#I had/have ideas for grammatical mood but eh...

[the-world-of-ignavus]

Language of the Regency: Modern Tema

Phonetics and Phonotactics

Onset: m n k p ny ŕ ch sh h s  th d g w p l rr b t

H Clusters: hw hŕ hl

P Clusters: pr

Nucleus: m n ny rr ŕ y k h v f l b w ch th sk

Coda: n t l ŕ ch

Vowels: a i e o u

A Clusters: aa ao ae au

| | | |

Word Order

Primary - SOV | Subject Object Verb

Ma in-rridi haku lit. I the bird hunted I hunted the bird

Secondary - SVO | Subject Verb Object

Ma haku in-rridi I hunted the bird

Predominantly Head Initial Language

Nouns - Adjectives | Narru naŕa (white river (lit. river white))

Noun - Numbers | Lokal yun (two rocks (lit. rock two))

Noun - Genitives | Mao fisal fiwa (mother’s whiskers (lit. whisker of mother))

Noun - Relative Clauses | 

Article - Noun | In rridi (the bird)

Demonstratives - Noun | Avi narru (this river)

Adjective - Adverb | rraheŕi wiwa (pretty stupid)

Yes/No Particles | Post-Sentence

Ma kimakaal, yami I am coming, yes

Question Words | Post-Sentence

Ha otokaal, nyak? Where are you going?

Proper Noun - Common Noun | 

Modifier Order | opinion-number-material-size-color-purpose/use

Modifier Example

In sulil rreeŕi teŕ datayame piyuŕe lit. the bowls pretty three wooden small The three pretty small wooden bowls

Compounds | Adjective-Noun

Awataya (forest (lit. place (of)-tree))

| | | |

Noun Class System

Modern Tema retained the group-of-four nouns that initially formed their melting class system, with agreement emerging in both adjectives and articles. As Tema began to be formally recorded and studied by its speakers, with active lessons towards foreigners, they assigned proper names for the four classes.

Solar Nouns (-ŕu) The first noun class originally came from all things good and safe. Made of edible prey, safe and comforting things, familiar friends, close kin and things associated with day-time and toms, its other names are Sun Nouns, Red Nouns and Day Nouns. Regarding family members, swapping them into the Solar class is an indication of closeness or familiarity. 

Pat ihŕaŕu (fresh prey) > Fresh, prey that is safe to eat

Hŕan sayaŕu (big deer) > a large, non-aggressive deer

Ka basu piyuŕu (my small den) > my small den that I love

Iŕa aŕa sanyaŕu (the bright sun)

Lunar Nouns (-sa) This second noun class is associated with the moon, contrasting the first class and is made of challenging or frightening things, ethereal feats of nature, intimidation, the night and mollies. It expresses a formal relationship with others and is often used to convey respect and deference to others when spoken.

Hŕan sayasa (big deer) > a large, aggressive deer, perhaps a stag

Ka mao chiŕasa (my kind mother)

Neaŕa sahwasa (a quiet night)

Aaku niskalusa (a careful hunter)

Lightless Nouns (-ye) The third class born from things of great suspicion, danger or prone to causing death or some form of sickness. It absorbed several locations from the previous location classifier that have long since been deemed ‘cursed’ or full of negative energy.

Amuk ayisiwaŕeye (a terrible weasel)

Shuniprri vachiye (a vile kinslayer)

Nyiŕ Choyikal Kaprru (The Skull Lands)

Ayoŕeye (poison (lit. lightless herb))

Mortal Nouns (-ŕe) Named as such to mark an obvious difference from the other three classes, the mortal nouns made of things constructed by mortal paws - being mostly condensed down as ‘tools.’

Chofi piyuŕe (a small pouch/satchel)

Nunei naaŕeŕe (a long tether/leash)

Nabo samaŕe (a hot pan)

Keyinaya malaŕe (an empty waterskin)

In addition to these basic methods of sorting words, Tema allows a little modification to appear on the noun itself to create a simple, concise identifier.

Hŕanuŕu (good/fresh deer (meat)) or ‘a safe or non-aggressive deer.’

Hŕanasa (scary deer)

Hŕaneye (bad/rotting deer (meat)) or ‘a dangerous deer that has killed.’

Listing prey animals while adding a class modifier is usually indicative of the animal being spoken of as prey, with the implication of ‘meat’ being announced while using a separate adjective indicates a living creature.

Hŕanuŕu sayaŕu (large deer meat) vs. Hŕan sayuŕu (a large deer)

Grammatical Number

By now, Tema has officially adopted the paucal number into their paradigm, leaving the singular unmarked.

There's not much to say, so here are a couple of examples:

In aŕasil teŕ piyuŕu | The three small fires

In narruch piyusa | A few small rivers

Tense and Aspect

The discontinuous, -mano expresses that an action or event is no longer true. For example;

Ma in asish matamano | I caught the fish (but I no longer have it)

In this case, the affix -mano implies that though the speaker had once had possession of the fish, this is no longer true. Perhaps the speaker dropped the fish while bringing it in, or they gifted it to someone after catching it. Whatever the reason, the speaker no longer has possession of the fish. 

-sahwa (still, unchanging) is still in full effect here. As a reminder, this -sahwa forms the continuative aspect clarifying that an event is still ongoing at the current moment and at least in Tema, had likely been happening for a very long time.

No haku (They are hunt/are hunting)

No hakusahwa (They are still hunting)

In the first sentence, the hunters are merely hunting deer - the implication being that they’ve either left recently or the hunting is happening in a normal span of time. The second sentence implies that the hunters have been out for a long time, long enough to be worth noting or to be a cause of concern.

And of course, combining it with the habitual aspect (hakulisahwa) is still used to express disbelief or incredulity. With the loss of the noun classifiers, the difference between pejorative disbelief (exasperation, annoyance) and positive disbelief (amazement, awe) has become conveyed near exclusively through context and tone alone. 

No hŕan hakulisahwa (they are still hunting deer)

Can be meant in either a concerned way (they are still hunting deer (but they should be back by now)), in a way that expresses annoyance and frustration (they are still hunting deer (but we don’t need/want them to)) or in surprise and amazement (they are still hunting deer (even though there’s ample discouragement to)).

 Often, the rest of the sentence is enough to convey which meaning is being brought up here:

No hŕan hakulisahwa e in niva koyun aamicheŕu They are still hunting deer and the snow is getting heavier

Here, the speaker is mostly concerned with the safety of the hunters. The deer itself is unimportant, but the fact that they’re still hunting in in-opportune conditions.

Wi oto e no hŕan hakulisahwa We are leaving and they are still hunting deer

In this example, the speaker is irritated by the hunters as their hunting is happening at a bad time. Likely, the group cannot leave the area before the hunters return, and their long hunting trip is holding everyone else back.

Omi ayeŕanit ihŕayiat ilk ŕi Menya e no hakulisahwa hŕan That stag broke Menya’s leg, and he’s still hunting deer

And in this example, the speaker is impressed or incredulous by the hunter - Menya. A stag has previously introduced a higher degree of danger, enough so that the speaker would be inclined to believe that Menya would stop hunting deer for a while, but he did not.

Mood and Modality

Pronouns

The basic independent forms of the basic pronouns have become entrenched in place although, a pair of new words have been attached to the second and third-person singular as a way of expressing formality:

These words came from the association of the royal and noble families as divine guardians of the mortal people, coming from the sheyan (spirit). This change has also been reflected in the dependent markers:

And of course, our example word in the form of yi (to see):

With this in mind, the independent forms are often interpreted as more formal or ‘proper’ speech, clarifying all of the individual parts. It’s sometimes considered ‘childish’ as it’s the way cubs and non-native speakers are first taught to speak the language before moving into the dependent versions.The dependent forms are then thus, viewed as casual or informal conversation.

Ma yanya haku iko ha I enjoy hunting with you (formal) Vs.  Yanyama haku iko ha I enjoy hunting with you (informal)

Following along, the formal second and third personal singular forms are extremely form and imply that someone to talking to or about someone of great status, usually the royal or noble family. Interestingly, using the independent formal version is used of the crown heir and the king and queen, while the dependent formal version is used on everyone else in the royal family:

Ma yanya haku iko hayan I enjoy hunting with you (formal/heiress or rulers) Vs. Yayama haku iko hayan (I enjoy hunting with you (informal/nobles, non-inheriting heirs)

Another distinction is the use of both dependent and independent markings when trying to emphasize something:

Ma yanyama haku I enjoy hunting

This sentence for example would read as ‘I really enjoy hunting’ or even ‘I, personally, enjoy hunting’

Articles and Demonstratives

There is no indefinite article in middle mogglish - all unmodified nouns are considered to be indefinite by default:

Maŕo (cat, a cat)

Owninuŕ (rat/mouse, a rat/a mouse)

Chovu (fox, a fox)

The definite article has now been settled into multiple forms that change based on noun class:

Iŕa maŕo (the (safe/familiar/) cat)

Hiŕ maŕo  (the (intimidating/unfamiliar) cat)

Nyiŕ maŕo (the (scary/dangerous) cat)

Saŕu sarril (the den)

The demonstratives remain similarly unchanged.

