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neonlights92 · 3 years

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Flip & Reverse It (I)

Your relationship with resident fuckboy Jung Hoseok is anything but simple. Sitting somewhere between hate and genuine friendship is the fact that you’ve always secretly, sort of wanted him.

And then one day you wake up and you’re in Hoseok’s body. And he’s in yours. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.

Genre: rom-com, body swap, (sort of) enemies to lovers

Word count: 10k

Warnings: language and future smut

A/N: Heeeey guys. So in the end, I decided to split this story into two parts as it is MAMMOTH. Hope you enjoy the first part, and I’m hoping to post the second part soon xxx

Jung Hoseok is, officially, the dumbest person you’ve ever met.

“You want to do our end of semester project on what?”

It is your first period of the day- Introduction to Ancient Cultures - and a Monday Morning. You’re quite proud of yourself to be honest. Hoseok is, of course, already driving you nuts and you’ve somehow managed to stop yourself from lunging at him from across the table.

“Look it’s meant to be about ancient rituals, right?” He tugs a hand through his freshly dyed cherry red hair, “So why not a sex ritual?”

You feel something like a migraine coming on. You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment of respite and when you open them again Hoseok is still looking at you with that almost smug grin on his face.

“You’re just a fucking horn dog.”

“That I am.” His grin only grows, “C’mon. I’m a senior in college and a hot blooded male. If I didn’t suggest writing a report on an ancient sex ritual it would be weird.”

All you can do is glare. The look on his face only serves to stroke your anger and you fight the urge to grunt.

He just… He looks so self-satisfied. As though what he’s just said is clever and funny. As though you should somehow fall to your feet and worship him like every other doe-eyed freshman on campus does.

No. No. Maybe once upon a time you had a microscopic crush on Jung Hoseok but three years later and you know exactly what kind of person he is. You won’t bite.

Hoseok rolls his eyes at your stoic expression and leans back in his chair.

“Fine. What do you want to do the report on?”

You answer without missing a beat.

“A body swap ritual.”

Hoseok raises a dark brow. He cocks his head to the side, and you take that as your cue to continue.

“It dates back to the Silla Kingdom. They reigned the Korean peninsula for almost a thousand years-”

“I know about the Silla Kingdom Y/N. I’m a history major too, y’know.” He scoffs playfully and you roll your shoulders back.

“Then you know about their body swap rituals?”

His eyes flicker. He knows that you know that he doesn’t know.

God. The look on his face is satisfying.

“Well… No…” He grumbles, leaning forward slightly when you pull out one of the many textbooks you’ve spent the last week scouring through.

“Not much is known about them - however there are a few reports on it actually working. One is the story of a rich noblewoman and her handmaiden,” You hear the excitement in your tone and you try to tamp it down but you just can’t. This kind of stuff is so interesting to you, “So of course the noblewoman was a grade A bitch-”

Hoseok snorts, “Classic.”

“And the handmaiden had fallen in love with her mistresses betrothed. So she performed the body swap ritual with the help of a witch doctor and apparently… It worked. They both died of old age… In each other’s bodies.”

You know the story is folklore - a fairytale spun by the spiritual to give rituals like this legitimacy - but you can’t help the thrill that travels up your spine as you recount what you’ve researched.

Hoseok raises a dark brow, “So… Why this ritual, then?”

“Because it’s different. Everyone in class will end up doing human sacrifices and even sex rituals but something like this…” You shrug and bite your bottom lip, “It will be a challenge. And there may even be limited information out there about it but… It will be fun.”

Hoseok’s lips split into a grin, “Fun?” “Yeah y’know learning something new.” You answer rolling your eyes, “Have you ever tried that? Learning?”

Hoseok watches you for a moment. Maybe you took it too far with that last jab. But fuck if he doesn’t push every one of your buttons all at the same time.

“You won’t be happy until I say yes, will you?” Hoseok leans his cheek against one of his palms, eyes scanning your face carefully.

“Nope.”

You pop the ‘p’ for emphasis. You mean business baby.

“Alright, alright fine. I’ll do it,” He shrugs, “As long as it gets us a good grade.” You grin, “Believe me. It will.”

He reaches a hand towards you and you stare at it, one eyebrow raised.

“We should shake on it,” He tells you, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “So we’re both on the same page. It’s how me and the boys agree on things.”

The boys are Hoseok’s obnoxious frat brothers. Beta Theta Sigma. You shiver. It’s not that you hate fraternities - it’s that you abhor almost everything they stand for.

Okay, so maybe you hate them. But the truth is, most frat boys are assholes. Present company included.

“Fine. Whatever gets you to shut up,” You grab the hand that’s pointing towards you and shake it once, firmly, before pulling away.

You don’t think about the fact that Hoseok’s palm was warm and big and kind of soft. No you can’t think about that.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” The toothy grin he shoots you almost makes you gag.

You wish you could say the same.

“So you’re telling me,” Your roommate Sana stands in the doorway of your bedroom, “That you’ve teamed up with Jung Hoseok for your biggest partner project of your entire degree?” You roll your eyes at the disbelief in her tone.

“It wasn’t my choice. We were randomly assigned together.”

“The universe hates you,” Sana wrinkles her cute little button nose, “Hoseok is kind of a meathead.”

Sana is, in many ways, just like you. She’s pre-med and probably the hardest worker you know (after yours truly of course) and she holds just as much disdain for fraternities as you do. There’s just one tiny little difference.

She’s also dating one of Hoseok’s frat brothers, Kim Namjoon.

You have to admit he’s the only guy in Beta - hell the only guy on this entire campus - worth taking a second look at.

But it does kind of soften the blow of her insults because well, Sana’s kind of friends with the rest of Beta Theta Sigma too.

“You can’t say that when you’re his friend.” You reply, raising a brow at the look she pulls.

“Actually I can say that because I’m his friend,” She shrugs, “He’s not the asshole you so fiercely think he is… But he is a bonehead. They all are. Even Joonie.”

You snort, “Joonie is not a bonehead. He’s the smartest guy I know.” “Whatever. The point is the two of you don’t always get along,” She frowns, “And I know how much this grade means to you.” “We’re going to ace it,” You answer immediately, “Plus I hate to admit it but Hoseok’s smart. Much smarter than I probably give him credit for. We’ll be fine.”

Sana’s eyes widen in that way they always do when you say anything mildly positive about Hoseok. She smirks and you know what’s coming.

“Oh is he smart?” Her tone pisses you off.

“Shut up, Sana.” “No c’mon you said it first not me,” She waggles her eyebrows, “You think he’s smart. Do you think he’s cute too? Do you want to hold hands with him and discuss history together?”

“Will you stop it?” Your cheeks flush because yes, obviously you’re annoyed at Sana’s insinuation - but the fact that once upon a time it might have been true only serves to annoy you even further.

“I’m just saying,” She grins widely this time, coming to perch on the end of your bed, “I think you two would make a cute couple.” You gag dramatically at her words.

“Don’t be like that,” She nudges you playfully, “You said it yourself. Hoseok’s smart.” “And you said it yourself…. he’s also a bonehead.” You retaliate, crossing your arms, “And a meathead. We barely get along on the best of days. Why would you want me to date someone like that?” Sana shrugs and sighs heavily.

“He’s a good guy,” She tells you sincerely, “He just gets a bad rep because he’s kind of a slut. But I think he would settle down for the right girl. Plus I know you secretly have the hots for him.”

You scoff, “I do not have the hots for Jung Hoseok.”

“Oh come on,” She pulls a face, “You’d have to be blind not to see how stunning he is.” “That doesn’t mean I’m into him.” You point out, hating the fact that she’s obviously right.

Hoseok may be an obnoxious prick, but he is gorgeous.

“I don’t know. I think there’s something there. Be it sexual tension or something more…”

“Try just regular tension,” You deadpan, “Seriously. How can you go from calling him a brainless slut one second to trying to set him up with me the next?”

“Because I have eyes Y/N. I’m not dumb. You two have chemistry. Plus he’s not brainless. Just a slut.” You laugh then.

“You are ridiculous.”

“Is it so wrong that I want my friends to be happy?” Sana purses her lips at your disdain, “I think you two could do that for one another.”

You refrain from mentioning that you are probably the only girl on campus - hell, the only girl in this entire city Hoseok refuses to flirt with.

Maybe it’s because you don’t want to hurt her feelings, or maybe it’s because you don’t want to hurt your own (it’s definitely the second one) but you think it’s better Sana doesn’t know.

Whatever chemistry she insists she sees is just something stupid her loved up brain imagines to make her feel better about the fact that she essentially abandoned you for a frat boy. “Look I’m not saying he’s the devil. I just - I want to get on with this project, survive this very last semester, graduate with a 4.0 and get into the school’s masters programme. That’s all I want.”

“And you will. Of course you will Y/N. You’re the smartest person I know.” You pull a face then, “You have to say that, you’re my friend.” “Maybe. But it’s still true.”

Sana stands then, making her way out of your bedroom and asking what you’d like for dinner. You reply with something non-committal and tell her she can decide for the both of you.

But her words stick with you.

Hoseok… A good guy?

It can’t be. No. No.

You shake your head furiously.

You’ve been down this path once before, and you won’t do it again. Not this time.

You’re going to ace the project, you’re going to graduate, and you’re never going to see Jung Hoseok again.

It’s for the best.

Right?

“No.”

Hoseok crosses his arms and pseudo glares at you. The pile of books sitting comfortably in front of you almost blocks your view of his face.

“What do you mean, no?” You raise a brow at him.

Hoseok is nothing if not stubborn. But two can play at that game.

“I am not spending my Saturday evening at the library researching.” His eyes flick from the textbooks to your face, and he looks less than impressed, “Don’t you have better things to do, Y/N?”

“This is better things to do.” You answer eagerly, “C’mon Hoseok. Don’t you want to ace this project?”

“Not at the expense of all my free time.” “Stop whining,” You roll your eyes and pull up the chair next to you, “Besides. This will be fun.”

Hoseok reluctantly sits down and gives you the grumpiest look he can muster.

“Fun? You’re kidding, right?”

He pulls one of the books towards him - Life in the Silla Kingdom - and groans, “Taehyung invited a model to the party tonight, Y/N. A model.” You roll your eyes at this. Kim Taehyung is one of Hoseok’s frat brothers - a poor excuse of a man if you are being absolutely honest. Taehyung is a man-whore. He wears the label loud and proud - and you hate the fact that the majority of girls seem more than willing to drop their panties for a taste of his apparently legendary dick.

“Well I’m sorry to tear you away from your evening of slutting around, but this is more important.”

You try to keep the bitterness away from your tone.

It’s not that you’re actually slut-shaming Hoseok and his friends. It’s only that you’ve spent three years sharing most of Hoseok’s classes and he’s never once tried to hit on you.

And you hate to admit it - you really, really do but that pisses you off.

You used to think Hoseok hung the stars and the moon for you. You used to watch him from the back of lecture rooms wishing he would flirt with you like he seemed to flirt with the other 99.9% of the female population.

But he didn’t. He was nice enough to you. Smiling and polite. But he never flirted. He never smirked or winked or made you feel special.

And that hurt. It still hurts.

“Y’know you should come to one of our parties some time. Let loose a little,” His eyes scan your appearance quickly, “You’re always so stiff.” You click your tongue.

And there it is. The reason, apparently, Hoseok won’t flirt with you.

You’re stiff. You’re boring.

God forbid you came to university to learn and not to party.

“Fuck off,” There’s a little more bite to your words than you probably intended, but at this point you’re not sure you care, “You don’t even know me.”

“Of course I know you.” Hoseok’s smile is devious and you feel another migraine brewing, “You’re Y/N Y/L/N. You’re twenty-one years old. You sit at the back of all the classes we take together, and you know the answers to every single question asked. You live for this shit,” He gestures to the piles of books around the both of you, “Researching. Learning. You love it all… You’re a historian at heart aren’t you? A true academic.”

You feel your cheeks heat at his description. Okay so some of it is true - you do love history and books and learning - but that doesn’t make up your entire personality.

“There’s more to me than all of that.”

“Of course, how can I forget the sweater vests, and ponytails?” His smile isn’t cruel, but it’s not kind either, “Admit it Y/N. This is where you feel at home.”

You push the book you were reading to one side, “Can you stop psycho-analysing me, please? And do what we’re meant to be doing.”

“Which is….?”

“Researching.” You bite out, pulling a face at the ‘gotcha’ look that flickers across his features.

“I told you,” He grins, smugly, like the cat who got the cream, “You live for it.”

You decide to ignore him because really, what good would it do to punch your project partner in the face on your first day working together?

Hoseok - thank god - decides to shut up, and you take this opportunity to finish the paragraph you were reading before you got so rudely interrupted.

The people of the Silla Kingdom were incredibly spiritual. They enjoyed performing rituals for almost every milestone in their life - and spent much of their time praying to their deities for good luck and prosperity.

One of these rituals, of course, was the body-swap ritual. Something usually reserved for very special or dire situations, this ritual was rarely ever actually practiced. Most witch doctors refused to take part as they believed the magic used to complete the ritual was dark.

What we know of the ritual itself was that-

“I found something important.”

Hoseok, of course, rips your attention away just when things are getting interesting. You look up, raising a brow at the man who sits across from you, pretending that the last fifteen minutes didn’t happen. As though he didn’t just basically call you the walking stereotype of a geek.

“What?”

He raises his own brow, “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”

You feel something akin to rage creeping up your spine. You want to smack him. No… You want to spit on him. No you want to pick on all of his own insecurities. Make him feel as small as he tried to make you feel.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He pouts, “Is this about what I said before?”

You’re furious. Why is he acting like he hasn’t done anything wrong? Is he really that dumb?

“What important thing did you find?”

“This is a step by step explanation of the ritual itself,” Hoseok chooses to ignore the obvious tension between you, “We should try it.”

You look at him like he’s crazy, “What?” “Yeah why not? We can include it in our project. Maybe we can even record ourselves doing it.”

Something pulses behind your eyes.

“You want to perform the body swap ritual with me?” The words sound so ridiculous you almost laugh.

“Well yeah,” Hoseok shugs, “It’s not actually going to work, is it? So why not?”

You know he’s right. The rational, logical side of your brain tells you that body swap rituals and magic are not real. That it doesn’t matter what you and Hoseok do you won’t actually swap bodies.

And yet…

“I just don’t want to do it.”

Hoseok smirks then - one eyebrow raised teasingly, “Oh right…”

His tone annoys you.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

His smirk only grows. You ignore the stupid part of you that finds that look on his face attractive, and narrow your gaze at him.

“Just admit you’re scared,” He laughs a little, “And I’ll drop it.”

“I am not scared,” Your glare intensifies, “I just think performing the ritual would be stupid. And a waste of time.”

“You’re a chicken. I get it.” Hoseok’s tone only serves to annoy you further, “Stick in the mud and a scaredy cat.”

At this point you’re seething.

“Stop that.” “Stop what?” He smirks like the cat who got the cream and you resist the urge to lean forward and flick his nose.

“Stop acting like you know me, okay? You don’t.”

You don’t get it. You don’t understand why all of a sudden Hoseok seems hellbent on upsetting you. He’s always been at least agreeable.

“Hey,” His tone softens, “Hold on. I didn’t mean to piss you off…” The apology only strokes your anger. He didn’t mean to piss you off? You scoff.

“Fuck off, Hoseok.” “No seriously.” He frowns then, pushing the tower of books between the two of you to the side, “I was just teasing.” “Okay whatever. Let’s just keep researching-” “I didn’t mean any of it.” You lift your eyes then, connecting gazes with him - his soft and almost apologetic - yours sharp and angry.

“Yes you did,” You answer harshly, “You did so don’t pretend you didn’t. I know exactly what you think of me.” You don’t care that Hoseok never flirted with you. You don’t care that he isn’t into you - you don’t even care that he thinks you’re a stick in the mud.

But you hate that he thinks he knows you. And you hate that he’s looking at you almost like he… Pities you.

You hate that.

“Y/N-” “Hoseok forget it.” Your eyes narrow, “I don’t care. I just want to do well on this project and get this degree over and done with. Do you think we can do that?”

