summary: you find sylus hiding in his office. for good reason.
cw: y/n-esque!emcee (she is very annoying and no one really likes her in this)
a/n: inspired by that ceo x y/n trend where the ceo is overly protective of sweet, innocent and naive y/n. but the ceo here isn't interested in y/n and is far more interested in YOU. i also want to thank the ever so lovely @sysjuicebox-archive for adding onto this idea with her glorious mind, it was so much!
"Mr. Qin?" You call out as you open one of his large office doors, having knocked a few times already. Each knock received no response, making you wonder if your boss had stepped out for something or the other.
Usually an impromptu lunch meeting or an all too often emergency trip to his twin sons' school.
Whatever it is, he hadn't informed you and you remember that Sylus had given you permission to enter his office at any time for whatever reason.
"I trust you," he had said, a rare genuine smile soften his sharp, handsome features. Your heart had been sent off to the races, winning first place with how fast it had been beating. It had been a...moment between you two that replays consistently in your head when you go to bed at time, like clockwork.
You peer into his office, scanning the familiar surroundings as you step in and close the door behind you.
His huge obsidian desk is neatly organised, sealed envelopes and papers stacked into small piles. The outrageously expensive ergonomic chair he loves leaning back in is facing the fall-to-ceiling windows. He was probably taking in the cityscape, his mind drifting far away to avoid an incoming headache.
You set some paperwork on his desk, skirting around it until you're standing in front of the wide window. You immediately notice your apartment building in the not too far distance. As well as the bakery that's a block down from it and off to the east, you can barely make out Sylus' favourite Mediterranean restaurant.
The view, however familiar, engrosses you so much that you don't notice a hand sneaking out from under his desk.
But you feel it latch onto your ankle and scream loudly in shock, kicking it away to press yourself against the window.
With your heart pounding, you look down at where the hand came from and feel immediate anger.
"Was this your idea of a funny joke?" You ask, having spotted Sylus who's hilariously curled up beneath his desk. The space is big but clearly not big enough to hide a 6'4" broad-shouldered man who's famously feared for his sharp intelligence and keen business sense. "I will report you to HR for this."
"Janice in HR loves me so good luck with that," Sylus says smoothly and he isn't wrong. Janice is obsessed with him. "And my intention wasn't to scare you, I simply wanted to grab your attention."
"And you couldn't have just said my name?"
Sylus shakes his head. "She'll hear me otherwise."
You blink. "Who?"
As if on cue, there're three knocks coming from Sylus' door.
"Ooooh Sylus~!" Emcee calls out, her tone sickly sweet.
It makes your stomach churn.
"Oh, her," you deadpan before kneeling on the ground to hide your silhouette from view. "I didn't think you'd be rendered scared by someone half your size and has a quarter of your strength."
"I don't have her time today," Sylus says, now in a low whisper. "She's annoyingly persistent and has been in my office a total of 32 times today."
You check your watch. "But it's only 1 PM."
"I know."
"Goodness gracious."
"Exactly."
There're three more knocks.
"Qinnikins~?" She calls out and you snort, covering your mouth.
"Qinnikins?" You mouth and Sylus shoots you a dreadful look.
Another three knocks.
"I need you to get her away," Sylus murmurs. "She knows I haven't left the building yet because she's—"
"—crazy and a stalker—"
"—right, and I just need her to leave so I can sneak outside."
"Well, isn't this funny?" You say with an amused smile. "Mr. Qin trapped in his own company building by a tiny employee." You move to stand up. "What would your competitors think?"
"That I'm a kind and thoughtful man who doesn't want to hurt said tiny employee's feelings."
You huff a laugh. "Good man."
With a quick pat to his shoulder, you rise up and say, "Hey Emcee, come in."
One of the doors swing open to reveal a pretty woman in a dress that's certainly not HR approved.
"Oh, it's you," Emcee says, immediately disinterested. "I thought Sylus was here. I swear I heard his voice a minute ago."
"I was on call with him," you lie. "Put him on speaker because I was dealing with some paperwork." You gesture to the pile you had brought in. "He's gone out and won't be back until after lunch."
Emcee gives you a look. "And how would you know that?"
You're unbothered by it. "I'm kind of his secretary so it's my job to know."
Emcee bristles; that had hit a sore spot.
"Whatever," she grumbles. "You're not competition anyway so why would I be bothered?"
You wave her off as she slams the door and sigh deeply, bending down to look at Sylus.
"You owe me big time, Qinnikins," you say and Sylus smiles, grateful.
"Then how about I take you out for lunch?" He offers, crawling out of his hiding space to stand at his full height.
How he made that look elegant is beyond you but that doesn't matter because:
"Are you asking me out to lunch?" You aim for playful but your heart's beating a little too fast for you to concentrate.
"Are you saying yes?" Sylus asks and there's a sparkle in those crimson eyes of his.
You swallow deeply.
"...I want pasta," you say and Sylus smirks.
"Anything you want; it's on me."
tags~☆: @blessdunrest @thatweirdomidas
a/n: this will probably become a series, haha! it was fun to write and there's so much more to add. :)
cw: this will eventually become sexually explicit, so mdni from the jump. this is not a dark fic, however, so major tags don't apply.
reader gets an anonymous message at work. this is an anonymous identity x cis-fem reader fic. tags + story blurbs will therefore reflect this. for future readers, please refrain from commenting any spoilers (i will delete + block if they come up).
have fun!
part 1
The company is large, larger than any you've ever worked for. Huge building all its own, not just some leased office in a commercial space. It has its own parking lot, for Christ's sake. You no longer have to shuttle your little chugger of a car into a daily parking lot that charges out the ass.
You get installed in a small quasi-cubicle with a slight partition. You pin a picture of you and your friends at your friend's cottage after your first few weeks when you noticed that other people decorated their spaces openly. You were never going to be bold enough to do it without tacit permission.
Sea legs take awhile, and this is a huge move for your career. You find sanctuary with a team lead, Sasha, who tours you around leisurely, giving you the dos and don'ts — this washroom is a hidden gem, so don't tell anyone else; she gives you extra scoops of guac if you call her miss; don't bother submitting a maintenance ticket, just grab someone if you see 'em and they'll help — until you're at least more comfortable navigating between the different floors to explore a little on your own when you're bored on break.
Work is more interesting and demanding than any other you've held in the past, so you're constantly nose-to-computer otherwise, navigating the online repository of the company's technical guides and user-created templates. You're deep in one when a little pop-up window for the intra-company chat app appears at the bottom of the screen, then minimizes itself with a flashing icon.
» User G_02 would like to send you a message. Would you like to ACCEPT or DECLINE?
Your team, and even your department, is small. You don't know anyone with those initials. Do you? In your email, you pull up the department group to scroll through all the names; you're still new, you're probably forgetting a few.
Nothing. Well, it's intra-company, so no harm, no foul. It's not as if you're clicking on a suspicious link.