Proximal things refer to nouns close to both the speaker and the listener while distal are things far away from the speaker but often close to the listener.

Avi iŕu narru (this river (near us)) Vs. Ime iŕu narru (that river (near you))

In this example, both of the demonstratives used also fall under the ‘visible’ column - which means the speaker can see the river. This does not however, mean the listener can see the river - the visible and non-visible distinction applies to the speaker alone and sometimes is used as a short-hand when a lost or difficult to find thing has been located:

Avi narru! ((I found/I can see) this/a river (near us))

On the other side of things, non-visible things are - as one might guess - things that the speaker can’t see. It’s also of course, used to remark upon something that the speaker isn’t aware of the location of something.

Rri iŕu narru (this river (that I can’t see/can’t find)) OR  Omi iŕu narru (that river (that I can’t see/can’t find))

[judesmoonbeauty]

Yves Kloss - Act 2 Ch. 11 - Dramatic Summary

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere. Also, feel free to ignore my random commentary. I know this Master List is delayed, but eh, it was my first translation project, and I had no idea of what I was doing.

Please note: Only his common route and Dramatic route are translated/summarized.

Alt translations are marked as ///

T/L notes are notated at the bottom of the post with***

???: “Since you have sublimated into a rose that will not wither then you must’ve known a very strong love”.***

???: “But love is a curse that drives people crazy. The stronger it is the more it becomes a poison that eats away at you.”

???: “Jealousy, possessiveness, fear, madness, love is never just a beautiful emotion.”

Emma (inner thoughts): I suddenly remember the words someone uttered to me in a dream. I understand their meaning, but when I met Yves I learned so much about love, and I would protect him with my life. I don’t think this love is a curse for me, and I can’t imagine being unhappy with this love. 

Emma returns to obsidian palace without incident and reports to the princes what happened. Leon -the ever valiant hero- decides to go get Yves. He says that Chev can remain at the palace as the ambassador in the meantime. 

Chev chimes in and says that he isn’t going to be told what to do. Ragna then offers to show Leon the way to Yves. Emma asks Leon to let her come. She’s been taught how to defend herself and doesn’t want to sit still and look pretty. 

Leon agrees so long as she promises not to do anything brash. Since they can’t leave a right then and there he tells her go change. As she’s getting ready she notices how terrible she looks, and as soon she starts feeling down she holds the earring again. She chants to herself that they are going to save Yves and after slapping her cheeks, she leaves the room. 

In the corridor the sound of her footsteps are met with a resounding “CLUNK”. 

Gil: Good evening, little rabbit.

*FLASHBACK*

After Yves and Emma split from each other Yves drove a separate carriage alone to intercept Horst at an abandoned  village he usually stops by on his way back home. He touches the plait Emma braided for him to have courage. He stops the carriage when he notices how eerily silent the peddlers street that he’s traveling down is. Soon the carriage is shot at by flying arrows and a swarm of men carrying weapons emerge from the shadows of the buildings. When Yves tries to escape with the carriage, there is a huge flash of light. 

*FLASH BACK ENDS*

Gil asks Emma if she’s going out. Emma has many questions for him, but chooses to make Yves priority. She says yes and excuses herself. As she walks past him he gently picks up her hair to look at her earring. He asks her if she has anything she wants to ask him.

Though perturbed by his ability to seemingly read her thoughts, she makes up her mind to ask if he has anything to do with Horst and company’s actions? Gil asks her what she thinks. 

She says at first she thought so, but Horst’s actions were that to assassinate them. However, now that Tanzanite, Achroite and Ruby are forming an alliance Gilbert wants to avoid as much trouble as possible. Killing Yves though he hates him wouldn’t make any sense. Gil says that if she knows that much, then why ask?

Emma recalls Gil’s words when he hurled his cane to Yves neck - “I don’t do favors for people I don’t like”. Em wonders what triggered him to say those words. Gil seems to read her mind again. He says that it wasn’t intentional just that he let his words slip because her king put him in a bad mood. 

Emma reason’s within herself that Gilbert did speak those words intentionally because he didn’t want to take the trouble to kill Yves himself, so he incited Horst to do it with those words. He is determined to kill the last member of the Kloss family without directly doing so. 

Gil: Shouldn’t you hurry?

He asks her while smiling.

Emma: “What?”

Gil: “If they didn’t get him the first time, they’ll get him the second time. I hope you make it.” 

She leaves him running.

***Sublimated- to change form, but not essence. It is another term for sublime. Azel is stating that because she has achieved the highest sense of her love, it’s like a rose that won’t wither.

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[egg2k16]

40 Fanfic Q’s Answered

the server wants answers, and they want them now!!! from this post

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Smut and pining all the way. Also, falling in love via laughing

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Eh...I don’t think so, I’m always 100% self-indulgent, so what u see is what I want

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Anything that has to do w mega sadness, I just Don’t. I can’t write anything sad, and if I do, there’s certainly gonna be A Lot of comfort afterwards

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I have 91 wips, motherfuckers!!! My latest wip is a daddy month fic!

5. Share one of your strengths.

I think, since I’ve been trying to be sparser in my words, I’ve been able to better emphasize what isn’t being said

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

No action scenes from me are ever good, lmao

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It was late at night, when he started to cry.

He didn't want to cry, but he did.

It's been years since he's last let himself feel, or was it since he was last allowed to feel?

He choked on his sobs, uncomfortable with his tears. He's forgotten how to properly cry. His entire body is shaking, and the connections between flesh and wire hurts.

He stops crying. He starts crying again.

This continues for another few minutes, until he feels as if he can't possibly have any more tears.

He wipes his face, pulls the covers up to his chin, and falls asleep.

(from Twilight on the Sea) I really like this bcus I don’t think I’ve ever really typed out crying in this way, n I tried to make it feel like it was a lot

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Cass was quiet for a moment. “... you know what? Maybe I’ll just go up there and surprise you.”

“If you do, then you already ruined the surprise, haven’t you?”

“Eh, I dunno about that. Seeing my beautiful face is a shock for many people.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Hey, Koda? I don’t know about you, but it’s really late here.”

“Really?” Koda asks, then remembers that time zones exist. “Oh crap, what time is it over there?”

“It’s midnight. What about you?”

“It’s eight o’clock. Only four hours difference?”

“Oh hey, that’s not so bad.”

“It reduces our time,” Koda said, a bit whining.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you going to do? Move here? Send for me?”

“You’ll see.”

(from Together) This was a gift for one my best friends on here, @suncatchr​ , and it’s about his ocs!!! I love this a lot bcus while it’s a soulmate au, it’s not ur average soulmate au, and I tried making it as original as possible! And this blurb, I just wanted them to effuse so much love w/o having to say love...cries

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

If this is by posted fics, then I remember writing Look What You’ve Done to Me was very very difficult, bcus, since it’s also a gift, for @daniel-bryan​ , I wanted to write it Good, n since my buddy usually wrote from the love interest’s pov, I felt a weird pressure to write Daniel Bryan’s pov as good as I could

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

2 of my fics in Spanish!!! My oc centric one, Rayos y Centellas, and my shyan one, oye cariño, solo pienso en ti ! Turns out writing in ur native tongue makes everything easier

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

It’s a very passionate hobby!!! I just!!! try to pour all of my love into everything I write!!!

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I’m not sure!!! I just watch movies n quietly scream to my gay lonesome bcus No One Ever Watches Movies ;-;

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

To just keep writing n not stop for details or forgotten lore, bcus it’s important to write down what’s firing u up Right Now. Of course, it’s very difficult following that ;;-;;

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

“No adverbs!” “No ‘said’!” “It has to make grammatical sense!” sometimes things Need those

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Was gonna say my rewrite of the end of The Rover, but actually, my SPN fic Ube . Shit was peak inspired

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Eridirk (Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider from Homestuck) all the way. The one otp that’s stayed thru thick n thin <3

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

A little mix of both, and tbh it depends on the fic, but I tend to write chronologically

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I’ve started bullet pointing my ideas out before writing my fics, and so far, it’s been helping me be more streamlined n get my things written out faster n clearer!

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Is the need for representation in all the niche movies I keep watching a muse?

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

In my dark room, w music blasting from my laptop, the TV w a soft hum, I have the perfect playlist to get the mood right, curled up in my blankies, n my plushie Sweet Pea by my side

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Zero, we rely on autocorrect & editing while typing and die like men

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

YOU DON’T SEEM SCARED.

Del Rio shrugs. “Working as a cop, it makes you numb to some things. It’s good, it lets you react to things as you should, and not how you’d want to.”

YOU SOUND SAD ABOUT THAT.

He makes a noncommittal noise. “It is what it is.” He eats another spoonful of his ice cream, then gets a thought.

“Can you show up?”

HOW SO?

“Can you,” he tries, waving his spoon around, “Manifest?”

I DON’T KNOW. I’LL TRY.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Del Rio assures, and he can feel the air around him smile. The...world, he thinks, around him shifts just slightly, and there seems to be a chink in the armor for a moment before it goes away, as if someone had wiped the glass clear. He realizes that this is her, trying to show up in a physical form, step out of the phone.