He shuts his mouth then. His eyes are still soft, and his expression is guilty, but you don’t care.

Good. Let him feel bad.

“I’m sorry.”

The words are quite possibly the worst thing he could say to you. You snap the book you were reading shut and stand up abruptly.

“Fuck you,” You’re furious now, “You don’t get to just say whatever you want to me, whenever you want, and then expect me to be cool with it because you said sorry. That’s not how this works.”

Hoseok stands too.

“I honestly thought-” “What? That you could sit here and say all those cruel things about me and think I wouldn’t care?” You laugh, but there’s no humour to it, “I’m not a fucking robot. I have feelings too.”

“I didn’t say that,” He tries again, coming round to your side of the table.

You step away quickly, wanting nothing more than to get out of there.

“I thought you knew I was joking.” “Well I didn’t,” You bite back, “And you weren’t joking. I know exactly what you think of me now.”

And then, because suddenly all you want to do is to hurt him back you scoff and gesture towards him.

“Besides. Do you want to know what I think of you?” His eyes widen then, “Y/N…” “No seeing as you gave your lovely description of me, why don’t I do the same?” You smile cruelly, and you can feel something hot and angry climbing up your spine, “I think you’re a shallow, vein, brainless slut who only thinks with his dick. You don’t care about anybody but yourself and you certainly don’t care about all the girls whose hearts you break. You’re an asshole.”

Hoseok pauses. The dynamic shifts, and suddenly you’re the villain.

You don’t care.

“Fuck you.” He spits.

You straighten your spine, “You started this. Now deal with it.”

There is a tense moment between the two of you. Like you’re held by a piece of taut string that might snap at any time.

You think maybe Hoseok is going to shout at you. Maybe you deserve it.

Something like guilt niggles at the pit of your stomach but you push it to the side. He started this.

After a beat, he sighs heavily and straightens his shoulders.

“I think we’re done here.” His tone is cold, “We’ll talk when we’ve both cooled off.”

“Whatever.” You mumble the word - refusing to drop eye contact.

Something flickers across his face for a moment - something vulnerable and tender - but it’s gone before you can properly register it.

He grabs his backpack and swings it over his shoulder, nodding at you stiffly.

Without another word, he leaves, and the moment he’s gone, you deflate. You’re suddenly aware of the very public argument the two of you just had, and something like embarrassment flashes through you.

You look around quickly, relieved when you notice there’s nobody else around.

And why would they be? It is, after all, a Saturday.

You feel sick. You feel hot and cold and angry and even a little bit guilty.

After a moment, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Sana.

SANA: there’s a party tonight at the beta house. wanna go????

You stare at the words. You mull them over. You consider all your options.

And then, for reasons you’re not proud of, you text her back. One word.

Yes.

Sana is surprised of course when you say yes.

You’re surprised too. But you know exactly why you agreed to go. You know why you’ve stuffed yourself into one of Sana’s tiny little crop tops.

To prove a point. You’re not boring. You’re not stiff. You’re not just sweater vests and ponytails. You can let loose.

Jung Hoseok is wrong. And you’re going to show him exactly how wrong he is.

But the moment you walk through the front door to the Beta house, you immediately regret your decision.

“Stop fiddling,” Sana tells you, gesturing towards the hem of the top you keep pulling down, “You look good. Great, even.”

“I feel dumb.” You mutter, eyes scanning the room for a certain head of bright red hair.

You hate yourself for looking but you can't help it. You want him to see you. You want him to realise he’s wrong.

“Well you don’t look dumb. You look hot,” Sana smacks your ass gently, “Enjoy yourself. You look like you’re about to throw up.”

You roll your eyes at her and follow as she cuts her way through the crowd of people clustered around the living room.

“You want a beer?” She shouts over her shoulder.

You hesitate. It’s been a while since you’ve drank any alcohol. But you suppose one beer won’t hurt.

“Yeah alright,” You answer back, as a particularly beefy guy in a football sweater steps on your foot.

He doesn’t even bother to apologise, and you’re suddenly very aware of why you hate parties.

When the two of you finally make your way to the kitchen, Namjoon is already there, leaning against the counter talking to Park Jimin - a freshman and one of Namjoon’s friends.

“Sana!” Namjoon smiles, nice and wide when he spots his girlfriend, “Oh! Y/N!” His smile grows when he sees you.

“Hey Joonie. I finally convinced Y/N to come to one of your infamous ragers,” Sana kisses Namjoon briefly and smiles at Jimin, “Hey Jiminie.” Jimin grins, “Hey there.” Park Jimin is one of Namjoon’s childhood friends and a firm believer that fraternities and sororities for that matter, rot the human mind. Both Hoseok and the rest of Beta have tried to rush him so many times, but Jimin refuses to be swept up in it. So, of course, you think he’s a pretty cool guy.

“Hello,” You smile politely, “Long time no see Namjoon. Nice to see you again Jimin.”

“You too. I heard you and Hoseok are partnered up for your big end of grade project.” Your blood boils again at the mention of him, and your smile turns tight.

“Ah. Yeah we are.” Jimin smirks, “My condolences.”

You snort out a laugh. Yeah, Jimin’s not bad at all really.

“Whatever do you mean?” You lay on the sarcasm nice and thick, “Hoseok is so agreeable.” Jimin scoffs, “Isn’t he just?”

“He was in an awful mood today,” Namjoon adds, rolling his eyes, “Made it very clear his intention was to get absolutely shit faced tonight.” You feel a lick of satisfaction (and maybe a little bit of guilt) at the revelation that Hoseok is in any way negatively affected by what happened earlier on at the library, but you decide not to mention the conversation.

After all, Jimin and Namjoon are his friends and it would just be putting them in a weird position. If Hoseok doesn’t want to tell them himself, then neither will you.

Sana grabs a few beers from the plethora of drinks stacked to her left and passes you one.

“Doesn’t Hoseok always get shit faced?” She pulls a face, “That man is unstoppable when he starts.”

Jimin rolls his eyes taking a swig from his own beer, “D’you guys remember at the Christmas party last year? He used my Nike Airs as a throw up receptacle.”

Namjoon shivers and groans.

“The bathroom smelled like puke for weeks. Jesus. He really doesn’t have an off button, sometimes.”

“That sounds horrific,” You mutter, scoffing a gentle laugh, “I can’t believe you guys let him get away with that shit.”

“We didn’t let him get away with it. Didn’t you hear Sana? He’s unstoppable.” Jimin’s eyes flicker towards the doorway of the kitchen, “Shit. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

Your eyes move to follow Jimin’s and when you settle on a shock of cherry red hair, something in your stomach turns.

Shit. This was a bad idea.

Hoseok is flanked, of course, by resident fuck boy Kim Taehyung - and one of the older frat members, Kim Seokjin. You’ve only met Jin a handful of times but you’ve come to rank him on nearly the same level as Taehyung.

He is equally as obnoxious and bone-headed.

His one saving grace? Jin secretly volunteers at the Big Brother programme your college offers to underprivileged kids in the city. You’ve seen him at the middle school, on Saturday mornings, and his little brother Changkyun thinks the sun and moon rise with him.

Seokjin asked you very discreetly, once, if you could keep what you had seen to yourself, and you obliged. After all, the last thing you want is for Jin to drop out of the programme and leave little Changkyun without a big brother.

So you shut your mouth, and suffer through his frat boy persona, in silence.

Hoseok’s eyes scan the room slowly, and after a moment, you lock your gaze with his.

Shit. He is furious. His brow furrows and he turns to shout something to Taehyung over the music, before making his way out of the kitchen quickly. You hate to think it, but you know he left because he’d seen you.

Taehyung’s eyes dip towards you and he raises a singular brow, before shrugging his shoulders and turning to follow Hoseok. Jin doesn’t even bother meeting your eyes.

You feel something sting in your chest. Your heart turns.

It shouldn’t have bothered you but it does. Hoseok is avoiding you.

You take a long gulp from your beer to tamp down the disappointment curdling in your chest and try to tune into the conversation Namjoon, Sana and Jimin are currently having about whether or not it is possible to make contact with aliens.

Shit.

This is going to be a long night.

It is several hours later when you realise you are drunk.

You can count on one hand the amount of times this has happened. You never usually like getting drunk, but for some reason tonight is different.

The beer helped relax you, and then it helped you forget the awkwardness with Hoseok, and then it helped you ignore why you hated the awkwardness with Hoseok so much.

Your heart doesn’t ache so much now that you are drunk.

“Woah there,” Sana catches your arm, “You’re a little unsteady on your feet cowboy.”

You are currently trying to dance to some remixed early 2000’s EDM hit. Maybe you should feel embarrassed - both at your inebriated state, and your complete lack of coordination - but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Sana’s smile is a little weary as she grabs your shoulders gently, “Are you okay?” You throw up a peace sign with one hand, and a thumbs up with the other.

“Just peachy,” A hiccup slips out, “I wanna daaaaaance.” Sana seems dubious at your reply.

“We should get you some water.” She turns to Namjoon, who is still debating the existence of aliens with Jimin, “Can you get Y/N some water?”

Namjoon gives you a look of pity.

Jimin shakes his head, “Oh how the mighty have fallen.” You summon up the best glare you can manage, and Namjoon scurries away, followed quickly by Jimin, who brings up the possibility of life on mars for the third time that night.

You turn to Sana, and notice there’s two of her standing in front of you.

Strange.

“Y’know Hoseok hates me,” You suddenly need to get it off your chest, “He hates me and he’s never flirted with me. I don’t know why you think we’d make a good couple because… We wouldn’t.”

You hiccup again, and Sana frowns deeply.

“He doesn’t hate you, Y/N.” “Yes he does,” You feel something like tears prick your eyes, “I called him a brainless slut.”

Sana’s eyes widen. She seems stunned.

“What?” “We had a fight,” You wipe your eyes harshly. When did you start crying?, “In the library. And I said he was a heartless asshole who only thinks with his dick.”

Sana is silent for a moment. Then she sighs heavily.

“Well that was a little harsh.” You pout, “He deserved it.”

Before Sana can say anything more on the matter, you spot that same head of red hair. You set your jaw determinedly and start to make your way across the room.

Hoseok hasn’t seen you yet, and you consider the element of surprise your friend, in this situation.

Sana, however, has different plans. She pulls you back by your elbow and raises a brow.

“What are you doing?” She asks plainly.

“Going to talk to Hoseok.” She shakes her head, “No you’re not. You’re gonna sit right here,” She leads the both of you over to a ratty couch pushed into the far left corner of the room, “And you’re going to wait for your water.” You feel tears well again.

“I need to talk to him.” “Y/N you don’t.” Sana is firm, “You need to sober up and then you can think about having a conversation with him.”

Just as Sana finishes her sentence, a tall, skinny freshman barrels into her out of nowhere. They’re both knocked down, and Sana is disorientated as she stares up into the freshman’s apologetic eyes.

“Oh my god!” The freshman scrambles up, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve looked where I was going. Are you okay?” She offers Sana a hand, and against your better judgement you use this as your moment to escape. With Sana distracted, you stand quickly, making a beeline for Hoseok, and ignoring Sana’s eventual cries to stop.

She’s too slow, and before she can physically pull you back, you find yourself standing in front of Hoseok. His dark eyes fall on you, and he raises a brow.

For some reason, you really expected him to be drunk, but instead his eyes are startlingly clear. He hasn’t had a drop of alcohol, it seems.

“Y/N.” His voice is rough.

You feel Sana grabbing your elbow and you shove her away.

“Hoseok.” You lift your chin, “You’ve been avoiding me.” A muscle in his jaw ticks. He’s pissed.

Well. So what? So are you.

“Sorry Hoseok,” Sana tries to apologise on your behalf, “She’s really drunk.” Hoseok throws her a terse smile, “It’s okay Sana. Let her talk. She’s clearly got something she wants to say.”

“No this is a really bad idea…” Sana tries to pull you away again but you stand your ground, despite your drunken state.

“Y’know,” You point an angry finger at Hoseok’s chest, “We should perform that body swap ritual. You wouldn’t last a day with my responsibilities,” You scoff angrily, “And what would I have to do? Get drunk and act like a massive dick.”

You know you’re taking it too far. Hoseok’s eyes darken and you’re struck by the thought that you shouldn’t be saying things like this.

Why are you provoking him?

“Sana’s right.” He grits his teeth, “You are drunk. So I’m going to forget everything you just said.”

Your eyes widen. He’s giving you an out.

He’s giving you what… Mercy?

No. No way. He’s not about to stand there and somehow act like he’s above all of this. You narrow your gaze.

“Fuck you,” You spit, “After everything you said earlier… You want to act like I’m the bitch now?”

You feel bile rising to your throat but you shove it down. You’re not going to throw up. And you’re definitely not going to throw up on Hoseok.

“I’m saying you’re drunk Y/N. It’s late.” His eyes flicker, “Go home.”

Namjoon has somehow made his way over to you, Jimin in tow, and they too try to stop whatever the fuck is going on between you and Hoseok.

Jimin touches your elbow gently

“Hey, Y/N c’mon…”

You shrug him off and take another step towards Hoseok - nose almost brushing his.

“Do it.” Your eyes challenge him, “If you’ve got any balls I dare you to do it. Perform the body swap ritual.”

Hoseok’s nostrils flare. He’s so angry at you.

Maybe any other time you’d care. But right now you just want him to react. You can’t stand his stony glare - or the way he’s acting like you’re somehow in the wrong, here.

You hate that he’s trying to take the high road. You want him down here with you - bitter and venomous.

“I’m not going to do anything.” He arches a brow, “Listen to your friends.”

You take a big gulp of breath in. He seems determined not to let you win this one.

And then somewhere, deep inside your gut, you pull something out. Something you know will cause irreparable damage. And yet… You can’t help it.

You’re like a woman possessed.

“Fuck. You really are a loser.” The words are like acid, and they burn your mouth, “Brainless slut with absolutely no ambition. Bet your parents are so proud of you.” Somewhere in the recesses of your mind, you remember Sana telling you something about Hoseok’s mom. You think on it for just a second, and then your chest tightens.

Shit, shit, shit.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” This comes from Namjoon, who pulls you back from Hoseok harshly, “That was a low blow.”

Your mind reels.

“Oh my god Hoseok.” You turn to him, “I’m so sorry-”

“Fuck you,” He answers venemously, “Fucking bitch.”

And without another word he storms off. For the first time since your altercation began, you notice Jin hovering to the left of where Hoseok was standing. He frowns.

“Y’know his mom’s sick right? Like… Really sick.” He sighs heavily, “I know Hoseok can be an asshole. But that was a dick move.”

Without another word Jin slinks after his friend and you turn to Sana, feeling sick to your stomach.

You open your mouth to tell her that you need to leave… And before you can say a word, you're throwing up.

Great.

Could this night get any better?

You wake the next morning with a banging headache. Your eyes peel open slowly, blearily, and for a moment you’re struck by how dark your room is.

Your blinds have been broken for nearly six months. How is it that you’ve somehow managed to block out all sunlight this morning?

You groan and turn to the side, wondering if it might still be night time, but the sound of cars and people outside quickly proves that theory wrong.

Fuck. This is why you don’t drink.

You remember, all too vividly, your awful, horrendous conversation with Hoseok and suddenly you want to vomit again.

You know you crossed the proverbial line in the sand. There’s no way he’s ever going to want to speak to you again, and the truth is you understand why not.

Why the fuck would you say something like that?

So cruel and angry?

Your chest hurts, and your headache is splitting, and all at once you feel like the worst person on the planet.

The guilt gnaws away at your heart, and you wonder if it will make a home there for a while. You decide you probably deserve it.

With a groan, you roll over, reaching for your bedside table to grab your phone, and finding, instead, air.

What?

You try to find your furniture in the darkness, and when nothing turns up, you quirk a brow. What the fuck. Did you move your bedside table around in your drunkenness too?

Your headache intensifies at the thought and you press a hand to your temples, trying to force it away.

After a moment you push yourself off your bed, rising to your feet and reaching for the light switch that usually sits just to the left of your bed. But you don't find it.