» Accept.
You wait. The longer you wait, the antsier you get. You flick at your thumbnail, your fingertip catching where the nail polish is peeling up. Little flecks of polish in a tiny pile that you sweep off with a scoop of your hand.
Wrong message maybe?
Sighing, you flip back to your manual to scroll through for specific information when the window suddenly blinks.
» Like your hair today
» Hi, sorry who is this?
» You don't know?
Your stomach flips.
» Sorry, I'm new. I really don't know anyone outside my department.
» Shame. Should socialize more.
What?
» Oh, well…I'll start soon, i'm sure lol. Sorry what department are you in?
» Kinda fun to let you figure it out
You minimize the chat window silently. It feels like holding a snake that suddenly turns its head to look at you.
You message Sasha, asking if she knows anyone with the first initial G, without telling her the rest. She laughs and says you might as well be asking if there're any white guys working in big tech.
For the rest of the day, anyone passing by your little cubicle is a suspect. You are in a busy, central spot of your floor; dozens of people float around every hour, many faces still unknown to you. You constantly receive a spectrum polite smiles, blank smiles, warm hellos, but nobody that stares or lingers. Every single person you interact with, hear about, you're training yourself to look for any matching initials.
Judging by their message, G doesn't want you to deduce it right away. Wants to play a bit, and you don't like it one bit. You delete the message history. It won't prevent them from sending you messages, but it's the only thing that works to keep your focus off it.
Pretend it hasn't happened.
—
A week later, you're deep in a document review, eyes bleary, when the window blinks. Doesn't occur to you that it wouldn't be anyone but your team members.
» Forgot to mention I like your cute little picture
Your eyes slam to the pinned picture on your partition wall — you, your best friends, soaking wet on the dock, arms up and eyes closed. A comfort to look at. No different from other people's pictures of their pets or kids or spouses. Suddenly, it feels as if you blew it up and hung it off the side of the building to flap in the wind and let the city gawk at you. Like a nude got published. You're all in your bathing suit cover-ups, nothing untoward to hang up in the workplace, but you suddenly grab it, the little pushpin ripping out with it. You stuff it in your bag, suddenly noticing that your palms and soles of your feet are sweating.
» Make you nervous?
» I don't really know what to say. I don't know who you are.
» You sure?
What the fuck. You close the chat again, pushing your chair out from your desk, and get up to go talk with Sasha. She asks if you want to tell IT; not yet, not really. HR? Definitely not. You both tool around and discover the chat app doesn't let you block other users, considering it's just a company-wide tool.
"Okay, well. I can try to look up directories, if you want, anyone with a G-name. Find an org chart, but those are constantly fuckin' outdated. Do you think they work on this floor?"
"Sasha, how would I know that," you laugh weakly. You scroll up through the chat history to show her. "There's nothing there that tells me what department they work in. How often they see me. They could be mailroom, or someone's assistant, or…anyone!"
She chews her lip, hip bumped against your desk. "Yeah. Fuck. Well, just ignore them for now. Let me know if you want to escalate it." She gives you very serious eye contact until you nod sincerely. "Or if they do something even weirder. Okay?"
You wander back to your desk.
You work later than usual that day. A company this size and given the field you're in, there are still dozens of people on calls, staring at screens, wrapping up meetings. Makes you feel better, safer.
A maintenance worker is waiting for the elevator when you approach. The sheer breadth of him makes you feel small and insignificant, standing there with your lunch bag and water bottle and backpack like a schoolkid. He's got a big yellow maintenance pushcart with him, and when the doors ding open, you motion for him to go first so you can fit yourself in after. He obliges with a blank nod, and you skirt in behind him.
G for you.
B1 for him.
You're staring unseeingly at the smeared stainless steel reflection of the elevator door, picking at your nail polish, when the lights flicker rapidly in a one-two count, and then the elevator car is shuddering, pulling up short and making your stomach roil.
"What the fuck," you mutter automatically. Eyes flick up to the robotic floor read-out, but that doesn't even seem certain where you are. Between 2nd and 3rd floor?
The lights shudder out again, plunging you both in dark for a few moments. You breathe in sharply until some sort of backup system kicks in, running lights on the ceiling of the elevator turning on. A ceiling fan spinning, thank god.
You turn to the maintenance worker — also thank god, someone who might know what to do exactly besides pressing the HELP button — and his mouth is downturned, unimpressed.
"Do you want—?" You gesture to the panel of buttons. He nods silently. Then, with the big-ass cart filling up the space of nearly 4 people, you have to maneuver off to the side like one of those frustrating tile games so he can bring himself up to where you were stood.
Tucked at the back, his broad back blocks you from seeing what he's pressing. Then there's a tinny, crackling voice. "Maintenance."
"Hey mate, it's me. Stuck in car 2 between 2 and 3. Power go out?"
"Oh, hey, man." You can almost detect relief in the other person's voice, like they're grateful not to hear from a panicking employee instead. "Yeah, brown-out. Car should be good though — lights and fan on?"
"Yeah."
"Weird. 'Kay, hold tight. I'll give J a ring." The crackling noise cuts out.
You stare at his back impolitely. Large shapely muscles bulked under a dark grey short-sleeved canvas shirt, tattoos pouring out over thick biceps and forearms. Workman's belt. Matching grey canvas pants and some of the thickest black boots you've seen. Huge, muscular ass. Tree trunk thighs stretching the canvas tight.
Boots turning backward to face you. Your eyes fly up to his face — solemn dark eyes, healed-wrong nose, and full mouth — breathlessly, guilty.
"Y'alrigh'?"
"Yeah?" You almost cough. "Yeah. Good."
"Might be a bit. Stingy fuckers been delaying calling the elevator techs out since spring."
"Oh." You panic because there's nothing to look at except for him and all he's looking at it is the way you're grabbing helplessly at the straps of your backpack. "Well. At least we've got air." You, ever the optimist.
—
The cart forces awkwardness. When you finally slide to sit down, and he follows suit later, you can't even see one another. Two ends of an L shape of space.
The silence is mortifying for no good reason, shining floodlights on your social insecurities.
You've tucked yourself in the back corner of the car, knees pulled up to your chest, unzipping your backpack quietly like you don't want to disturb the man.
It's been an hour and a half. You've stopped caring about the sweat that's peppered along your hairline, under your arms.. You scrape your hair up and find a claw clip to keep it off your skin.
"Whatcha got?" he asks after you crinkle around in your lunch bag too loudly.
"Oh, I was…I was just about to offer. I have some cold noodle salad left. You allergic to sesame or peanut?"
"Nah."
You scrape two portions out, using your emptied containers to divvy them up. Big boy; you serve him a bigger portion. Around the corner from you, he won't know any different. Instead of standing, you scoot forward until you're peeking around. His legs are kicked out as much as they can, but he looks cramped and awkward.
