nein - and also since the Omen Archive are yet to do a level up overview for Bell's Hells to Lv. 15 like I expected them to do after ep. 112 - I find myself optimistically and curiously wondering how Bells Hells would shape up should they reach Lv. 20.

Admittedly, I do remain worried about how underleveled they are; I know it's intended since the Hells are the 'underdogs not meant to be in this position' group but still, for comparison Essek debuted at Lv. 15 in C2 and Vox Machina ended their campaign at Lv. 18 when the stakes were slightly lower than what we have with Ludinus, the Vanguard, the Imperium, and Predathos. Still, with nothing we can do but pray they make it out alive - and I hope they do - I've decided to indulge that rare bout of optimism and deep dive into what would their Lv. 20 state look like? While also considering what they may add during this final arc should they level up in between like they did the last time they were on Ruidus.

We're gonna go through each character one by one for this, so I'll start with my favourite (aka the one I wanna talk/ramble the most about).

Ashton is perhaps the easiest endgame build to tell class-wise, it's likely Tal will have them go the full 20 since Grog has already done the Fighter dip and there's not many other multiclasses that can be of a greater benefit to them; the intrigue however with Ashton focuses on the ASI they get at levels 16 and 19, the first one particularly if there's still a level up mid-battle. The obvious route for the first ASI is to get back the CON they lost in the shard incident - which I still find an unfair penalty since they gained nothing from surviving the bold and deemed impossible action, 'your reward is you get to live' doesn't stick with me given that the 10 rolls (well, 9 plus the resurrection ring) are proof of survival anyway - and absorbing Dusk Hunger sadly didn't give back, adding to their DEX instead - which, also kinda stubborn of Matt, adding 1 AC isn't exactly worthy of absorbing a legendary item especially compared to what Orym got with Ishta, they were better off trying to dual wield it if Matt's not gonna give stats that'll suit Ashton's wheelhouse, STR and CON, and let the tank be a tank - so it will likely fall into Tal's hands to get Ashton's stats to where they want them to be. Either way, Ashton's STR and CON are going up if they hit Lv. 20 as pure Barbarian, Primal Champion adds 4 to both and increases their max to 24, so without ASI Ashton will have 22 STR and 20 CON by Lv. 20 anyway, with ASI however Ashton can go 24/22 in either direction - and we can't rule out more absorption in the future, since Legendary loot may be yielded from this endgame battle plus Otohan's Backpack, Zathuda's storage cloak and maybe any other armour from the two could be Legendary items just gathering dust among the group, but if Ashton were to take any of them they'd have to wait a day since the Harness only grants 1 permanent and 1 temporary buff per person, and each person who uses it on the same day risks it breaking by 20%. However, we also can't rule out Ashton taking a feat instead of ASI, it's a slim chance but there are some feats that can be of use for Ashton in general or specifically vs Ludinus; Mage Slayer, Strike of the Giants (Hill or Stone Strike, of the two I'd go for Hill because of it causing the prone condition, which will help Ashton and allies, like Orym with that 1d6 extra Force Damage, stack critical damage), and Great Weapon Master could be powerful if they don't focus on ASI. The Tough feat is always good for being tanky too, but such a feat would likely only be used at the Lv. 19 ASI/Feat domain to get the most out of it. The only other places Ashton can get major potential buffs - outside of any new enchanted items that aren't armour - are from Dunamancy and their Titan powers, but neither have provided a clear opening for improvement as of yet. Ashton hit their final Dunamancy path at Lv. 14, where they got Mark of the Messy End (which compared to Essek getting access to stuff like Reality Break doesn't seem to balance out but I guess Wizards are glass cannons so Dunamancy does more with them), but there is a quiet, lingering mystery over how Potions of Possibility and Luxon Beacons will behave if Ashton and their Dunamancy brain interacts with them, given how they have many potions on hand, in general and gifted to them by the Kryn Dynasty before they met with the Nein, and Ludinus using Luxon Beacons as power sources, there is potential for Ashton's Dunamancy to increase that way - or simply through Matt adding an extra Dunamancy path in place of an ASI/Feat, a Dunamancy-based feat, or swapping Primal Champion with something else. The Titan Form could also improve by level, and I kinda hope it does, it's powerful but given the time limit and Exhaustion it's still below the level of Grog's Titanstone Knuckles in terms of utility, if more power or less limitations are imposed the higher their level it could scale Ashton up further in a similar manner to having a Vestige or, in Orym's case, a Relic of the Red Solstice.

Speaking of Orym, you'd assume that he'll also go for the clean 20, but this is Liam O'Brien we're talking about - he gave Vax a Druid level for his love of Keyleth, so you can't put it past him to add a level in Bard for Dorian. Like Ashton, Orym has 2 ASI waiting for him at levels 16 and 19, due to maxing his DEX - and absorbing Ishta overclocking it (a DEX increase that actually makes sense as a Finesse blade Fighter, adding +1 to AC and attack rolls and a higher DC for enemies to save against superiority die attacks) - Orym has already dipped into feats a lot but could always find room for more. Great Weapon Master, Shield Master, Mage Slayer, and Tough again at level 19 are viable options for Orym and his build, but there's also a unique option of, instead of taking a level in Bard, Magic Initiate: Bard in lieu of Dorian; taking the feat lets him gain the 4th attack Lv. 20 Fighter yields while adding some handy Bard magic such as Friends, Thunderwave, Command, Bane or Cure Wounds - all of which are Level 1 Bard spells. While adding a level in Bard would be a nice gesture, the Magic Initiate feat would probably work better for Orym's build if he wanted to reference his connection to Dorian this way, since he doesn't need 4 extra 1st level spells and he already has a lot of proficiencies and bonuses to cover his rolls anyway, plus he still carries the sending stone if he doesn't want to do either. If he went for ASI, Orym could try to rival Ayden's passive perception by buffing his WIS, but I doubt anybody would hold it against him to be less perceptive than a god. Regardless of ASI and feats, a pure 20 in Fighter does up Orym's lethality immensely, getting a potential 12 attacks with two Action Surges - the second gained in Lv. 17 - in one round (16 attacks if hastened and 17 if hastened and a Time Rage Mark of the Messy End - which I believe allows you to attack with Bonus Actions - is used on an enemy), which would make him an extra efficient killer and protector for combat, which suits his character as well. While multiclassing is an uncommon trait to reference a partner, in Orym's case it's probably moreso cute but unnecessary flavouring.

Adding an element of their partner into their build is something Imogen has done already with decent effect, however. Imogen is another pure 20 likelihood; she has 2 ASI, a Metamagic choice, her final Origin Feature - Warping Implosion: essentially you teleport and anyone within 30 feet will be caught in a gravity fissure - and Sorcerous Restoration - 4 sorcery points restored per short rest - waiting for her at the full 20. As alluded, she already has Laudna influences in the Shadow Touched feat and a vial of her blood in her equipment so she needn't use a feat or a multiclass in further reference to her, which means it comes down to what options she chooses for her ASI/Feats and future skills. With her CHA maxed out already, the two ASI would need to go elsewhere or to feats; War Caster could be used to help her concentration spells, such as the reskinned Hunger of Hadar, Telekinesis, and Investiture of Lightning, unused spells such as her mother's Reverse Gravity, Hold Person, or Globe of Invulnerability, or future 8th-9th level spells such as Dominate Monster, Gate, and Mass Polymorph (turn them all into horses!). Otherwise using one of those ASI to add 1 to INT and WIS will add to saving throws of those stats (+1 for INT and +2 for WIS), she can also remove all her stat negatives by adding an ASI to her STR in place of a feat. Imogen also has options with choosing a final Metamagic from Sorcerer; she has Quickened, Distant, and Twinned Spell already, so the next one needs to also be helpful in combat; the potential of Extended and Transmuted Spell are decent, but Heightened Spell may be the best fit for her - spending 3 Sorcery points to impose disadvantage on a spell save can be very useful when using Imogen's spells such as Psychic Lance, especially against powerful magic users like Ludinus. Going a little extra meta with things, Imogen at Lv. 20 is only going to exist in one-shots or guest appearances - which means short rests aren't likely to faze her as much, also recovering 4 out of a total of 20 Sorcery Points per short rest isn't a lot when you get all of them back after a Long Rest. If Imogen were to pull a swerve and multiclass she could simply sacrifice an ASI for an 18/2 split or just take a 19/1 dip without it doing any negative effect to her current build. Of the multiclassing options, I find that the Tempest Cleric could gel pretty well with her build; connecting her lightning magic and her storm analogies (and her attempt to reach out to the Stormlord) from a narrative perspective, while combat-wise she'd get to use Wrath of the Storm to damage anyone that attacks her (as many times as her WIS, so 1-3 depending on her ASI usage) and, if she goes for the 18/2 split, she can use the class' Channel Divinity to max out a spell's lightning damage - which if used on a 9th Level Lightning Bolt is 76 damage without enhancements! - she also gets some minor healing to add to her repertoire, and with a group without a pure Cleric you can't really have a shortage of players who can heal even if it's a little bit. I can't see any other dip doing her as much benefit, so the full 20 is more likely, even if the maxed out Lightning Bolt would work wonders.

You know who also knows Lightning Bolt? Well, a fair amount of players and NPCs but also Dorian! Let's talk our Boy in Blue - no I did not say 'Blue in Boy' in my head when typing, shush! - he's our last PC likely to be a pure 20 of the group, also because the rest have already multiclassed, but like Imogen there is also the opening for a little bit of multiclassing. The ASI in levels 16 and 19 are probably best put into maxing his CHA stat that's currently at 16, DEX could also go up to 20 for additional Gambolcleft damage but the sword is pretty powerful as it is - it depends if Robbie wants Dorian to focus on Spell or Melee output for stats, but casting is probably the better way to go. Not many feats would help Dorian outside of maybe Tough and War Caster, perhaps Slasher but they do seem like minor additions he can go without, so ASI is likely the best route to take for him. Unlike with Orym where a dip in Bard wouldn't do much good mechanically, Dorian could easily take a dip in Fighter and have it be a solid investment; the Bard's Lv. 20 ability Superior Inspiration only helps if you've used up all of your Inspiration, and as said with Imogen that probably won't come up in a one-shot scenario where Lv. 20 Dorian would likely appear, but by Lv. 19 he will already have added spells from any magic class via his final dip into Magical Secrets - and honestly I have no clue what one he could take because like, all of the spells! Wish is probably the go-to one but Dorian doesn't want anything from the gods so maybe not? - and he'll already have a 9th level spell slot from earlier levels. A 1-level dip in Fighter can give Dorian Second Wind for some self-healing and another Fighting Style to choose from: either Superior Technique - like Orym has - or Duelist would suit best, and if Robbie sacrifices an ASI he can go up to a 2nd level for Action Surge, which is handy should he focus on melee. There aren't many other 1-level dips that would suit Dorian narratively, there was probably Warlock potential in EXU: Prime when the crown was in play but since, again, the group lacks a pure healer, Dorian is probably better off investing his stats and skills towards Bard spells - which in turn bolsters DPS as well as healing.