He doesn’t know where to look, but then his confusion wanes when a butterfly shows up, fluttering towards him. It lands near his phone, skitters a bit, flaps its wings.

“Lucy?” he asks, transfixed on the butterfly. Its orange wings are bright under the sunlight.

I THOUGHT I’D TRY SMALL, FOR MY FIRST TRIAL.

“Well, you certainly nailed it.” He smiled warmly at the butterfly, and he had the crazy notion that it smiled back at him.

(adapted from The Policeman , the first fic I posted!)

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Yeah, probably The Policeman lmao, I remember it today n I cringe a little at the very obvious refs to other fandoms I made. Despite that, it continues being one of my best hits!

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Never

25. What do you look for in a beta?

I’m just thankful to have gotten a beta in general in life at all

26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I beta’ed once, and since English is my 2nd language, I pointed out syntax confusion, typos, n continuity errors

27. How do you feel about collaborations?

Can be done, it’s just that I am frightened. Tried doing that, it fell thru, n the new thing that came up, I still have to hold up my end of the bargain ;;-;;

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

cries omg ok so!!! Chancy_Lurking ( @lurkerviolin​ ) is one of my faves, n we’ve become friends, n their Felix+ Sense8 series is the reason for it all, and u know it’s good if it managed to make a friendship that’s last its good while, and also they’re so nice, and we vibe so well!!! thegoatz ( @daniel-bryan​ ) is also now one of my bestest friends ever, and I wuv him so much, he is such a good kid, n he’s so enthusiastic about writing, and I hope that spark never goes out!!! And adamwhatareyouevendoing ( @skatingthinandice​ ) bcus she’s doing a rewrite of The Last Kingdom where it’s all gay where it should be and vnjkdfsnvkd God, what a wonderful friend!!!

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I actually technically am working on a sequel to @rettaroo​ ‘s A New Kind of Touch ! Another promise I have to hold up eventually ;;;-;;;

30. Do you accept prompts?

Sure!

31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I try to follow canon as much as I possibly can!

32. How do you feel about smut?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

33. How do you feel about crack?

Eh, it’s alright. I don’t normally look for it, so I don’t really have a solid opinion on it

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

I don’t want to read it, but I have so far encountered it twice very amicably: once here in a ficlet, and another in a longer fic on AO3, and they were both very good

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Probably not, I don’t like sad things!

36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3! I’m RedLlamas on it!

37. Talk about your current wips.

Lmao which one. The one I’m currently working on is an impregnation kink turned “oh no I actually do wanna have a family” feelings fic!

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Gonna be real w u, the best comments I’ve gotten have mainly been from my friends, who either write a paragraph or two going into detail of the fic, or just send a one sentence comment that’s just “screams!” I’ve gotten very few paragraphs from other people, n they’re always so!!!

My friends are the realest :’)

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

The perks of being a rarepair writer is that the only people who read my fics are the ones actively looking for content!!! And they can’t complain about my work because No One Else Is Writing For It!!!!!!

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

All my fics are masterpieces, so I’ll do a summary change! For don’t you just know (exactly what they’re thinking?)

Dakota finds himself in unexpected heartbreak, and the universe decides to bring him in the direction of a night club with a dancer with stars on his skin.

[eirist]

Points of No Return

SCRIBBLE #5 : NOISE BARRAGE 

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot scribble.

Rating: T (Mawkish)

Note: I like the idea of the swordsman experiencing something normal. We’ve been hyping about his monstrous strength and abnormality too much.

Summary: Tell the cook to stop whining.

He has a headache.

Not that he would admit it. He was, after all, not one to complain about any physical pain.

But damn, he is human. He does succumb to one every now and then.

And it put him in a rather 'sensitive' mood as Usopp phrased.

That long-nose sniper will get it later.

He'd go with Robin's description any time. Temperamental sounds much better.

That's why he holed himself up in the crow’s nest under the guise of 'meditating' so no stupid crewmate will disturb him.

For thirty minutes he'd been trying to catch a wink. But sleep seemed elusive. Which is rare considering that he can sleep anytime, anywhere.

His headache was increasing by the hour, but he refrained from asking any medicine from Chopper. He did survive those instances where he suffered from it before. Why start taking one now?

His forehead creased in annoyance. He was more pissed with the fact that the headache was damn irritating rather than painful and stopping him from doing any of his normal activity.

Maybe it's from alcohol depletion? That stupid cook put a temporary ban on their liquor supply since it was dwindling down and as they were nowhere near any island (as per Nami's charts), there's no saying when they can restock.

Stupid swirly brows.

Something touched his forehead, making the crease disappear as he inhaled the familiar scent of mikans.

He slowly opened an eye and stared questioningly at the face hovering just above him.

"Hey," Nami said brushing another kiss on his forehead. "You alright?"

He managed a small smile before closing his eye again. "Your smell is soothing."

He heard her giggle. "I brought you sake," she whispered conspiratorially. She must've nicked one for him, hopefully right under that ero-cook's stupid nose.

"You're heaven sent."

There was a giggle again before her lips touched his for a light kiss. "If that still doesn’t make you feel better, go see Chopper later alright?"

"No promises."

"Girlfriend's order!"

He opened his eye again to look at her. He was about to utter a protest but Nami beat him.

"Or I'll tell Chopper what's up and send him here to look at you," she added the threat knowing how obstinate he can be. She left a quick kiss on his cheek before standing up and exiting the crow's nest.

The moment he opened the galley door, his headache worsened from the sound of dinner chaos.

The sake did wonders and it helped put him to sleep. But neither it nor the nap did anything for his headache.

And since he was ordered and threatened with the use of the terms 'girlfriend' and 'Chopper' respectively, he forced himself to climb down the nest to finally seek proper medical treatment.

Before Nami decides to give him her own.

He trudged inside to grab some dinner first. Choruses of 'Zoro!' greeted him, making his head pound harder than before.

"Oi Zoro!" His captain shouted, his happy voice making his ears ring. "Dinner time! Let's eat! Let's eat!"

His chant was joined by the Usopp, Franky and Brook and it took all of Zoro's willpower not to unsheathe his swords and Tatsumaki their sorry asses.

"Zoro," Robin called calmly. She politely nudged a plate in front of the vacant seat beside her, nodding at him to sit down beside her. Far from the mayhem.

Thank heavens; he had at least one nakama who have a LOT of sense in her.

"Where's..." he started to ask the but was interrupted by Franky's holler of 'aw' and 'super' while shaking his hips.

He just sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose. Good grief.

"Are you ok Zoro?" Chopper asked, sensing that something was off with the swordsman the moment he entered the galley.

"I—"

"Ah my Nami-swaan!" Sanji suddenly, very loudly crooned out of nowhere.

He exhaled sharply. All the noise around him was making him feel like somebody was beating his head with taiko bachi-s.

“Let me get that for you my love!” Sanji offered, grabbing the tray the navigator was holding.

“Err… thanks Sanji-kun.”

“Where do you want me to bring this tea my sweet?”

Nami smiled. “Give it to Zoro, Sanji-kun.”

“Eh?”

“You heard me,” the navigator’s smile widened as she emerged from the kitchen to take a seat beside Zoro.

Sanji followed suit, a bit shocked. He initially thought the navigator was preparing the tea for herself.

It was for the third rate swordsman?

Fuming and with hands trembling, he set the tray down in front of Zoro.  

Despite his headache, Zoro found it amusing. “Thanks, cook.” He smirked at the blond chef who was gritting his teeth.

“I hope you scald your tongue you bastard.”

Ignoring Sanji, he took the cup to drink the tea Nami had so graciously made for him.

“I hope it burns your throat you damn muscle head.”

Zoro just zoned him out. One thing worse than the noises created by his crewmates…

…was the sound of swirly brows bellyaching and grating his nerves.

And he did not want to handle any of that right now damn it.

“And while you are at it, I hope you choke on it you shitty swordsman! HOW DARE YOU OBLIGE NAMI-SAN TO—”

He was cut off by the sound of the tea cup banging on the table.

The rest of the crew stopped their antics when they realized another Zoro-Sanji fight was about to ensue.

The two-thirds of the Monster Trio glared at each other threateningly.

Then Zoro deliberately looked away and nonchalantly dropped his forehead on Nami’s shoulder.

“Tell the cook to stop whining.”

Everyone—save for Robin—stared at them. Sanji had his mouth hanging open.

“Sanji-kun, stop it.” Nami surprisingly requested, placing a hand on Zoro’s head affectionately.

Now the noise of almost everyone choking from astonishment was good enough to alleviate his headache just a bit.

But even better was the sound of the cook wailing.

[moonbelt]

»if by chance

↳ soulmate au | college au

⇢ pairing: mark tuan | reader

⇢ genre:  fluff + soft angst 

⇢ word count: 8.825

author’s note: uh, so it turns out i’m a sucker for soulmate aus. thanks anon for requesting! hope this is as fluffy as you wanted!!