He meets you halfway, arms flexing to grab your offerings; a can of grapefruit seltzer water, chopsticks and cold noodle salad, and a two-bite brownie from the dollar store. His expression, so blank before, looks surprised when he sees it.
His big fingers drag against yours as you weirdly try to place it all in his opened palms.
"Cheers," he says bluntly.
You nod politely and you both retreat to your corners like sweating, sad boxers.
"Oh wait!" You call out brighter than anything else you've said to him. "Ice packs."
A repeat of moving forward and then a hand-off a cool-but-better-than-nothing ice pack. He makes a very small sound when it hits his hands. Scuffled back into your spots again. A deeper groan when he puts the ice pack…wherever. You don't want to imagine where he's placed it.
"You get this downstairs?" It's the only question he's asked you except if you're alright.
At first, you think he means the ice pack.
"Huh? Oh, the salad? No, I made it. Why, is it okay?" Properly a character deficiency for you to seek validation from a random stranger in a stuck elevator.
He slurps the noodles loudly. "S'fuckin' good. Can't figure these things out though." You suspect he means the chopsticks.
You laugh lightly. "Sorry, I don't have a fork."
"Don't say sorry." The crisp sound of the pop can being cracked open and then a long thirsty guzzle. He must be sweatier than you in that canvas uniform. You imagine his Adam's apple working up and down as he chugs the water. "Ah, what the fuck is that" spat out in a strangled voice.
"What?"
"Your pop's gone off."
"Huh?"
"Tastes old."
Realization. You laugh. "It's just seltzer water. Flavoured. Not really pop."
You see the edge of his steel toed boots move slightly, and then a hand appear around the corner, setting the opened drink down for you. He moves back against his wall. "'m good. Thanks."
Are you opposed to drinking from the same can as a stranger? Yes.
This stranger? You grab the can quickly as if he's going to snatch you, and set it beside you. Look down and see where some of the water's pooled around the open tab. In the utter, humiliating privacy of your corner, you silently sniff the top of the can. Nothing. You have a tiny sip, and then dig into your own noodles, awash with whatever has come over you. A bitch in heat.
You gasp very loudly when the speaker crackles to life.
"Ey, G? You good, man?"
The man — you still don't know his name. He doesn't know yours — awkwardly pushes himself up to stand. "Yeah."
"Sorry for the wait there, brother. Fuckin' shitshow with these fools. Someone had to pull up their goddamn contract to check about OT calls. Anyway, they should be here soon. You guys good?"
"Yeah, all good, mate. Cheers." From this angle, stood up tall, he glances back and sees you tucked up tight, staring up at him. A funny look crosses his face, but you don't know him, can't read him.
When the technicians finally arrive, it doesn't take long for you guys to finally arrive at the 2nd floor, doors sliding open, and you finally on more stable ground. The man chats a little with the techs and you shyly say, "Thank you so much," to…everyone there, and then aim for the stairwell. The cold recirculated office air is a fucking relief on your skin, under your dampened clothing.
There's a door slam in the stairwell, echoing loudly in the chamber as you descend, and heavy boots clomping down, not hurried but not slow. You glance back and up: he's followed you. Didn't stay to chat.
"Walk you out." He says simply, and you mouth oh and you don't really have any arguments for that, so you walk self-consciously ahead of him. Aware that your pants and top are stuck unflatteringly to your skin with probably a pool-shaped band of sweat at the back of your top. "You drive or take public?"
"Uh, drive." Nerves rankling your voice like you didn't just spend hours cooped up in a tighter space than this.
He nods. Laughs short and rough when he sees you heading to the single car in the deserted parking lot. Overnight crews must park elsewhere.
An absurd question out of your mouth — "Do you want a drive home? Or…need? I don't know if you drive or…" You fumble with your car keys, press repeatedly on the fob to open the doors just for something to do with your hands. Your car lights blinks obediently as you approach.
"'m good. Drove." You turn your head, too afraid to look back up at him now, but watching his arm lift to gesture at a secondary parking lot. Some trucks parked there.
He stands, crossing his arms across his bulky chest, as you smile unnaturally.
"Okay, well, thanks, I guess." You laugh uncomfortably. "For keeping your cool. Made me feel a lot better."
"Yeah?" An eyebrow, ripped apart by scar tissue, tugging up by a hair.
"Yeah. A lot, actually." And then immediately, your cheeks feel even hotter, feeling like you've revealed something far too intimate to a man whose drink you swallowed.
"Cute."
You hustle into your car, flinging your shit on the passenger seat, sweating furiously and keys bouncing off the ignition cylinder multiple times until it takes, and waving until you can pull out and far away.
In bed that night, showered clean and cool, you're tracing the day's events like fingering a long rosary bead until you realize that the other maintenance person called him G.
At this point it's safe to say the play (like the text of the play) doesn't really matter to the whole story the show tells. And, well it doesn't have to. It's not like a bad thing. It's a valid choice. But god wouldn't it be cool if it did! I personally a big fan of stories about creating a story. It can be interesting!
So now please please please play a little pretend with me, okay? (It's gonna be a long post)
First, imagine a scene:
Raffy's frustrated once again, because Jack still doesn't let him rehearse his part for whatever reason. He is found by Rome who wanted to annoy him as usual, but seeing Raffy's in a really shitty mood is asking him what is wrong. Raffy is being surprisingly honest with him (again. Like the time he told Rome about his mother). Rome is offering to help Raffy to run his lines with him.
Ruffy reluctantly agrees.
Rome is not an actor but clearly having fun reading lines at Raffy. He is throwing a joke here and there. At first Raffy is annoyed, but the whole process ends up being kinda fun and productive.
They build... well maybe not a chemistry chemistry, but something close to it. It helps Raffy to get the text under his fingers (Rome is making a gesture what resembles playing piano). Now they both are familiar with the play to some degree. They can form an inside joke, maybe some line became... like an earworm? Plus now there's somewhat of an accidental, but still emotional connection.
And it can parallel Dean and Arnold with their character work (??). They could also run the lines additionaly, Arnold being new to acting, might've ask Dean for an advice or two. They get close not only through being all cutesie for camera but also through a play. Now there're more possibilities to get lost in the characters and the feeling of where the characters end and they themselves start. And once again. Some line might end up being an inside joke, something that comes up even outside the rehearsals, makes up to the real life thing they say for funnsies.
And now Jack would have even more reasons for jealousy. Now Arnold and Dean not just playing something, they became close. Because of his play.
And Jack wrote the thing. It's his passion project. He started it, what, in his second year? And he was already with Dean. Dean probably knows the thing almost as good as Jack does. He probably saw first raw draft. He knows how it started and what was deleted. He was Jack's muse. It's a thing between them.
And now this thing connects Dean with Arnold too. The same thing that Dean and Jack share. It's Their thing.