From one Bard/DPS healer to another, Braius debuted with some pretty high stats to begin with, with only WIS being a negative modifier. As a 12/3 multiclass he can go a few different directions - much like his character arc and selection of deity - but it leaves him at a crossroads - also like his character arc. The 12 levels in Oath of the Ancients Paladin means he's locked out of getting Bard's Magical Secrets, if he maxes out his remaining levels in Bard he gets 2 ASI, a College of Tragedy feature (make crits be at rolls 18, 19 and 20 after an ally is hit with a crit plus a '+10 on a roll but a -10 penalty on the next' skill), Countercharm, and his Bardic Inspiration dice will go up to 1d8, but all of those are kinda covered by Dorian's higher level Bard class and Ashton's Mark of the Messy End while in Luck Rage to a higher or better extent. The 3 levels in Bard however has locked Braius out of Paladin's Aura improvements and the big Elder Champion buff, which is a big loss, if maxed out in Paladin they'll get Cleansing Touch - end a spell on yourself or anyone you can touch as many times as your CHA, one ASI, a 5th level spell slot (handy for Banishing Smite, Circle of Power, Destructive Wave, and Summon Celestial), and Undying Sentinel - which is just a once-a-long-rest Relentless Rage with no CON save. Build-wise, it would be best for Braius to go one of three different paths; either go for a 15/5 split - so no 5th level spell but he gets 1 ASI, Undying Sentinel, and Font of Inspiration for the 1d8 inspiration - a 14/6 split - where we swap Undying Sentinel for the college feature, or go the unique path and add a third class - while the 5th level spell slot has powerful spells Braius' combat is much more melee-based so it is a less likely option. A 14/3/3 triple split sacrifices his ASI/feats but 3 levels in Fighter gives him another Fighting Style, Action Surge, Second Wind, and a Fighter subclass to add to his combat prowess. One unlikely Fighter subclass that could suit Braius is the Rune Knight; with 3 levels Braius will have access to 2 runes, which can be tied to his character's artistry, to add to his gear - the Fire and Cloud Runes being the most useful to him from what I see - they would also get Giant's Might as a skill for an extra 1d6 of damage once per turn. Fighter isn't the only class Braius can benefit from though; he would only need to dip 2 levels in Cleric or Druid to gain their subclass-based abilities; a Shepherd Druid would give the group a slight benefit with the Hawk Spirit skill, using a reaction to attack with advantage and having advantage on perception checks, but similar to Imogen he'd probably benefit a bit more from dipping into Cleric - particularly Grave, War, Ambition, and Peace Domain Clerics, who each have abilities that can further empower him. A dip in Barbarian would be handy for Danger Sense - not so much Rage because you can't use spells - maybe opting for the Zealot path subclass, which also suits narratively, for an extra 1d6 damage, or a dip in the Monster Hunter Ranger to aid in picking out weaknesses. A 12/4/4 split could also work, forgoing Cleansing Touch to grant Braius 2 ASI or feats if Sam wanted them; with that they can balance their WIS to 10 and then max out their CHA and another +1 elsewhere, or just do a feat like Fey Touched - since he was touched plenty by a Fey Hag all across her manor - to max the CHA and gain a spell like Hunter's Mark to aid in combat.

Speaking of Hunters, Chetney may not have been designed to survive the campaign but with Travis rolling the fatal 0 when playing as Grog that old man is still, somehow, kicking. If Travis doesn't pull a Bertrand and allows him to continue defying the odds and live to Lv. 20, Chetney would be in a similar position to Braius - having gone the Tealeaf route and locked himself out of the full 20 in Blood Hunter by having a dip in Rogue - in being in a crossroads of classes. If he invests his remaining levels in Blood Hunter to 19, he still gets a lot from the class; 2 Order Features (advantages on bloodlust saving throws and on any branded creature, then unlimited hybrid transformations on the next feature), 2 ASI, and an extra Blood Maledict. Chetney's 1-level dip in Rogue however means he could also invest into any Rogue subclass for a 17/3 split (or a 16/4 split if he sacrifices a Blood Maledict for 2 ASI over one) instead; Assassin would help his damage output especially since he likes going Invisible, but the Revived subclass would be funny implying that he died but miraculously came back and no longer needed to risk dying in his sleep because he doesn't need to sleep anymore. Chet could also triple class like we suggested with Braius; 3-5 levels in Artificer - since he's a toymaker his toys can be infused beyond the enchanted distractions, going for the Armorer subclass can also be handy for the Thunder Gauntlets ability too, 2 levels in Fighter - for Action Surge, 2-4 levels in Monk - which has decent potential if his chisel is made a dedicated weapon plus the possible boons from Kensei, Mercy, or Open Hand paths, or even 3 levels in Ranger - where Hunter, Gloom Stalker, and Monster Slayer subclasses each have skills that could help Chet in combat, can all be seen as options, but it can also run the risk of being overcomplicated. Despite a Feat sidestepping Chet losing control in his Hybrid Form, logic says that Chet would likely stick with the 19/1 route since the feat only imposes a disadvantage against losing control and he can still do collateral damage, character-wise he'd likely want to keep his Lycanthropy on lock as much as he can. Plus, going to 19 Blood Hunter levels yields unlimited transformations and the second ASI hits at Lv. 19; with the two ASI - which he cannot get from triple classing - he can max out his STR and buff up his CON, DEX, and/or CHA for any additional bonuses, he has no negative stats so any are fair game. I don't see any feats that'd be too helpful, but outside of AC or DC boosts from increasing CON or DEX, upping CHA could also help with persuasion and being persuasive and tricksy.

Persuasive and Tricksy are some of many words you can use to define Fearne, who is also a Rogue multiclass. Her current 10/5 with Wildfire Druid as the majority allows her some wiggle room for her to go a few different directions. The 5 levels in Rogue have locked her out of a second ASI in Druid, the timeless body (not really a big deal for a fey), additional Wild Shape perks, and the 9th Level Spell Slot though, but if she invests only into Druid levels for the full 15 she does still gain one ASI and her Wildfire Feature 'Blazing Revival' - where once per long rest Mister can sacrifice himself (I don't think it's a permadeath sacrifice just like an 'off the board until resummoned' sacrifice) to revive her to half HP if she's downed - alongside a 6th, 7th and 8th level spell slot. If she goes for an even spread of 10 levels each with Rogue's Arcane Trickster however, she gains 2 ASI, 2 more proficiencies, Evasion, Magical Ambush, and a few more lower level spells. Both have valid directions - and as much as Fearne is a 'collector' I think a third class probably won't suit her and will perplex Ashley further - for her character even with mixing the level splits; a 12/8 split will grant her 2 ASI and a 6th level spell slot, while a 14/6 split grants one ASI, a 6th and 7th level spell slot, the Blazing Revival, and 2 proficiencies. Since Fearne doesn't do many sneak attacks and uses her Rogue abilities more for pickpocketing, it would probably be sensible to lean more towards Druid; a 15/5 split if she wants that 8th level spell slot for Sunburst, Incendiary Cloud, or Feeblemind, but a 14/6 split if she can do without - Plane Shift could narratively be on her radar so she can travel to the Feywild as she pleases, but Fire Storm is still a mighty 7th level spell that can be additionally buffed by her titan form which as mentioned with Ashton could also potentially scale up with levels - would give her more stuff to work with, plus extra Druid Levels buffs up Mister's health so he could be looking at 75-80 total HP (5+(Druid Level x 5)) depending on whether Fearne goes level 14 or 15. Since Fearne took War Caster already from her last level and her WIS is already maxed out, ASI to CON could be looked into to add health, AC, and DC, while also improving her chances at holding concentration for her saving throws, alternatively she can up her DEX to improve her pickpocketing so she can finally claim one of those eggs, since she's tragically 0-2 on that. Feat-wise, there is still the Elemental Adept: Fire feat to bypass enemy resistances to Fire too, lots of enemies will have Fire Resistance after all, so if she doesn't want to use ASI there is still that to use it on. So level-wise there is some wiggle room but class-wise she is better off picking one to focus on.

Our final member of the Hells Laudna has already picked her focused class; on a 12/3 Sorlock with her patron bound to a soul anchor - get fucked Delilah - she has implied to go pure Sorcerer from herein. Marisha has previously stated that she saw no gain in any more Warlock levels even when Delilah was still active and while a 6th level in Warlock would grant her an ASI at Lv.4 and unlocks Grave Touched - change damage to Necrotic plus 1 extra damage die when in Form of Dread, which is pretty solid - it does indeed suit narratively for Laudna to avoid more Warlock levels. The 3 levels she has gained from Warlock though have (war)locked her out of her final Sorcery feature of Umbral Form - which would've made her resistant to everything but Force and Radiant Damage, so like Braius' Primal Champion it's quite the loss - but she still looks to get Shadow Walk which aids her mobility, providing that there's darkness or shadows in the vicinity, as well as one ASI and another Metamagic option by continuing the Sorcerer's path, not to mention a dangerous 9th level spell slot. Unlike Imogen, Laudna opted for Empowered Spell in her current Metamagics alongside Quickened and Twinned, doing Heightened or Transmuted probably wouldn't suit Laudna like it does her partner though. Instead, Careful Spell could be a good choice for Laudna since her CHA is maxed out, so she could pick 5 creatures to auto-succeed a saving throw to a spell she sends, but since she doesn't have many AoE spells Extended Spell may be the better fit to keep up concentration on spells like Animate Objects, Mirror Image, or any future powerful concentration spells she'll have access to like Eyebite, Globe of Invulnerability, Reverse Gravity, or Blade of Disaster - which Delilah used pretty effectively in Aeor - ongoing. Even so, the one ASI remains; the Amulet of Health puts her CON to a fixed 19 so if she added one CON it'd be 16 without attunement, which is still pretty good but worthless if she just keeps using the amulet, she could put +1 in her woeful STR so it's a -2 rather than -3, or opt for feats such as War Caster - for those powerful concentration spells - or another Eldritch Invocation with Eldritch Adept, such as Armor of Shadows or Eldritch Spear, which may be more fitting for her fun scary nature.

And that's all of them, for a TL/DR I expect Ashton, Orym, Dorian and Imogen to do the pure 20 for their classes, while Chetney will go 19/1, Braius and Fearne go 14/6, and Laudna goes 17/3. But if it were me, the only ones I'd adjust from those would be Dorian (19/1, adding Fighter), Imogen (18/2, adding Tempest Cleric), and Braius (14/3/3, adding Rune Knight Fighter) just from a meta/fun perspective. Either way I'll just be happy to see them make Level 20, so fingers and every other digit I have stay crossed for whichever route they choose.

[yongility]

NEO TV # I LIKE ME BETTER WHEN I'M WITH YOU. (jaehyun x reader) 6/?

genre: angst, suggestive, gang au, rich kid au, enemies to lovers (kinda), a lil of fluffy stuff. slowburn, series.

warnings: drug use mentions, gangs, fights, use of weapons, adult language, illegal activities, cheating (not on the main couple), toxic family environment, addictions, manipulation, insecurities, illegal street racing, death mentions. jeno is jaehyun's younger brother, angst, smut and if I slip something my bad haha.

word count: +10k?

a/n: im the worst I KNOW! It's just i kept trying to write this chapter like a million times and it never ended like I wanted to and seeing as I have a language barrier (cuz English isn't my first language if u didn't know haha) I was just being unsatisfied with the chapter, but I force my ass to sit down and write this down so i hope u like it!

Sigh...

Overthinking.

(Y/N) had never been good at not thinking too much. Ever since she was little, she always found herself trapped in her own mind, unraveling every last detail of any situation. Perhaps it came from her mother, who had an almost supernatural ability to turn the smallest into the biggest, the most trivial into something monumental. Her mother sowed doubts where there were none, and every little imperfection became a tragedy in her house. That had marked her way of being, of perceiving the world and, especially, the people around her.

She hated it. But, despite everything, she couldn't help it.

Lying on the bed, her eyes fixed on the white ceiling, she felt how the silence enveloped her, how it pressed on her shoulders, on her chest. A heavy, unbearable silence, like a blanket that drowned her. The thoughts did not cease, on the contrary, they intensified as time progressed, dragging her more and more towards the storm raging inside her.

Five days. Five long and exasperating days.