It was a stupid idea, you admit, to have a random name permanently inked on your wrist just because you wanted to dodge the bullets that came with not having a soulmate in modern society. It also didn’t help that the name you’d chosen had little to no importance to you and every time you thought of it, it seemed to be mocking you.  

Like right now, as you hastily type the concluding lines of your final lab report and flip through your notebook to find a sentence you planned to quote, it sat there in full black swirling letters.  

Mark, you didn’t even know a Mark. The only Mark you’d ever known was back in fifth grade, and you were sure he wasn’t your soulmate because for whatever it’s worth, the both of you had hated each other. Before he moved across states the day of your birthday, never to be seen again. Even though you were skeptical to this whole soulmate for life thing, you were absolutely sure that the system wouldn’t pair the two of you together.  

You'd picked the name on a whim — it was the first thing to filter through your mind. The tattoo artist had asked you, repeatedly, if you were sure you wanted it but it felt wrong to choose anything else. So you walked out of there with your first ever tattoo.

Raising your head to examine the work you’ve typed up you’re met with a blank screen with a small loading signal as the computer begins the process of shutting down. Frantically, you bang your fists on the keyboard praying to a higher power that what you think is happening is not.

“No, no, no!” You watch as the device completely shuts down, dragging your unsaved hard work along with it. “You can't do this to me!”  

But indeed it does, and for the second time in the span of ten minutes, your eyes fixate on the writing on your wrist. Again, Mark seems to be sneering at you. Your face falls into your palms, just the thought of redoing your report is enough to bring you to the edge of tears. You’d already forgotten to do the last online quiz, so this was supposed to bring your grade up to your standards, but it looks like the Universe was conspiring against you.  

You don’t realize when the first round of waterworks start to fall from your eyes until they land on your hands. God, you’d just dedicated two and a half hours of your life to this lab and to be honest, you’re still in shock that the computer crashed. So here you are, seated at one of the computers sparsely stationed around your dorms study lounge, crying yourself out.  

It is times like this that you wish you had a soulmate that you were inexplicably attuned to. The stories your friends had relayed down to you about theirs always seemed to borderline with them balancing each other out. How if one of them was sad, the other could always find ways to lug them out of their slump. You harrumph at that. What an absolute lie. There was no way someone like that existed, especially for you. When everyone else was busy getting stamped with names on their hands, you got imprinted with static silence.  

High school had to have been the worst four years you could’ve endured. Being embarrassed that you were the only person you knew to not have any sort of mark on your body that tied you to someone else, you remember actively wearing sweaters that covered your entire arms. And it had worked, at first, but then mistakes happen. Suddenly, you were serving as the token soulmate-less in your classmates jokes.  

The recalling of these events brings you to the second round of waterworks. Ah, you hate this. On a good day, you aren't a crier, but you believe it to be justified at this point. Just thinking about the number of words you have to re-write is enough to send you into a fit of madness. At least the study lounge is empty, and no one can see as you break down.  

"I'm sorry but, are you okay?"

Your head whips up from your hands, and through your blurry vision, you observe the person standing in front of you. It's a guy, you think. Your mind is in such a state of disarray that nothing particularly makes sense.  

"Oh my god..." You choke out completely mortified by the turn of events. Great, it was bad enough that you were crying in the study lounge, but it just had to be the icing on the cake that someone would walk-in on you while doing it.  

You're sure he feels awkward by the situation as well, and your thoughts are reaffirmed by the little glances he keeps taking around the room. "Are you okay?" He clears his throat, repeating his question.

"I'm fine. Great actually," you say forcing a smile into your voice. Lifting your hands to your face, you furiously wipe the strains of the tears off, but they keep coming against your will. "I'm not usually like this," you offer a justification. 

He chuckles nervously, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "You don't look too good though. Did the computer crash?"

"How did you know?" Your eyes widen in surprise, and you practically jump in your seat.  

"Two days ago, I was the same situation," he says softly. "Did you save what you were working on?"

You shake your head, sniffling from the aftermath. "No. I was so stupid; trusting technology."

"Eh, don't beat down on yourself. It happens to the best of us." The boy offers you half a smile as he reaches behind him to produce a canned coffee and a packaged granola bar. "I don't know if this would help but here you go." He passes the snacks to you.  

Gratefully you accept them but don't tell him that you're not a fan of caffeine, but you appreciate his efforts. You smile at him, a lesser strained one than earlier. "Thank you. You really didn't have to get this for me though."

He shrugs, his smile widening a bit. "It's no problem. I couldn't just leave you to cry all by yourself  — I was raised better than that."

There’s a pause as you take in his appearance, now without blurry tears clogging your vision, and you’re thrown aback by the faint recognition like maybe you've seen him before ages ago. A red bandana tied around his forehead, a pen planted behind his left ear. You have the insane urge to stretch out and touch him. Check out for yourself if his hair really is as soft as it looks. Shaking your head, you scatter the thoughts away and blame your feelings on the lack of sleep.  

"Thanks," you place the drink to the side of your notebook. "I would have preferred if you didn’t see me cry at all.”  

He waves your gratitude away as he slinks into the computer station next to yours, a grin still gracing his face. "I can pretend I didn't if that's what you want."  

"Do what you like. I doubt I have a say in your actions." You say seriously, pushing the power button on the Computer.

"True," he replies as he cocks his head to the side. "You remind me of someone I used to know."

"Isn't that a song?"

"Yes..." he laughs through his sentence, and you find yourself joining in. "But I swear you do remind me of someone. Don't remember who exactly, but someone."

You flex your shoulders, releasing pent-up tension. Maybe the cry fest you just had was a needed evil. "If you don't remember them, then they're probably not important." The computer screen lights up to the login page, and you quickly type in your credentials.  

There's a slight pause as he logs in to his computer before turning his attention back to you. "Not necessarily. But I guess I see your point."

Ripping the granola bar open, you take a bite of it and relish in it. It had been hours since you'd eaten anything, focusing all your energy on completing semesters work in a few hours. And now you had to rewrite a whole essay in an hour, you didn't have the time to sit around thinking about how much time you'd already wasted. So you crack your knuckles and pull open a new file to begin working on.  

He must sense that you're in no mood for small talk because instead of continuing the conversation, he allows it fall into comfortable silence. Choosing to rather drag his phone from his pocket and resume playing a racing game. Sticking by his promise to keep you company for the next hour. You're not sure why he feels the need to do it, but at the same time, you can't find it in you to complain.  

The both of you spend your time together majorly in silence that’s decorated with your occasional screams of agony every fifteen minutes when you check the time. He laughs every time but still manages to get you to calm down, you don’t know why but his unblemished honesty and somewhat witty humor does the trick.  

As it turns out, he's an English major — something you don’t expect because for some reason he doesn’t look like one. To that, he asks "what is an English major supposed to look like?" And even though you're tempted to tell him you'd always pictured your high school English teacher as the standard, you instead bite your lip before steadily going back to your work.  

When you finally finish the paper, three minutes before it's due and still bedridden with grammatical errors you're too tired to realize exist, you jump up from your seat with hands raised to the heavens.  

"Yes!"  

The boy jumps alongside you, you find yourself grasping his arm and jumping ecstatically unable to hold in your happiness. Your semester isn't ruined, your hard work wasn't for nothing, and most importantly you'd completed the damned lab.  

"It's done, it's actually done." You say, still in a state of shock. "I'm not gonna fail."

"I doubt you'd ever fail but, it is amazing that you finished within the hour." The smile on his face, if possible, widens. "Somehow I feel proud of you. I could never do that."

"Given normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be able to either. I guess you're like my lucky charm."

He scoffs at that, a look of disdain crossing his features. "Nah, that title is reserved for your soulmate. Is it not?"

Your train of thought falters at his words, and you're tempted to scoff back at him. Maybe the title would be reserved if you had one. The system had fucked up, and you knew better than to hold out hope for someone that wasn't going to appear. Unconsciously, your fingers wrap around your wrist in an attempt to hide Mark. From the boy or from yourself, you don’t know.  

"Not really," you mumble. "I mean who does that? Reserve stuff for people you don't even know?"

"You'd be shocked," he offers you a small smile. "Anyways, it was nice meeting you. Hopefully, if we meet again, it wouldn’t be with you crying."

"Don’t you ever get tired of being honest?" You refrain from scoffing at his bluntness by grabbing your backpack from the floor and throwing it against your back.  

Shrugging, he stuffs his hands deep into his pockets. "Not really. If you're honest about things, people know what to expect from you."

"Bet your soulmate loves that." You say with laughter in your voice. Bending down a bit, you log out of the computer and click the restart icon.  

"Mm, maybe..." His voice trails off. "Anyway, I'll see you around," he says, turning on his heel and starting the walk to his room.  

You have no idea why you reach out and latch onto his arm with a sort of vigor you don’t recognize. But once you’ve done it, you can't remember why you decided to hold him back. You stutter a little before the words fall out, beginning and ending with one another.

"Thank you for staying with me. I really do appreciate it."  