And Arnold probably talks about it with Tua. Tua could be Arnold's first audience. He can run his lines with him too. So Tua now is also familiar with the text. And He's friends with Dean. They live together. Maybe they talk about it too since they both work on it.
And Rome can find some of the wording funny. He can remember it and laugh at Jack with it.
And now even with Raffy having a better grasp of the character, he still can't connect with Arnold. Raffy maybe is an okay actor (Jack hesitated after his audition and seemed to consider him for the role) but not as good as Dean. And he didn't have a chance to rehearse with Arnold! It isn't as smooth as it was with Rome then they practiced it. And he lacks passion, he's not that into acting after all, so we still would have Jack annoyed and frustrated with him!
The play can be the whole character that haunts every relationship in the show in one way or another. A line from it can now mean something to every relationship specifically, unique to each of them. It can be the same line! It can repeat like the same line in epic poetry a dozen times so it could be memorized easier. The play sneaks in their real life!
60% Adahlannie (Rook x OC) - 40% Ayavrin (Rook x Davrin)
(not all together, you perverts, there's a 20years timespan in between)
1343 Words
Rating: M just in case
I told you I had some headcanons about that dialogue on ancient elven poetry @wolfsong-the-bloody-beast posted some days ago.
Guess I got inspired and decided to write it down :)
"Well, there're poems. Diaries. Novels," he starts to list, and oh, that caught my attention. "Novels, you say?", I throw the book aside and am all over him in a fraction of a second. "What kind? Adventure? Romance? Oh, i definitely wanna read about super ancient elves pining for each other!!!"
"You could call it pining, I suppose…", he mutters, and, why is he looking away?
Wait.
"Are you… blushing, Adahlen?"
Read it down here, or on ao3 :)
Dividers from here
"You know, there are some interesting manuscripts in my grandfather's library".
Adahlen says it out of the blue, after I huffed for probably the twentieth time while studying the most ancient book of elven sociology our Keeper could find us to read. This stuff is boring.
"Define 'interesting'", I slowly turn another page, even if I grasped only half of the things I've read up to now. We don't exactly have the same taste in books, Adahlen and I. He knows it very well.
"Well, there're poems. Diaries. Novels," he starts to list, and oh, that caught my attention. "Novels, you say?", I throw the book aside and am all over him in a fraction of a second. "What kind? Adventure? Romance? Oh, i definitely wanna read about super ancient elves pining for each other!!!"
"You could call it pining, I suppose…", he mutters, and, why is he looking away?
Wait.
"Are you… blushing, Adahlen?"
"…no, of course not". Liar.
Oooh boy, "what kind of manuscripts are we exactly talking about?"
"I think you've already made yourself an idea", he throws me a suspecting look, and then turns his concentration back on his book.
"No, I haven't," I take the book away, look him in the eyes. "I asked for romances, you're clearly saying it's something else. Be brave and just say it." Oh, I wanna hear this one.
"Never said it's not romance, just... alright, they're erotic novels."
"…e-ro-tic," I repeat, very slowly. Only he would use such a word but, Creators, I can't deny it does something to me.
"Pretty explicit too, if I dare say… took me a while to put together the, well, new words." Oh, the Keeper certainly didn't teach us that kind of ancient elven vocabulary.
"Wait you've already read them? Without me??" Shocking.
"Ah, I've found them years ago. You were busy putting your tongue down Revassan's throat, if I recall correctly."
Ough, Revassan… what was I even thinking that time.
"Ok, touché. But since now I put my tongue down your throat, would you show me?" Pretty pretty please?
He laughs. It's my special superpower to make him laugh. But he doesn't desist. "I don't know, Annie, it was a rather… private experience". I can't believe he's playing shy with me.
"Oh come on!" I'm pouting at this point, "I feel so betrayed already that you didn't thought to share with your favorite best friend forever!"
"Don't you dare. You know I share everything with you! I …" He blushes more, searches for words. He's so darn cute when he's bashful for me. "I used to read them alone, so I could…" he clears his throat, "imagine… it was us". He launches a tentative glance at me. I'm staring, blankly. "You know…", he adds, and makes a really vague gesture with his hand.
"Oh."
Oh. My. Did he really just said he jerked off thinking about me while reading smutty novels when we were fifteen???
"Don't make that face as if you've never… done that".
"No, no, of course I have — Gods — imagined in that sense, just… never… about you?" Forgive me, Adahlen, but you know you were like a brother to me back then. "Sorry sorry sorry!"
"It's fine," he smiles, "you're here now."
"They were pretty much always faceless men, for me, to be honest. Well, until Haranal, " — he grunts as soon as he hears my former dance teacher's name — "he might be the first I've deliberately fantasized about." I know he hates him. Thinks I've been taken advantage of, or something. He clearly wasn't watching, I brought it aaaall on myself.
"First thing I do when I'll be Keeper is banning him from the clan," he scoffs. But isn't he the sweetest?
We stay in silence for a minute. We can go on talking for hours, Adahlen and I. He doesn't talk this much with anyone else, which I admit makes me feel quite special. But our comfort silences are just as special.
And then, I remember something.
"Actually, I lied. I did think about you, a couple of times. Before our first kiss. I needed to, you know, test the waters and see if it could work for me". Before risking to ruin my most important friendship on a whim.
Am i making this cringier? How did we even end up talking about this, I just wanted to have fun and read some smut together. Ancient elven smut. That must be really something. And he's hiding it from me. So, I ask again. "Will you show me now?"
He takes the longest pause, eyes wide fixed on me. Licks is lips. How haven't I noticed those lips for years… they're beautiful. "I was about to ask you the same."
What? "Wait, I meant the novels. As in, show me the novels. What did you…?"
Is he asking what I think he's asking?
"Show me how you thought about me. I want to see it, Annie. I can… I can read you the novels aloud and…"
"Ok," I interrupt. My cheeks are burning. "Only if you show me, too."
…………….…………...........................
(20ish years later)
"Is it that funny?", Davrin asks me, clearly amused.
We are sprawled onto his bed, doing nothing for a change. I'm not sure if it's legal for a Dalish to enjoy this much a soft mattress, but after experiencing that and him, I'm certain I don't want to sleep anywhere else ever again.
Davrin was telling me he spent the whole afternoon in the courtyard, overhearing Lace and Bellara wondering over some elven erotic poems they just couldn't find. Hours and hours talking only about that.
Oh, I know were to find some of those books. And that's when I just started to laugh by myself.
"Or are you just pitying me?", he elbows me a little.
"No, no, it's…", I try to stop giggling, but it's hard. "Adahlen and I used to read ancient elven porn stories to each other when we were young."
"You what?", he chuckles, "please, pass some on to Bellara and put her out of her misery."
"They're back at my clan, I can't just go there and rob our library!", or maybe I just rather keep the memory for myself, who knows? "I'm sorry, but you'll have to suffer them a little bit more, at least until they find something else to obsess over." I give a little peck on his shoulder. "It won't take much, you know."