Since the last time she saw Jaehyun. The last time he'd been at her house at one in the morning, when everything had been so... strange. So full of heavy silences, elusive looks, and something on his face, something she couldn't explain. A look she had never seen before. As if it was charged with something, with a desperation so great that he didn't know how to share it. Something that was far beyond the tension of her argument with Mark Lee. Something dark, hidden in the depths of Jaehyun, that she couldn't quite grasp.

Worst of all, now, five days later, she knew nothing about him. The unanswered calls, the messages delivered but not read. She had tried to contact him so many times, but the frustration was just overflowing her.

What was going on? The uncertainty was worse than any answer she could receive. In her mind, questions swirled like a whirlwind. Was she the cause? Had she done something that had driven him away from her? Why had he left so abruptly after their encounter?

She remembered that night. That last shared moment. It had been so... intense. So close, so intimate. An instant of shared vulnerability that had allowed her to feel that, at last, she was connecting with him in a deeper way. But then he was gone. Without a word. Without a word, without a gesture to indicate that something else might be behind his departure.

Jaehyun's words kept echoing in her mind, over and over again. "You're the one that can keep me on track."

Those words stuck to her skin like an invisible mark. What did they really mean? Was it true what he had said? Was she the one who could keep him focused? She wanted to believe it, wanted to be that person for him. But deep down, a fear was creeping in. Was she just being a distraction for him? Was she simply the release valve, the temporary relief for the anguish he was feeling, only so that later he could lose himself in his own pain again?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

She was confused, she didn't know what to do or what not to do. Should she go find him at Neo Zone? Or just wait for him to decide to show up? But, if Jaehyun decided not to... then what would she do?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of knocking on the door brought her out of her whirlwind of thoughts. She looked toward the door without moving a muscle, throat tight, stomach twisting. The last thing she wanted was to confront her mother, but the knock was persistent, as if someone had decided to break the silence of her room and force an interaction she didn't want.

But, despite the heaviness she felt inside, she got up. A slow, weary movement, as if she were walking through thick water. When she opened the door, she did not find what she expected, neither her mother, nor the inevitable argument. Instead, there he was.

"Daeho..." she murmured, her voice muffled, as if somehow his presence gave her back something she had lost in those days of constant overthinking.

It really had been a long time since they had last met face to face and to say it wasn't a surprise to her would be a total lie.

"Hey," he said, with a smile that didn't quite light up his face. "Can we just... hang?" he asked, scratching the back of his head as if it were weighing on him.

She nodded without another word, stepping aside for him to pass. As soon as he was through the door, Daeho plopped down on his bed unceremoniously, and (Y/N) mimicked him, lying down next to him quietly. They both stared at the ceiling, engulfed in the same silence that had filled their room before his arrival, though it felt somewhat less empty now.

It had been so long since they had shared a moment like this, a moment of simple companionship. She remembered the years when he had been her best friend, her inseparable companion, the only person she truly trusted within the family. But now, lying next to him, she felt as if she had a stranger by her side, someone who, despite all the shared memories, had fallen into a darkness from which she could no longer rescue him.

Daeho broke the silence, his voice soft but laden with an almost tangible weight. "How have you been?"

"I could be better," she replied, with a sincerity he understood without the need for details. He nodded, without looking at her, and went back to losing himself in the ceiling.

(Y/N) gaze strayed to him, and for the first time in a long time, she looked at him closely. His face seemed to have aged years in just a few months. His skin, paler than usual, was dotted with small imperfections that he once cared for with care. The dark circles under her eyes were deep, and her expression had an air of resignation that hurt to see. He sighed, swallowing the lump he felt in his throat.

It was ironic. The person she had grown up with, with whom she had shared so much, now felt like a stranger. She couldn't remember the exact moment when their friendship had changed, or how they got to this point. It had all happened so subtly, as if the words and gestures that had once bound them together had now lost their power. Perhaps time had eroded all that. Or maybe they simply didn't understand each other in the same way anymore.

A pang of pain shot through her. It wasn't just sadness she felt at seeing him like this, but also a pent-up rage, a helplessness that made her want to scream, to wonder at what point he had reached this point. How had he fallen so low?

Perhaps that moment had been from two years ago, when things had become a little darker in her family environment. When her aunt and uncle seemed unable to stop hurting his self-esteem again and again and again. Maybe it was since that gala when all eyes were on him, judging him, laughing at him, stalking him, waiting for him to make a simple mistake so they could point at him.

So they could tell him that he was not worthy of everything he had around him.

That he couldn't be as good as his father was.

That he was a mere spoiled child who deserved nothing.

Perhaps that was when it dawned on Daeho that he could never live up to the expectations he had to fill.

"Daeho..." she whispered, unable to keep the thought to herself alone. There was something heartbreaking about seeing how her cousin was losing himself, something that reached straight to her heart.

He closed his eyes, as if he knew what was coming, and remained silent, as if everything was in order.

"Why did we end up like this?" the question left his lips without meaning to. And as she uttered it, she felt a surge of pain run through her, as if that simple phrase was a reminder of how far away they were from each other.

Daeho closed his eyes for a few moments, as if trying to find an answer. Finally, he spoke, his voice muffled and distant.

"It's the only time I forget," he said, staring at the ceiling, not daring to look her in the eye. "When I do it, it's like I can stop thinking about everything."

"You're not forgetting," she asserted, "you're destroying yourself."

He let out a bitter laugh. "I don't think I'm doing it any more than they're destroying me," he said, his words hitting her with the force of a fist.

Silence filled the room again. She wanted to react, to scream at him, to convince him that he couldn't go on like this, but the words stuck in her throat. How to tell him that she could see him falling and could do nothing to stop it? How to make him understand that he was killing a part of himself?

"I can't keep watching you destroy yourself," he said at last, his voice trembling.

Daeho fell silent, and she felt a tide of memories rise up inside her. She remembered the years they had shared, the times when he was her refuge and she his, the days when nothing could separate them. Daeho had been more than a cousin; he had been her confidant, her best friend. To see him like this, consumed by something she could neither understand nor control, broke her heart.

"You don't have to," he replied softly, but the intensity of his words hit her hard.

(Y/N) wanted to laugh, a bitter, hurt laugh, but instead, she felt the lump in her throat grow larger.

"You said you'd quit it," she reminded him, almost in a sob.

Daeho turned his head toward her, and their eyes met for the first time that night. The look on his face was so devastated that she (Y/N) wished he hadn't looked at her.

"I can't," he admitted, his voice tinged with desperate honesty. "I've tried so many times, and each time...each time I realize I don't want to give it up. I know it's not what you want to hear, but...I'm in too deep. I don't know how to get out, even if I wanted to."

(Y/N) felt the pain in her chest become almost tangible. Seeing him like this, hearing those words, hurt in a way she could never have imagined.

"Why do things have to be like this?" she asked, feeling a lone tear fall down her cheek.

Daeho sighed, a long, exhausted sigh, and hid answer was so raw it seemed ripped from deep within him. "It's what I chose," he murmured. "It may not have been the best decision, but at least it was mine. It's the only thing I really decided for myself...without someone else telling me what to do, who to be. Even if it was for the worse."

She wanted to understand, wanted to see in his words something that would give her comfort, but she couldn't. She couldn't accept that someone who had once been so important to her had been lost like that.

"Don't let it drag you down," he said suddenly, his voice becoming firm. "I made my choices, (Y/N). But you...you have a life you can still build. I'm already too deep, but you...you have a lot ahead of you."

(Y/N) felt a mixture of anger and pain. She couldn't believe he was capable of telling her that, after all.

"You shouldn't keep seeing Jung Jaehyun," he added, in such a serious tone that it took her by surprise.

She looked at him, incredulous, the pain transforming into icy fury. "Get out of my room," he said, pointing to the door.

Daeho nodded, though not without a final sigh of resignation. "I just needed to tell you."

"Just go," she murmured, turning away from him.

He walked out quietly, leaving her in that loneliness that now seemed so much deeper, with the echo of his words echoing in the empty room.

Jaehyun knew it had been a chain of bad decisions and circumstances that had pushed him this far, but facing it was like tearing his skin off. He couldn't deny the truth: he hated everything around him, and he hated himself more than anyone else. His life, a maelstrom of regrets, had dragged him to this point, and try as he might, he could not escape that bitter mix of rage and hopelessness. Sometimes, in his darkest nights, he wished that everything would vanish into emptiness, that the weight of existing would finally disappear.

He wanted, with every fiber of his being, to close that circle.

"Ah, Jaehyun, always a pleasure to see you," Sooman said, leaning back in his chair with an icy, calculating smile, interlocking his hands with the false familiarity of one who controls the board.

Jaehyun felt the poison burn inside him. Disgust twisted his stomach, and that sneering smile of Sooman's only made his insides boil even more. He loathed the man with an intensity he could almost taste on his tongue. He faked a strained smile.

"I could say the same."

Fake it till you make it.

The thought passed fleetingly, and he tried to cling to it, but the hatred ate him.

"The last time we saw each other wasn't very pleasant," Sooman commented, dropping even more comfortably into his chair, as if enjoying the memory. Jaehyun's jaw immediately tensed. The memories of the beatings were still etched on his skin, and in his memory. Pain. Anger. Shame. All jumbled into a poisonous tangle. "That's why I want to make it up to you with a job."

Jaehyun could barely process that he was sitting there, across from Lee Sooman, listening to his offer, swallowing his disgust. He had heard everything Mark Lee had confessed, every word about the dark side of his boss that seemed to have no end. Deep down, all Jaehyun wanted was to make him pay, to see him suffer as he had seen his father, his Uncle Dong, Winwin suffer. Each of them had felt Sooman's merciless fist in their lives, and he was the last piece to fall.

Everything in him screamed to break the balance, to let the anger out. He wanted peace, but at the same time, he wanted to destroy everything.

The tension in Jaehyun's body increased. Make it up to him? The word felt like a taunt, but his voice was controlled, cold.

"What's this about?" asked Jaehyun, exhaling a sigh, as if by releasing the air he could release some of the weight in his chest.

Sooman smiled, with twisted satisfaction, and pulled his chair closer to the desk. "You see, in three weeks I have a trade. Trouble is, I don't want to, nor do I plan to, do it alone. I could take Cheol Uk with me, but I'd rather have him stay here, on this side of the pond...in case things get complicated," he explained, crossing his arms with the arrogant assurance of one who knows he controls all the strings. "And I think you'd be perfect company."

"What kind of exchange?" asked Jaehyun, though deep down he already sensed the answer.

"Weapons."

The shock of that word fell on him like a brick, a weight he couldn't shake. Jaehyun felt his body stiffen. He'd been in dangerous situations before, he'd played with fire and survived, he was a dealer in Neo Zone. But he knew that accepting that would mean crossing an invisible and final line. He would be transformed into someone even more embroiled in the chaos of the gang, with his hands stained with something he could never wash off.

It was hard to resist, but it was just as hard to accept.

"It'll be quick," Sooman continued, studying Jaehyun's every gesture like a predator watching its prey. "Just outside the city. If all goes well, it won't take more than an hour." he noticed the tension in Jaehyun's gaze, the hesitation he was struggling to keep hidden, and leaned toward him slightly. "I'm asking you because I trust you."

The words fell like a taunt. Jaehyun felt his blood boil, how his skin almost throbbed from pent up rage. His right hand clenched into a fist on his leg, trying to restrain the urge to get up and smash something, anything that would allow him to release what was burning inside him. How dare Sooman speak of trust, to pretend there was anything sincere between them? After all the damage he had sown around him?

But what choice did he have left? Deep down, Sooman's control was absolute.

"What's the pay?"

"Enough to cover six months of your friend's rehab," Sooman replied, his eyes locking on Jaehyun's, pressing right where he knew it hurt.

The mention of rehab was the final piece that fell, sealing his fate. Above all else, he needed the money. Above all else, there was someone else needing to get out of hell, and he couldn't let it drop. He closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing the pain that mingled with anger and despair.