"Don’t sweat it," he flashes you a lopsided grin. "Like I said; I was raised with basic manners."  

Prying your fingers from his forearm, you let out a nervous laugh. He cocks an eyebrow at you, maybe he can tell that you still have something you want to say? Whatever it is — that look in eyes — pushes the question out.  

"If you don’t mind me asking. What's your name?"  

He's not expecting such a mundane question, and if you're honest with yourself, you don’t quite understand why you have the overwhelming urge to know what it is. The universe isn't your best friend, it never has, so you can't fathom why all of sudden it feels like the strings of your safely created world are in his hands.

Just as he opens his mouth to answer you, his cell phone lights the room with a ping! And on cue, he pulls it from his back pocket to examine the text message. Quickly he types his reply, and you move to stand at the side wondering what exactly, in the name of all hell, are you doing? This isn't you. Well, to be frank, nothing that has happened so far is you. You don’t cry in the study lounge, you don’t allow someone you don’t know keep you company, and most importantly, you don’t go around asking people for their names because they bestowed one act of kindness on you.  

When he finishes the conversation on his phone, he angles his body your way. An amused smile on his face.  

"Mark."

Now you’ve had your fair share of heart-stopping moments. Once in fourth grade when you fell down a flight of stairs and broke your jaw. Another was in seventh grade when you accidentally mailed your love letter to everyone in your class instead of the one person that mattered. But none of that could compare to right now. Time becomes an inexplicable concept because regardless of how much rationality you have, it stops.  

He doesn’t give you the chance to say anything, not that you have the words anyway before he's waving at you and rushing out and down the hall. Leaving you alone with your thoughts, Mark, and an empty study lounge. Your mind must be in a delusional state because for some reason Mark seems to heat up. You don’t know why you don’t know how. But for everything you do know, you don’t want this feeling to stop.

"I know you said you don’t like parties, but I'm begging here," Jackson says as he pulls you into a hug from behind.  

"If you know what I said why are you making me repeat myself?" You roll your eyes, reaching above your head to the cupboard and pulling out a pack of microwaveable popcorn. "I hate parties Jackson, you know this."  

He pouts, resting his head on your shoulder and tilting it up at you. "But if you don’t come with me I'll be all alone. Is that what you want?"

"You have other friends," you don’t want to laugh at his words, but you do. "Yugyeom would love to go with you."  

"It's different. You're my best friend [y/n]. What kind of friend would I be if I allowed you to wallow in pain alone on a Friday night?" He doesn’t wait a second for your reply. "A bad one, that’s what."  

"But today’s movie night."

"We can have the movie night tomorrow," Jackson releases you from his death grip to flip your body to face him. "But today is the last party of the semester."

You wave the popcorn sachet in his face. "You want me to choose a party over Moana? Do you not know me?"

Sighing, he rolls his eyes and moves closer to the counter to pick up his glass of water. Ah, you know what he's doing. A master of guilt-tripping you into doing stuff you'd never do otherwise. You can already imagine what his next words are going to be.  

"What if you finally meet your soulmate there? You act like you don’t care if you find them, but I know you, and I can tell that you want to."

That’s not quite right. You despise the fact that you haven't told your best friend the truth about the name on your wrist and how it was all made up, but you think you’ll despise his pity even more. The whole reason as to why you got it inked in the first place was because everyone always looked at you some way when they realized that you didn’t have a soulmate. It wasn't quite prejudiced but more 'thank God, that’s not me.' And even though you've had Mark for two years already, you know better than to think it to be the same as the real thing.  

"Plus even if you don’t find them, you get to spend the night with the actual love of your life; me." He says with a smug look as he tosses the empty cup into the sink.  

Throwing the sealed popcorn paper bag on the counter, you admit your defeat. "I'm only going because I know you're gonna get drunk off your ass and call me to drive you home."

He nods his head in mock agreement. "Yes, yes. Thank you for being amazing."

Parties have always had a weird imbalance in your heart. Most times you thought them to be ridiculously loud and all people used them for was to justify why they hooked up with the resident bad boy on campus. On the other hand, it did give you access to free booze and give you a window to human interaction. Albeit a slurry and impaired one.  

And today your body is leaning towards the first half. On a good day, you’ll mingle a bit and get slightly buzzed, but the music is throwing you off. You can’t stop thinking about how your man-made mark had reacted, slightly, to human Mark. The rational part of your brain knew it was simply an illusion but the fanatical part of you was clinging to it like it was the key to life.  

You groan as you grab a solo cup from your friend’s hand and down it in one gulp.

“Whoa, slow down tiger.” Naru laughs as she rubs your back lightly. “I thought you said no drinking tonight.”

Wincing as it goes down your throat, you hiss out. "I thought so too."

She snickers at you, taking the empty cup from your hands and placing it neatly on the table next to her. "Jackson owes me 10 bucks."  

"You guys bet on me?"

"Of course. How long before [y/n] cracks? I said 30 minutes, Jackson said not at all."

You twist your lips up at her. "Really Naru?"

Naru shrugs at you, a smile still on her lips. "What? You looked stressed out. Do you have a crush or something?"

"No..." You don’t exactly know what it is.  

"You do, don’t you?" Naru pipes up with interest. "Did you find The One?" She nudges her shoulder against yours, wiggling her eyebrows.

You shake your head. "Not yet."  

At this point, you’re willing to crawl down a hole and die. No, scratch that. You want to hurl yourself at the sun. You’re ready to go play beer pong, which you suck at, in hopes of getting stupidly drunk, so you don’t have to remember anything for the next hour or so.  

“I need a drink. Do you want any?” You change the topic as you push yourself off the wall. Turning your gaze to the crowd of people littering between the living room and kitchen.  

The place isn’t packed from wall to wall, but there are still enough people around that it makes you feel queasy just thinking about the struggle to get there.  

Naru shudders at your offer. "I feel like I'm about to pass out so no." After a beat, she adds. “Do you know where Jackson disappeared off to?”

"Beer pong, I think."  

She pats you on the shoulder and shoots you a wink as a goodbye before she’s weaving her way down the stairs and into the basement. You take a deep breath before you dive into the swarm and begin navigating your way, avoiding as many elbows as you possibly can.

It takes you more than six minutes to get to the kitchen, and you’re immediately reminded that this is Jaebum's party. He’s the center of attention, bickering with a group of people. Some you recognize from hasty glances in hallways, some you don’t. You catch his eye on your way to the cooler station at the back, and he gives you a small nod of acknowledgment.

You’ve been to a handful of Jaebum hosted parties all because of Jackson’s friendship with him, but you’d never actually hung out with him. Now that you think about it, you never really spent time with any of Jackson’s other friends. Mainly because the few first times you’d met them it had been so awkward that you willingly uninvited yourself to other events they planned.  

Waving at him, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Maybe you should’ve connected better with Jackson's friends, perhaps then you wouldn’t be stranded in a house party with such a weary way out.  

“Well, don’t you look bored,” the voice comes out in a drawl. “Let me guess Jackson dragged you out again. You’ve got to learn to say no [y/n].”

You roll your eyes as you reach past Yugyeom to grab a canned drink from the cooler. Yugyeom is a friend. You aren’t that close to him, but whenever you stayed over at Jackson’s apartment, he always seemed to be there. Filling up space. He even dragged you along to a dance practice once because he didn’t want to be alone and Jackson had been busy doing… stuff.  

“I did say no. For the past two months actually,” you answer as you pop open your can and take a swig.

He doesn’t say anything after that. Instead, the two of you stand in solidarity and drink. After a while when you’re more than considerably tipsy, the both of you engage in small talk which continues until a guy across the room beckons Yugyeom over. After a minute’s indecision, he obliges. “Anyways, I’ll see you around. We should hang out more often.”

Since you don’t disagree with the idea, you make sure to smile extra wide, so it doesn’t seem like you're faking it. “Sounds good.”

Once he’s slipped past you and gone over to his group of friends you are thrown back to reality. The bass music is pumping at a deafening volume, you wouldn’t be surprised if the cops showed up to shut the party down. People are everywhere. Bumping into you, giggling, dancing, hooking up. You start to feel insignificant compared to everyone else here. All these people trying to make moments in their life while you’re standing in the corner of the kitchen right next to the trash can.  

Your feet have begun to ache. The time on your watch reads 12:04 AM, you let out a strained sigh. You know for a fact that neither Jackson or Naru will be leaving until at least 1 AM. Turning on the heel of your foot you make your way out of the kitchen and try to find the back door. You’ve been to Jaebum’s house enough times to know that his parties never extended to the backyard. There really wasn’t any space there anyway, and you guess it made it harder to manage if people were everywhere.  

Outside the air is fresh and frigid against your skin and you’re tempted to call it a night and just head back to the dorms on your own. You’re so focused on the weather that you don’t notice the figure sitting a good foot from you. Your feet are planted steadily on the back porch, you feel somewhat elevated. Maybe you could just waste time here until you had to leave.  