You stumble around in the dark - wondering just how hungover you truly are that you’ve suddenly forgotten the entire layout of your bedroom - when the door swings open. You turn quickly, ready to reprimand Sana for entering without knocking and finding instead that Kim Taehyung stands before you.

And not only is he standing before you. He is also currently incredibly topless.

“Morning,” He holds a bowl of cereal, “How’s it cracking?”

You stare at him incredulously. And then, of course, you do the only normal thing you can think to do.

You scream.

But when you scream your voice doesn’t sound like your voice. It sounds low and gravelly and… Why the fuck is Kim Taehyung in your house?

And why is he so chill about it?

“What the fuck?” Taehyung jumps, and a splash of milk hits the ground, “What are you screaming about dude? It’s like nine AM.”

And then you notice the full length mirror standing just to the left of Taehyung. The room is still dark - illuminated only by the open door Taehyung is standing in front of - but you see your reflection staring back at you clearly enough.

And the two dark eyes blinking at you are not the eyes you grew up knowing.

Because looking back at you through the reflection of the mirror is Jung fucking Hoseok’s body.

It takes you approximately ten seconds before you faint and his body hits the ground.

You wake up less than a minute later surrounded by the boys of house Beta. Taehyung is blinking down at you - as are Jin and Namjoon - and you notice Min Yoongi too (the most elusive Beta member) snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Dude I told you not to drink so much last night.” Taehyung seems relieved when you - or well when Hoseok - sit up, “Fuck that Y/N chick. She’s a bitch.”

You can barely hear him over the fuzziness in your brain.

You’re asleep, right? You must be asleep.

There’s no way you’re sat on the Beta Theta Sigma house floor, in Jung Hoseok’s body nursing the worst hangover of your life.

You pinch yourself. You pinch yourself so hard you yelp and Taehyung arches a brow.

“Hoseok. What the fuck is going on man?” He lowers his face towards you, “You’re acting weird.”

Hoseok. He called you Hoseok.

Suddenly you want to hyperventilate. No you’re sure you’re going to hyperventilate.

“He needs coffee.” Yoongi moves just as Taehyung and Jin help you to your feet, “I’ll go make some.”

He hovers away and when you stand you look around Hoseok’s bedroom - basketball posters on the wall - a simple bed without a frame (of course) and a wardrobe the size of a box, almost.

It’s clean at least. And neat.

Shit. Fuck. This can not be happening.

“Listen Hobi, I know what Y/N said last night was really shitty,” This comes from Namjoon, whose eyes are serious but kind, “But she was just drunk. She felt awful afterwards.”

You swallow thickly. Something like a lump settles at the bottom of your throat.

You need water.

“She means well.” He continues, “She’s just a little….”

“Bit of a bitch,” Taehyung finishes for Namjoon, shaking his head furiously, “Fuck her. She ruined your night. You don’t need that shit in your life.”

“He's got to finish the end of term project with her,” Jin reminds Taehyung almost studiously. He turns to you, “I think it would be a good idea to find some middle ground.”

You know you have to say something. You have to.

Jin, Namjoon and Taehyung are staring at you. Or well at Hoseok.

You have to say something before they think you’ve completely lost it.

You clear your throat.

Well you clear Hoseok’s throat, but at this point the semantics don’t matter.

“Okay.” You say slowly. You hear Hoseok’s voice - deep and gravelly and broken up from sleep and drinking, “I’ll talk to her.”

“Atta boy,” Namjoon steps towards you and claps you good-naturedly on the shoulder, “She really is a great person-”

And then somewhere to your left, Hoseok’s phone starts to ring. You recognise the opening notes to ‘Anaconda’ by Nikki Minaj and bite back an eye roll.

Definitely not the time for that. Instead, you turn sharply, suddenly sensing the person on the other side of the phone is Hoseok.

Or well, it’s you. But it’s Hoseok in your body.

Oh God this was going to give you another migraine.

You scramble to grab the phone that has been tossed unceremoniously to the foot of the bed and pick it up quickly, swiping to answer.

“Hello,” You sound breathless.

“Y/N?” It’s your voice speaking back to you and suddenly everything is so strange and surreal that you’re worried you might faint again.

“Uh yes. Yeah. It’s me.”

“What the fuck is happening?” Hoseok sounds bewildered, “What the fuck happened last night?” “I don’t remember,” You hiss, turning slightly to see that the other boys have left you to your own devices. You walk towards the door and slam it shut, just as Taehyung throws you a middle finger from across the hallway.

He’s still eating that damn cereal.

“All I know is that I woke up this morning… And I was you.” The words sound so ridiculous and yet somehow they’re true.

“This is my literal worst nightmare,” Hearing your voice like this is weird, but you suppose in the grand scheme of things it’s not the worst thing to happen to you this morning, “What the fuck. I don’t know what to do. I’ve avoided Sana as best I can, but she’s insisted on bringing me coffee from the cafe by campus.”

You're pacing Hoseok’s room, trying very hard to avoid eye contact with the expanse of hairy pale legs sticking out from the pyjama shorts Hoseok is wearing.

“I keep thinking this is some horrible dream,” You mutter, tugging a hand through Hoseok’s incredibly short hair, “What the fuck.”

Hoseok makes a sound of disbelief from the other side of the phone, and then sighs deeply.

“You need to come over.”

“What?” “You need to come over, Y/N,” He tells you matter of factly, and you try to focus on anything other than the fact that you’re hearing your own voice talk to you in real time, “We need to figure this out.”

You know he’s right of course.

“What do I tell your friends?”

His throat clears.

“Tell them you’re going to see Jisoo.”

Jisoo?

You bite back the urge to ask who that is, because you’re pretty sure you already know the answer.

“Okay.” You feel sick again, “I’ll see you soon.”

He hangs up the phone without another word and you finally turn to look at yourself properly in the mirror. Hoseok’s big brown eyes stare back at you, and you feel so strange you have to blink several times to clear the feeling.

You’re topless. Hoseok’s abs are cut to perfection and you feel bad for momentarily ogling them.

You hate to admit it but fuck he’s hot.

You know you have to put clothes on - Hoseok can’t walk around the streets topless - but you feel weird rooting through his things. Like you’re overstepping a boundary.

You try not to think of the very horrible boundary you overstepped last night, and instead force yourself to open the closet door and pull out the first sweater your fingers come into contact with. You decide to keep the pyjama shorts on - your brain cannot currently deal with a pantless Hoseok - and slip on a pair of sneakers.

It’s an awful look, but if anybody asks you’ll blame the hangover.

You grab Hoseok’s phone and slip it into the pocket of the sweater you’re wearing, opening the door and slipping out into the hallway.

Taehyung is still standing in the hallway, just outside the kitchen, nursing that same bowl of cereal. He quirks a brow at your appearance.

“Where are you going?” He asks bluntly.

You take a deep breath.

“Jisoo’s.” Taehyung’s eyebrow arches all the way towards his hairline.

“Right now?” His eyes scan your appearance, “Looking like that?”

You try to act debonair, throwing Taehyung a smirk.

“Not like she cares what I’m wearing,” You answer, adding on a chuckle for full asshole effect, “Right?”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow for a moment.

You worry that you said the wrong thing. Shit. But then his face breaks out into a boxy grin and he chuckles.

“I don’t know how you do it man.” Taehyung’s grin widens, “Girls flock to you even when you turn up looking like that.”

“Right,” Your chest tightens at the thought of girls flocking to Hoseok, but you push it down and try to grin, “Well. Y’know me. I’m a regular casanova.” Taehyung snorts a laugh and Yoongi appears behind him, holding a flask.

“Your coffee.” He tells you seriously, “You’ll need it to get through the day.”

Oh. How right he was.

You turn up to your own front door less than twenty minutes later, pressing the buzzer and wondering for a moment what the fuck you’re going to say if Sana opens the door.

How the hell are you going to explain a very hungover Jung Hoseok turning up to your apartment first thing on a Sunday morning? Especially when the two of you didn’t exactly end things on good terms last night.

But when the door swings open and you’re faced with yourself you breathe a sigh of relief. Then a wave of anxiety and sickness passes through you, reminding you once again that you’re in Hoseok’s fucking body.

“Come on. Quickly,” Hoseok pulls you inside the apartment, and you try to ignore being faced with your own body - that you’re not inside.

Has anybody in the history of the world ever had to deal with this?

You follow Hoseok wordlessly into your own room, and try not to think too hard about the implications behind that. Hoseok is in your room. The bed isn’t made (why does that not surprise you?) but everything else is tidy, thank God. And despite all the fucking weirdness today has brought on so far, you’re thankful at least for that.

“What the fuck,” Hoseok stares at you - widening your eyes, “What the fuck is happening. You’re me. And I’m you.” He tugs a hand through your unruly hair and you wince.

“Ow.” He grunts and you give him a sympathetic smile.

“You can’t just run your fingers through it,” You tell him, “You need to condition first. Then brush in the shower.” The look on your face is absolute disbelief when Hoseok turns to you.

“You’re kidding, right?” You bite your bottom lip, “Sorry. Just trying to help.”

Hoseok softens the lines around your eyes and sighs heavily, sitting at the edge of your bed and placing his head in his hands. He makes a strangled sound.

“This can’t be happening.”

You join Hoseok on the bed, feeling your own shoulders deflate.

“We have to go through the events of last night,” You start slowly, trying to find something - anything - that might help you explain what the fuck is going on, “Maybe we can figure out a way to… Reverse it.” You feel so useless. Hoseok blinks at you.

“Reverse the fact that we have somehow swapped bodies?”

The reality of the situation slaps you across the face again. You feel winded.

“Yeah,” You conclude, “We can’t just live like this forever.”

Hoseok takes a deep breath, “After our little… Altercation last night…I got wasted. All I can remember is telling Jin again and again how,” He shifts a little, and your eyes meet for a moment before he drops contact, “Awful I thought you were. He kept telling me to forget it but I wouldn’t.”

You suck in a sharp breath. You feel terrible for what you said last night and you want to apologise again.

“I am sorry,” You say as sincerely as you can, “Really, Hoseok. What I said last night was incredibly shitty and you didn’t deserve that.”

He sighs heavily, and the atmosphere thickens.

“You’re right I didn’t deserve it. But none of that matters right now,” He stands abruptly - and for the first time you notice what Hoseok has chosen to dress you in. Sweats and a t-shirt.

God. If Sana saw you looking like that she would definitely think something was very wrong.

“I think… Maybe…. In my drunken anger,” Hoseok paces the length of your room and then pauses, turning to face you, “I think I might have performed the ritual.”

There is a beat. Then you clear your throat.

“What do you mean?”

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“I think I performed the body swap ritual. The one you kept insisting I did.” The words fall like concrete between the two of you, “I think I got back to my room and I was so fucking pissed off at you that I thought you actually deserved it. Living as me for a while.”

He gestures towards you - stuck in his body - and shrugs.

“I guess it worked.”

“Oh my god,” You feel sick again, “So you’re saying an ancient Sillan ritual that bares absolutely no solid evidence in the real world has somehow worked and that’s why the two of us have swapped bodies?” You feel lost.

“Yeah.” He scoffs, “It sounds fucking insane. But it’s the only explanation I have.”

You want to tell him he’s being ridiculous. Want to tell him that there has to be some logical, rational explanation for all of this but the truth is - there isn’t.

You woke up this morning in Jung Hoseok’s body. He woke up in your body.

And apart from some stupid drunken ritual he apparently performed last night, there’s absolutely no other explanation for this. You lick your bottom lip and stand.

“Okay. Fine. We have to go then.”

Hoseok raises one of your brows, “Go?” “To the library.” You clarify, “We need to figure out how to switch us back.”

Hoseok winces. Then he nods.

“Yeah. Yeah okay. Let’s go.”

But of course, the moment you stand to make your way over to the door, it is thrown open quickly and a very dishevelled-looking Sana greets you. You almost forget how to breathe.

Sana’s face drops quickly, as her eyes move between the two of you. She raises a brow all the way up into her hairline, and her gaze widens.

“Oh my god,” She whispers holding two takeaway cups of coffee, “Hoseok? What the fuck are you doing here?”

You realise all at once that she’s looking at you of course - because for all intents and purposes you are Hoseok - and you clear your throat quickly, trying to push down the dread building it’s way towards the surface.

“Good morning to you too, Sana.”

You try to play it nonchalant, but Sana isn’t having any of it.

“If I had known Y/N had company I would have offered you a coffee too.”

You try to smirk, “It’s alright. I already had mine.” You hold up the flask of coffee Yoongi made you earlier and Sana’s eyes narrow. She bites her bottom lip.

“Did you stay the night?”

The question immediately causes you to flush. She grins.

“Oh my god you did-”

Hoseok, of course, stops this thought right in its tracks.

You try not to think about why the thought of the two of you sleeping together seems to cause him so much disgust, and focus instead on the fact that he’s trying to help you out.

“Stop being stupid Sana,” He speaks in that clipped tone of yours, and suddenly you hate how prim and proper you sound, “Hoseok is only here for the project.”

Sana frowns.

“But aren’t you guys hungover? Why the fuck would you choose to do work on today of all days?” She eyes you both suspiciously, “You’re not hiding something from me, are you?”

You look to Hoseok, who shakes his head.

“We’re hungover. But there’s no rest for the wicked right?” He smiles and you can see how awkward it is - you’d never smile like that, especially not at Sana - but there’s nothing you can do about it, “We want to ace this.”

Sana turns to you next, eyes softening as she lifts the side of her mouth gently.

“So you two are okay after last night?”

The question is directed at Hoseok but of course he can’t answer it. Instead she’s looking right at you because you woke up this morning and somehow you were Hoseok.

“Yeah uh, Y/N apologised,” Hoseok’s voice sounds gruff and you cough slightly, “We’re fine now. She was really sorry and she was drunk. But that’s the devil’s juice for you.” The devil’s juice?

What the hell is wrong with you?

Sana sighs, “Well as long as you two are okay…”

Hoseok steps forward quickly, grabbing the second coffee cup from Sana’s hands and sliding past her quickly.

“We’re fine,” He assures her, smiling briefly, “We really need to go now Sana. The library awaits.”

You feel lost all over again. Your best friend nods and moves out of the way to let you pass through, when all you want is a big, fat hug from her.

But you can’t ask her of course, because that would mean getting Sana to hug Hoseok. And that would bring with it a whole load of questions. Instead you smile at her softly, and follow after Hoseok, watching the back of your own head as he cuts straight towards the front door.

“Don’t study too hard,” Sana’s voice follows you as Hoseok throws the portal open, “And make sure you’re back for dinner. Namjoon’s coming over for games night. And he’s bringing Jungkook.”

You internally groan at that.

When Sana’s not trying to set you up with Hoseok, she’s trying her hand at matchmaking by attempting to set you up with Namjoon’s little brother, Jungkook. He’s a sophomore at a different university and he’s nice enough but you just don’t have time for any of that.

“Uh… Yeah sure.” Hoseok throws back, “I’ll see you then.”

You both step out into the hallway and once the door slams shut, he turns to you carefully, gaze intense.

“I would just like you to know,” He takes a swig from the coffee Sana brought, “This is the worst hangover of my life.” You groan in agreement.

“Ditto.”

#hoseok #hoseok x reader #body swap #fanfic #ao3fic #fanfiction #bts #smut #fluff #angst #enemies to lovers #college #romance

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theowhy · 4 years

Text

[thiam] following footsteps

2.4k / g / oneshot

note: hello friends :’) long time no post, i just never have any free time these days. my writing brain cells are rusty but here’s a short thing that was meant to be a, uh, christmas fic but that i couldn’t wrangle into shape until now. it’s not terribly contingent on the christmas season and i hope it’s enjoyable even two months late lmao

The cold is the worst thing when Liam finally comes to. Everything bombards him at once: the bruising ache in his back, the smell of dirt and pine and damp clothes. But the cold—that chills him straight to his bones.

“Shit,” Liam says.

“‘Shit’ is right,” says Theo, a disembodied voice somewhere off to Liam’s left because Liam can’t even bear to open his eyes yet. He’d recognize Theo’s presence even if blind or dead.