"I'll do it."

"I knew you wouldn't fail me," Sooman replied, satisfied, with a smile that seemed tainted with venom. "You are just like your father. My trust is in you, Jaehyun."

Jaehyun nodded, feeling the knot in his chest tighten, choking him.

Fake it till you make it.

Roll on, light it up, inhale, exhale.

Roll on, inhale, exhale.

Inhale... exhale.

Inhale.

One, two... three.

Exhale.

Jaehyun coughed loudly as he passed the joint to Lucas, who with shrunken, red eyes took it in his hands without hesitation, taking a puff to hold the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds and slowly draw it out.

In front of them was the panoramic view of SM City, the prominent lights of the northern area made the southern area look small, even though from a distance they didn't seem to be so far apart... so different.

If only that were the case.

"You know you don't have to do it," Lucas muttered, exhaling one last puff of smoke before dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with the toe of his shoe. His gaze, fixed on the ground, hid the trace of worry in his eyes.

Jaehyun continued to stare at the lights of the city, each bright spot fading into the distance, like the possibilities he once had and now seemed to be extinguished. His voice came out almost as a whisper, broken and strained. "It's six months of treatment, Lucas. "Winwin... Winwin has started to move his hand. It's a little acomplishment, I know. But it's a step, and I can't... I can't let that stop now." Each word was an effort, a confession that, deep down, that small breakthrough gave him a hope that felt forbidden in his life.

Lucas was silent for a few seconds, watching Jaehyun's profile, his rigid posture and the shadow of weariness in his gaze. "I thought you didn't want to do anything related to Sooman."

Jaehyun swallowed saliva. He thought so too. He had tried to escape Sooman's influence, that world that brought only destruction, but reality always caught up with him. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and sketched a bitter smile, one that barely disguised the lump forming in his throat.

"I thought so too, but you and Mark have said so, haven't you? If I try to do anything about it, not a week goes by before I'm found with a bullet in my head." His voice cracked in bitterness. "Tell me, what other choice do I have?"

Lucas let out a deep sigh, as if searching for the words amidst a cloud of dark thoughts. Then his voice was firm and determined. "I'll do it."

Jaehyun turned his head in surprise and looked directly at him. His eyes, reddened with fatigue and smoke, met his friend's. Then he let out a dry laugh, without a hint of mirth, and patted him on the back.

"Jaehyun." The name left Lucas' lips grimly, stopping him in his tracks. "I know we've said all our lives that the only one who had a chance of getting out of this shit was Winwin...but we know he's not the only one. Maybe I'm not smart enough, but I know you are. You could go to college, get away from all this. You're good at math, you're good at sports... You've got something out there, something worth more than I could ever have." Lucas looked at him with almost desperate seriousness. "Let me make the trade for you. You've got a lot more to lose."

His friend's words hit him like a truth he had tried to ignore. He pondered them silently, letting each one settle in his mind. He appreciated Lucas' attempt, his desperate proposal to sacrifice his own life to protect him, but he knew he could not allow it.

With an effort, he kept his voice steady, even though he felt each word plunging him deeper into his own emptiness. "I appreciate your... nobility, dude. But I will not let you risk your life to save mine. That's not something I can accept."

Lucas exhaled sharply, frustrated. His words came out cutting, in a last-ditch attempt to talk some sense into him. "Do you want to end up like your father, like Uncle Dong?" The mention of both names made Jaehyun tense, his fists clenching tightly until his knuckles turned white.

Jaehyun didn't respond. He turned around and started walking towards his car, trying to stifle the anger and pain boiling inside him. He could hear Luke's footsteps following him, the echoes of his words echoing in his head.

"We know I'll end up like that someday..." he muttered, without turning around. The resignation in his voice was a shock to both him and his friend.

But then, Lucas said something that forced him to stop, "What about (Y/N)?"

The name made his whole body freeze, (Y/N). He could see her in his mind, feel the warmth of her laughter, the twinkle in her eyes. She was the only light in the midst of his darkness, the only memory he dared to cherish in his loneliest moments. Inside him, where no one else could see him, was where he allowed her to exist, a longing he would never dare to confess.

"There is nothing with her." His voice was a harsh whisper, as if in saying it he was tearing out a piece of himself. He didn't even turn, just let it escape into the wind. "There can't be."

"I thought you were having something," Lucas confessed, stepping closer to stand in front of him, forcing him to look at him. "Maybe you can't see it, but anyone would notice. You don't have to say it, Jaehyun. It shows in your eyes every time you talk about her. You want something with her, anything. You're going to risk that by getting more into this shit?" Lucas waved his hand, almost unable to control himself. "We were doing relatively well selling those packages. At least we could pay for Winwin's treatment. But now... Weapons? What will they ask you to do next? Assaults? Robberies?" his voice deepened, and Jaehyun noticed the fear in his eyes. "Kills? Do you think (Y/N) would want to see you in that hell?"

Jaehyun closed his eyes and took a breath. Lucas' words drilled into him, burned inside him, but he couldn't accept them. He couldn't accept a possibility that he knew would end up hurting (Y/N).

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at Lucas directly, with a forced coldness that tried to hide the storm inside him. "And what do you want me to do, Lucas? She doesn't deserve a life like mine. She needs to be away from all this...away from me. I could only drag her into this hole from which there is no way out." The words came out fast, almost angrily, but at the end his voice cracked. "I can't offer her anything, do you understand? Nothing worthwhile."

Lucas lowered his gaze, but his voice still reflected desperation to save him. "But you have something to offer, Jaehyun. Your life. A life that can still go somewhere, that can be something different." She looked at him pleadingly. "Don't make the trade. Don't get yourself into this anymore. You have a way out, even if you don't want to see it."

Jaehyun's decision was like a stone inside him, a sinking certainty, but it was the only thing that gave him stability at the moment. He averted his gaze to the city lights and quietly sealed his fate.

"I have to do it." The determination in his voice was unwavering. "It's already decided."

Lucas watched him silently, with a sadness so deep it was almost palpable. He knew, deep inside him, that he was losing another friend. The night closed in around them and under the stars, as the lights of the city shone in the distance, he knew that, in some sense, he had already lost his friend.

When (Y/N) got out of Jungwoo's car, the roars of the engines echoed in her ears, but despite the noise, her mind was somewhere else, anchored in a memory. The first time she set foot in Neo Zone, it had been a curiosity, an adventure she didn't fully understand. Now, that same place seemed just as intimidating, but different. This time she was not an outsider spectator. This time, she was there for him.

People's gazes were instantly fixed on her. Some with curiosity, others with disdain. The gleam in her eyes was not the same as those of the "normals" around her in her world. No, here the gazes were sharper, like knives, trying to strip her of her essence, her privilege. She felt out of place, and though in some corner of her mind she knew she would never be part of this world, at that moment all she cared about was finding him. Jaehyun.

The lights of the cars reflected the tense and charged atmosphere of the race track, where the local gangs came to show off their cars and gamble more than they should. She knew what she was up against, and if she had learned anything over the past few months, it was that, in that place, the rules were few, but fierce.

So she wasn't surprised when a familiar and unpleasant face emerged from the crowd. Chris, with that sly grin, who always seemed to have a second purpose behind every word.

"Well, look what we have here," he said, his voice laden with derision. "After Johnny's party, I didn't expect you to be one od Jaehyun's toys."

( Y/N) tried to keep her cool, her body rigid and her gaze steady. There was something about that guy that always made her feel small, as if his words were thorns thrown on purpose. But she had no time for games now. She wasn't here to confront Chris, only to find Jaehyun. "Let me through, Chris," she said, her voice cold, firm.

But he didn't let her go so easily. He stepped between her and the pass, and his hand brazenly strayed to her waist. A touch she didn't ask for, a brush she didn't want.

"Oh no, baby," he said, his tone low, like a challenge. "I think you owe me a debt for that punch you gave me, remember?"

( Y/N) she felt irritation bubbling inside her, but she wasn't going to lose her composure. Not here, not now. But she wasn't going to give in either. "Let go of me, or I swear I'll hit you again," she retorted, pushing lightly against his chest, hands firm. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was what she had to do. She wasn't going to let Chris touch her.

Chris laughed, but it wasn't a genuine laugh. It was mocking, calculating, as if he enjoyed the power he thought he had over her. "Can you imagine what Jaehyun will think when he sees me with one of his toys?" The malice in his voice left no room for doubt. He knew what he was doing, and he knew he had something he could use against her.

( Y/N) didn't answer right away. Her gaze wandered, searching through the crowd, and there, like a magnet, she found him. Jaehyun. He was far away, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze, the weight of his presence. And it wasn't just any glimpse, no. She knew she had seen him. His posture was rigid, his face annoyed, his eyes burning with a silent fire.

"Turn around to find out for yourself," Jaehyun said, his deep voice cutting through the air. It was not a suggestion. It was an order, firm, authoritative. At that moment, the threat was clear. "Let her go and get the fuck out of herr if you don't want that fucking smile wiped off your face. Remember, you're in my zone."

Chris hesitated for a second, then let go of (Y/N), as if Jaehyun's presence was a steel wall repelling him. Looking at Jaehyun as if he would challenge him, but knowing that this was not his territory. Jaehyun's area, yes, but not his.

Before walking away, however, he couldn't help but throw one last malice-laden glance towards (Y/N). "Call me when you get tired of him, gorgeous," he said venomously, not caring that his words were only empty provocation.

When Chris finally disappeared into the crowd, (Y/N) didn't hesitate for a second. He walked straight towards Jaehyun, until she was right behind him, the sound of his footsteps drowned out by the bustle of the arena. Feeling his presence so close gave her a strange sense of calm, but also aroused an uneasiness she didn't know how to handle.

Jaehyun turned slowly toward her. His expression was hard to read, but the frustration was evident. As always, he was trying to maintain control, but he couldn't hide the annoyance. In one swift movement, he grabbed her wrist, holding it firmly, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asked, anger tinged with palpable discomfort. His tone was low, dangerous. He wasn't saying it out loud for all to hear, but it was as if his words cut through the air between them.

( Y/N) felt a knot in her stomach. The worry, the confusion, the need to explain herself, but also the frustration of knowing that she had no right to be there, that this world was not hers. However, she could not lie. "I was looking for you," she said, without thinking, without fear of what that might mean.

"You weren't answering my calls. I wanted to know how you were..." she confessed, feeling Jaehyun pull her gently through the crowd to get her away from the people.

Finally, after pushing through the sea of people, they found themselves in a quieter corner. Jaehyun let go of her hand and turned to face her.

It was at that moment that he saw the pain reflected in her eyes. The girl, her gaze fixed on him, fiddled nervously with her fingers, as if trying to calm her anxiety.

"(Y/N), I'm fine. You didn't have to come and get into this," he told her in a low voice.

"You could have answered my calls," she demanded, her voice strained. "I didn't know how you were after what happened at my house almost a week ago."

Jaehyun looked her straight in the eye and slowly denied.

"That night I shouldn't have gone to your house."

What...?

"What are you talking about, Jaehyun?" she asked, almost in a whisper, surprised by those words.

Because deep down he knew he was right. That night he shouldn't have crossed that line, shouldn't have sought comfort from her, shouldn't have allowed the girl to sneak into his head and heart like that. He should not have allowed the closeness between them to make him vulnerable.

He shouldn't have thought he deserved something like that.

Because he didn't. He never would.

"Why is it that every time we seem to be moving forward, you decide to pull back?" she asked him, her voice breaking.

"Because there shouldn't be an us, (Y/N)," Jaehyun replied, serious, as if the words hurt him as much as they hurt her. "And you know it."

She tried to process what she had just heard, but her mind was still spinning, entwined with thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone. Coming here, meeting him...it had all been a whirlwind. Her cousin's words that morning still echoed in her mind.