You plop down on the porch’s steps with a thud and then a scream as you come face-to-face with the one very thing you’ve been trying all night to forget. You're thrown away by how different he looks up-close and with a spark in your system. Almost like you’re staring at a painting. The urge to run your hands through his hair has returned, you thought you had won that war in the study lounge, but apparently, you had not.  

“W-what are you doing here?” It’s a miracle that you don’t fumble your words.  

Mark offers you a slight smile, takes a long gulp of his beer, coughs a little bit before he raises his hand up and waves a little. “You look awfully familiar. Have we met before?”

You try to return his smile, but in the back of your mind, you’re positive that it most likely comes out as a grimace.  

“Uh, yeah we had —” Your sentence is cut off by Mark snapping his fingers. He reminds you of a light bulb with electricity constantly flowing in.  

"You're the crier, aren't you?" He seems pleased with his answer. "It's been what? A week? Since we met, how you holding up?"

There's a stone wedged in your throat at his nickname for you. Fuck, why did it have to be crier of all things? It brings back a memory you had almost forgotten. The Mark from fifth grade had incessantly called 'crier' day in day out. All because you had tripped on air, fell down a set of stairs and broke your jaw. You were pretty sure if you ever came across the Mark from that time, you were going to blow a major blood vessel.  

You nod, not trusting your voice as another breeze sweeps past and you drag your arms closer to your chest.

He sighs as he leans back on his arms and raises his face to the stars. “So, what are you doing out here?”

“Nothing really. I’d just rather be out here than in there.”

Nodding in agreement, he finishes the rest of his beer before he crushes the can to half its size. You look down at your folded fingers. The silence cascading around you is comfortable, and you don’t feel the need to make conversation. It dawns on you that the silence you experience around him has never been awkward.  

“Ah, this feels nice,” Mark breathes out. “Still. Quiet. Sometimes everything just gets so loud, and I can barely think.”

“To be fair, you are at a party.”

He grins at that. You can tell he’s drunk by the asymmetrical smile on his face, but regardless, you can’t help but smile back. “True. Promise not to tell anyone, but I hate these parties. I only show up out of obligation.”

You raise your drink to your lips. “Relatable. Honestly, I came for the booze.”

His laugh is honestly like a barricade of brick walls crashing into each other. So profound and sonorous it makes the hairs on your back stand up straight. You catch yourself laughing along with him. You don’t want to, but you tell yourself to slow your roll, after all, Mark is the epitome of a nice guy. He most likely laughs at all his friends jokes — out of obligation.

“So that’s why you’re here? Not because my sparkling personality drew you in?”

You realize that although Mark is a man of refreshing candor without alcohol lighting his system, he's more if it were possible, honest to a fault with it.  

“I didn’t even know you’d be here.”

The back door swings open right at that moment and a girl stumbles out. Hair wild and untamed. She’s smiling broadly but at the same time looks confused. You watch as her eyes illuminate as soon as they fall upon Mark. She reaches down and flicks his forehead with her forefinger and thumb.

“Have you been here all night?” She rolls her eyes to all heavens. “C’mon, we gotta go.”

In the midst of this, Mark doesn’t lower his focus from you. He seems, for the most part, bent on pretending the girl behind him isn’t here. You drop the empty can from your mouth and place it gingerly beside your foot. With a grunt, Mark lifts his head up and squints his eyes at the girl, you assume to be his friend.  

“Why? This party is finally getting fun. You’re ruining it.”

She scoffs, flipping her hair. “Uh-huh. You’re having so much fun, I’m jealous,” her eyes cast sideways to you. “Jinyoung’s drunk off his ass and keeps asking for you.”

There’s a moment of hesitation before he pushes himself up on the balls of his feet. His gaze is unwavering. It feels surreal just being near him, you don’t know if this feeling comes from how many drinks you’ve had or if it’s something deeper. But you don’t want to question it.  

“In case you don’t remember, I’m Mark,” he says, and immediately you forget the girl behind him. He smirks down at you.

“[y/n],” you quickly stand up as well. All your choices this night catch up to you, and you waver a bit, his hands reach out to stable you. You can feel embarrassment creep up your neck by the second.

"[y/n]," he airs your name out.

He licks his lips, you’re sure he’s not doing it sexually however that doesn’t stop you from interpreting it that way. “I would ask you for your phone number but my phone died,” Mark says, running a line through his hair vigorously with his hands. It falls down in waves over his eyes which hold a semblance of confusion.  

You’re about to offer your phone and get his number instead when he snaps his fingers. Eureka! He has a knack for snapping his fingers when he's drunk, you observe. He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and brings out a blue pen. Handing it to you he says, “would you do the honors of writing your phone number down?”

“Where?”  

The girl — his friend — is becoming more agitated as the minutes tick on. She keeps tapping her foot and muttering incoherent words under her breath. You focus your attention back on Mark. You don’t know her, and you don’t want to. You cock your eyebrow at him. He chuckles, thrusting his palm forward. Carefully, like maybe he’s glass, you hold his hand and fastidiously write down your phone number. His fingers are slim and long, you kind of want to trace it with yours, but you control yourself.  

Once you’ve finished, he beams at you. Your eyes fall on his lips. You are curious about how they would feel on yours. They look like they could crush you, and you feel like maybe you’d like it.  

“I promise to call you,” his words are almost drowned out by his friend dragging him by the arm.  

“Let’s go, Mark! What am I? Your babysitter?!”

He puts one foot through the door. “Guess, I’ll see you around [y/n].” His grin doesn’t slip away from his face, but it does shift into something smaller.

Before you can even find the words to say the door slams shut and you’re thrown back into the dead air. Confounded, you sit down on the steps once more. There’s a giddy feeling in your chest. Actually no, it's something more. Something you don’t know how to explain. It feels like you’ve reached the peak of a mountain. Exhilarating but scary. A compulsion to run straight through the party and relay everything that transpired back to Jackson and Naru runs through your veins.  

You cover your face with your palms. The smile on your lips threatens to crack your cheeks open. Time seems to, again, have stopped. Your heart beats so loud you wouldn't be surprised if it were louder than the music thumping through the house. For the second time that day you want to crawl in a hole, but it's for an entirely different reason. This time it's because you're afraid, afraid you wouldn't be able to hide how bubble-headed and flustered you feel.

Winter break comes and goes without human Mark calling you, and Mark smirks smugly every time you hold your phone out and wait. You try to push the situation to the farthest point of your mind by drowning yourself in books. But even then, you find yourself researching on the soulmate-less. From what you know, and from what you gather, the population without soulmates is a rarity. And contrary to what your high school peers had told you they do not, in fact, die alone.  

However, that does nothing to lift the weight on your chest and you must not be doing a good job of hiding your emotions because Naru decides, after days of deliberating, to lay down the truth. 

"Are you still worrying about your crush? [y/n], come on, it's a crush it'll fade away." She says now as the two of you move the last of your boxes into your dorm.  

"I'm not thinking about him." 

"Yes, you are. I know you." 

"Honestly, Naru. I'm not," you lie. "I'm just thinking about all the work I'll have to do this semester." 

She rolls her eyes at you as she dumps a box near your bedside table. "Whoever this crush of yours is, it will never compare to the name on your wrist. So, don’t get invested." 

You mutter under your breath while you squat down to tear open one of the boxes. "I'm not." 

"Whatever you say," Naru raises her hands up in surrender and lets the conversation go. "You hungry? I am." 

Abruptly you stand up to your full height, thankful that Naru can read how awkward you get whenever someone brings up this whole soulmate business. You grab your wallet from the table. "I'll go to the vending machine and get something, yeah?" 

Naru flops down on your bed. "Can I get a Cheetos?" 

You nod your head before you're dashing out the room and out to the hallway. You won't lie. The more you hear the word soulmate, the more the weight on your chest seems to cave in. You take a sigh of relief when you realize the pathway is empty and begin making your way to the Laundry room where the vending machine is located.  

It's when your debating what item you want that the door swings open and in comes Mark. He looks stunned to see you there in your Spider-Man shirt and jeans and then he looks quite happy to see you. For reasons, you don’t know. The smile on his lips is full on frontal, and you have to remind yourself that he probably has a soulmate out there and whatever this is between the two of you isn't going to last.  

"Oh God, you're not ignoring me are you?" 

"W-what?" You stutter a bit.  

He moves a little closer, still smiling but wary at the same time. "I don’t know if you didn’t get my messages, calls or if you’ve been avoiding me. So I'm giving you an out if that’s what you want." 

"Well, I did not get anything from you. I thought you were ignoring me," your sentence ends with your nervous laughter as you grab the nape of your neck. 

"Do you think maybe I was texting the wrong number?" The reality of it settles in, and he lets out a wimpy sound. "They probably think I'm a weirdo. Oh God." 

You laugh at his antics as you make a random decision on the vending machine, clicking the first thing you see. "What did you say?" 

He sighs, devastated. "I basically asked you out on a date and got turned down by radio silence." 

You choke on air. "You what?" You give up on trying to constrain your laughter, opting to allow it flow out to the point it brings tears to your eyes.  

"Hey, I made a promise to call you. Even as a drunk, I wouldn't make a promise I can't keep." 