How annoying. Though in this moment, it gives Liam a weary sense of comfort, knowing he’s not alone.

“What happened?” he groans, bringing a hand up to gingerly touch his temple where a headache currently pounds.

“You got your ass handed to you,” Theo says. He shifts, clothes rustling, a crunching sound beneath his feet.

Ice? Liam opens his eyes.

They were in the forest, he finally remembers. And sure enough, they’re surrounded by dark trees and a white landscape, grey clouds beyond them, a hard ground beneath. There are rocks, too: Theo must have found some kind of outcropping in the hills to shelter from the snow flurrying through the air. Had he dragged Liam under here after… whatever happened before he was out?

“Yes, I dragged you here,” Theo says, then rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, your face was obvious.”

Liam grimaces. “Did I get hit?”

“Thrown through a tree, actually.” There’s way too much pep in Theo’s voice when he says it. He points out away from them, towards a splintered tree stump in the distance. Its other half lies not far past it, slowly being buried beneath the snow. “That one.”

“Ouch.” Explains why Liam’s back is killing him. “What was it?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I got thrown through a tree, cut me some slack.” Liam gingerly moves to sit up and rub some warmth back into his arms.

“It was… I don’t even know how to describe it.” Theo frowns as he remembers. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. This big white ball of… energy. Ice. It got mad when it saw us and blew you into that tree. There’s been a snowstorm ever since.”

“Did you… kill it?” Liam asks apprehensively.

“Hell no, I grabbed you and hauled ass. You’re lucky it didn’t follow.”

“So it’s still out there? We have to tell the others.”

Theo wordlessly digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps the home button. The screen doesn’t light up.

Liam gapes. “Did you seriously bring an uncharged phone out into the middle of nowhere?”

“It’s not my fault you were out for an hour, okay?” Theo snarls. “We were supposed to take a quick look around and go back, I didn’t know some mythical snow spirit whatever the fuck was going to attack us. At least my phone is still in one piece.”

“What?” Dread sinks into Liam’s stomach. He digs into his back pocket, pulls out a mess of circuits and glass and dented metal. He squeaks, “Oh no.”

“Yeah, nice.” Theo sighs. “What is that, your second phone this year?”

“Third.” Liam buries his head in his hands. “My parents are going to kill me.”

It was hard enough convincing them to let him go on this trip to the mountains, where Scott and the rest of the pack had rented a cabin for the weekend. Ostensibly it was to investigate reports of sudden blizzards and extreme snowfall, something Deaton had thought concerning enough for them to check out. But in actuality, none of them expected it to be anything more than some random meteorological weirdness. Scott brought his Nintendo Switch and Mario Kart. Lydia brought wine.

But they’d hardly settled into the cabin before Scott suggested they take a look around before dark, just to get some work in before Mario Kart and chill. Figures Liam didn’t even get the chance to kick Theo’s butt at Mario Kart before the universe decided to screw him over and make his parents ground him forever. It’s not his fault his life suddenly became full of a whole lot more fighting than Liam ever expected, even into his senior year of high school.

“There’s no way I’m gonna try and find my way back in this blizzard,” Theo says, with the finality of a nail into a coffin. “So I suggest you get comfortable.”

Liam sighs, watches the white puff of his breath fade into the air. The wind howls in long, drawn out tones. His whole backside is wet from lying on the ground. His head still hurts.

“Yeah, real easy,” he mutters, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. First things first, try to get his body to stop shivering.

There’s quiet for a moment. Liam’s so preoccupied finding any vestiges of warmth in his body that he startles when something soft is pushed onto his head. He turns his gaze towards Theo.

Theo, whose beanie has now been placed on Liam’s head.

“It ain’t much, but take it,” Theo says, hardly more than a murmur, nearly lost to the sound of the wind. But Liam hears him.

“I’m fine,” he says.

Theo rolls his eyes. “Liam, just take it.”

“But what about you?”

“I can handle a little cold.” Theo crosses his arms tighter, breathes a big exhale that sends a shroud of white around him, thick as smoke. It hides him for a moment but fades away soon enough. His hair is mussed from tugging his beanie off. His nose and cheeks are red, and there are stray snowflakes on Theo’s shoulders, caught in strands of his hair.

It’s more than just a little cold. The beanie helps, in a small way; Theo had given what little he could. That matters, Liam thinks.

It must be that—along with instinctual, human need—that compels Liam to scoot closer until he’s pressed up against Theo’s side.

Theo goes rigid.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Liam.

Finally, Theo says, “What are you doing?”

“It’s cold,” Liam says simply. “You said get comfortable.”

“Comfortable does not mean sitting on top of me.”

“I’m not on top of you,” Liam scoffs. “We gotta huddle for warmth.”

“Sure, huddle. Not cuddle.” Theo pointedly scoots away. Liam follows. “Liam.”

“Theo, come on. I’m not dying out here.”

“I’m not dying out here, either,” Theo says, then shuts his mouth.

Liam laughs.

“Glad you find this funny,” Theo grumbles, but this close together, Liam can feel the way he relaxes, the way he presses in by one reluctantly given inch. But it’s something.

Liam tugs the beanie more snugly onto his head, trying not to smile. Yeah. It’s something.

It doesn’t change the fact that they’re stuck out here until whichever happens first: the blizzard goes away (not looking likely), the pack finds them (even less likely, given that Liam hopes they have the wisdom to stay out of the blizzard, too), or God intervenes. Liam’s never had much luck with the last one.

So he takes in his surroundings instead. There isn’t much to see, really, besides trees, trees, and more trees. The occasional bush. Plenty of snow. And—

“Oh!” Liam says, sitting up straighter and pointing. “Mistletoe!”

Theo doesn’t even look and says, “Nice try, Liam. If you wanted to kiss, you could just ask.”

Liam sputters and shoves Theo hard on the shoulder, which hardly budges him. Theo smirks. “No, dude, ugh. Christmas was like a month ago, anyway. I mean there’s literally mistletoe growing on the trees.”

“Riveting,” Theo drawls, but humors Liam anyway. He looks out to where Liam’s pointing at a bushy mass growing in the branches of one of the trees ahead of them. “That it?”

“Yeah.” Liam squints. He can see its leaves rustling with the wind, how different they are from the leaves of the oak tree it rests in. “Phoradendron villosum. Pacific mistletoe. Don’t eat it.”

“I know that.”

“Did you know mistletoe is a parasite?”

“It’s poisonous, that doesn’t surprise me.” Theo looks mildly interested anyway, and Liam feels a small thrill of victory over it. It’s not often that he gets to share some biology knowledge that Theo doesn’t already know. “So why are people obsessed with hanging it in doorways and stuff?”

“Why do people do anything? Superstition. Folklore.” A particularly strong gust of wind sends a branch of the mistletoe flying. It lands in the snow a few feet ahead of them. “Some cultures saw it as a symbol of fertility. I guess the white berries remind them of—er.”

An awkward beat of silence.

Theo says, “I hope the snow kills us soon.”

Liam’s face burns. At least he feels a little less cold now.

He clears his throat. “Anyway… It’s also associated with protection from witches and demons and stuff.”

“I never took you for a mistletoe nerd.”

“I wrote a report about them in freshman bio. It was kind of interesting. Makes it a little less romantic to know they actually kill the trees they grow on.”

“How beautiful,” Theo says flatly. “You’re still a nerd, though.”

“Shut up.” Liam nudges his shoulder against Theo’s. The corner of Theo’s mouth tugs up just slightly.

Liam’s never done it before, kissed someone under the mistletoe. Hayden came and went too quickly for them to ever reach Christmas, and there hasn’t really been anyone since. There was never any time. And, more honestly, no one else has ever made him feel quite the same.

Well. Almost no one else.

But that’s only ever been a passing daydream, one that’s plagued him in random moments. On an elevator ride back down to the first floor of Beacon Hills Memorial. In the passenger seat of a truck. In sparse texts, shared late at night long after pack meetings have ended.

In a snowy forest, surrounded by no one else.

“Hey, Theo,” Liam says.

Theo grunts and turns towards him.

“What?” he says.

Liam presses their lips together. Theo stops breathing.

A kiss would describe it generously. Liam breathes when it becomes evidently clear that Theo won’t. That’s fine. Taking him by surprise is pretty nice. In any case, the kiss ends almost as soon as it began, and Liam pulls away from the corner of Theo’s mouth. The warmth lingers afterwards.

“W-What the hell was that for?” Theo stammers—Theo, stammering—and brings his hand up over his mouth.

“Mistletoe,” Liam says.

“You—idiot.” Theo brings his other hand up to cover his face, but it’s not enough to hide the red lingering at the tips of his ears. It’s a nice color. “You are so… You…”

“Yeah, you too,” Liam says, not bothering to suppress a grin.

Theo gives him a look through the gaps between his fingers, and Liam expects him to grind out another poorly executed insult when Theo drops his hands, his eyes widening, mouth falling slack.

“What?” Liam says.

Theo just grabs him by the shoulders and tugs him back, further into their little shelter.

“What?” Liam says again, more irately. He turns to look where Theo keeps gaping over Liam’s shoulder.

He finds a great, big ball of blue. Liam’s voice dies in his throat.

His first thought is of ball lightning, something he and Mason had spent one sleepover watching way too many videos of on YouTube. In truth, they didn’t care for the science of it rather than the fact that it looked super fucking cool. Just a sphere of pure energy and light, sweeping through open plains or swathes of sky. This doesn’t feel quite like that, but on the surface it seems the same: crackling, blue-white energy, swirling in a sphere that must be a meter wide, at least. Its core is opaque, like hard ice, and there’s a strange hum about it as it drifts closer to them.

It is frighteningly close. Theo draws an arm out across Liam, pushing him against the rocks at their back. But the sphere doesn’t attack them, doesn’t whip them with a sharp slice of wind like Liam was hit with earlier.

It only drifts over their hiding spot, passing by like an elk through the woods. Calm and constellated with flecks of ice and snow. Something about it feels as old as time itself.

Both of them hold their breaths as it passes. It disappears over them, drifting over the hill. The winds calm. The snowfall begins to diminish until it ceases completely.

It’s quiet.

They stay still for one, two, three heartbeats. Then Theo drops his arm. They both exhale.

“Holy shit,” Liam says, panting like he ran a marathon. “Was that it?”

“No, it was a different big blue ice ball,” Theo says. “Of course that was it.”

“That… was awesome.” Liam crawls out of their shelter to look around for any sign of it. It’s long gone, not even a trail left in its wake.

“I see you’ve already forgiven it for trying to kill you.”

“I don’t want to get thrown through a tree again, but it didn’t attack us this time. We probably spooked it earlier. And look, it stopped the blizzard.”

“You’re way too chipper for seeing something that unreal,” Theo says, following Liam out.

The newly returned sunlight falls over Theo’s shoulders, making him that much easier to see. Theo turns his face up to the sun. His damp hair curls at his temples.

Despite Theo’s griping, Liam can see the wonder in his eyes, the way they glow. He looks alive. Liam thinks about how the blood inside him and the blood inside Theo must be the same, despite everything.

Liam says, “Hey. Thanks.”

Theo frowns. “Why?”

“For saving me earlier.” And the time before that. And the time before that.

Theo scoffs, and where Liam usually sees shutters falling over his face, a mask piecing back together, now he sees a hint of a smile. Something brighter, underneath.

“Whatever,” Theo says, and snatches his beanie off Liam’s head so he can ruffle his hair aggressively.

“Dude!” Liam yelps.

Theo laughs and whirls away, tearing through the snow in a direction Liam will have to trust is home.

There’s no hesitation at all before Liam chases after him.

note: big ice ball inspired by the leschach entite of ffxii. because..... im a nerd :p

#thiam #to you riding shotgun #caiwrites #want to say i'll get back into the swing of things but cries work consumes my life #here is Something. because i still love them sm :'(

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a-skirmish-of-wit-and-lit · 3 years

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Book Review: The Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava Reid

It's easy to understand why this book has been likened to those by Katherine Arden and Naomi Novik. Similar to those novels, The Wolf and the Woodsman is immersive. Transportive. Comprised of lush atmospheric mythology and dark mature themes that are tinged with magic and folklore, that explore real human pangs, sufferings, failures, and longings through its fantasy constructs, the story itself is one of brambles. It pinches then prickles. It cuts you open in places you didn't know existed. Its beauty is to be found in the darkest recesses, from beneath the deepest layers. The book itself features two main characters, Évike and Gáspar, who, despite being reared at the center of a violent nation-building society where they've been imbued with conflicting beliefs, with pronounced prejudices, are thrust together in odyssey. It all starts when she's taken from her village. The Woodsmen have come to collect, looking for a seer for the king, and she is offered up as sacrifice despite having no magic of her own, which is only revealed after the fact. Though the two start off as enemies, as nothing more than wolf-girl and Woodsman respectively, they soon grow to depend on each other for survival, saving each other not only from nature's elements but from monsters that live in the woods. Little pieces of themselves start to fall away to reveal something softer, kinder, and more tender behind their ideological differences. Once they arrive to face the king, though, their evolving feelings are truly put to the test. That's also when the enthnoreligious horrors and their individual searches for identity start to tick up. The prose of this book tugs readers along with its rich brutality. Each brushstroke is laden with sensuous metaphor, imagery; every new location in the plot is carved out with exquisite precision and care; and the characters themselves all shimmer with recognizable, yet mystical, qualities. I shivered at certain turns of phrase throughout because they hammered at the reality of what it must feel like to be persecuted for religion. Or ethnicity. Or culture. Or anything. I thought Reid did a good job of making that believable in the fantasy world she crafted. With descriptions that sparkle and ambiance that engages all five senses, The Wolf and the Woodsman evokes a keen sense of awareness in the reader that had me paying attention to every fleck of detail. There was a real feeling of being swept up. Submerged. Lost to everything except the unforgiving setting, the blue-black emotion, whenever I was reading. I liked maneuvering through the gory underbelly of this tale overall. It was beautiful in a tragically-scarred-yet-resilient way that felt genuine, if a bit painful and heartwrenching, in message. Perfect for fans of dark folklore! Many thanks to NetGalley and Avon and Harper Voyager for the ARC in exchange for my review!

4/5 stars

**Follow me on Goodreads

#ashlee bree's book reviews #the wolf and the woodsman #ava reid #arcs #fantasy #retellings and mythology #historical fiction #recs: ashlee approved!#read april 2021 #coming june 2021 #bookblr #book reviews

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vixiene · 4 years

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the rewritten lore of the kitsune, attempting to rectify the many mistakes made on teen wolf.

note: this heavily changes kira’s place in the show in the service of cultural accuracy and respect. if any of this information is deemed wrong or offensive, please approach me so i can change it (and learn in the process!).

GENERAL LORE + BACKSTORY.

kira begins our story as a literal fox! according to much of the kitsune folklore, all foxes have the ability to shapeshift, so it feels wrong to begin her story anywhere else. she is the result of a coupling between a young korean man and a shapeshifted kitsune, being born as a fox after her mother transformed back to her original form.

her father eventually dies; kitsunes live for a very long time, and though noshiko loves her husband, she eventually has to let him go.

ken is not kira’s father! her mother ascends before kira comes to beacon hills, where the tug of the nogistune draws her in; he is a kindly teacher who takes a liking to her and, through that, the two bond very quickly -- he has a father-like role to her, but he is not her father (i couldn’t just erase ken from her story, could i?).

she follows inari, the shinto deity of agriculture and harvest. meeting her is a sign of good luck! you are quite literally blessed when you are in kira’s presence.

KIRA’S APPEARANCE.

kira is still relatively young for a kitsune! most kitsune only grow an additional tail after having lived for a hundred years --- kira has one tail, though her mother has all nine (indicating that she is more powerful).

when kira is drunk, her tail comes out, which is a shadow - y orange colour. there is only one.

she has a natural fear of dogs! this makes her a little jumpy and nervous around werewolves on their first meeting.

her eyes glow a little orange - y when she’s mad.