That was not what she had expected to hear from Jaehyun.

"No, Jaehyun. I don't know," she said, frustrated, her eyes flashing with a mixture of confusion and anger. "All I know is that there's something inside me that binds me to you. I always end up looking for something in you, something I don't understand. And the least I understand is that you somehow get close and then walk away like it's nothing."

She moved closer to him and, with a trembling finger, pressed it against his chest, accusingly.

"If I walk away it's because you don't need this life, (Y/N)," he told her, with a painful tenderness in his voice. "I can't give you the life you want."

"I'm not asking you for anything extraordinary, Jaehyun," she replied, almost begging for him to understand. "I'm not asking you for more than what we already are."

Jaehyun looked at her, searching her eyes as if he wanted her to understand something beyond words. With the distance between them so short that their breaths were intertwined, he continued with a sigh.

"But look at me, (Y/N), look at us," he said softly. "I'll never be able to offer you the life you're used to. And I don't want you to get used to mine, because it's not something you deserve." Her voice deepened. "You don't know what it's like to live with necessities, without luxuries. It's not something I can ask you to change or sacrifice for me."

She bit her lower lip, trying to take in what she had just heard.

She was silent for a few seconds, biting her lower lip as her mind tried to process every word Jaehyun had just said. Her chest felt tight, as if his words were a weight on her, an uncomfortable truth that hurt, but one she knew she couldn't ignore.

Jaehyun closed his eyes.

"No, I don't," she finally admitted, looking down at the floor. "I don't know what it's like to live with those hardships..."

Silence fell between them again. The distant murmur of people seemed to grow farther and farther away, as if the world around them was fading away.

"(Y/N), you deserve better than this. Something more... something more stable. I can't be that something for you," Jaehyun said, his voice trembling for an instant.

She realized what he meant. She knew it wasn't just about the material. She knew that what Jaehyun was telling her went beyond external difficulties. He didn't want to be a risk to her, didn't want her life to be dragged down by the uncertainty, by the confusion he himself felt.

"And yet... I can't stop looking for you," she murmured, with a sad, almost defeated smile. "I don't understand what's wrong with me, Jaehyun. I don't understand why everything seems clearer when I'm around you, but then it blurs, it becomes all so confusing."

Jaehyun watched her, unable to find the right words. All he knew was that there was an undeniable connection between them, something even he couldn't explain. But, at the same time, he couldn't deny the fear he felt that this connection would drag them into something neither of them could control.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, his words sounding almost like an apology to himself. "I really am sorry."

She stared at him, as if she expected him to say something else, something that might make sense of everything she felt. But he didn't. Instead, the air between them was filled with a quiet awkwardness.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, voice cracking, but determined not to give up.

Jaehyun took a deep breath, staring ahead as if searching for some answer in the void. "I don't know. But I need you to understand that I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to end up trapped in my world..."

She denied slowly, not looking away. "So is that it, then, we're just going to keep taking a step forward and then step back? Is that what you want?"

"It's not that," Jaehyun replied, somewhat at a loss. "It's just that I can't offer you what you deserve."

"What about what I want?" she said, on an impulse that surprised her. "Because all I want...is to be with you."

Her words hit him hard. Jaehyun couldn't say he felt the same way, not in the same way. But he couldn't help but think that, maybe, if they both allowed themselves to take that leap... maybe things could be different.

"I'm telling you that I can't give you what you want," he repeated, now with a slight desperation in his tone. "And yet, I feel like I can't walk away from you."

She looked at him silently for a few seconds, trying to find some answer that wouldn't leave her more confused. Finally, she took a step back, letting the air between them grow colder.

"So... what do we do, Jaehyun?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "Because I don't know if I can keep waiting for something I don't know if it's coming."

Jaehyun looked at her, his heart pounding. He could see the pain in her eyes, and it broke him inside. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't drag her down with him, couldn't ask her to settle for something he couldn't offer.

"The only thing I can do now...is tell you the truth," he said, almost breathlessly. "I'm not going to drag you into my life without you knowing what you're getting into."

She stood still, staring at the floor, as if processing every word. An invisible weight seemed to fall on her shoulders, and though her thoughts were chaotic, a small part of her knew she had to make a decision.

"So, you decide for me?" she asked, raising her head, her eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and sadness.

Jaehyun said nothing. His silence was answer enough.

Finally, Jaehyun, his throat tightening, slowly pulled away, knowing that any further attempts to get closer would only cause more pain. "I'm sorry," he said one last time, almost as a whisper, and took a step back.

And (Y/N) watched him walk away, her heart heavy, knowing there was nothing more to do. She stood alone in that dark corner of Neo Zone, with the noise of the engines rumbling around her, like a distant echo of the emotional storm she had just experienced.

a/n: I hope you liked even though in took me weeeeeeks to post hahaha, love y'all! NOT PROOFREAD! I’ve been sitting down like 4 hours trying to come with the chapter so now I’ll go to sleep 😴.

taglist is open! if you want to be added just lemme know;)

taglist: @spicyryujin @daegalismybiasinnct @peachfulnight @gojoscumslut @bluedbliss @dear-97 @girlwholovespreppyattire @hana-off-icial @cigarettesafterjae @beomgyusonlywife @bts-iris @doejaejung @methneo @kriizztin @mrsuhnshine @pieddpiperr (idk why some of the tags just don’t work out!)

If you want to ask me something, feel free to send them!

[smilesrobotlover]

First|| <-prev next-> (soon)

AO3

Chapter 11- Attack on Castle Town

It was infuriating

Two whole days had passed since Link and Rusl arrived to Castle Town, yet it felt like no one was making an effort to come up with a plan. They had talked about hunting the beast down, luring it in, or waiting to see when it would attack again to then strike. But it felt like they were talking in circles, the conversation melting into the talk of the mundane.

Rusl, of course, loved visiting with his friends and talking to them about whatever came to mind, but not now. Not when that thing just attacked his children and threatened his home. The anxiety ate up at him, and he found himself unable to sit still at the table where everyone else sat. So he stood in the corner, his arms crossed as he glared at the others.

“So we should head to Faron since it was in Ordon last night, right?” Shad asked, staring at the map.

“No, it was just in Faron, it might’ve moved,” Link corrected.

“Didn’t sound like it moved from when it first attacked you guys,” Ashei butted in, her arms crossed at the table.

Link pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “I guess…”

“So we head to Faron?” Auru suggested, and Sheik finally stepped into the conversation.

“It seems like the most logical place to go, but we need to know how to fight this monster. If five soldiers couldn’t kill it, then I doubt six of us could.”

“Yes, but we do have one more person,” Shad said, his finger in the air, “and we’re more prepared.”

“It’s not like the soldiers of Hyrule are anything impressive,” Auru muttered, and Sheik looked away.

“Will you be fighting though Shad?” Link asked, and Shad gave him an offended look.

“Why—of course, old boy! I may not wield a sword but I have a weapon stronger than that!” The scholar patted his book, and Auru snorted.

“Are you going to throw the book at the monster?”

The group erupted into laughter and Rusl rolled his eyes. They were getting off track again.

“No! I have my head right here!” Shad defended himself, and Auru laughed harder.

“Great! So we’ll use your head as a weapon when the rest of ours break!”

“I meant my brain!” Shad stood up in fury, but his fiance pulled him back down, an amused smile on her face.

“We get what you mean, Shad,” she said and gave him a peck on the cheek. Rusl sighed and cleared his throat loudly, catching the attention of Auru and Link. His son looked down, a slightly guilty look on his face, and his fingers interlocked together.

“Well, we may have a better chance than the soldiers, but we still need a plan,” he said, and Rusl felt relieved that they were finally strategizing. He and Link discussed strategies several times, but ultimately they wanted to brainstorm with the others for more ideas.

“You fought the beasts, old boy,” Shad started, his anger having disappeared entirely, “what is your suggestion?”

Link looked down, his eyebrows furrowed. “I… I don’t know. This isn’t a normal shadow beast.”

“I remember they were a challenge,” Auru contemplated. “Having to kill them all at the same time was… infuriating.”

“They just kept coming back to life,” Ashei added, and the rest of the group nodded.

“Well, as long as you killed them at the same time, they were relatively easy,” Link said. “But this beast is alone, so I don’t think we have to worry about it coming back to life once it’s dead. It’s just… tough.”

Sheik nodded. “It has to have a weakness though. We will weaken it, keep our distance, and…” they grabbed their right hand, “perhaps we could get the light spirit’s assistance? If it’s from the twilight, I doubt pure, divine light will feel good, hm?”

Link’s eyes widened as if he realized something and he nodded. “That’s a great idea, Sheik. We’ll get the light spirits to help weaken it, and while it’s down, we’ll give it everything we have.”

The group seemed to agree with the plan—if Rusl could even call it a plan—and Auru raised his drink.

“To victory then,” he cheered, and the others raised their own, with Link simply bumping his fist since he didn’t have one. Rusl let out a sigh and pushed his frustrations aside. He wasn’t sleeping well, and the anxiety felt like it was eating him up inside, so he was much more quick to anger than normal. But he had to try to be patient—they were going to get to deal with the threat, he knew it. He just had to slow down with the rest of them.

“Alright, let’s head out then,” Rusl muttered, stepping closer to the group, but Sheik stood up.

“Not yet. I must convey this information with some… allies. They may help if something were to go wrong.”

Link and Ashei seemed understanding while Auru and Shad seemed indifferent, but Rusl was exasperated.

“What? We’re not—when will you be back?” He asked, a sharpness to his voice as his patience was wearing thin.

“I’m not sure, hopefully before tonight—”

“Tonight? Where in the spirit’s name will you be going?” He snapped. Sheik’s eyes widened in surprise and they looked around uncomfortably.

“I just have things I need to do,” they muttered, and Link looked up at his pa, a worried expression on his face.

“We don’t have time! We should leave now and deal with it before it takes more people!” Rusl argued, and Auru stood up.

“If what Sheik says is true, then we should get help if something were to go wrong. Calm down—”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Rusl shouted, leaving everyone surprised. “You don’t know what type of a threat this thing is! If we wait any longer, we could lose it!”

“Rusl,” Auru started, his hands raised in an effort to calm him. “I know, but we are merely six people… and… really it’d only be four of you physically fighting it—I may not be able to do much. We need all the help we can get.”

“But it’ll be too late! We won’t be able to travel until the morning!”

Shad hummed. “Maybe leaving at night would help us find it better.”

“No, that's a horrible idea,” Link jumped in, and Rusl let out a groan.

“I can’t sit around any longer, I need this thing dead!”

“Goddesses, what has gotten into you?” Auru asked. “You were perfectly fine this morning—”

“That was because I thought we were safe during the day,” Rusl spat. “I thought we had more time as long as everyone stayed in at night. But no, it’s dangerous no matter what time it is! We can’t stall anymore!”

Everyone looked at each other. Ashei looked understanding, Sheik looked guilty, while Link looked uncomfortable at the outburst. Rusl blinked a few times and let out a sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“I–I’m sorry I…” He started, but he couldn’t get the words out. He looked up at Auru who stared blankly at him and he turned away. “You do what you need to do Sheik, I’m gonna go cool my head,” he said softly, and he left the backroom, ignoring Telma’s confused look as he burst through the door to the bar. He didn’t know where he was going—he supposed he was simply walking around the town to clear his head. The lack of sleep from the past few nights was catching up to him, and the fear surrounding the shadow beast plagued his waking mind. He felt like he couldn’t escape it, and he just wanted it taken care of so he could finally rest. He supposed with his own children and grandson having to get involved, it finally caused him to break.