"Honest to a fault." You say as you bend down to grab your paid item only to find an empty slot. "Did it just eat my money?" Hastily you stand up, scoffing at the machine. "Really?" 

"Try hitting it?" Mark offers his suggestion, and soon enough the both of you are frantically smacking the life out of the inane vending machine that refuses to give you your money's worth and laughing so loud that you forget that you're in a laundry room in a dorm housing three hundred other people.  

Once you've let it all out of your body a vertiginous feeling washes over you as you take a deep breath. You don’t know how it happened, or maybe you do, but without warning, you're beyond close to Mark. So close you can feel his little releases of breath that fan against your skin. Your eyes latch onto his lips and for a second time you know he probably doesn’t mean it to be sensual, but regardless your body reacts to it.  

The person to break the silence is him. "Would you find it highly inappropriate if I kissed you right now?" 

"I don’t think I have a problem with that... but your soulmate might." 

"I doubt that," he bites his lower lip and you watch as his eyes light a fire you can't contain. "I don’t believe in assigned soulmates. Some higher power shouldn't tell me who to love." 

You agree, closing the space between the two of you by etching forward. "Right. We should be able to decide who we love and who we don’t." A burning feeling chases up your arm, and even though it stings, it feels strangely calm. 

"I think I'm probably going to scare you away." 

"How?" 

"Because it scares me, how attracted I am to you. It's not even a crush, maybe it is, I don't care. All I know is that life is too short to be classifying the way someone who likes another person into categories. I just want to be around you and make you smile. Maybe I'm exaggerating and giving you too much credit, but it scares me how the most trivial things around you don’t seem that way. It scares me how my body responds to you. It's really fucking scary." 

You can hear the unrhythmic beating of his chest. You can feel the heat emitting from his body. You like the feeling of his heat hitting your skin. And with the expression on his face, you wish for a moment that you could tell him the truth behind your predicament. 

You clear your throat. "If you're gonna kiss me and then say you just want to be friends, get it—" 

Without a second thought, he puts his hands on either side your face and your heart spikes up as the rest of the room fades to dust.  

And when his lips come crashing down on yours, you forget how to breathe. He tastes like butterscotch and mint, and you never knew those two were the best concoctions the universe could've created. He traps your waist in his hands and squeezes once, twice, and sets your lips apart and ablaze simultaneously. It became an urgent need to feel him. You clamp onto his hair and get taken aback by how soft it is. It feels like you're being burnt alive. Butterflies set a nest in your stomach and flutter up to your neck before they break out from your mouth. He feels like the ocean; calm, gentle and serene yet deadly like it could sweep you off into the distance at any time. There's a silent gasp as the two of you broke up for air. 

You're breathing so loud the ramifications hit your skull and fizzle back to your toes. Contrary to other kisses you’ve had, your eyes aren't dazed. No, they are alight. Sparked up with a new flame. You swear to yourself that even soulmates can't feel something like this. And for the first time, you're not hung up on finding that non-existent person. You can't get your heart to stop pounding, and by the look in Mark's eyes, you don’t doubt that he's doing the same thing.  

"That was... interesting," you finally say when you've caught your breath. You remember now that Naru is probably wondering why you haven't returned from war and you burst out in giggles. 

"Wow, you really do remind me of crier," Mark says joining in your laughter.  

Something dies in your throat. "Crier?" Your mind goes back to weeks ago when you'd first met him. "The person you said you couldn’t remember?" 

Running a hand through his hair, he grins at you. "Yeah. We were best friends for two years but I had to move without notice, so I'm pretty sure I'm hated now." 

"What year was that?" 

He upturns his head in thought. "I left after eight grade." 

Your eyes widen in alarm and not from the all-time high that you're on. Your chest fastens up again. "Did this crier trip and break their jaw?" 

"Yes," he snaps his fingers. "And once they even mixed hot sauce in my ketchup. I kinda wonder if I'll ever meet crier again." 

"A-are you Mark Tuan?" 

As much as you don’t know how to feel about this turn of events, you can't deny that a little part of you hopes it's real. It's now when the air seems electrified that you fully recall the details that led to the Mark of fifth grade leaving town.  

You hadn't always loathed him, of course, you hated his nickname for you, but he had been one of the few friends you had back then. And you'll be honest, you did cry a lot when you were younger, and kids made fun of you for that. The Mark from that time had always stood by you, during lunch every day, the two of you walked home together almost every day. Every day had become slightly better with him on your side. 

Then one day, he was gone. Suddenly your birthday that you'd been looking forward to became one of the worst times for your 15-year-old self. You'd decided then and there that you’ll hate him, forget about him, do anything in your power—

"Do you remember me now?" 

"I thought you left," the words come out in a whisper.  

He takes a step back from you, casting a downward look to his converses. "I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have disappeared like that, but I didn’t know I was leaving until the day of. I--I tried to call you but it never went through, and when I finally came back, your family had already moved someplace else..." 

"What about now? Why didn’t you tell me who you are? If you knew who I was why did you hide it?" Your tone is accusatory, but your mind is running laps against each other. Nothing is making sense. And despite the fact that you don’t blame him for what happened or how you handled the situation, you still very much feel... cheated? 

"Because you didn’t even remember me [y/n]," Mark lets out an exasperated sigh. "We had a History class together during Freshman year, and you didn’t recognize me—we sat next to each other. I called out to you in the cafeteria once, maybe you didn’t hear me. Who knows. I thought you were ignoring me and then I saw you crying in the study lounge and—" 

"—and the cycle started all over again." 

Are you okay? 

The possibility of crying is becoming a more likely outcome as the second's pass on. And the more you blink your eyes to keep them at bay, the more your eyes start to glisten.  

"Were you never gonna tell me that it was you?" 

"I wanted you to like me for the me now. Not the me that was your best friend years ago. I've changed, you've changed. I just wanted you to not like someone that may never come back."

You scoff at that. "What's the difference between the two?" 

Mark finally looks up to connect his eyes with yours, and the impression on your chest breaks way. "Me then had a soulmate. Me now does not." 

Scrunching your eyebrows, you cock your head at him. "I don’t understand." 

"I had one, but it didn’t feel right. I had already met you, and they couldn’t compare to it. Not even a little. And I guess when I decided that I could never love them like how I do you, the mark just faded. Everyone acts like predestined soulmates are the best thing but, sometimes they are not. I haven't got a new one since then, so I guess that means the system accepted my begging." 

You throw your arm out and show him Mark. The Mark that you created on your skin. It wasn’t given to you by the higher-ups. Instead, it was something you unknowingly had wanted.  

"I got this done two years ago. I never knew why but it seemed like the only thing I would like permanently."  

He tries to hide the shit-eating smile on his face, but really he can't. It's such a broad smile that you kind of wonder how his cheeks survive the expansion. "Maybe the universe is actually on my side." 

"You think I got this because of you?" You ask incredulously as you fold your arms across your chest.  

Mark shrugs. He doesn’t particularly care why you have his name tattooed on your wrist, the truth is he's beyond ecstatic that his prayers, by some miracle, have come to life. "I pleaded to a deity that you and I get matched up. I don’t need a stupid mark to tell me who I love, but it feels great when you see it stamped in concrete." 

"So what, were you planning on getting my name tattooed on yours? Are you insane?" 

He grins slyly at you as he pulls up his shirt's sleeve to show you his wrist, wherein medium sized letters your name sits proudly. "Maybe so. I got this two years ago too before I started college, and then I met you." 

"You're so fucking insane." 

"So are you. Crier, you got my name on your wrist. I don’t know about you, but I'm claiming you as my soulmate."  

"We're gonna have to start from scratch, you know. Sure we have physical attraction and what not, but that fades away. You have to actually love me. To put in your words: not the me from then but the me now. If I'm taking you as my soulmate, then I don’t want to let you go. Ever." 

In your head, you can list all the problems that come with this. It's a game of tug of war. If you pull too far, then the other person lets go. If you don’t pull at all the other person still let's go due to lack of effort. Either way, there's no winner and— 

Mark moves closer to you. "If you have me now. You have me forever, I promise. I'm willing to change fate with you [y/n]. If that’s not soulmate material, then what in this world is?" 

Change fate, he says. You realize you've started crying when he reaches up and uses a thumb to erase the path the tears are making. But it keeps coming. This is why you hate crying, once you start it just doesn’t stop. Like a waterfall, it pulls and pulls. Mark chuckles at you.  

"What's the thing you're doing right now, crier?"  

You want to punch him. Strike him so hard he feels all the misplaced but warranted hate you harbored towards him for years. How dare he just waltz into your life and try to reclaim the very thing you didn’t want anyone to have?  

"Screw off." 

"I know I've made some mistakes. I thought it over and I want to make it up to you by being honest. I love you [y/n] even if it's a little spark right now, I love you. And our marks might be human-made, but I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?" You ask, looking at him through blurry glasses.  

"Anything." He reaffirms, resting his forehead against yours. "We'll work through anything. I already cheated the system once to get you, and I'll do it again and again and again as long as it means I'll get to spend my better part of forever with you." 