KITSUNE, POWER AND ABILITIES.

kira’s mother has the ability to see and hear anything happening anywhere in the world. with age and training, kira will eventually have this ability, but she is currently too young.

in fox form, kira’s mother is a golden colour! or, well, was -- before kira comes to beacon hills, her mother becomes a tenko (a heavenly/celestial fox) and ascends to the heavens.

being born originally as a young fox, she must transform into a human woman. only when she wears a small band of leaves woven into a bracelet can she remain in human form! without it, she changes back into a fox. her shadow is shaped as a fox and, sometimes, her reflection will warp too slowly and you can catch a fox in the mirror.

she is incredibly intelligent and wise! she cannot possess people. she can generate fire and lightning and, under extreme duress, manifest in people’s dreams. once she gains her second tail, she can hover a little, and turn invisible. this will take quite a few years.

she is close to immortal -- unless she is killed, her only death will be through ascension.

she doesn’t need much sleep and is generally more content to wander around at dusk.

#[ & ] headcanon.#just trying to make kira's backstory a little more sound bc hahahaa #what we got into the show wasn't good at all

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otherworldlybooksgoddess · 4 years

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Five Exceptional Fantasy Books Based in Non-European Myth

Photo by Josh Hild

Don’t misunderstand me: I love reading well-written fantasy with roots in the familiar Celtic and English folklore of my childhood, but with the vast majority of High Fantasy being set in worlds closely akin to Medieval Europe, and a large amount of of Mythic Fiction drawing on legends of similar origin, sometimes the ground begins to feel too well trodden. There is, after all, an entire world of lore out there to draw from. That’s why I’m always thrilled to find excellent works of what I call “the Realistic Sub-Genres of Fantasy” based in or inspired by myths from other cultures. Such books not only support inclusiveness, but also expand readers’ experiences with lore and provide a wide range of new, exciting realities to explore. So, if you are looking for something different in the realm of Fantasy, the following novels will provide a breath of fresh air.

The Golem and the Jinni by Helene Wrecker

In this beautifully written novel, Wrecker draws on both Middle-Eastern and Jewish mythology to tell the stories of two unwilling immigrants in Edwardian New York and the unlikely friendship that springs up between them. Chava, an unusually lifelike golem created for peculiar purposes, has only days worth of memories and is practically childlike in her innocence. Ahmad the Jinni has lived for centuries, but is trying to reclaim his forgotten past. The former is as steady and calm as the earth she’s made from while the latter is as volatile and free-spirited as the fire within him. Both must learn to live in an unfamiliar new culture and find their places in a city too modern for myths even as they hide their true natures. It’s a wonderful metaphor for the experiences of immigrants everywhere, who often find themselves feeling like outsiders—isolated and even overwhelmed— as they struggle to adapt to life in an alien society.

Full of memorable characters, vivid descriptions, and interesting twists, The Golem and the Jinni takes readers on a journey that is driven as much by internal conflict as external action. The setting of 1900’s Manhattan is well-researched and spectacular in its detail. Wrecker blends two old-world mythologies into the relatively modern Edwardian world with a deft hand. The result is not only fascinating, but also serves to illustrate the common early-twentieth-century experience of an immigrant past colliding with an American future.

The Tail of the Blue Bird by Nii Ayikwei Parkes

One part Detective Mystery and one part Magical Realism, this novel invites readers to experience modern-day Ghana in a way that is both authentic and profound. When Kayo, a forensic pathologist just beginning his career, is pushed into investigating a suspected murder in the rural village of Sonokrom, the last thing he expects is to have a life-changing experience. Soon, however, he gets the acute sense that the villagers may know more than they’re letting on. When all of the latest scientific and investigative techniques fail him, even as odd occurrences keep dogging his steps, Kayo is finally forced to accept that there is something stranger than he thought about this case. Solving the crime will require more than intelligence and deduction; it will require setting his disbelief aside and taking the traditional tales and folklore of an old hunter seriously. Because whatever is happening in Sonokrom, it isn’t entirely natural.

This novel is brilliant not only because of its deep understanding of Ghanaian society and realistic setting, but also because of Parkes writing style. The narrative is gorgeously lyrical and everything within it is described with a keen, insightful eye. The dialogue is full of local color, and while some may find the pidgin English and native colloquialisms difficult to follow, I found that the context was usually enough to explain any unfamiliar terms. Sometimes the narrative feels a little dreamlike, but that is exactly the way great Magical Realism should be. The Tail of the Blue Bird insistently tugs readers to a place where reality intertwines with myth and magic, all while providing an authentic taste of Ghanaian culture.

The Deer and the Cauldron by Jin Yong

During the reign of Manchu Emperor Kang Xi, China is in a state of barely-controlled sociopolitical unrest. Many of the older generation remember the previous dynasty, and there still remain vestiges of a resistance movement hidden among the populace. As his forces continue to hunt down the malefactors, called the Triad Societies, the boy-emperor turns to his unlikely friend and ally: a young rascal known only as Trinket. This protagonist is a study in contrasts: lazy yet ambitious, cunning yet humorous, roguish yet likable, foul-mouthed yet persuasive. Born in a brothel, Trinket has made his way by his wits alone. At age twelve, he accidentally sneaked into the Forbidden City—a bizarre occurrence in itself—afterward befriending Kang Xi. Now, rising quickly through the ranks, he is on a mission to (ostensibly) find and weed out the Triad Societies, and he uses the opportunity to infiltrate various organizations, playing their leaders against one another for his own gain. With a dangerous conspiracy brewing in the Forbidden City itself, however, he is forced to choose sides and decide what is most important to him: friendship, fortune, or freedom. Supernatural occurrences, daring escapades, and moments of deep introspection abound as Trinket struggles to navigate the perilous maze his life has become.

This novel is like a gemstone: bright, alluring, and many faceted. At times it may seem somewhat simple on the surface, but looking closer reveals new depths and multiple layers. Full of intrigue, action, horror, and even laughs, The Deer and the Cauldron mirrors not only the complexities of its setting, but those of the China the author himself knew during the Communist revolution. By blending together history, fantasy, realism, humor, and subtle political commentary, Yong not only beautifully captures these social intricacies but also creates a narrative that is as thoroughly engaging as it is unapologetically unique.

Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel

Magical realism related to food has almost become a movement in itself, with novels like Aimee Bender’s The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, Joanne Harris’ Chocolat, and Sarah Addison Allen’s Garden Spells all finding their places in readers’ hearts. Originally published in 1992, Like Water for Chocolate helped create this fascinating trend, and it has become something of a modern classic in the fantasy genre.

The narrative centers around Tita de la Garza, a mid-twentieth century Mexican woman possessing deep sensitivity, a strong will, and a special talent for cooking. Born prematurely, Tita arrived in her family’s kitchen, tears already in her eyes. It is in that room where she spends most of her childhood, being nurtured and taught by the elderly cook, Nacha. The relationship that flourishes between Tita and her caregiver is a special gift, as it provides the girl not only with the compassion and support her own mother denies, but also with a passion and skill for creating incredible, mouth-watering dishes. At Nacha’s side, Tita learns the secrets of life and cookery, but she also learns one terrible fact: thanks to a family tradition, she is destined never to have love, marriage, or a child of her own. Her fate, rather, is to care for her tyrannical widowed mother, Mama Elena, until the day the older woman dies. With a vibrant, independent spirit, sixteen-year-old Tita flouts this rule, falling deeply in love with a man named Pedro who asks for, and is denied, her hand in marriage. Undaunted, the young man agrees to wed one of Tita’s older sisters, Rosaura, instead, as he believes this to be the only way he can be close to the woman he loves. Thus begins a life-long struggle between freedom and tradition, love and duty, which is peppered throughout with supernatural events and delicious cuisine. So great is her skill in cooking that the meals Tita prepares take on magical qualities all their own, reflecting and amplifying her emotions upon everyone who enjoys them. Controlled and confined for much of her existence, food becomes her outlet for all the things she cannot say or do. The narrative itself echoes this, by turns as spicy, sweet, and bitter as the flavors Tita combines. At its heart, this is as much a tale about how important the simple things, like a good meal, can be as it is a story about a woman determined to be her own person and choose her own fate.

Cuisine is fundamental to this novel, with recipes woven throughout the narrative, but that is only a part of its charm. In the English translation, the language is beautiful in its simplicity. The characters often reveal hidden depths, especially as Tita grows up and is able to better understand the people around her. Heartfelt in its joys and sorrows, Like Water for Chocolate glows with cultural flavor and a sense of wonder. It’s a feast for the spirit, and like an exquisite meal, it never fails to surprise those who enjoy it.

The City of Brass by S. A. Chakraborty

When I first read this novel, I found the early chapters enjoyable and engaging, but felt the story was no more than a typical, if especially well-written, work of mythic fiction. The deeper I got into the narrative, however, the more wrong I was proven. The City of Brass is anything but ordinary. While basing her work in Middle-Eastern lore and history, Chakraborty nonetheless manages to create a setting and story that are both wonderfully unique. Lush, detailed, and bursting with magic and intrigue, this book spans the lines between several sub-genres of fantasy without ever losing its balance.

Beginning in eighteenth-century Egypt, the narrative follows a quick-witted antiheroine. Nahri doesn’t live by the rules of her society. She doesn’t believe in magic or fate or even religion. Orphaned for most of her life, survival has required her to become a con artist and a thief. As a result, she is practical and pragmatic, a realist who has never even considered donning rose-colored glasses, and the last person who would ever expect anything supernatural to occur. Which, of course, means that it does, but the way in which it is handled is intricate and interesting enough not to feel trite. When Nahri’s latest con—a ceremony she is pretending to perform and doesn’t believe in even slightly—goes awry, and the cynical young woman finds herself face to face with a Daeva. Magical beings, it transpires, are real after all, and this one is furious. To both of their dismay, he’s also bound to Nahri, who soon realizes that he has an agenda of his own. In return for rescuing her (and refraining from killing her himself) Dara, the Daeva warrior Nahri accidentally summoned, wants her to pull of the biggest con of her life: pretending to be the half-human heir to the throne of his people. Worse still, she soon realizes that Dara, whose mentality sometimes seems a little less-than-stable, actually believes she may be exactly who he claims. He has something planned, and his intentions may not be in her best interest. Dragged unwillingly into a strange world of court intrigue, danger, social upheaval, and magic, Nahri quickly discovers that some things remain familiar. People are ruled by prejudices, the strong prey on the weak, and she can’t fully trust anyone. The stakes, however, are higher than ever, and Nahri will need all of her wits, cunning, and audacity if she wants to survive.

This novel was thoroughly enjoyable, and in fact prompted me to buy the following books in the trilogy as they became available. Chakraborty’s style is lyrical, her world building is superb, her plot is intricate, and her characters are well-developed. She not only frames unfamiliar words and ideas is easily-comprehensible contexts, but weaves those explanations smoothly into the narrative. The culture, mythology, and history surrounding her tale are all carefully researched, but the tale itself is nonetheless unique. What begins feeling like a fairly ordinary mythic fiction novel will pleasantly exceed readers’ expectations.

So, while we, as fantasy readers, love the works of authors like J. R. R. Tolkien, Marion Zimmer Bradley, and Charles de Lint, there is also a plethora of other enchanting books to enjoy. Exploring magical realism and mythic fiction based in cultures and folklore from all around the globe ensures that our to-read lists will always hold something unexpected and exciting to surprise us. So, if you’re starting to feel like you’re in a bit of a reading rut, or if you’re simply looking to expand your horizons, open up new realms of imagination by opening up one of the novels above. Who knows see where it will lead you? You may just discover a new favorite to add to your bookshelf. Happy reading!

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anemonenemerosa · 4 years

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27 with either wolfstar, jily, or deamus 😊

Thank you so much for the prompt. This is my first time writing Deamus and I hope I did them justice. Also the plot was mainly inspired by a converstation with @mooncat457writer, who kindly explained to me what B&Bs in the US are used for 😅

27: I run a bed & breakfast and you showed up for your reservation alone. Do you understand what the purpose of a b&b is?

Breakfast in Company

It's a bright and sunny day mid-October when Dean meets the most peculiar person to ever enter his life.

"Good morning! Please pick a table and help yourselves to some tea or coffee. I'll bring out breakfast in a moment" Dean smiles as todays only guests descend the stairs, still rubbing a bit of sleep from their eyes.

It has been a fairly slow week so far and Dean is grateful for it. His parents really needed more than a few days off and he is happy for them but that doesn't mean he would've enjoyed running their little Bed and Breakfast at maximum capacity on his own.

Quickly, he prepares the ordered pancakes and sunny side ups on toast with bacon and gets himself a cup of coffee with milk and maple syrup to indulge in on the way back to the little reception. Since two bookings were cancelled last minute, and he already sat up a room for the Irish couple arriving any minute, Dean is free from around noon to the next morning. He's invited to birthday party of an old friend in Chicago this evening and while a 20h ride seems to be a bit exorbitant to attend a party, let alone when one has guests to look after, Dean has his methods.

He is just working on an advert-commission he'd taken on when the little bell above the door announces someone's arrival. A backpacker around his age is standing in the doorway, which is not uncommon but a bit early for the folk from Otter Creek to arrive here on their way to Hunters Beach. The little B&B is situated on the coast directly between both places and very often, backpackers or hikers come in to either ask for the restroom, directions or to buy a sandwich, which Dean's mum usually sets up on a tray at the porch with a tin box for payment.

"Hello, there. How can I help you?" Dean put on his professional smile, as the short guy with a freckled face and cute smirk steps to the reception.

"Howya doin', I have a room booked here. For Seamus Finnegan?" Ah. The heavy Irish accent, however unfamiliar, sparks a warm feeling in Dean's stomach. But that's not important, he has to stay professional instead of flirting around. The guys that came here were taken anyway.

"Ahh, the guests from Ireland. Welcome" He replies politely, smile still in place. "Where's the other one, then?"

"What? Who?" The guy, Seamus, furrows his brows and stares at him in mild confusion.

Odd. "Your partner? The person you came here with?"

"I- I came on my own." The bewilderment on the freckled face turns into irritation, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

It was only then, that Dean realises he's staring in bewilderment, too, "You booked a room. Here. For you alone?"

"Yeah." It seemed that both of them don't really understand what the other was getting at.

"Do you understand what the purpose of a Bed and Breakfast is?" Dean asks eventually.

"A place to sleep and to have breakfast. Yes, I do know. It's in the name and we have those in Ireland, too." The other boy replies pointedly as if Dean thinks he was a complete nutter.

"Then you might know that most, no, actually all people come here in company, mostly with their partners. Romantic getaway and such? So, I just assumed that your booking..." ...was for a romantic weekend with your partner. Dean feels rather sheepish now and seems to be looking the part, if the smirk tugging on the backpacker's lip is anything to go by.

"I know nothing about romance." He declares, "I booked a place to sleep and eat in a good location to go for a few hikes before I head south."

"I see. Well, come on then, I'll show you to your room." Dean begins to appreciate the humour of the situation and conveniently forgets to mention that the Hotel in Otter Creek might be the much cheaper option for a single. He would rather like the guy to stay here for a bit more.

When Dean opens the door to the little room to reveal a Queen size bed loaded with pillows and blankets that match the fuzzy carpet, the tourist seems to get onto something.

"Are all your rooms like this?" Dean only nods as an answer, "Yeah...okay, I get the couple-y thing now." But instead of getting mad or irritated, Seamus just chuckles "Oh well, good story to tell Ma and Da." With that, he leaves his backpack on the floor and asks Dean for things to explore around here abroad the trodden ways.

Dean, mentally prepared for a drama, is pleasantly surprised by the unbothered way of the boy and points him to some of his favourite places, which he never does with tourists. Usually, Dean is rather protective of his quiet spots.

oOo

It is 3 in the morning when Dean comes back from the party in Chicago, stepping out of the fireplace and dusting himself off with a quick spell. The house is silent except for a very weird buzzing sound that is muffled almost immediately. Maybe someone forgot to silence their phone for the night.

oOo

The other guests are long gone for a daytrip when Seamus makes his first appearance downstairs in the morning. He leans over the reception with an odd expression on his face. Not unfriendly but odd, nonetheless. "Keep me company for breakfast?"