The loud noises of the town wasn’t doing him any favors, so he went through the southern gate to escape to somewhere quieter, leaving behind the shops lined up next to Telma’s bar and entering a clearing. It was empty and peaceful, with a fountain in between cobblestone stairs that poured out the bluest water. Rusl walked to the fountain and kneeled, the anxiety and anger leaving his body to make way for vulnerability. He opened his heart and prayed.

He didn’t know who he was praying to; he wasn’t exactly praying to Ordona, or the light spirits themselves. But he found himself praying to someone. He prayed that he and the others would be safe, he prayed that his children would be safe, and he prayed that his wife would be protected. Goddesses she must’ve been worried sick over them—she always got extremely upset over these things. He hoped that she would know that the children were safe, and that she wouldn’t blame herself for what happened. As he prayed, tears started to trickle out of his eyes, and he leaned forward to rest his head against the stone. He was so tired, so tired from everything that happened to him from the past few days. The beast would plague his mind every moment, even if he was asleep. He couldn’t escape it no matter what he did, and now his own family was involved—his own children.

“Papa?”

Rela’s soft voice broke the silence, causing Rusl to sit up and turn his head to look at his daughter. He wiped his tears quickly and forced a smile, and she looked nervous as her hands fidgeted with each other.

“Rela, what the heck are you doin’ out here by yourself?” Rusl asked. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I… Uh… I couldn’t sleep,” she said softly. “I wanted to talk to you and I saw you walk out so I followed you and… uh…”

Rusl’s smile went away and he sighed. “I don’t want you by yourself in town. Monsters ain’t the only thing we need to look out for.”

“I know… but…” Rela’s arms wrapped around her waist. Her pa gave a more genuine smile and gestured for her to join him. She was hesitant, but she finally joined him, kneeling on the ground as she stared at the fountain. Rusl stared at her for a moment and finally pulled her close, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as she leaned into his hug. She was never a touchy person, always hating his hugs and kisses, so he made sure to enjoy any moment where she enjoyed his touch.

“Um… papa….” Rela started, her fingers fidgeting more now. “I need to tell you something.”

Rusl raised an eyebrow and pulled away to fully look at her. “What is it?”

“The reason… um… the reason that me and Colin and Kori are here is that… um…”

“The monster?”

Rela shook her head, shame apparent on her face. “No… I mean—yes—but… it’s my fault we’re here.”

Rusl frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was… I was tryn’a teach Kori how to sword fight ‘cause I knew that there was a monster in the woods but… I accidentally left your wooden swords in the water at the spring and I went to go get them and…” Rela sighed. “I dragged everyone into it ‘cause I was dumb… I’m sorry papa.”

“Oh.” Rusl certainly wasn’t expecting Rela to say any of that. “So… y’all left Ordon?”

“Well… me and Kori were practicin’ in Ordon spring, but we met the soldiers and we showed them where y’all found the monster…” Rela sighed. “But we wouldn’t have been there in the first place if not for me. I’m sorry.”

Rusl stared, not knowing how to react. He could be angry, he could be sad, or he could be horrified, but he brushed it all away. She shouldn’t blame herself.

“Sweetie, I wasn’t clear enough with y’all,” he said softly, looking down at her. She did not look back up at him. “You didn’t understand the danger we were in. I certainly didn’t make it more clear. Don’t put all the blame on yourself.”

Rela frowned. “But… I still left.”

“Not on purpose. And I suppose I should’ve told y’all to stay away from the spring.” Rusl let out another sigh and he gave Rela a squeeze. “Besides, it’s in the past. Me and Link are gonna head out tomorrow to fight it. I want y’all to stick with Colin here until it’s safe, ok?”

Rela nodded. “Ok…”

“Wait, we’re not goin’ home—”

Rusl and Rela flinched at Kori who was suddenly behind them, with Rusl grabbing his daughter closer to him as he moved from the young twilian. Kori watched them with a bewildered expression as they stared horrified, and Rusl let out a breathy laugh.

“Spirits above, Kori. You scared the living daylights outta me!” He breathed, letting Rela go. “Why’re you here?”

“I heard Rela leave,” he answered simply, and Rusl rolled his eyes with an annoyed smile.

“Ok, no more going out into Castle Town by yourselves, ok?” He scolded. Kori looked down and tapped his feet on the cobblestone, and Rusl raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you come from anyways? I didn’t hear you at all.”

“Oh, I was in the shadows!” He answered, and Rusl and Rela glanced at each other.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Rela asked, and Rusl let out a sigh.

“Watch your language sweetie. And Kori, I have to ask as well. What do you mean you were ‘in the shadows’?”

Kori grinned, his dimples appearing just below his black markings. “Watch this!”

To Rusl’s surprise, his grandson suddenly morphed into a dark figure, diving into his and Rela’s shadow next to them. Rela jumped to her feet and stared at her own shadow wide eyed, Kori’s little blue eyes appearing to stare back.

“Kori? Since when could you do that?” She yelled out, and Kori emerged from the shadows, giggling slightly.

“Since last night.”

“And you’re mentioning it now? Do you realize how cool that power is? You can hide in the shadows!”

Rela and Kori began to chatter excitedly over his new power, while Rusl glanced around at the empty plain in front of him. The wind blew slightly, the sunlight dimmed, and an uneasy feeling began to overwhelm him. He stood up and started to nudge the kids closer to the gate, checking behind him to make sure he wasn’t being followed. There was nothing there, but he still hurriedly pushed the kids to safety.

“Alright, it’s time to head back to the bar,” he said, his arms wrapped around the two. “And I’m serious about not traveling alone in town. It’s dangerous, ok?”

“Yes papa.”

“Ok grandpa!”

Rusl smiled, but it quickly faded as he thought about the two, his babies, facing such a horrifying monster…

They were too young, too innocent to see such horrors. Goddesses, what kind of a man was he—what kind of a father was he—to let them suffer so? His grip on them tightened as he led them through the busy town, determination flowing through him. He wasn’t going to fail again— he was going to protect them. Even if it killed him.

“Kitties!”

Kori suddenly pulled away from Rusl, running to a home with cats in the front playing with a ball. Rusl sighed, but he allowed the children to play with the cats, not really wanting to see the others just yet.

“Hi baby,” Kori cooed, holding his hand out for a kitten, who sniffed at his hand cautiously. Rela tapped the ball, sending it rolling for the other cats to chase after, and she giggled as they pounced each other. Rusl wished he could enjoy watching them play, but a sinking feeling of dread made him antsy, and he kept looking around him as if he were to be attacked any second. The townsfolk seemed to be anxious as well, with them hurrying to the homes and emptying the streets. Rusl turned to the kids and tapped Rela’s shoulder, gesturing to the direction of the bar with his head.

“It’s time to go. Say goodbye to the kitties.”

“Aw, but he just started to like me!” Kori whined, holding the kitten in his arms.

“I’m sorry kid, but it’s time to head back. Come on.”

Kori pouted but obeyed, reluctantly leaving the kitty behind. Rusl was pushing them faster now, wanting to get inside the bar as soon as possible, which clearly annoyed them with his hands gripping their shoulders.

“What’s the matter, grandpa Rusl?” Kori asked, glancing at Rusl’s hand.

“Nothin’, I just think it’s best if we head inside. A storm might be comin’.”

“Well you don’t have to grab my shoulder like that!” Rela complained, trying to shake off his hand as she spun around. “I can walk on my own you kno—”

A scream from his daughter interrupted her, and Rusl moved on instinct, grabbing the two children and sprinting towards crates for cover. Behind him he heard a slam along with screams, and when he turned, the beast was watching him, snarling growling.

The beast… the shadow beast… it was here—it was here.

Was it following them?

The beast’s snarl was aimed at him, and Rusl froze in fear, the fear of that night returning to him in full force. He was in danger, it was going to kill him, he was going to die, he was going to die he was going to die—

Rela screamed again in fear, burying her face in Rusl’s shirt while Kori remained quiet and stiff, which snapped him out of his stupor. It wasn’t just him that was in danger, but his children. By the goddesses he wasn’t going to let this thing hurt them again.

The shadow beast watched him, as if waiting for him to make a move. Its black, leathery skin looked like a void against the light cobblestone, save for the yellow teeth that dripped a black goo out of its mouth, staining the stone. It didn’t look different from when Rusl first encountered it, just as horrifying as before, yet it felt far more powerful, with a dark magic emanating from it. People were screaming in the town, running like wild animals to get away from the beast, but Rusl ignored them, shoving Rela and Kori behind him.

“Rela, get Kori to Telma’s bar and tell the others to come here,” he commanded, keeping his eyes on the beast as it stared.

“B-b-but p-pa–” Rela stuttered, but Rusl pushed her away.

“Get away from here!” He yelled, causing Rela to flinch, but she got up, trying to drag Kori behind her, though the boy was frozen.

Right as she and Kori moved though, the beast reacted and began to charge at the two. Rusl gasped and grabbed a crate, swinging it and throwing it right at the beast, which stopped it before it could reach the children. The crate shattered on impact, allowing Rusl to grab a broken piece to use as a makeshift weapon against the beast. It wasn’t as good as a sword, but hopefully it’d be enough to buy Rela and Kori time. Rusl swung the broken piece at the beast’s head before it was able to fully recover, it being almost pathetic at how little it reacted from the hit. After the wooden piece bounced off its head, it turned and snapped its jaws at Rusl, the teeth smacking against each other when it missed.

“Come on! Over here!” He shouted, trying to divert its attention from where Rela and Kori were, which worked for a moment as it turned its head to look at him.

“Come on Kori! Move!” Rusl heard Rela shout, and it drew the beast’s attention back to them. To Rusl’s horror, Kori was frozen in fear, staring at the beast with wide eyes as Rela tried to drag him back to the bar. Rusl sprinted to them just as the beast charged. Rela screamed and ran away, her hand slipping from Kori’s as she tried to pull him with her, leaving him alone as the beast got closer and closer. But Rusl got to him first.

He grabbed his grandson and rolled out of the way, dodging the beast’s rampage. Rusl searched for his daughter, but she was long gone, and the beast recovered too fast for him to stall any longer. He sent a prayer to the spirits to keep Rela safe and he ran to Malo Mart, slamming the door and setting Kori down. The poor boy was still frozen, his breathing rapid and tears forming in his eyes. Rusl moved him away from the door, cupping his face.

“Kori, look at me,” he said as calmly as he could as the boy started to sob. “Kori, I need you to be brave for me, ok? Hide out here, and do not come out unless I say so, ok?”

Kori stood sobbing for a moment, and Rusl wiped his tears and readjusted his head so he was looking at him.

“Kori, everything is going to be ok, ok?” He reassured, and he buried the boy in a hug. “Now hide in the shadows or whatever it is you can do and stay away from the door, you hear?”

Kori sniffled and nodded, seeming to calm down just enough to be able to think. Rusl smiled, but the moment of safety was gone in an instant when the roof broke, and a large, black hand reached out to grab them. Rusl pushed Kori away right as the hand landed on him, knocking the breath out of him.

Rusl grunted as the hand tightened around him, and he was lifted up through the hole. Kori watched in horror, moving to try to reach him, but Rusl waved him away, struggling in the thing’s grip.

“Hide Kori!” He yelled out, and he was pulled out of the building, his grandson’s voice calling out to him from within the building.

Rusl clawed at the fingers wrapped tightly around him, and he was suddenly inches away from the thing’s face. The stench from the monster’s hot breath nearly suffocated him, the endless, black mouth was open wide, and he flinched away, only to be trapped in its grip. Panic spiked within his chest as memories from the night of their first meeting flooded in—the memory of the tight throat swallowing him down, the slime and goo falling on every inch of his body, the tendrils in its stomach grabbing onto him…

“No, no no no!” He shouted, struggling against the beast’s hold while staring at its teeth in horror, but it didn’t put him in its mouth again. Instead it simply put him in one of its back hands as if he were a worthless toy, going back to digging around in the shop, and Rusl gasped as realization hit him. It was after Kori.