A/N: oh my gosh, i hope people like this and tell me what they think. thank you very much for reading! ahh, please do tell me if you liked this :)

⇢ masterlist

©️ 2017 kai, high-on-food. 

[gray-anxiety]

No Sympathy Facts/ the chaos of my brain

I kept forgetting the damn name

Legit

Like “No… no wHAT????? Oh”

Aella is a name associated with storms and wind, so I gave her that name because I wanted someone who really did embody that

I kept wanting to spell Aella’s name allen smh

This book started when i finally got off my ass and convinced myself to do a mafia au. The entire plot was pulled out of my ass in a period of brainstorming that kept me up until 5:30 the next morning

I actually sketched out the apartment’s layout so I could see it better.

later I actually designed a messy version of what it’d somewhat be like in the sims

Karanese is actually a district in the Attack on Titan universe :)

Each chapter takes me like 2 hours to write simply because I play out each and every ending in my head and choose the best one I’d want to see in a story

Other times I legit just have a feeling like I absolutely know how a chapter plays out like Chapter 3’s murder fight scene. It just came to me and all I had to do was describe it like I had just watched a movie

Chapter one took a total of seven hours to write

The plot twists were created when I asked myself what cliche can I change?

(Except I kept a few just to make fun of it I.E. roommates and badboy x nerdy character because that shit is hilarious and can really show the dynamic of how different each character really is)

Chapter two bore me to death to be honest

An actual example of my brainstorming while writing down facts:

I have no idea what the fuck to do after chapter 3 help

I pretty much said fuck it to planning out a plot and just wung it

Where am I gonna place Hange and the others

What about Eren lol

OH SHIT I JUST HAD THE IDEA THAT HANGE AND AELLA WERE FRIENDS BEFORE AELLA WAS KICKED OUT AOUFHALIUEHFALIUEHF

THEY’D TOTALLY BE LESBIANS FOR EACH OTHER

How’d you come up with the name for No Sympathy?

hilarious answer, actually. I spent two damn hours laying on my bed googling “what’s your mafia nickname” to just messing around with broken languages on google translate until it just popped in my head. Pretty much I was like “oh shit that sounds lit and fearsome lets do it bois” and yeah

I’m actually making this list of fun facts while writing each chapter. I’m going to start working on chapter 4 tomorrow and hopefully get my shit together to make a somewhat good plot??

Lmao I lied I got really fucking lazy and wrote the chapter at 11 at night and published it at midnight

I wrote everything about no sympathy in one iCloud note and titled it “No sympathy; the complete chaos of making a book”

The true main character of No Sympathy is actually Levi since I feel like I understand him completely since I relate to him so much; making Levi the easiest character I’ve written about ever. Though, his true character (in my opinion) doesn’t necessarily shine through in the beginning chapters as Levi don’t get along with new people, but you can see him warm up to Aella by doing her homework, dragging her out of the party, etc.

I’ve realized I have a distinct writing pattern while writing No Sympathy: comma, semi-colon, double dash. (Chapters two and three really showcase it as I wrote those two back to back in the car)

Had I actually had the inspiration and the motivation to write this almost a year ago, I would’ve been writing about the mafia at 13, which is an absolute hilarious thought to think about when I look back to my previous fanfics. Then again, my dumbass 14-year-old self is just as clingy as my dumbass 13-year-old self lmaoo

I gave Aella the same birth day (not year lmao) as mine (September 10) so she’d be 17 during the first month of school and 18 for the rest of the book

Going off of that fact, Levi is exactly 1 year and 8 months older than Aella (I kept his original birthday)

My cat demanded that I gave him cuddles and attention so I had to stop writing for one entire day because he wanted cuddles

Normally my cat just lays on my chest while I write b u t n o he wanted cuddles

If Levi never came into the picture Aella would probably date Hanji (for all of those fellow LGBTQIA+ readers and readers that really love Hanji)

While writing chapter 1 I listened to Ghost by Halsey on repeat and I think if you read while playing the exact song it somewhat shows in the pace I set for readers.

The term ‘block class’ is actually derived from what my own high school (even though I’m not even fully considered a freshman yet jfc) uses when referring to a 90 minute class

The book Technically begins on a Saturday with Levi — the actual power duo meet that Monday (because unlike dumbass schools in real life, their first day of school was on a Monday instead of the Friday before.) on their first day. That Tuesday was chapter 4, Wednesday being chapter 5, Thursday being chapter 6 (we skip Friday because it doesn’t fucking matter in the story lmao), and Saturday being the day of the party.

Writing an x reader but without the reader was really fucking hard, honestly. I couldn’t just randomly say ‘Levi looked over at the H/C girl working on her homework across from him’ as it’d just be weird, so I thought of the next best thing and never described Aella — making her free for interpretation of her looks.

I was going to have Aella have a name reveal like ‘my real name is Y/N…’ but then I was like “No what? Fuck it. Levi already knew from the beginning after looking at her documents.”

No Sympathy was actually going to be an original story, but Levi’s character fit so well I decided to make it a fanfic.

I actually wanted to stop writing after chapter 3 because I didn’t know what to do with the plot, but I asked my friend for help coming up with the plot using the paragraphs of ideas I had to make an actual plot. So, I can successfully say I owe it to her for helping and the one sentence that kept me going in my head: “I want to make a story I’m proud of.” So I fucked up my (nonexistent, really lmao) sleeping and eating schedules and started working on this book everyday even when I didn’t post a chapter that day.

Though, it’s not really specified in the early chapters, Aella was bullied into being hated by the entire school — leaving her to be all alone, which actually happened to me and gave me PTSD after transferring.

Ironically, I gave Aella a ton of reactions and characteristics I would/ just generally have, but I see myself more in Levi, which is probably why I prefer writing about him over Aella.

As of writing this, chapter 5 is currently my favorite chapter as it is a mix of a filler chapter and a regular important chapter still just as important as the rest.

Depression and PTSD actually got in the way of writing so many times I actually am surprised I’ve written so much

As writing has always been my go to for letting out everything (as I have z e r o close friends lmao) I actually don’t realize when I’m done with each chapter until I realize I’m out of ideas for said chapter.

I don’t even realize I write about 2,000 words until it’s like “oh,,”

No Sympathy wasn’t just any fanfic for me, it was like I was actually Aella seeing the entire story unfold from beginning to finish

I tried to push myself to describe more, as I’ve noted while rereading my previous shitty fanfics — I struggled describing everything.

I tried to not have the basic “tch”, “brat”, and just random cursing from Levi unless it was at the exact wrong time (or I just put it in because I could totally see him saying that in said situation)

I tried characterizing Hanji as someone who wasn’t the basic overexcited dumbass most fanfics portray her as — instead I tried thinking of her as an actual person with reactions and different moods  and tried to embody that each time I wrote her

Character development is a huge thing Ive been trying to work on ever since I wrote A Valkyrie and a Mischievous God (though that character development and story sucked ass and I cringe at how popular it’s gotten), and a huge target for it was none other than Aella. At the beginning you could see she felt trapped in an endless cycle of stress and fending for herself, but when Levi came in and was like “lmao I have money you don’t have to stress” she felt like she was in an odd spot, and eventually after she reunited with Hanji she started to feel more free

Parents were completely cut out of this story because I genuinely don’t know how to write them as mine are either states away by choice or always working, so I just had Aella get kicked out and had her entire family gone.

My best ideas surface at 4 am when I’m trying to fucking sleep

Help me

But hey I now have a new passion for this book

I generally didn’t know how to end it

buT THEN I D I D

A huge thing for me, and my entire driving motion for writing this was a simple sentence: “I want to write something I’m proud of.”

Am I proud of this?

Eh. It’s not shitty, I suppose. I could always do better.

Characterization was so difficult for me. I wanted to stray from basic fanfics of an overly hyper Hange (though, I couldn’t help in some situations, but after watching an entire season and a half in one day, you notice personality changes) and write and more serious one — except I’m a damn shitty author with so many grammatical mistakes my ex-mentor would literally rip her hair out.

Writing a book has always been my goal, and I know this is the only thing that will ever come close to it.

I have another Levi x reader planned, but I always hate doing the basic ‘_____’ ‘Y/N’, etc because it literally drives my depressed self I n s a n e when writing

Most times for my outline summaries of the chapters I just put my name in place of Aella lmao

I actually struggled a lot when writing this; sometimes I even broke down thinking no one liked this book or I wasn’t a good enough author to write anymore.

My asshole self mainly spent my summer writing this rip

Currently, as it is July 2nd, I am literally hoping to Levi that I fucking get this done before August or else I’m so fucking screwed with beginning high school and shit.

Oh yeah btw, I’M NOT FUCKING READY FOR THE FINAL SEASON. I’LL BE A DAMN SOPHOMORE AND THAT IN ITSELF K I L L S ME

I don’t know if I’m actually going to continue with this book, but have these collected facts I started writing the moment the first chapter was out :,) It’s already September and my past dumbass was right

High school is kicking my ass

I have another story idea/plot written out and I really like it so idk. I think I’d stop halfway again because I’d think that no one would like it