It's unlike Dean, but he has absolutely no idea how to read the boy. What he knows, however, is that he never met someone like Seamus. "Sure thing. What kind of a host would I be to leave you all on your own?"

They get along incredibly well and time flies by in a whirl of laughter, funny anecdotes and interesting stories about the wildlife in Ireland and Maine.

"Seamus, why did you come to Acadia National Park, of all the parks in the US?" Dean asks. He switched to herbal tea after three cups of coffee.

"Oh, come on, you live here." Seamus exclaims while kicking Dean's shin playfully under the table, "There is no way you haven't looked properly! It's so nice here with the forest blending into the coastline. Also, I'm on quite a long trip and try to get to see all the big National Parks like Yellowstone, Yosemite, Grand Canyon and Mesa Verde."

The topic changes at the mention of Mesa Verde to ancient cultures and folklore, Irish folklore eventually. They keep on chatting and bantering until Seamus begins to make some weird remarks with ill-disguised hints of witchcraft in Ireland, always glancing at him, looking for something. He couldn't possibly know. Could he?

Dean takes a nervous sip from his tea, completely at loss on what to do and tries to excuse himself under the pretence of the tea gone cold just to hide out and think. Should he call the MACUSA? Restrain Seamus? Obliviate the boy himself?

But before he even gets up, Seamus holds him back at his arm, "I gotcha." and stares at the cup, which sets on fire immediately. With a shout both boys jump away from the table and with another sharp glance, Seamus extinguishes the fire... by blowing up the whole table. Dean is frozen in place and stares at the scene, comprehending. Seamus, who turned very red in the face, keeps apologising as he pulls a wand out of his pocket and restores the mess.

"You- you are a wizard." Dean mumbles from where he plopped down on his chair again, still a bit perplexed.

"Yep, just like you." Seamus offers with a smile, completely unperturbed by the recent explosion.

"How did you know?" Dean's brain is focusing on the important questions again.

"Well," Seamus leans back on his chair with the disarming smirk of his on his face, "firstly, your place is connected to the Floo. And then, I've got this." He announces proudly and places a golden object on the table. "It's a recommendation of a former teacher of mine at Hogwarts. Bit of a nutter, even known as Mad Eye, but this thing detects magic that is worked around you and I figured it's practical on travels. It went on when you came back tonight." That was the humming! "I got really excited when I realised that you must be the wizard here. I've never met one from outside the British Isles."

"And you thought it's a good idea to set my stuff on fire to tell me?" Dean jokes and has the pleasure to witness the blush returning to the other boy's face within seconds.

"Nah... I just... I should give up on wandless magic altogether, honestly, this always happens." The backpacker waves a dismissive hand, but the blush stays in place.

"Always?"

"More often than not." Seamus admits and takes a deep breath before continuing, "Especially when uh.... when I like someone."

"Is that so?" Dean could swear that his heart just skipped a beat while a giddy feeling settled in his stomach.

"Apparently."

"Well, then keep it together, we can't have you constantly blowing things up on our date."

#deamus #dean thomas #seamus finnigan #harry potter fanfiction

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princess-mei · 3 years

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Mei 美美 Qin – Character Sheet

it’s like everything you say is a sweet revelation / all i wanna do is get into your head / yeah we could stay alone, you and me and this temptation / sipping on your lips, hanging on by a thread, baby

late night watching television / but how’d we get in this position / it’s way too soon, i know this isn’t love (no) / but i need to tell you something

i really really really really really really like you / and i want you, do you want me, do you want me too?

Archetype — The Explorer Birthday — July 9th, 2002 Zodiac Sign — Year of the Horse, Rising Leo, Sun in Cancer, Moon in Cancer MBTI — ENFP Enneagram — 2, the Helper Temperament — Sanguine Hogwarts House — Gryffindor Moral Alignment — Chaotic Good Primary Vice — Lust Primary Virtue — Charity Element — Water/Fire (she’s a Water Horse, so she definitely identifies with that but in Western tradition she is Fire.)

Overview:

Mother — Tanya Qin Father — Peng Qin Mother’s Occupation — Editor-in-Chief of the San Francisco Chronicle Father’s Occupation — financial diviner Family Finances — wealthy Birth Order — middle Brothers — none Sisters — Ting-Ting (Gemma Chan, May 13, 1993), Su (January 22, 2003) Other Close Family — close to their mother’s side, father’s side lives in China, but they’ve taken trips to see them once or twice. do not have any cousins/aunts/uncles, but close to their grandparents. Best Friend — Daisy Zanetti, they grew up together. Met in school and were thick as thieves right away. Daisy is a half-fairy, so they both understood the whole “half” background thing. Other Friends — Lots and lots of friends~ Enemies — There was probably like one Mean Girl that Mei was always antagonizing and who was always antagonizing her. Pets — None. Home Life During Childhood — Relatively happy. Has nice, loving parents. Did a lot of Family Activities, since that was important. Mother was busy a lot with work, but her father was around a lot and Ting-Ting was always around (until she went to school.) Town or City Name(s) — San Francisco, CA What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — Posters everywhere! Very personalized and customized. Lots of reds and golds. Probably had like one of those net things around her bed. Always very messy, because Mei starts a project and then just jumps to the next. Lots of natural light too probably. Any Sports or Clubs — Dance and Gymnastics. Mei has kept up with both of these throughout the year. Does both ballet and hip hop. Her favorite gymnastics is rhythmics. Favorite Toy or Game — She wouldn’t consider it a toy or game, of course, but loves doing tarot and tea readings. Also enjoys a good board game, is very competitive though. Schooling — Public school. Favorite Subject — Physical Education ?? Maybe literature. Art classes… Popular or Loner — Decently popular. She wasn’t one of the people that everyone knew but she had a wide circle of friends. Important Experiences or Events — Discovering she had divination skills. Deciding her specialization. Moving to Swynlake! Nationality — American Culture — Chinese-American Religion and beliefs — Spiritual, borrowing from a spread of Taoism, Buddhism, Chinese folklore, and Confucianism.

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim — Cheng Xiao Complexion — Fair-skinned Hair Colour — Naturally a dark brown, but she dyes it a lot! Eye Colour — Dark brown. Height — 5’6 Build — Athletic, but slim. Tattoos — None. Piercings — Ears. Common Hairstyle — Likes to braid it or put it in two buns. Does a lot of half-up/half-down hairstyles. Clothing Style — Chic and trendy, lots of colors and patterns. Mannerisms — Very bouncy, doesn’t sit still much. Twirls her hair around her finger a lot. Usual Expression —

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — Pretty healthy! I’m sure this is due to Ting-Ting constantly balancing her Yin-Yang Physical Ailments — None. Neurological Conditions — None. Allergies — None! Grooming Habits — Rather good. Takes a lot of care with her appearance. Always makes sure to moisturize and exfoliate and change out of sweaty clothes. Sleeping Habits — Average. Eating Habits — Eats a lot because Su is constantly making things, but can forget meals if she is distracted or concentrating. Exercise Habits — Exercises a lot! Does all sorts of things like pilates and swimming and jogging. Emotional Stability — I give her a 7/10, she loses points for being a stubborn, unreasonable teenager and for her temper, but otherwise is pretty even-keeled. Body Temperature — Average. Sociability — Very social! Loves surrounding herself with people. Addictions — Love? Drug Use — None, we will see. Alcohol Use — Has gone to parties where she’s drank before, but not often.

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — Interrupting people, bouncing from topic to topic, meddling in things that she shouldn’t, talking back, being a general nuisance. Good Habits — Very kind, very caring. Wants to take care of all her people. Strong moral compass. Best Characteristic — Her certainty. Worst Characteristic — Her stubbornness. Worst Memory — Being told she would have to move to Swynlake. Best Memory — When her father told her that he was proud of her for completing her studies for being a sorcerer and accepting an apprenticeship. Proud of — Her magic, her family history, her looks, her sporting ability. Embarrassed by — Not much, probably the fact she isn’t very good at school. Driving Style — Probably was just learning how to drive. A speed demon, but surprisingly a good driver. Strong Points — Her moral center and her big heart. Temperament — Can be explosive, but general soft and sweet. Attitude — Generally positive. Weakness — Not knowing what she wants. Fears — Not knowing what she’s going to do with her life. Phobias — Anything unlucky, though I wouldn’t call it a phobia, more of a cautious regard. Secrets — None really? She doesn’t keep much from people. She’s very “This Is Who I am. Fight Me.” Regrets — Having to leave Swynlake. Feels Vulnerable When — People are angry or upset with her, she’s not following her heart. Pet Peeves — Being told she’s wrong, lol. Conflicts — Duty to Family v Duty to Heart Motivation — Following her heart. Short Term Goals and Hopes — Make friends and something out of her life in Swynlake. Long Term Goals and Hopes — Figure out what she wants to do with her life. Sexuality — As-is she is straight, but this can change. Day or Night Person — Day Introvert or Extrovert — Extrovert. Optimist or Pessimist — Optimist except she can be really sour when things don’t go her way.

Likes and Styles:

Music — Oh, gosh–where to start? Mei loves love songs, of course. Big fan of Elton John, Elvis Presley, Celine Dion, etc etc. She also loves modern stuff, of course. Taylor Swift, Carly Rae Jepsen, Ed Sheeran…if she’s really feeling it some Florence and the Machine. Loves KPop too. I’ll let Lauryl tell me who she stans. (Is that the phrase I feel like there is a phrase.) Anyway, anything that is love related, she’ll give it a listen. Books — Doesn’t actually like reading that much, tbh. Doesn’t hold her interest. Magazines — Do people read magazines anymore? Does Buzzfeed count as a magazine? Probably giggles over Cosmopolitan. Foods — Sweets! Chocolate is her favorite, but she likes licorice a lot too. Is one of those weird people that likes black licorice. Also, loves a good rice pudding. That’s probably her favorite dessert. She also loves chicken, any kind of chicken–she doesn’t care what you put it in or what you put on it. Isn’t much of a picky eater. Actually really enjoys being adventurous with her food. Drinks — Green tea, green tea, green tea! Mei loves tea, especially iced. She also surprisingly likes salt soda water–she goes back and forth on sweet and savory. Sometimes, she just really wants salt soda water because it is just crisp and refreshing and wakes her back-up and reorients her yin-yang when she needs it. Animals — Elephants! Mei loves elephants. She’s that girl that has like elephant shirts and an elephant backpack and an elephant stuffed animal probably. They have such a high emotional capacity and Mei really respects them for this. They are also just so cute with their floppy ears and their soft, sweet eyes! Loves birds too as most of them are symbols of good luck and good tidings–besides owls, which are harbingers of death. Sports — Gymnastics and dance. Social Issues — Magick Rights is the biggest one. Also feminism. Also all the “main” issues. Favorite Saying — “Better to light a candle, than to curse the darkness” - Chinese Proverb Color — Golds, yellows, reds, blues are her favourites. She loves gold because it is a Classy color. Most of her jewelry is gold. She loves yellow because it is bright and happy! Red is lucky in Chinese culture and it always reminds her of times like New Year’s! Also, it is the color of passion and love. Blues she likes because they are calming and gentle. These are her lucky colors. She also loves pink, even though it is technically a color that she should avoid. Really hates white, because she doesn’t like what a blank slate it is. Also, hates brown because it is an icky boring color. As you can see, she has a lot of Opinions on colors. Clothing —Chic and trendy, lots of colors and patterns. Jewelry — Loves it! Wears mostly gold. Probably has a few staple pieces but then exchanges things depending on her mood. Websites — Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter etc etc TV Shows — CW shows and K/Cdramas Movies — All the great love classics: Gone with the Wind, the Titanic, When Harry Met Sally, Roman Holiday, all of Audrey Hepburn probably, the Notebook, Singing in the Rain…I could go on and on. She loves movies that tug at the heart strings and are full of that wild, amazing, passionate kind of love. They always make her swoon and if she is choosing a movie for movie night, you know it’s gonna be a romantic tearjerker. Though, she also likes romcoms. Doesn’t like action movies or horror movies or anything too intense, they freak her out Greatest Want — To figure out what to do with her life. Greatest Need — To grow up and learn things aren’t all about her, lmao.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — A three bedroom apartment with Ting-Ting and Su. Household furnishings — Rather plain at the moment, but will probably grow cozy as they settle in. Favorite Possession — Her pseudogrimoire where she writes down all the signs and stuff that she sees and puzzles out the meaning to. Most Cherished Possession — Her wand, which is a fan that was her mother’s, her mother gave it to her and her father and Ting-Ting help her imbibe it with magic. Neighborhood — Tortuga Place Married Before — No Significant Other Before — Non-serious boyfriends and Serious crushes Children — She iS a child Relationship with Family — Very close with her dad, even though he’s always yelling at her and being disappointed in her. They have a lot in common and she loves him. Her and her mother also get along more or less, she’s less stringent than her dad. Ting-Ting and her probably have the most contentious relationship, but even that hasn’t been that bad really. Mostly Mei being a nosy, annoying little sister. It will get more intense now that Ting-Ting is the authority figure and Mei is pissed about their situation. Su and Mei get along more or less well, they annoy each other, as sisters are wont to do, but Mei would def consider Su one of her best friends. Car — None. Career — Student Dream Career — She doesn’t know !! Dream Life — Married, with children, though she doesn’t know what she wants out of a career. Love Life — Nonexistant, which pisses her off. Talents or Skills — Excellent gymnast and very good with her magic. Intelligence Level — Decently intelligent, has street smarts, tbh. Very sharp in conversation. Finances — Wealthy

#about #character sheet #inspiration #part of me wanted to change some of this #but no #preserve the integrity

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 5 years

Conversation

How do I feel about Eurovision 2020 songs, shortly summarized.

Albania: every telenovela wants this as its soundtrack now

Armenia: ritch bitch raps intimidatingly about how she wants to "chainsaw you", adds a lot of hi-hats

Australia: clown ballerina being hurdled around by anxiety

Austria: when everyone forgets you, bring on a banger. trust me, it works

Azerbaijan: San Marino did it better

Belarus: that's just a nickelback store "Like It"

Belgium: that one song you hear in the movie during a grim scene that you forget the name of

Bulgaria: the one song Billie Eilish wished she wrote

Croatia: so generic it's hard to remember

Cyprus: it's titled "Running" to influence gym people to run on treadmills faster

Czech Republic: where begone the trumpets?! :(

Denmark: the summer love song written by the campfire

Estonia: the unexplored angle of being a boyband solo reject

Finland: if it was a color it'd be faint seagreen... because it's too okay to have any meaning

France: how many keychanges until I lose my will to live?

Georgia: how do I want you to make khinkali like a Georgian

Germany: wanting some of those Luca Hänni royalties

Greece: the quality of this song is like that cat stuck in the tree, but no one cared to save it

Iceland: SWEATERS! DISCO! CUTE SONG ABOUT CHILD!

Ireland: Avril Lavigne meets P!nk meets Disney Channel

Israel: when Amharic is not just for satanic Twitter memes

Italy: once in a while it's excused they didn't choose anything other than some male heartstrings-tugging ballad

Latvia: that dubstep drop you forgot to delete from your computer in 2010

Lithuania: middle aged man contemplates being middle aged, dances, dances some more

Malta: when X Factor runs out of inspirational background music

Moldova: genetically modified Sergey Lazarev's Eurovision entries

The Netherlands: you don't know how good is it until it kicks off that one last chorus

North Macedonia: walk into the club like wait nevermind can I go home

Norway: what's a Eurovision without a female powerballad... wait nevermind, she doesn't scream, jury can't vote this

Poland: sorry but Billie Eilish did record a Bond theme while being 17, and she didn't even need to sound very Bond-sy either

Portugal: a garden full of love, flowers, and occasional pixie dust

Romania: Bulgaria's confused sister

Russia: "Mom I want a latino club banger!" "We have latino club banger at home *chugs vodka*"

San Marino: if Ralph Siegel was asked to re-write "What's the Pressure"

Serbia: what if I told you that Sanja Vučić is the Terminator

Slovenia: here's a way to make Iceland 2017 more boring and time-wasting

Spain: when you're asking for forgiveness from that one bae that doesn't even care about you

Sweden: and you said they'll never send women!