“KORI!” Rusl yelled in warning as the beast broke another hole through the roof. He squirmed and shifted, but his arms were pinned to his sides, the monster’s grip tight around him.

Just as the beast was about to tear another hole into the roof, an explosion hit the monster’s left side, causing it to shriek in pain. Rusl felt its grip around him loosen, and he was able to get one arm free before the grip tightened again. He looked to see where the explosion came from, and he saw Auru kneeling on the ground, his bazooka on one shoulder as he glared at the beast. Ashei and Shad were behind him, with Ashei’s longsword drawn and protectively in front of Shad, who stared at the beast wide-eyed.

“You better drop him now or else I’ll shoot again!” Auru yelled, aiming his weapon, but the beast didn’t seem threatened, and instead returned to trying to find Kori. Auru followed through on his threat and shot at the monster again, it shrieking in pain when it was hit, but it remained stubborn. Rusl watched Ashei run to the building, climbing to the top with her sword still drawn. She sprinted to the beast and sliced at its injured shoulder, making it flinch away. Annoyed, it went to smack Ashei off the roof, but she dodged and countered with another swipe of her sword, hitting its right arm once again. The beast snarled and directed its full attention to the woman, slamming its fist at her as she hopped back and forth. It soon began to swing its claws at her when squishing her didn’t work, but Ashei was quick despite the armor she had on, and she ducked to avoid the beast’s claws. The shadow beast grew agitated, and it slammed its fist hard against the roof next to Ashei, which didn’t hurt her, but it caused her to lose her footing, and she wasn’t able to dodge the monster slapping her off of the roof. Ashei yelled out as she flew, landing on the cobblestone ground with a sickening crack.

“Ashei!” Shad shouted as she fell off, sprinting to her side as she struggled to stand up. Her face was pale, she cradled her side, and she looked like she was struggling to breathe, which made Rusl worried. The beast turned to look at Ashei and Shad, and Auru let another shot from his weapon loose, which hit it right in the chest. It shrieked in pain, but remained standing on the roof.

“How many hits is it gonna take?” Auru exasperated, loading his weapon again.

“Auru, I’m afraid you’re going to hit Rusl!” Shad yelled, but he didn’t listen as he shot the beast again. Everytime, Auru hit the beast head-on, which Rusl felt as the shock rippled through his body, the heat making him sweat. But the blasts never hurt him directly, with the monster feeling most of the pain, and its grip loosened enough for Rusl to get his other arm free. But once again, its fingers tightened around him just as he was about to slip away.

“Oh come on,” Rusl groaned in frustration, feeling his sides bruise from the grip. The beast recovered from the blast again, and faced Auru with fury radiating off of it. But before it could pounce, Rusl heard a sword being drawn and spotted Link right as he landed on the beast, the blade of his sword facing down and piercing the leathery back.

The shadow beast let out a shriek that rang out through the entire town, stinging Rusl’s ears from the shrill, and he gasped as the grip finally loosened, causing him to fall. He landed on the roof with a painful thud, his knees and ankles stinging from the impact, but there was no time to sit there as the beast wailed in pain.

“Link!” Rusl shouted, scrambling to his aching feet. His son glanced over at him, his grip around his sword tight. “Kori’s below us! It’s after him!”