He takes an exxagerated sigh, and raises a brow. "Was it good porn at least?"
I grin at him. Oh, are we interested, now? "You wouldn't believe it! Alright, some were just wild, but others were very…", I bit my lip, "sensual. And, Gods, creative. I undoubtedly got some education out of that."
He laughs, one of his rich and deep ones. "I wish my history lessons were like yours." Even his laugh is so damn sexy, what am I gonna do with this man…
"I wouldn't call those history lessons, but it was definitely a motivating way to learn more of the ancient language." I'm still smiling, when I roll over him. "I still remember some stories pretty vividly." I slide my hand down his perfect torso, licking my lips. "I can tell you my favorite ones. With a little demonstration."
"Mmmh…", I can feel the rumble more than hear it. Almost a purr… a feral one. "And what do I do?", he runs a finger down my spine, oh he knows that's my weak point, "should I just listen, or…?"
I lean down enough to whisper into his ear, prepare my most convincing sexy voice. "You do whatever the story says."
"How do I know you won't just twist the story up and turn it in your favor?"
"You don't. You'll have to trust me." I plant a kiss on the line in the middle of his chest. If there's a more perfect place to be in the entire world, I have yet to see it.
Please ignore if this is unsolicited advice about navigating a one-sided asexual relationship.
I was in the same boat as you whe it came to physical closeness, but a guy I had been getting along with incredibly well showed romantic interest in me. He knew I was asexual, and that he was definitely not. When we first kissed, I didn't get butterflies. I told him, but also that I want to explore this further, if that's okay with him. I never got the butterflies, but I did find a lot of joy in making him feel loved that way. Kissing stopped being a chore. Wipe your mouth if you need to. Try to find a way to be comfortable. I know it took me more than a couple of tries (and plenty of boundaries) before I figured out how we can love each other without compromise. He proposed to me a year after we started dating. Maybe you can figure it out together, too. I'm so sorry you're going through hardship like that. Be well!
Thank you! I appreciate your insight; a lot of people have come forward with stories like mine, and maybe this will work out in some capacity, but right now I feel there're some other obstacles at play. We have different needs, and I can feel he's currently in a headspace where he wants to think that if he waits or if we have more time together, I might suddenly develop those feelings or that connection, which I feel sets him up for disappointment and puts inordinate pressure on me. He (kindly) asked whether I really understood how I was feeling, and mentioned that his friends were surprised that he'd been "so patient" (we've been talking for 3.5 months), both of which rubbed me the wrong way. However, this is all a really fresh wound for us both, so I'm going to let it settle before giving up on it entirely.
There're only 30 days left until I start posting Death of the Author here and on AO3.
So to keep the hype up for me, and give the 5 people that are interested in the comic and are waiting, here are some full pages for you! That's right, not only screenshots, but full pages!
So what is actually Death of the Author about? Well, it is a Moshang story, where Mobei Jun and Shang Qinghua are finally officially courting. And to 'propose to someone' in the demon realm is to hit them [yes, I might have stolen it from KKM and the dozens SVSSS fics I read]:
Did I mention it's Shang Qinghua who proposes to Mobei Jun?
Of course, not everything is sunshine and rainbows. Shang Qinghua soon discovers that whatever created the world based on his novel, they also included some aspects of the fanfiction he wrote. And not all of this was wholesome. There is a particular dangerous world-ending device that need to be taken care of sooner rather that later if they want to survive the plot.
But also, what kind of fanfiction did Airplane write, exactly? - Cucumber-bro asks. Well...
There will be action and adventure...
Court drama and mystery...
But most importantly it is a Moshang story with and the romance is strong in this one.
Very strong...
So I hope you will join me in this journey, come 1st January 2025.
See you soon!
[Yes, all of the above and more is already up for the supporters on Kofi, and yes, all of it will be available here as well in due time.]
Hi! I just pop in to say how much I love your games! I discovered you by WSC not so long ago, but I absolutely fell in love with this story. The writing, the worlbuilding, the characters - everything is so good! Can't wait for this game's final. After it I played Gilded Shadows and A Faerie's Tale and planing to play Chageling as well. I play through every route cause I adore how you write your LIs. They all so different from each other and even the ones who fall under the same trope are still unique in their own ways. I also should say how much I love your side characters. They're just as lovable as main ones! So, after I've finally expressed my appreciation, I want to ask you a question I've been meaning to ask for sometime. As I said, I love your side characters, especially women. Van, Mara, Carrie, Cim, Kaeto - they have a special place in my heart. So, the question is - have you ever thought about adding a female LI in your future games? I know female LIs aren't very popular in amare/otome communities, but there're definitely some people, who appreciate them. Though, I'll understand if you wouldn't like to do that.
I'm really happy to hear you love some of the female side characters. 💖I have a soft spot for Van and Mara - they were so hilarious and so fun to write. Mara was a kickstarter backer character of a friend, too and I just loved their dynamic as a couple that was both wholesome, and also very much two gremlins constantly gremlining together. 😂
For your question: I rarely rule out things in terms of game dev but I will say that it's extremely unlikely I would ever make a game where you can play as a male main character and romance a female love interest. This is an issue because I really like writing gender variable main characters. They are much more accessible and representative of my core player base and it's not a feature I intend to back away from for the foreseeable future.
It's why Thornewood will also have one.
The conflict here stems from the fact that I've had some bad experiences with players mentally overlapping ME onto female characters or the idea of a female character who could exist if only I'd add her...and it's very uncomfortable for someone to think they are dating a sort "game version" of me in love interest form. Or...to want to date a character based off me.
Or, worse, to ask me to put myself into a game to be dated by a male protagonist because they really think it would be great. And unfortunately some players are very prone to overstep; they do not respect boundaries and have no issue coming into my DMs to make creepy statements. And it's always one specific scenario that leads to the creepy.
And it makes me very...gun shy against adding that scenario into my games and thus opening that door wider. (I know this is an issue other creatives have dealt with as well; I've seen them dealing with it in their asks boxes. It's not unique to me.)
I think writing in a space where we are often very accessible to interactions and where there is a lot of self-inserting just sometimes creates issues like this. One of these situations was fairly recent and the sheer anxiety that comes with contemplating a scenario that might encourage more of it is just not something I can deal with and create well.
For now I want to continue to write gender variable MCs which means the LIs are most likely going to stay as male + some version of...gender-squishy...but not likely to be specifically female identifying. But again, I do tend to not rule things out because honestly...who knows when something will change? My style as a creator is to let the idea flow how it flows which is why I don't like to speak in absolutes.
Reuploading my IQOTD from Bluesky to Tumblr. There're 43 questions in here, that I've been answering since January 2025. It's such a fun activity to build my Inquisitor and introduce him to people. All question belong to Bambi (arhimharellan on Bsky). Warning for super long post and strong language.