Switzerland: the ultimate sadboi

Ukraine: takes the baton from Tulia for to continue the tradition of starting cults from folklore culture

United Kingdom: when everyone only comes for Wim Hof but doesn't vote the UK anyway because he's not allowed on stage

#eurovision 2020 #my opinion #please forgive #uwun't #esc 2020 #eurovision #eurovision song contest

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un-pearable · 4 years

Text

A City of Strangers

Hyrule and some thoughts about Warriors, an old live write from the LU Discord

Ao3

Hyrule was completely, utterly, and irrevocably lost. And for once, it wasn’t entirely literal. The city was just so, so big. There was no other word for it, if there was it was lost on him as he marveled at the towering buildings and soaring towers, the crowded streets and clamouring crowds. Everything was massive, as if some giant had haphazardly snatched the world at its seams and pulled, scaling the world up vertically and cramming the people and buildings and walkways closer together. It was bigger than the castle, larger than any town, or village, or forest he had ever seen - even in all their traipsing around and across time.

The cacophony of the busy market bored into his ears and overwhelmed him, the sense that he was trapped, he needed to get out, he needed to be able to- growing despite his lack of options to do so.

A tap on his shoulder and a tug on his hand pulled him out of his thoughts slightly. Shoulders tugged up to his ears and his bag clutched in a death grip beside him, he let himself be pulled along by the blue-gloved hand.

He could barely see his rescuer, the crowd’s commotion all but obsuring him. A small flicker of blue here and there and the comforting press against his hand grounded him as he let himself be dragged along. Absently, he heard a few gasps from the throng around them, and a path parted. With a kind but rough push and enough platitudes to serve an entire court, Warriors pulled him past the cluster of babbling streetgoers to emerge in a small alley.

Hyrule let go of his hand, face flushed as he muttered a quiet apology. His companion scoffed as he straightened his tunic.

“Nonsense, you should have seen Sky’s face when he showed up here.” Righting his scarf and casting a furtive glance up the alley, Warriors led him further away from the square.

A few messily laid cobblestones tripped them up as they walked, the quickly fading daylight doing nothing to help. No matter how many of these towns Hyrule saw, he never got quite used to them. The streets meandering and curling this way and that, mimicking the very weeds that grew between the stones. The buildings towering above his head, to heights completely impossible if not for the camaraderie of those surrounding them, each supporting the other in a grand display of solidarity.

They changed, of course, evolving over time as the kingdom grew and shrank, flourished and fell. It was awe inspiring, to see what the world had the potential to be. It was intimidating, to see what the world used to be.

It was interesting, truly, how much of a product of their times they all were. They may have shared that same spirit, that small spark of hope and confidence and bravery, that drove them all to do good and do it recklessly. To embrace it without abandon and dedicate themselves to helping as many as they could. Even if they didn't want it. Or appreciate it. Or know of it. But despite that common base instinct, that absolute dedication to being good, they all were still their own people. Each with their own instinct and motivations and methods. Each with their own history and family and, well, Hyrule. One that shaped them, in the ways that you don't notice until you finally get that outside perspective, although he was pretty sure that most people didn't experience that through literal time travel.

But he saw it, in the little ways Four watched the forest at night, Wild remained on edge when they met a traveler on the road, Wind lit up when they found those rare bodies of water deep inside the more landlocked Hyrules.

He saw it, in the way Time relaxed when they spent the night in a village, instead of the unending road of their journey. In the way Sky always looked to the air, and found relief in the birds as they danced about the sky. Those tiny details of their worlds that screamed normalcy, that all was right.

The way Warriors remained on edge, even as he led him through that crowd. Kept his guard up, even as he guided him back to the group, weaving their way from alley to street, tossing out hellos to unknown faces and shrugs to unheard questions. It was strange, sometimes, how such drastically different homes could produce such similar people. How isolated one could be in a place so overflowing with life and culture and people.

Because somehow, despite all that, one could still end up totally afraid.

It seemed strange, now that he noticed it, that he hadn't seen it before. It so clashed with their view of him, but maybe that was exactly why. Hyrule was so used to being the odd one out, the one who's world was... well, strange, to put it lightly. It wasn't until he followed him back through those wandering paths that he realized how exactly uncomfortable Warriors was, skeptical and wary despite his cheery voice as he explained where he had left the others. It wasn't until then that he realized how much of an anomaly Warriors' time was, a full and flourishing world that thrived and prospered and warred and struggled. But persisted. And he was responsible for it.

And how embarrassed he was of it, silently apologizing that they didn't get to have this, didn't get to live and thrive instead of fight and mourn.

Hyrule... could understand that. He saw the silent concern that they all shared when they spent the 7th night in as many days sleeping on the cold, hard ground, too far from any settlement that wasn't monster infested or struggling to support themselves, much less a gaggle of over exhausted heroes and too many mouths to feed. He could feel the looks they gave him, the terror Legend felt looking over that desecrated skyline, the buried remains of thousands of years of history, lost and burned and forgotten, willfully and terribly. Generation and generation of weaker and weaker leaders, poorer and poorer subjects, until the land was nothing but a scratched out word on a forsaken map, a murmured name scorned in folklore and blamed for every misfortune.

So, he understood, partly. He may have not quite understood the reason for Warriors' vigilance, that underlying note of wariness that followed every casual comment, the quiet skepticism that accompanied every order and attack. But he sympathized. They had all changed on this adventure, growing in response to a world that was slightly bigger, and went backwards as well as forwards.

That perspective shift was uncomfortable at first, a quiet tension that permeated their interactions. It took a while, as all things did, for them to get used the idea, especially those that had never done it before. Those who had gone it alone and unhindered. Unaided.

You'd have thought that Warriors would have been one of the first to adjust, he realized, given all this. But in that moment, as he walked through that unusual town, maybe their worlds didn't matter so much, and they were a bit more alike than he would have thought.

#julia's adventures in writing #linked universe #hyrule #warriors #iconic and underrated duo #not what i had been intending to write but hey its a lw for a reason #still happy with it #i hope you can enjoy it too <3 #scribbles and squiggles

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intro2filmbitterrootcollege · 4 years

Text

The Most Affecting Films of This Past “Year”

While gazing into the abyss of 2020, I don’t know if that hellmouth gazed back into me as Nietzsche envisioned it, because, like many, I fought this year’s monster in my sweats and talking to the walls while I scraped the barrel of Netflix for SOMETHING NEW to watch.

But I damn sure threw out any organizing rules for what qualifies as a “film.”

When called a “limited series,” long-form storytelling becomes cinema. And there shall be no argument. Thanks to The Queen’s Gambit and company, a number of these “films” by any-other-name delivered and found their way here.

Plus, it’s now a good stretch into 2021 and the very-arbitrary rules of our Time Before the Coronapocene are being met with a weary “Fuck it.”

Then there’s the possibility, as you discover when screening Arrival, that time doesn’t work the way we think it does...

“People like us who believe in physics know that the distinction between past, present and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion.”

- Albert Einstein

HONORABLE MENTIONS

The Explicitly Genre, the Dark-Hearted, & the B Movies

The Other Ones

Doctor Sleep Director’s Cut*

(*released in 2020)

The Godfather Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone*

(*yes, this was technically released 30 years ago but Coppola’s new cut works like a new film)

IT GOES TO ELEVEN

11. Let Him Go

Give me Costner and Lane in a neo-western all day. This is best viewed without knowing anything prior and far more somber than expected.

Loved the gender role-reversal as Lane dons the ten-gallon attitude typically worn by a male character.

10. Promising Young Woman

Sadly spot-on in its enraged message. Dark, dark, dark, dark, dark comedy(?).

And not for everyone.

But if you’re game, then this furious blast of filmmaking will be appreciated. Notice the foreshadowed symbolism spattered in neon and pink throughout (Saint Cassandra?) and the ending works. Mulligan being transcendent as always here.

9. Porno

Mileage will vary depending on one’s tolerance for/appreciation of severed male genitalia jokes. Being 14 years old at heart, I laughed myself hoarse.

A throwback with intelligent subtext about fundamentalist religious norms of repression and the dangers of a sex-negative culture.

8. Taylor Swift - Folklore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions

The album = classic already.

The documentary = downright magical.

7. Bad Boys For Life

As an old guy who also has some gray in the beard, I love how far they lean confidently into the old guy-ness. Been riding with these bad boys for 25 years now.

Just take my money already for the next installment.

6. The Queen’s Gambit

Cinema-as-a-novel. Sports movie as character study. Evidence that when you give a writer movie-budget money and trust their vision, you can get a hit. And a last episode that brings ALL THE JOY!

Bravo, Netflix.

5. The Outsider*

(*cancelled after one season so I’m calling it a “limited-series” and thus a film)

Just the weird and dark adaptation of King that fits with HBO and excises what I assume to be elements that work better on the page.

Its tone haunts and elliptical editing rewards patience, and Cynthia Erivo should be in everything.

4. Extraction

As subtle as having a lead character named Tyler Rake kill a dude with a rake -- which definitely happens here. On paper, its armature of a suicidal gunslinger with a weary soul seeking redemption in John Wick’s stylistic shadow shouldn’t work.

But grit and kinetic craft and heart tugging father and son parallels and an impressive look at what constitutes masculine “courage” and what masquerades as it under the guise of violence give zero shits about “shouldn’t.”

3. Tenet

“Don’t try to understand it. Feel it.”

“.ti leeF .ti dnatsrednu ot yrt t’noD”

A friendship love story at its core that’s going to live as an artifact and defy time, which is appropriate.

Branagh cooks the world’s largest ham and does so brilliantly.

So fun if you don’t try to play chess with Nolan (you’ll lose) and simply let it rip into the space-time continuum.

2. Devs

It took three episodes (read: chapters) for this to wrap me in its embrace but, holy multiverse, did it ever. A noodle baker of the highest craft, Alex Garland shows again that whatever he touches is going to be a favorite.

There’s multiple references to great poetry, a diverse cast reflective of humanity, and that many worlds theory to invite many more viewings.

1. Portrait of a Lady on Fire

Gobsmacked, I kept telling myself there’s no way the next scene or sequence could top the previous...

Then the bonfire singing happened...

Then an Orpheus and Eurydice allusion reversal...

Then the opera scene and me having an out of body experience for almost five hours after the credits slid up the screen.

Céline Sciamma’s film is the equivalent of Michael Jordan in an 80’s dunk contest: despite an abundance of competing talent, it can’t even be called a “contest.”

Art shouldn’t be ranked anyway, but Sciamma and everyone involved are all, like…

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jenomark · 5 years

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hi! just wanted to first say i love your writing. have you ever done anything about how each member would be while traveling with their significant other? i love traveling so much and started to think more into it

Taeil: Naps in trains and on planes. Moving through the early morning, the sun barely kissing the sky. Casual clothes and sweet airport snacks. His eyes are tired, but he’s so excited he can barely contain it. Minimal luggage and zero plans. Sweater paws. He spends all day adjusting to the time zones, with you cradled in his arm. Late-night room service, and a good movie.

Johnny: His camera is full of outfit-of-the-day photos of both of you: him leaning against pillars, thick vines snaking up the wall beside him, and you sitting on the steps of a cafe, looking down at your yellow shoes. He’ll wear beanies and sunglasses, a relaxed hoodie and a denim jacket. There’s a camera around his neck, a warm smile on his face. People watching in countries where you don’t speak the native tongue.

Taeyong: Red-eye flights. Departing in pajamas and landing in fashionable clothes. A face mask for every fashion choice. Too much luggage for too little time. His phone sitting in the bottom of his bag because he counts on you to lead him. He holds your hand in places he feels anxious. Paying for food at the first available and open eatery. Impatience. Stopping to look at people playing music in the streets. Getting scammed because he’s too kind.

Yuta: Stress-free trips. Makes sure you get enough sleep before traveling. Takes care of all the harder parts, like luggage and passports. Is friendly to everyone he meets. More excited than you thought he would be. Wants to try and do everything within reason. Couples massages and good food. Contacts home to tell them about the wonderful trip he’s having. A lot of late night swimming adventures. Kisses on the beach.

Kun: Normally hates to travel but enjoys it if it’s with you. Watches planes depart. Asks you about your life goals. Takes things seriously. Sweet cheek kisses and him fixing your hair when it’s a mess. Goes almost entirely off of the grid when traveling. Only sees you in every passing face he meets. Lives to make sure you’re having the best, most relaxing time.

Doyoung: Plans an itinerary long before traveling. Is always punctual. Clings to you during romantic moments, holding your hand and smiling his gummy smile. Wants to know you’re having a good time. Wants things to be a learning experience, but also leaves room for fun. Takes breaks in the hotel room to catch your breaths. Talks about going back but never actually does.

Ten: Doesn’t care about being late, or on time. Always makes it to where he wants to go. Stopping to buy souvenirs in airport shops. Makes up stories about strangers to pass the time. Becomes friends with the locals. Surprises you with couples outfits. Makes the best of every situation. Can’t remember every place he’s been to, but remembers exactly how you looked in those places.

Jaehyun: Stands tiredly waiting to board the plane, your head on his shoulder, and your hand in his. Never gets enough sleep. Charms everyone he meets with his smile. Watching Disney movies on the plane. A few drinks, a cab already waiting to take you to a hotel. Luxury. Going out on the town at night, exploring places other people recommend. Using your own toiletries. Listening to a Bluetooth speaker to fall asleep.

WinWin: Has a count down until you both leave. Loves to get you hype about travelling with him. Takes you places he’s familiar with. Wants to impress you with his culture. Hugs you whenever he’s waiting for something, his mind slipping into daydreams. Takes pride in all that he shows you. There is no limit to the things he will do for you both to have a good time.

Jungwoo: No plans. Wants every footstep to be an adventure. Laughs with you about everything. Long discussions with random strangers on trains. Accidentally gets the both of you invited to people’s houses. Tries food he’s never tried before. Moves freely and unafraid. Tugs you along to the next thing that excites him. Wants the both of you to grow from the experience.

Lucas: Non-stop laughter and back hugs. Drinks and late night dancing. Moving through the world clumsily. Falling asleep on his chest after being so full from eating good food. Getting to know the deepest parts of him and realizing just how much you really like him. So much patience and enthusiasm for everything.

Mark: A list on his phone of everything he wants to do. Neither of you knowing quite where to start. Wanting to be spontaneous but being a little too high strung. Feeling happy enough just doing touristy things. Comfortable shoes and him holding your bags for you. Wandering away from each other and coming back again.

Xiaojun: Getting lost in airport terminals. Sitting on top of his luggage bag and asking you to wheel him around. Laughs everything off like it’s not that serious. Falls asleep in your lap as you’re waiting. Keeps translation books in his bag. Craves one big adventure. Ends up in the craziest situations you could imagine.

Hendery: Listens to your needs. Remembers everything you forgot to pack. Is into a really calming experience. Wants to get plenty of rest before you explore a new city. Wants to learn more about you and strengthen the relationship. Takes pictures of your side profile and never tells you about them. Has a lot of surprises planned just for you.

Renjun: Prefers doing things most people don’t do. Likes gimmicky attractions and things that make him laugh. A feeling of being with a friend. You resting your head on his shoulder in outdoor cafes, watching him play games on his cell phone. Getting into heated discussions about folklore and fairy tales. Stargazing and nose kisses.

Jeno: Sitting in his lap at train stations. Giving him the window seat because you know he wants it but won’t ask for it. Packed lunches and Boba. Him draping his jacket over your lap to keep you warm. Day trips and weekends to places not too distant. Walking through the cities hand-in-hand, him giving you his best eye smile.

Haechan: Has a travel playlist. Is terrified of getting sick. Wants to do things that scare him: skydiving in foreign countries, swimming with sharks. Never wants to go back to the room and sleep. Walks through the streets like he belongs. Good at haggling with street vendors. Keeps a photo of you from the plane as his phone wallpaper for months afterwards.