Link’s eyes widened in realization, his glare turning into a horrified expression, but before he could do anything, the beast stood up straight, making Link hang onto the sword still embedded into its back. Then it jumped back, threatening to crush Link. Link jumped to Rusl before he could get trapped between the roof and the monster, and the roof beneath them collapsed from the impact. Pain exploded in Rusl’s body as Link landed on him, and everything went dark, the sounds of debris falling being the last thing he heard.

~~~

There was chaos in Castle Town. She knew from the screams and broken buildings, but she paid it no mind. As soon as Rusl’s daughter barged into the bar where she and the others still sat, they were all up and ready to go fight the beast, knowing that the time for planning was over. Sheik had planned to tell Edmund about the beast, as a safety measure in case she didn’t make it back, but she supposed there was no time for that now. She just had to trust that Edmund would notice the giant shadow beast attacking the town.

Instead of joining the others in the fight, however, Sheik was standing in her room at the bar, praying to the light spirits the same way she did ten years ago. She knew that the light arrows she acquired from them would aid them in the fight, but it was a matter of getting them to help again. Truthfully, she didn’t know if they would. The tyranny of Ganondorf was over; the threat of the world was no longer there, but she hoped that they would understand the threat now.

“Oh light spirits,” she started, the only sound of her voice in her room feeling awkward, but she continued, “I ask for your help once again, to help defeat an evil that threatens Hyrule.”

Nothing happened, so she continued, ignoring the unease in her heart. “I need the light arrows to defeat this foe. It is a shadow beast, but it is a powerful one. Please, it’s taken and harmed my people. I need to defeat it.”

It remained silent, the familiar feeling of the divine spirits didn’t appear, and panic began to settle in. Why weren’t they responding? They immediately replied to her during the invasion, granting her the light arrows that stunned Ganondorf long enough for Link to fight him. But now it felt like they were ignoring her. Why?

“Please,” she begged, kneeling on the ground and bowing her head. “Please, help me. I must protect Hyrule, I must fulfill my duty as a queen and—and as a mother. Please.”

Frustration began to build up in her as nothing happened. Everything felt easier back then for her despite nearly losing her kingdom. She felt like she could focus, like she could clear her head to figure out what to do. But now everything felt hard, impossible. Like she was trapped in quicksand that she couldn’t escape. Every decision led to a terrible consequence, where she would bear the weight of the blame due to her position. Not looking into the disappearances earlier, not spending time with her family, not building good relationships with people, stretching herself thin where she felt like she could barely do anything—

Goddesses, she couldn’t fail. There were too many people depending on her—an entire kingdom depended on her.

“Please, I need your help,” she tried one more, resting her head on the ground, her voice shaking, “I cannot do this without you.”

“Zelda.”

Her head shot up, finding herself in a dark world that was lit up by the water and the light spirits watching her. Relief swelled in her, and she bowed her head.

“Thank you, light spirits,” she started, “I need you help—”

“No you do not,” the spirit of Lanayru interrupted her, the snake-like eyes watching her. Zelda paused, taken aback from the sudden bluntness.

“W-What do you mean?”

“You do not need our help.”

“I–Yes, I do. I need the light arrows to defeat a beast of darkness—”

“And you were wise in searching for the light arrows…”

“But… you’re not going to give them to me?”

Eldin moved closer to her. “You already have them…”

Zelda paused, looking down at her empty hands. “I…I already have them?”

“You’ve always had them,” Faron jumped in, tilting their head. “They never left you.”

“I—How do I get them then? I’ve never used them since Ganondorf.”

“That is something you will have to figure out yourself…” Faron explained.

“You do not put enough faith in yourself…” Eldin added.

“And so you struggle to find that divine power…” Lanayru finished.

Zelda frowned, rubbing her right hand where the triforce of wisdom glowed. “How do I find it then? How… how do I simply put faith in myself?”

“It is no easy task…you’ve dealt with many obstacles in your life now…we do not blame you for struggling so…”

“But you must learn to be kind to yourself…you are only a Hylian…”

“A Hylian that is responsible for my kingdom,” Zelda grumbled. “I must be hard on myself otherwise I’ll never make the right decision!”

Lanayru shook their head. “You’ll simply overthink everything…you put too much pressure on yourself…”

Zelda paused, looking down at the bright water, the memory of her and Edmund’s conversation playing through her mind.

“… looking at you now, I’ve grown more worried than upset,” Edmund said to her. “You’ve overworked yourself so much to the point that you collapsed. That’s not a good thing. I suppose I… I just want to know why you’re so intent on doing everything yourself, when I’m here to… help you.”

She had put so much pressure on herself that she literally passed out from exhaustion, and her mind has felt foggy ever since. Perhaps it’s felt foggy long before the disappearances have gotten worse, since the twilight invasion…

Goddesses, everything has felt impossible, cloudy, and too heavy for her to bear. But she didn’t know how to receive help—she didn’t know how to fix it. Yet it clearly was keeping her from the light arrows, so much so that the light spirits recognized it.

“I…see…” she simply said. “I’ve always had the light arrows?”

“Yes…you’ve always had them… you just need to learn how to use them…”

Zelda sighed, frowning as she stared at her hands. A familiar, warm tingling sensation started at where her triforce piece lingered, and she nodded. She could do this, she had to.

“Can I ask you one more thing then?” She asked, looking up at the light spirits. They each nodded, and Zelda got to her feet, still keeping her head bowed. “What are we up against?”

Ordona stepped forward, with the others making way for her. “This is a shadow beast… one of the first created by the usurper Zant…it has lingered in the Twilight Realm all these years, getting stronger…”

“If it’s from the Twilight Realm, how did it get here?” Zelda asked, thinking of Midna somehow coming back for Kori.

“It has stolen force from the Twili there… growing strong enough to be able to move between worlds while staying hidden…”

“Force? Like… life force?”

The spirits each looked at each other, and the world around them began to fade.

“Your kingdom needs you, Queen of Hyrule…go, and save them…”

Zelda blinked and she was suddenly back in the room. She still felt clouded and weak, but she knew that her friends needed her, as did her kingdom. Ignoring the questions that weren’t answered, she looked at the triforce of wisdom on her hand and closed her eyes, reaching deep within her to access the magic she had. The warm feeling in her hand began again, and it spread throughout her chest. For a moment, she felt the power in her flow through her veins, a warmth in her fingers.

Then it went away.

Zelda opened her eyes to see nothing in front of her, only the empty room above the inn. Her brows furrowed as she stared at her hands, the fingers trembling slightly.

“I don’t understand,” she whimpered, clenching her fists, “I need them! How do I… why couldn’t you just tell me?”

The room remained silent as Sheik sat there, her prayers unanswered and her hands empty. She looked around her, kneeled down, and once again tried to reach deep within herself to find the arrows, but there was nothing. Not even the faint glow of the triforce of wisdom appeared.

“Come on! I can’t leave without them! I said I’d get them, why can’t I get them?” Sheik punched the floor in frustration, her divine magic suddenly feeling like it was being sucked out of her. She simply asked back then, and the light spirits answered. Of course it had to be different now, of course it had to be harder for her.

A faint explosion was heard outside, along with screaming, and Sheik finally sat up, looking around the room. She could sulk in the room forever, but she still had a duty to the resistance; she needed to help them, empty-handed.

Admitting defeat, Sheik stood up and ran to the window, jumping out and climbing onto the roof. Immediately she spotted a cloud of smoke ahead of her, with the sounds of roaring and yelling, and she took off towards it. A shop in front of the fountain was completely destroyed, with Link trying to distract the shadow beast while Rusl laid unconscious in the rubble, and Kori worriedly looked over him. Sheik grimaced at the sight, dread resting in her stomach as she watched Rusl, pale and unmoving.

“G-Grandpa–” the little boy whimpered, shaking him gently, but he didn’t wake up.

“Kori, get out of here!” Link yelled, but Kori remained frozen at his grandfather’s side. They were helpless against the thing, and Sheik couldn’t help but feel her blood freeze at the sight of the creature. It truly looked far more powerful than the normal shadow beasts, and she could feel the power—the force—radiating off of it. Memories of the twilight invasion came flooding in, with her watching shadow beasts killing her soldiers right before her very eyes, her own parents twisting and morphing into the black creatures by Zant’s hands, and her watching helplessly as it all happened. It’s all she was—helpless!

It turned from Link and spotted Kori, directing its attention to him, and Link tried to get it to turn back around.

“Don’t you dare—LOOK AT ME!” He yelled, desperate to keep his son safe, but it was in vain as the beast turned fully to Kori, who hugged Rusl in fear. The rest of the resistance seemed to be down, with Shad trying to help Ashei off the ground and Auru loading his bazooka frantically, and Sheik knew that Link wouldn’t be able to stop it from charging at Kori and Rusl. For some reason, a vision shot through her mind, one of the beast attacking her daughter in the same manner, and something inside her snapped. If she failed to kill this monster, then it was going to harm her daughter, and she couldn’t bear to let that happen.

She wasn’t going to let it happen.

As soon as the beast started to charge towards Kori, she jumped from the roof, landing in front of him and aiming her right hand at the beast. The triforce of wisdom glowed against her hand, shining brightly against her eyes as the diving light warmed her entire body. The magic was soon condensed and it formed into the bow of light and arrows, floating before her until she grabbed hold of it. Without having time to think, she pulled the bow back with a light arrow and shot it straight at the beast’s chest.

The shriek from the beast rang out through the town, the light attacking every inch of it like lightning as if flinched away from her. Sheik heard a confused grunt and turned to see Rusl wide awake, his brows furrowed and eyes wide as he stared at Sheik.

“Look out!” Sheik heard someone yell, and she turned just in time to see the beast charging, its mouth snarling open wide that almost paralyzed her in fear. She’s never seen their faces before. Breaking out of her fear, she shot an arrow at it when it was inches away from her, and it shriveled, growing agitated from the pain. Sheik was about to shoot it again, but it began slamming the ground in anger, nearly smashing her in the process if Rusl hadn’t pulled her out of the way, and she was huddled up next to him and Kori. The beast shrieked as the light attacked it, and Link got close to finish it off, but he was smacked away from the chaos.

“Papa!” Kori yelled, and ran to where his father landed.

“No! Kori!” Rusl yelled, holding tight to his grandson and following.

Before they could move past the monster however, black magic formed from where the beast rampaged, spreading right under Sheik and the others. A red swirl appeared in the center beneath the shadow beast, a sight that was all too familiar to Sheik, and she suddenly felt trapped in one place from the black magic surrounding her. A dizziness assaulted her as she tried to stand, and to her horror, she watched as the light arrow and bow disappeared from her hands. Her fingers began to vanish, turning into black squares that were being sucked into the center of the portal, and the last thing she saw before disappearing was Link reaching out to her.

[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! 💜

[avielex]

Ashes

[POV: Jordan / Professor Budd, twelve years after Protego Diabolica.]

Part 1 of 3

I didn't think I'd have it happen to me.

Then again, there were many things I didn't think I'd have, about ten years ago.

Getting to teach an elective class was one of them. Getting a flat chest was another. Getting to have both things in the same lifetime and getting to enjoy my new everyday, though? Yes, each day is always going to be yet another test to how good these actually are (as I remember from experience, kids get bored fast), but I strive to say yes each time. Always.

Well, for an elective, kids sure get enthusiastic in my classroom, so I'd say it's been a yes from the soul for most of those days.

But I'm worried of having to say no.

"Look up here, everyone."

"In front of you will be a visual of which colour of Muggle fire will be for its heat level, from coolest to hottest. If at any point you see fire being produced by a Muggle devices and you see the hottest colour, please! Please keep away for the sake of your souls. And your pretty faces."

I heard a couple chuckles.

I'm not sure I remember the pipeline of thought I had prior to this lesson. It was going to be simple enough: The science of heat. The principles and interactions of that heat with other things. If wizards will setting fire to a lot of things for whatever reason, then I better give them a reason to consider the things fire can really do and be.

Blazing hot. Beautiful. But dangerous.

Much like the eyes of Mr. Gillebrand here, a fifth-year Slytherin — unwavering from every motion I made in front of the class. He's always been a pretty focused guy, perhaps occasionally tunnel-visioning into what he sees right, but his friends behind him there I could trust to give him a much-needed bonk here and there too.

Mr. Gillebrand — oh, it doesn't matter here, we're bloody friends — Trey's observant. Always been, maybe too much so. If anything, that day, he must've seen some sort of reason to watch me extra closely during that demonstration. And I hate to say it, but he might've had the right idea.

No. Not that.

He might've already had an idea.

"As we'd discussed in the lecture last time, we'd have to invert our perspectives of these colours when we look at natural or Muggle fire," I continued, in spite of Trey's gaze digging into my face. "What colour's our coldest again?"

A deep scarlet flame hovers at the tip of my wand. The class choruses "Red".

"Getting hotter."

An orange ember, with the chill colours of a sunset. Some people called it yellow, some orange. For some of the kids I noticed to have stayed silent, this would probably be one unfortunate way to find out you're colourblind.

"Hotter still."

A "Yellow" as golden as the softboiled yolks at the Great Hall's breakfast table.

"And hotter?"

As "White" as the wisps that trail off the tattered ends of our castle ghosts' long clothes.

"Right, at the center here," I said, pointing at the white center of the flame bursting from my wand. I flick it off with a wave, a little column of smoke ghosting from the tip of my wand as I continued to speak.

"Now, it's hard to find this hottest colour of fire in nature." I hold my wand out again. "I'd discussed before that fire needs fuel and oxygen to burn. That fuel can vary from wood to clothes to... really, a lot of things, including gas. Muggles have learnt to contain some of these gases as fuel for cooking, and the flame it produces at complete combustion is..."

I flicked my wand—

And that was where I had it happen to me.

[OC CREDITS, behind Trey: Azi (left) by @praxieserver , Leshi/Snakey (right) by @cindyvonotakuuwu ]

[edwinspaynes]

I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

-

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

[sreppub]

family name passed down the generations

[egophiliac]

can't believe that skeleman has turned on us, and Halloween Prom is tomorrow.

(what a top-tier UM...we are about to be just totally obliterated in the absolute silliest way. what possible use could this power have outside of bringing us to the brink of utter holiday disaster.)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

GORGEOUS DRAWING OMG YOU'RE SO TALENTED MATE!!!

We need more Magneto protecting his Charles with all his will>>>>>

thank you much my friend !!!!!!!!! might i offer you a small gift..

and a bonus. if you will.

[orcelito]

Ok I'm thinking about kabuto backstory again and thinking about how unfair and fucked up it all is like

> be Danzo

> threaten local orphanage mother into returning to being a spy (by threatening the kids there)

> force them to send One Kid too because he "lost a man" while obtaining the intel he's threatening her to spy over (the kid is Kabuto, who volunteered bc he overheard them threatening the mother over this) (Danzo knows he overheard)

> train kabuto to be a spy while orphanage mother is off on her long spy job as well

> bait spy mom with the promise of keeping kabuto safe to keep her agreeing to work with you

> decide they both are too good at their jobs (????) Of being spies (that work for you?????)(they've been loyal this whole time????) So they're too dangerous and both need to die

> keep mom and kid away from each other as kid grows up

> literally DOCTOR FAKE PHOTOS of the kid growing up to make it seem like he looks totally different now???? So she won't recognize him?????

> give her the assassination assignment of killing the Real Kabuto (who she won't recognize) so they'll kill each other

> whoops, Kabuto survived and killed her instead, oh well at least Orochimaru's watching him now

I'm just like. How fucked up is it to threaten these people into working as spies for you "for the good of Konoha", and then decide that these people (who have given NO INDICATION of intending to betray Konoha) are too good at being spies and thus Too Dangerous and should be killed for it. But no he can't just kill them in a normal way. He had to manufacture an entire scenario so that they'd kill EACH OTHER while making the mom not recognize him (with the express purpose of breaking the kid's spirit) like BROOOOOO I know you ordered the whole Uchiha clan to be massacred (conducting genocide for the sake of 'peace') actually now that I think about it he ordered this of itachi. Ordered him to kill his own family. Of course Danzo would get off on making a mother and son kill each other "for the good of Konoha" he's almost fucking cartoon villain level of horrible past the point of logic EXCEPT there really are people this awful that have existed. Plenty of them. And they have also justified it as being "for the good of [nation]" like that's the Thing, he's a war hungry nationalist that has decided He Knows Best so he's going to fuck up SO many people's lives, up to and including his own damn citizens!!!! And this bitch thinks he deserves to be kage?!?!?! Fucking Hiruzen letting him run wild like this. He knew Danzo was stealing children and indoctrinating them into a murder cult (where, keep in mind, he purposefully raises kids in pairs so they view each other as family AND THEN ORDERS THEM TO KILL EACH OTHER)(AGAIN!!!! with the family killing, what is his PROBLEM) but Hiruzen just let it fucking happen. Spineless fucking piece of shit. He fucked Naruto up he fucked Orochimaru up he fucked up Royally with Danzo like come ONNNNNNNNNN

Rattling the bars of my cage rn at how awful Danzo is and how he was able to just. DO THIS???? I know the bitch is dead but he's not dead enough. Give me the glock.

[b-blushes]

i know it's so silly and pointless but i'm so pissed off about having anxiety. sure i have lived with it as long as i remember and yes i will continue to do things despite being scared of them as i have done for a very long time but wouldn't it be nice to not be so scared you're physically unwell. i am standing in the corner yelling at it I AM STRONGER THAN YOU but unfortunately part of me is not and that part is sick as a dog. luckily the rest of me is so powerful but god.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

it's the 23rd... you know what that means...

Happy Ash Day!

[oveliagirlhaditright]

I'm kind of sad that we didn't get the Buffy the Vampire Slayer leprechaun episode that the writers almost accidentally wrote. (Like, I guess Joss Whedon one time joked about wanting a leprechaun episode and the writers legit thought he was serious about it. And they were working on it, researching leprechaun myths and everything, and then he had to tell them that he'd been kidding.)

The closest thing we get to leprechaun in the Buffyverse is probably in the tie-in book (that's actually a "choose your own adventure book") "Colony." Where there seems to be something similar to a leprechaun, that Buffy keeps calling a leprechaun/comparing to a leprechaun. But it's not a leprechaun, because I guess leprechauns don't exist in the Buffyverse (part of me wonders if that was an inside joke about that aforementioned thing, but I have no idea. Probably not?) At least according to this tie-in novel.

[nepsah]

hhhhhhhhh i took a programming class bc i was interested in learning how to do that and i do believe i have learned that i do not like it :')

[bumblingbabooshka]

Just watched Infinite Regress and damn Jeri Ryan’s really acting her gd heart out. Also, I love how much people shout in this one.

[medicinemane]

I once was talking with my pharmacy manager about... democracy, about how while there's plenty of stupid people in the world we'd all probably prefer didn't vote, that it was very very hard to actually make a line that makes sure only wise people vote while keeping all the idiots out

And I basically said to him "think of all the doctors and pharmacists you know who are smart, well educated people, who you 100% don't think make good choices"

From the look and his face, I'd say that spoke to him (it's incredible how many smart idiots there are in the world, isn't it?)

Anyway, I make that point because it much more addresses the whole concept of... lets call it democracy of the fit

Like it sounds great till you actually take even one second to think about it. It's almost like trying to draw any line in the sand for who it's ok to disenfranchise is not only dumb and ineffective, but also super dangerous. Ah man, I'm sorry, you scored too low on this test which happens behind closed doors and is graded by my political ally... it's not like you disagreeing with me had anything to do with that

(I'd hope we don't even need to touch on why the idea that testosterone levels are a really stupid useless way to decide who gets to vote, cause if that's true then we don't even have to disenfranchise anyone, we can just give out steroids and have the best country in the world... or is it only naturally produced T that makes you a free thinker?)

oh hey just in case anyone who left twitter is wondering how things are going over there

last night elon tweeted a 4chan screenshot (with bonus antisemitic text in the OP image) advocating for only “high status males” in government and the implied repeal of women’s suffrage. Cool cool cool