What is your Inquisitor's name? Does it have a special meaning?
“Hoang” means “gold” in his mother side’s language, an dying tongue that his mother no longer speaks. Gold is also house Trevelyan’s color. As a name, Hoang also means bright as the sun and precious as gold.
2. What is your Inquisitor's class? Does it reflect their personality in any way?
Hoang was raised to be either a Templar or a Chantry brother. He didn’t ask to turned out a mage, nor the Herald. But Knight Enchanter is the something he chose for himself.
It's the family default that Hoang has to learn sword fighting when he was young. He likes it and actually not bad at it. I supposed mages aren’t allowed owning swords in Circles, so Hoang could only spar a bit as a work out. He’s been using a staff until learning about Knight enchanters.
3. How would you describe your Inquisitor’s personality?
Kind, caring, well-mannered, curious, and a people pleaser. He can be quite jealous and competitive, especially when someone has it easy while he has to work so hard. He’s also a perfectionist and wields magic with cautious, instead of pride and style like Vivienne and Dorian. Usually, he’s good with putting on a brave face, acting calm and sophisticate even though he’s nervous most of the time.
All of this because of his sheltered life, his abandonment issue and the way he was raised. Deep down Hoang’s just a vulnerable, insecure man, who’s trying to survive, who cares too much about people.
4. What is your Inquisitor's relationship like with their family?
Complicated. He was conceived before his father married his mom officially, who is a commoner, so Hoang never felt welcomed. It doesn’t help when he’s a mage in a devoted Andrastian/Templar family. At first, visits was frequent. Throughout the years, time between visits start to get longer, letters are no longer responded. Then he was left all by himself. Hoang believes Bann Trevelyan already found out about his son's preference for men. Still, Hoang can't hate his parents, and love his half siblings, sure they feel the same. It’s just the shame, the pain, the mistakes keep piling up and was never resolved. Family is such a complicated thing.
5. Did your Inquisitor have any lovers prior to the events of the game?
Hoang had little experience with romance. It's hard to believe a 30 year-old man like him never had a serious relationship. Sure he has eyes on some fellow mages, even templars when he was in the Circle, but never acted on it, as it is against the rules, and it’s wrong. The closest he could get to a romance is being the sparring partner of a male templar he liked.
Hoang has feelings he couldn’t tell. Desire, needs, and wants he couldn’t name. But Hoang pushed them all down and sometimes the result is a hand down his pants in the quiet of his dorm room.
6. Does your Inquisitor believe that what happened was destiny or a fluke?
Hoang’s been an Andrastian his whole life. He believed in Andraste, in the Maker. He believed than someone has to be chosen, but why *him*? There’s nothing about him that’s worthy. As the events of Inquisition happened, Hoang’s belief started to shake.
7. What drew your Inquisitor to their love interest?
It’s curiosity, turns admiration then attraction. The Iron Bull is everything Hoang isn’t, and that draws him in. Hoang's whole life has been living as how others expected of him, many not even see him as a person, but Bull never treated him as such.
Bull sees through the mage, hangs out with him like one of his friends, and for the first time, Hoang could be comfortable as himself without shame. He doesn't even care if it's just an act by the Ben-Hassrath agent. Then he learns about the vulnerable man behind that casual façade.
They provide each other comfort, keeping the other grounded. They can be who they really are, and complete each other.
8. Who does your Inquisitor struggle to get along with? Why?
A little bit of most people. Mostly, it was Leliana because she’s kinda scary. His first impression on Dorian was great but as soon as he commented about southern mages and slavery…eh. Fortunately, everyone ended up in good terms, except Solas, of course.
9. What religion/philosophy does your Inquisitor believe in?
Hoang was Andrastian for most of his life. He turned away from it after Trespasser and has been an atheist for years by the time of Veilguard. Atheist not in the sense of “I don’t believe Gods exist” but “You might be a god but I don’t worship you and you are not above any of us.”
10. Who is your Inquisitor closest to? Why?
Josie since they’re both nobles and feel related to each other. Hoang likes listening to her gossip and ramble (he’s also a rambler himself). Since he’s the youngest of the Trevelyans, hanging out with Josie feels like having a little sister he never had. They still write to each other years later.
Next must be Cassandra and Vivienne. Hoang admires Cass greatly. Vivienne to him is like a mentor and somewhat a mother figure.
10. Did your Inquisitor side with the mages or the templars? Why?
Templars is the easy answer. Some of the mages were his colleagues but he didn’t know the others. Considering when things happened, a mage is always behind it. However, he knows Templars, he knows what they can do, having being raised among them. Most importantly, he knows magic has is dangerous especially when in the wrong hands, in this case the Venatori. Hoang’s plan is to get to the Templars first, then come back to deal with the mages, a plan that would failed.
11. Does your Inquisitor believe they are the Herald of Andraste?
Hoang denies it all the time, but sometimes he really hopes he was chosen. That he deserves it. That he’s good enough. That everything he’s been through finally means something.
12. What is your Inquisitor's first impression of their advisers?
He warms up to Josephine right away, since they’ve met each other once or twice when they were children. He was cautious about Leliana, because, well, she’s Leliana. She scares him sometimes. Cullen, it’s the respect toward a Templar.
13. Why did your Inquisitor take on the title?
Hoang has no other choice. After Haven, he just wanted to help people, and hoped to redeem the mistake that caused countless mages to die. Plus, it was expected of him, and he always fulfills his duty despite how draining it is, been doing it his whole life.
There’s another reason Hoang won’t admit. He hoped this title could help him become someone else, someone matters, other than “the son Bann Trevelyan doesn’t talk about.”
14. Who did your Inquisitor side with during the events of Wicked Eyes, Wicked Hearts? Why?
Celene on the throne with Briala because Hoang doesn’t trust Gaspard to not invade the Ferelden when he has the power. Still, it was a tough decision and no one win. Hoang thought he was well prepared, that he had the skills to play the Game but shit he was wrong. I mean he was alright, but not that good.
He had to rely a lot on his companions and advisors. Earlier Hoang asked Bull for a dance but by the end of it the guy was too tired, so they just hang out on the balcony and ate the snacks Bull brought. Fuck Orlais and its politic, glad that he’s not from there.
15. What did your Inquisitor decide to do with the Grey Wardens at Adamant? Why?
Recruiting the Wardens. They were at war, there’s a split in the sky, they need every hand possible. Why would the Wardens be punished for their leader’s fault? The Warden were vulnerable, they needed to rebuild, not punishment.
16. Which events of the game affected your Inquisitor the most? Why?
What happened in Redcliffe. Mages, children included are dead, enslaved, corrupted. If he could be faster, choose better... His first big mission and he already fucked it up. What left in Hoang were regret and guilt, that's one of the reasons that made him took in the role Inquisitor.
Falling in love with Bull. When he learned how not to be ashamed of himself and embrace who he is, slowly.