Jaemin: Does everything low key because he doesn’t like to show off. Only likes doing necessary things. Believes creating lasting memories is important. Is happy as long as he’s doing something chill with you. Pets every dog he passes. Plans his next trip with you while he’s on the current one.

YangYang: Racing him throughout the terminal. Acting like a big kid without a care in the world. Playing silly games to pass the time. Excited to tell you about all of the interesting facts he learned about a country. Is always polite to every staff member he encounters.

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materializingthedisembodied · 4 years

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Hello all readers! Given we are stuck at home, and theme parks reopening really is a bad idea overall (even with some having all ready done so, and I really hope visiting guests are responsible) it’s time for a thought challenge!

Anyone who knows me/knows this blog recognizes that I love horror/supernatural/folklore as basis for a themed attraction. With that in mind, if you were to be in charge of conceptualizing a new attraction for a theme park based around a famous cultural/’real’ ghost or monster or folkloric supernatural entity, what would it be? Which creature, what ride system, what tone? As detailed as you want to get.

I have a ton of ideas, but to go very twisted, I might opt for a trackless intimate scaled dark ride dealing with the historically bizarre anecdote of Spring-Heeled Jack, a possible alien (?) that somewhat resembled Jack the Ripper from a distance, shooting flames or poison gas from its’ mouth, leaping over high fences, and basically terrorizing the unprepared population of gaslight-era London. The attraction would feel tight and claustrophobic, along the piers, cobbled back streets, working districts and markets of London amongst a thick fog with Jack lurking out of sight, even including some humorous fake-out jump scares and scenes (a fishmonger and his cat, perhaps, having a tug of war over a large sized fish, and so on) to release tension amidst the eerie, lingering vibe of unease that would permeate it, and a ending whereby you ambush the spectral figure yourself, causing him to run off, leaving behind a few cryptic items - a gas mask, a fashionable hat, a walking stick, a pile of odd goop - and then entering a newspaper office touting new leads in the case of discovering who - or what - Spring-Heeled Jack is. You don’t solve the case or fully find out, but you are involved in contributing to the story as it were, while still leaving an air of mystery to it.

I look forward to seeing other people’s concepts!

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saltylikecrait · 5 years

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For this week’s @finnreyfridays theme: Forest and gifted to @errrbodylovesfinn. This is a multi-chapter folklore AU without a current update schedule, as the first draft is still being written.

The full first chapter can be read on AO3. Below is a preview of the story.

“Run this by me one more time, so I’m certain I understand.”

Poe sighed as he tugged at his coat sleeves. “We’ve gone through this how many times? Come on, you know this.”

They stood outside the festivity tent for the noblemen and royals who were joining in on the fun, adjusting their outfits last minute. Finn wasn’t too concerned about his clothes so much as the mask settled over his face. He would admit he hadn’t been so sure about showing up as a ram, and the curling horns sitting on either side of his head made the mask a little heavy, but with the finishing touches of his green tunic with gold embroidery, he thought it looked nice.

Next to him, Poe fiddled with his bronze stag mask. “How ‘bout you walk me through it this time?”

“Fine,” Finn agreed, and he spoke as he pulled at the gold band around his neck. “So Féile Óir is a festival to honor the God of Fortune, but each night celebrates local minor gods for the blessings they give each year.”

“That’s right.” Poe smiled underneath his mask. “And what’s tonight’s god?”

The prince pointed to his friend's mask. “The God of the Hunt, who often takes the form of a stag. Tonight’s celebration will end in a hunt, of course.”

“Correct. And tomorrow’s celebration?”

“The wolf god, for his blessings upon the community.” Finn scratched his neck. “I can’t recall who’s next.”

“The cattle goddess, but we need not remember them all up front.” Poe winked at him. “We can just take each night as it comes.”

Finn was thankful for that. While he always tried to respect each culture he came across as much as he could show, sometimes, large amounts of new information at once could be overwhelming to him. These gods weren’t the ones of his kingdom, though he found some similarities between them.

“I guess there’s no more stalling,” he sighed as he went to move the tent flap to the side and take a peek. Already, a crowd had amassed, picking tables to sit at for the feast that was soon to start. Though the point of the masks was to confuse people of who they were sitting by, he perceived that many people could pick out their family members in a crowd or know what mask they were wearing prior.

Almost to prove his point, he spotted his sister already at a table to the other side of the tent. It was too easy to figure her out. The golden horse mask was a dead giveaway.

“I see Jannah,” he announced to Poe. “We can sit next to her.”

Leading the way inside, Finn quietly circled around the side of the tent until he got to her and swung his leg over the long bench so he could sit. “Why the long face, sister?” he greeted with a snicker.

She groaned. “Finn, if you continue with your bad humor, I might have to turn you away at the wedding, lest my fiancé decide he’d rather not marry into such an annoying family.”

Shrugging, Finn relented. “Very well. I’m sure Theron has already warned them about me.” Their older brother had gone to Yavin ahead of time to oversee the preparations and to work on the marriage contract, hence he was not joining his family at the festival. Finn didn’t mind so much since he and his brother were not close. Theron was many years older than him and Jannah, their parents having difficulty conceiving children after him for a time. By the time Finn was old enough to really form a relationship with his brother, he was already beginning his royal service and was gone most of the time.

Looking over his mask, Jannah frowned. “A ram?”

“Something wrong?” Finn felt dread run down his spine.

“Not at all. I’m just surprised. I thought you would choose a creature more aquatic, for home.”

“And what about you, horse-woman?” he challenged. “Everyone knew what you would wear.”

Poe interjected, “It suits you though.” And really, Finn was in agreement with him. His sister was one of the most accomplished equestrians in the kingdom, a talented hunter and racer. Theron was probably establishing a clause in her marriage contract that she would continue her hobbies and talents without interference by the Yavinese royal family, though Finn doubted they were dumb enough to ask. They would probably want her to train their horses and compete in their own circuits.

Pleased with Poe’s comment, Jannah hummed. “For that, I owe you a dance. Could you please do me a favor though and teach my brother how to be just as charming?”

Feigning hurt, Finn countered, “I am charming.”

His sister’s tilted head said otherwise.

A group of people swarmed into the tent and began to sit themselves down at random, prompting the three to be quiet as they regarded the guests and observed the masks and outfits parade in front of them.

Two women dressed in cat masks – one black and one white – sat down across from them. Judging by the similarity of their outfits and their sleek black hair, Finn figured they were sisters, or at least closely related. While the woman in the black mask was friendly with them, the other was not and would turn her partner away to chat privately with her from time to time.

“I don’t suppose anyone’s made an announcement of when the feast is to start?” asked the woman in the black mask. “We got here only a few hours ago and have worked up an appetite.”

“Shouldn’t be too long now,” said Finn. “Once they herald in the royal families, they’ll start bringing food out.” His parents would sit up with the royal family of Takodana - distant relatives of his father - along with some other visitors while their children were allowed to mingle with other guests. It was nice to not worry about formalities and getting rank and hierarchies right.

Just as he was thinking this, trumpet rang through the tent and everyone stood up. The elderly queen of Takodana, Maz was the first inside, wearing a golden doe mask that seemed to be an heirloom of sorts. A valet offered his hand to help her sit down and her seat, but she walked by him and sat herself down, prompting a couple of quiet chuckles throughout the benches. Queen Maz was well known for her fire and wisdom and she would not let age slow her down.

His parents were the next to be ushered in, his father too broad of a man to go unnoticed. On his arm, his mother walked beside him with the grace she was best known for. Many said Finn got his gentleness from her. They both wore masks that were carved with sea creatures instead of looking like the face of one particular animal. On his father’s mask, he could see the outline of sharks hunting fish. For his mother’s, silver dolphins swam playfully.

They sat on either side of Queen Maz to be her main company. Finn wondered how often his father communicated with his cousin and if they had much to catch up on.

Once everyone was settled, Queen Maz stood up and gestured for them to sit down. Silence spread about the room, the guests waiting to see if the queen would make a speech or call to prayer.

“I suppose you’re all expecting me to say a few words, but I know you don’t really care about what an old woman thinks.” She held up her hands. “Blessings of the gods upon you all.”

Many of the guests hooted in delight, thanking the queen as the first courses of the feast were brought out on large platters. Plates of meat, a cooked boar and wild game, sometimes needing multiple servers to bring them out. Roasted vegetables, bowls of salads, fried potatoes that smelled heavenly from where Finn was sitting. All of it looked delicious.

He helped himself to spiced wine and some of those potatoes and vegetables first. Savoring their taste and how they practically melted in his mouth. Then, he moved on to the heavier meats, selecting a pair of drumsticks for himself while he sat back and watched everyone around him. Playing a game with himself, Finn gazed upon the masks and their wearers and tried to guess by their mannerisms and clothing where they were from and whether they were royal or noble.

Between this and the conversations he had around his table, the time between courses passed pleasantly. Soon, a quartet of musicians were ushered in and given time to set up their instruments as excited whispers echoed through the tent. He could see a few people glance toward others, knowing they were eyeing their prospect dance partners.

This was the part Finn dreaded the most. Sure, he had to learn dances like every other royal, but that didn’t mean he was good at it. He had embarrassed himself and a few dance partners enough to know that anyone with any knowledge of his skills would shy away from him.

True to her word, as tables were moved away to allow space for dancers, Jannah paired herself up with Poe. Normally, the first dance was reserved for suitors, spouses, or fiancés, but since Jannah’s husband-to-be was not here and the masks concealed identities, it didn’t matter much.

Glancing around the room to see if anyone was looking for a partner, Prince Finn perceived a sudden sensation of shyness that kept him from approaching anyone. Without his identity concealed, everyone was aware he was a prince and didn’t dare to turn him away, now he wondered without that to ensure success in finding a partner, would anyone be interested in a young man in a ram mask?

The quiet woman in the white cat mask approached him, acting almost as shy as he was feeling.

“Do you have a partner?” she asked him.

Finn glanced over at his father for a moment and made direct eye contact with him. King Caeid nodded slightly, making it clear he wanted his son to be sociable.

He hoped the woman didn’t catch on to his initial hesitance. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her feelings. Holding his hand out for her to cover it with her own, Finn led the woman to the dance floor.

Quickly, the woman realized what a poor choice of a partner he was and her annoyance became evident along where her mouth was visible. She tried to help him out, but it was hopeless and he tried his best to avoid stepping on her. Embarrassed, the prince tried to focus on something besides his feet and ended up staring at the unusual pendant around her neck, trying to place if it represented her culture or not.

When the song ended, the woman slipped to the side of her sister and didn’t ask him to dance again. He sat alone along the benches for a time while Poe and Jannah switched off with different partners. Everyone must have seen the performance he gave because no one else came along to ask him. His father would probably chastise him later and get his another dance teacher to salvage what little skills the prince possessed.

“Excuse me,” a woman’s deep voice came from behind him. “Would you dance with me?”

Shocked anyone would offer, Finn turned around to see who was asking, thinking they must be blind.

Speechless upon first glance, Finn beheld her. As simple as the cream-colored dress skimming over her slender figure was, he might have mistaken her for a commoner if it weren’t for the golden fur draped around her shoulders. Her draping bell sleeves were tattered strategically, making the fabric hang like streamers.

Then, he stared at her mask. Cat-like, it had an ancient regal appearance with a squared profile. It took him a moment to realize he had seen the design before from the old carving of the goddess he had expressed gratitude to earlier in the day. In fact, the mask the woman wore was almost exactly the same as the one carved into the shrine.

She was not dressed as a cat; she was a forest lioness. He wondered if the fur around her shoulders was also of a forest lion.

He hoped he wasn’t gaping at her, but he found her beautiful even if he couldn’t see her face. All he could tell about her was she had tan skin and chestnut hair. Takodana had many ethnic cultures in its kingdom, so he wondered if she was local or if she was from the northern kingdoms.

Realizing he was probably taking too long to speak and about to spark awkwardness between them, he stood up. “Are you sure?” he asked her.

Mask covering her entire face, Finn could not see her reaction. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Did you not see how I danced earlier?” Finn felt embarrassed. “I was appalling.”

Expecting her to reconsider and leave, the prince braced himself for rejection. She surprised him again.

“Maybe you just need the right dance partner,” she mused and held out her hand. “I can’t say I’m great myself; we’ll probably be a good match.”

Her forwardness shocked him, and he hesitated a moment before he held his own hand out to take hers. Staring at her, he glimpsed hazel eyes flecked with gold under the lion mask and found her mesmerizing.

Leading her out to the dance area, he caught Poe’s eye and saw him smiling at him.

The music began and Finn and the woman made quick bows to one another before they circled around, allowing their flat palms to touch at a vertical angle. Their gazes linked as they continued this step.

“What is your name?” Finn found he couldn’t help but ask.

There was a smile in her answer. “I believe that’s against custom,” she told him. “The point of the masks is to hide who we are.”

“My apologies,” he spluttered.

“Not needed,” she said. “I suppose it’s not against rules if you guess my name, however.”

Finn couldn’t help but laugh. “And how am I to do that? I know nothing about you.”

“There are ways,” she said. “You seem like a clever man.” Then, when they drew closer in their steps, she whispered, “I saw what you did for the old shrine in the forest. You were very kind to care.”

He gasped, not thinking anyone else had been out there. His eyes caught the flowers woven carefully into her hair, small, white, and star-shaped. The same flowers he had offered to the shrine as a token of his gratitude.

“So how is this fair? You know who I am, but I don’t know who you are?”

She laughed, a cross between a giggle and a chuckle. “Maybe not fair, exactly. Fun might be a better word.” Remaining silent for a moment, she spoke again after she placed her hand on Finn’s shoulder. “How about this: you get a guess each night, and if you guess wrong, I give you a hint.”

“And if I guess correctly?”

“I’ll give you a reward worth your while,” she promised him. “So how about it? Care to venture a guess?”

Thinking about it, Finn didn’t see the harm in guessing her name. If anything, it made him a lot more curious about her. He started to come up with names in his head he knew were common in this area for someone that resembled her.

Finally, he selected at random. “Kira?”

Like he figured, he guessed wrong. “Sorry,” she told him, amusement in her voice. “Here’s your hint.” Leaning in, she whispered in his ear. “We’ve already met, but I did not look as I do now.”

Taken aback, he asked, “Are you Artorian? Am I allowed to ask a question?”

Pausing, she considered for a moment before replying, “No.” Though when Finn thought about it, it could have been a response for either question.

When the dance ended, she backed away. “See? You’re not a bad dancer after all.”

The prince swayed as if coming out of a trance. Being so caught up in her game, he almost forgot he was dancing too. For the first time he could recall, his movements were smooth and effortless.

“Must have had the right dance partner,” he told her.

He could hear another smile in her response. “I’m glad I won’t have to search for a partner every night. Tomorrow then?”

“Tomorrow.”

If he didn’t know better, the woman swayed her hips a bit more to tease him as she walked away.

Finn was so caught up with staring at her that he didn’t notice Poe approaching until he felt a strong pat on his back.

“Hey, who’s the girl?” he asked. “You two looked like you were enjoying each other.”

“Dunno,” said Finn. “I didn’t get her name.”

“Too bad. You two made quite the pair. The lioness and the ram.” Poe pretended to swoon dramatically. “Like a fairy tale.”

“Poe-" Finn felt exasperated.

“It wasn’t just me,” his friend added. “Everyone was watching you. I think your parents were scheming with Queen Maz once they laid eyes on you.”

At the dais, Finn noticed his parents lean back to talk to one another. His father staring at him through the corner of his eye. Well, he supposed he couldn’t be surprised. The festival was a place where nobles of multiple kingdoms mingled together; it was an opportunity of scouting out prospect matches for marriages.

Turning around to search for the woman again, Finn found she was nowhere to be seen. Come to think of it, Finn hadn’t seen her at the feast earlier either.

She said they had met before, but she had appeared different. Finn’s brain waded through memories and tried to think of every woman he had ever met that matched her profile, realizing there were too many that fit the description but none were like her in action and words. Perhaps he had ran into her somewhere outside the tent where the nobles stayed their nights. Maybe she was one of the merchants selling outside and snuck in to join them.

#finnrey #finnreyfridays #my stuff #folklore au

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