Remember how Hoang wanted to believe that he was chosen? That he matters and everything was worth it? Well that went to the drain after Adamant. He doesn't know what he is anymore.
Losing his faith throughout the events. His family's devoted, he used to sing the Chant with his parents and siblings every night. When he was lonely in the Circle, when he didn't know what to do, he prayed to Andraste and the Maker. Now it's all a lie and none of it matters.
Trespasser, his breaking point. Everything that he's been bottled up, everything he suffered, everything came down and exploded. Hoang disbanded the Inquisition, released himself from duty and released people who served him. It's time for them to rest, and it's time for him to let go.
17. What is your Inquisitor's preferred mount? Why?
Horses is Hoang's thing. They are on Trevelyan's heraldry and everything. Little Hoang watched his father taking care of them, his older siblings sparred on them. He awed at them at the Grand Tourney. He has an Amaranthine Charger named Shae but unfortunately had to leave her behind after Trespasser.
He preferred to stay lowkey, and having a rare horse and a metal arm is huge giveaway. After trespasser, Hoang uses a Fereldan Forder for travelling.
18. Did your Inquisitor drink from the Well of Sorrows? Why or why not?
No. First, it's not something Hoang think he has the right to claim. Second, having the Anchor isn't enough already? Cole and Sera had made the most sense here.
19. Where does your Inquisitor spend most of their time in Haven? Why?
Just anywhere not his room. Early the game, Hoang was used to the dull Circle life, so he tried to find familiarity in Haven, like a routine. He usually goes in Josphine's office to borrow books. He would stop at the stable to pet horses, and the chantry sometimes for prayer.
From the stable, he could watch soldiers, Cass and Cullen, but he doesn't have to talk to them, so it's less lonely from just having people around. Also, the stable is dangerously close to a certain person's tent.
20. Does Varric give your Inquisitor a nickname? Why or why not?
At first it’s only Herald and Inquisitor, later one when Hoang said he just wants Varric being his friend, he started calling him ‘Dimples’. Because, well, the dimples when he smiles. Hoang would take that over ‘Inquisitorialness’.
21. Does your Inquisitor side more often with Leliana, Josephine, or Cullen? Why?
Josie works overtime 😭. Because Hoang trusts her and she goes well with his people pleaser tendency. Leliana is when he needs to be tougher but discreet, to not risk their reputation. Cullen has the least use since his way isn’t align with Hoang’s. Overall it spreads quite even between them.
22. Where does your Inquisitor spend most of their time in Skyhold? Why?
Hoang doesn’t like tight, dark space. Unlike Haven, his Skyhold room is huge, which means he spends more time there doing paperwork. If not his room or the war table, Hoang’s on the move. He has a routine he likes to keep, but comparing to Haven, he’s been venturing out more from his comfort.
He goes from places to places, checking on people and offers help, keeping himself useful, basically just overworking. Hoang still pick up books from the library and stops by the stable. Also, he’s been going to the tavern for obvious reason, even though it’s always so chaotic and crowded.
The garden is nice to stay for few minutes, and the battlements is for brooding. I like to think Bull has to lay on top of him, using his body weight to keep Hoang from getting up, just so he can have 10 more minutes of sleep.
23. What would the Nightmare demon have said to your Inquisitor to rattle them the most?
"The family's shame and now a fraud. You never matter, never done anything right. Ah,that's why they abandoned you. Worthless of a man. Are you even a man? Soon, you'll bring them to destruction, then I’ll devour you. I'm sure your whore mother would be proud."
24. What’s your Inquisitor's favorite location to travel to? Why?
Val Royeaux. It lies on the coast of the Waking Sea, has warmer climate with ocean breeze just like Ostwick, so it feels like home. The people are horrible, but the goods are nice to look at. Plus, they have his favorite Antivan wine.
25. Does your Inquisitor take any specific companions with them? Why?
Blackwall, Bull and Sera my beloved 😭😭 Sometimes Cassandra or Vivienne would take Blackwall’s spot. Varric or Cole would take Sera’s. Bull is a permanent member for obvious reason.
26. What motivates your Inquisitor the most?
It’s been validation for a long time. Don't get him wrong, Hoang cares a lot about others, he thrives for people’s well being and justice. But validation and to be wanted is a part of it. It stays deep down inside him and been there the longest. Sadly living to uphold others’ expectation only gets you so far.
At some point he’s lost himself, he exists like an empty shell, doubting his purpose. When Hoang was dragged back into the role in Veilguard, it’s like a nightmare coming back, but he must face it. Now he wants freedom, he wants peace, and Solas the only thing in between. This time he’s prepared.
27. What animal do you associate with your Inquisitor?
This is cliché but I did some personality tests as Hoang, and most of the results are dog. Golden retriever. Loyal, needs close relationships, needs to please others, full of compassion and empathy, doesn’t like changes. I would just keep it until I can think of another animal.
28. What’s your Inquisitor's least favorite location to travel to? Why?
Emprise du Lion. Hoang's mom migrated from south Tevinter, he was born and raised in Ostwick, a city by the ocean. He’s not built for snow and ice. Haven and Skyhold weather is tolerable but EdL is just horrible. He's wrapped in layers of fur it's difficult to move while Bull has his tits out, it's unfair. Fallow Mire gets an honorable mention for obvious reason.
29. What did your Inquisitor choose to do during Iron Bull’s quest?
Something inside Hoang screamed for just sacrificing the Chargers. As Inquisitor, with that much power, you need to make decision nobody can, suffer things nobody can endure. But Hoang Trevelyan isn't a good Inquisitor.
Hoang and Bull share the similarity of being seen as a tool, a symbol. He understands how important it is to find people who's true to you. The Chargers are Bull's family, and Hoang's people. Besides, Hoang has lost too many lives, he couldn't bear to do that to Bull, a man who is so important to him.
He had fear this decision has consequences, but coming back to Herald's Rest, seeing the man he has a crush on drinking and laughing with his found family. Maybe he can endure this consequence.
30. What are some random facts about your Inquisitor?
Accidentally flirted with Cassandra, which led to an awkward convo. It was a misunderstanding.
Favorite desert is Antivan lemon cake, would share it with his horse. Mom's egg tart is also a fav but he hasn't had it in years.
Tried different hobbies but not really stick with one, ended up picking knitting somewhere end-game since he can do that while working, and it's functional.
Competitive when he was a teen. Hoang ruined a classmate’s potion so his can be the best in class. Little fucker got away with it, but did NOT get the highest score.
Clean freak. Hoang dusts the chair before sitting, even brings his own utensil to taverns. Got stared at by his companions the first time he pulled them out.
Loves romance novels, even smutty ones. There was a phrase where he took novels in his dorm room to read through the night, then started fantasizing. He won’t tell anyone, and he will not read them in the open like Cassandra. A noble Inquisitor needs to appear ‘sophisticated’. Then Cole knows, Josie knows, then Dorian. And once they know, everyone know. Cassandra just smirks.
31. What could someone say to your Inquisitor that would hurt them the most?
When he was a child it’s “Why can't you be more like your brother and sister?". Now he’s heard enough from strangers to be bother. It stings, but easily dismissed. However, if the people he cares about say things similar to what Nightmare said, it’s over. It’s not about what is said to him, but about who said it.
32. What is your Inquisitor most self-conscious about?
The good: His look. Doesn’t have the suave but definitely easy on the eyes.
The bad: How easy it is for him to be nervous. His cautiousness when he wields magic, which roots in lack of confidence. How privileged and sheltered he was before Inquisition, which took him awhile to be conscious about.
33. Does your Inquisitor have any special talents outside of fighting?
His ability to focus. As a noble Hoang is well educated, and he wants to be good at everything (fear of not being good enough), so he tried different hobbies. Not a lot of them stand out, but he realizes he can focus really well. That makes him reads faster and uses magic better, making up for the nervousness.
He also likes to pay attention to small details no one cares about. Back in the Circles, he would noticed the change in hairstyles, jewelries on women and compliments them. Niche but Hoang can recognizes the taste of different bottle of wine. If you swap his favorite wine with a similar one he will know.
34. What does your Inquisitor do for fun in their free time?
Free time sounds luxury. Plus, Hoang feels empty if he doesn't do anything. Even in the Circle he still find thing to do. So usually he'd make himself useful, pick up new skills, practice old ones.
He also likes to spend time with his inner circle (they make sure he don't die from overwork). But really, Hoang misses Ostwick. If he had time and can go home right now, Hoang would take Shae the horse for a ride from the hill to the beach and probably just try sitting there. And breathe.
I suppose Hoang is the type of person who has to keep themselves active. If he stops and lies down, he would never wants to wake up, because he doesn't realize how burned out he is.
35. How does your Inquisitor feel about the Tevinter Imperium?
Like most southerners, Hoang holds resentments against the Imperium, not just political, but also personal reason. His mother was still a babe when her parent fled Tevinter to the Marches. Stories about evil magisters destroyed her village and used people for blood magic sticks with Hoang. They also contributes to his fear of magic. Hoang turns out a mage is just ironic. He hates its culture and government, and he *tried* to be fair with people from Tevinter. Discussions with Dorian were awkward. Took him nerves to not be angry when slavery and blood mages were brought up.
Hoang warmed up to Dorian eventually, now that he knows they have the same family problem (homophobia 💕) and share a lot in common.
Bonus lore: There was no mages in Lady Trevelyan’s village nor her bloodline (maybe 1 or 2, but it's been so long since the last one). Therefore her hometown is at the bottom of social hierarchy (above elves since they’re human). Local noble family want their land, and they were considered disposable, hence the destroy of the village.
36. Does your Inquisitor take the time to hunt the dragons in Thedas?
Dragons scared the shit out of Hoang, but ever since Iron Bull told him about the dragon tooth necklace, well guess he has to hunt one now. People do dumb things when they’re in love, and Hoang was so pathetically in love.
He actually enjoyed the hunt, it’s the adrenaline rush. The celebration with Bull is a great bonus, especially when Bull slipped and called Hoang kadan, really made him want to get on his knees and...uh..pray. If Hoang can kill a dragon, he feels like he can do anything.
They hunt dragons when they’re a danger to the area, which is most of the time. His party switches up between Sera, Blackwall, Cole, Viviene and Cassandra with Bull as the permanent one. He loves seeing Bull happy. And, gazing at Hoang's ass and thighs as his coat tail flipped up, while dragon blood spilled everywhere, makes Bull happy.
37. Did your Inquisitor try to impress the court at the Winter Palace? Why or why not?
Hoang did. The Inquisition needs all support it can get, and as his responsibility, Hoang will get it. He even practiced ahead of time with Vivienne and Josie. Viv offered to help with the dancing since it’s been so long. Hoang actually isn't bad at dancing nor the Game especially after 2 wines for confidence boost.
Unfortunately despite how much he tried, Orlais still bite him in the ass 2 years later.
38. Who was your Inquisitor most excited to see again during the events of Trespasser? Why?
Thom. Hoang writes to the others once in awhile, and Bull sticks around between jobs, but he hasn't heard from Thom for so long. It hurts Hoang when discovering his lies, since he admired that man so much. It hurts him even more sending Thom to the Wardens, knowing he'll die eventually, but it must be done. It was a relief that Thom's doing well. Hoang picked up knitting during this time, a hobby he actually enjoys and can do during work, so he brought Thom a little griffon plush. Next is Cole, since the kid seem to struggle with being human.
39. Was your Inquisitor surprised by the reveal of Solas being the Dread Wolf?
Yes and no. Hoang has suspicion, now everything makes sense. Still, mostly anger and feeling betrayed that took over him at the moment. He has every right to, because someone who he spent the first moment of this journey with, someone who called Hoang A TRUE FRIEND, is also the one behind all this.
Solas’s plan angered him the most. He’s the final straw that broke all of Hoang’s patience and tolerance. Oh to think 10 years later when Rook asked about the Inquisitor, Solas still only sees him as “useful”, as if there wasn't anything between them.
40. If your Inquisitor could have one wish, what would it be?
To live like a normal person, no title, no politic. It might sounds selfish, but despite the world needs fixing, he won't be that person anymore. Guess wishes are just wishes.
41. How did your Inquisitor feel about Mother Giselle?
Hoang was honored to have her. He was raised Andrastian, so he respects someone like her. Giselle's been a real help. She made Hoang almost believe he was the Herald. Until he heard the rumors. It's the first time Hoang talked back to a Mother, defending Dorian and himself.
It was jarring and anxious for Hoang, since he's been keeping his preference secret (mostly). After that he remained professional, but tried to avoid her. Giselle isn't a bad person at the core, but he doesn't feel comfortable talking to her anymore.
42. From the beginning of Inquisition to the end of Veilguard, did your Inquisitor's view on Solas change?
Drastically. Hoang respects Solas and learns a lot about magic from him. His POV is fresh, nothing Hoang's ever heard in the Circle. He wouldn't consider Solas a close friend, but a friend nonetheless, and the elf's feeling seem to be mutual. Hoang was wrong. After Trespasser, all Hoang has left was anger.
10 years later, the anger is less intense, but the fire is still there. He deems Solas to be beyond saving and nothing can convince him otherwise. Varric was the proof of it.
43. If your Inquisitor could change one decision they made during the events of the game, what would it be?
He wouldn't bother kissing that many ass in Orlais, and if he can have one more, he would order Leliana to not kill that spy. Hoang was nervous, wondering if he even had the say, he didn't know how things work during those first days, so he stepped aside. When she brought that up later, it hurts. Now she seems fine, but he knows it's his fault that she's hardened.
