#already thinking of doing a part 2 there's multiple good writers i left out too (e.g. beeluvd. superdanganisland) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ramzawrites · 4 years ago

Note

OMG might I say I have cried many tears already.

Also can I request a part 2 to your hybrid iron golem story? Maybe one where he has to deal with torture from the butcher gang, and even has to help exile techno. But eventually he ends up teaming with techno blade and dream after they save him. And he starts training with them and gets better at pvp and eventually kills/greatly injures one of the butcher gang as revenge, before returning to his village? LOVE YOU AND YOUR FICS❤️ your also like the only writer I know who writes he/him or gn fics so thank you❤️

IronGolem!Hybrid!Reader - Protector - Part 2

Part 1

Male

Pairings: none

Characters included: Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy, Ranboo, Technoblade, Ghostbur, (mentioned) Philza

Warnings: mention of burn wounds,captivity,fighting

Series: a part 2 of my previous fic per request <3

Summary: After weeks of working Y/N to the bones the Butcher Army has a different need of him. After managing to get the best gear possible from Y/N and having trained enough, it was finally time to get revenge! It was time to “peacefully” get Technoblade so he can stand trial, of course taking Y/N with them, after all he worked so hard on their gear and was now a part of their little army.

Words count: 3893

Authors Note: Thank you for the nice words! 💙 :D I’m sorry I broke this request up in two parts! I will concentrate on finishing up another or two requests and while I do that, I will also try finishing up part 3 since I am already in the middle of writing it! So don’t worry it is coming!

Y/N pressed his back against the cold stone wall. Enjoying the coolness on his body. Pressing his burned palms against the cold floor beneath him. The coldness was like a soothing balm that engulfed him after working for hours at the forge.

It was probably a bad idea pushing the wounds down onto the dirty floor, but he didn’t care. The temporary relief of pain just felt too good that he couldn’t stop himself.

A small break from the constant stress on his body.

Basking in the break from the constant supervision of the Butcher Army, even if that break came at the cost of him being locked inside a cell.

He had no idea how long he has been here in L’Manberg. An interesting city built inside a crater. They led him to this place, riding on their horses while pulling him along with a rope. It was a grueling two-day trip and as soon as the group arrived, they almost immediately put him to work.

First it just started out with him looking over their current armor and repairing what he could, then they began forcing him to create multiple sets of iron armor, claiming they would give him the resources and he should just work.

So, he did. He created armor sets, weapons and tools. Making new ones when they lost the gear, or it got destroyed. They put his work to the test. Fighting against each other to train. Using it against a horde of mobs, so there was never really a shortage of work.

The real trouble came when they suddenly presented him with diamonds. Ordering him to make them diamond armor but he didn’t know how. His expertise laid with iron work nothing else, but the group wouldn’t hear a no from him. Forcing him to figure out how to best create this diamond armor by showing him their old ones.

Luckily his knowledge seemed to somewhat extend to the new material as well. It took a while, but he soon found out different ways to create a similar product to that of his iron gear.

Diamond armor light but strong, the tools incredibly sturdy and in some cases sharp.

This seemed to be what the group was looking for. Yelling things like “This could rival netherite!” as they tried it out for the first time.

One day they brought him a new material. It was netherite. It was good thing that netherite behaved more like iron and was used as a coating for diamond gear, so Y/N could make this upgraded gear for them fast and easily.

The netherite complimented his work quite well. It received greater durability but also made it possible to sharpen the weapons even more so. Something about this material seemed to behave otherworldly to him which got confirmed to him once he found out that it came from the nether.

Naively Y/N had hoped that this was enough and that they would finally let him go and return to his village. His one true home. Though of course they didn’t let him go, saying that they still haven’t reached their goal and needed his help.

Still working him to the bone. His hands getting more and more hurt over time as he worked with the materials. The metal that coated them cracking more and more.

The villagers back home were left with the only few defenses he put up, which should be fine but also, he wanted to be there and make sure they were alright.

As he sat alone in the dark room, he let himself silently cry. He missed them so much. They would make sure he was alright, giving him an abundance of food and materials and whenever he refused to take more, they would look so insulted. If anything, the villagers were good-natured beings that believed in true reciprocity.

This seemed to be a foreign concept for the L’Manberg people or at least the Butcher Army. Increasing his fear and wariness for other humans even more. He never actually had any contact with other people outside of them, but he did learn a few things about the little group and what their opinion was of others.

For starters there were two people they saw as their ultimate enemies.

One called Dream and another called Technoblade.

From the things he heard and even the few question he managed to ask despite of his fear and anxiety, he gained the idea that these two must have been horrible tyrants. He almost got the idea that they were just beasts out here hunting their prey and trying to subject the other people under their own rule or ideologies.

And Y/N was scared of them. He didn’t want to meet them and make sure to stay far away but this was also how he felt towards the Butcher Army, conflicting thoughts and emotions brewing inside of him. The Butcher Army acted like they were the good guys, doing bad things for a good goal and Y/N wanted to believe in that. Wanted to believe that him suffering will bring something good as well but there were doubts.

Y/N laid his hurting hands on his biceps, squeezing them in pain as he tried to stifle his sobs. No matter what, he will make sure to not cry in front of them. It was stupid and unnecessary, but he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. Though then again, the only person who seemed to enjoy the feeling of power was Quackity. Fundy was a close second, but he looked mostly just forward to the new goods and the power he seemed to gain through them.

Tubbo and Ranboo were more passive. Especially Ranboo.

Quackity seemed to string Tubbo along most of the time, speaking to his pride as president of the nation and basically just whispering him what he should do, and the young president listened.

Ranboo tried to sometimes help Y/N. Giving him things like bandages for his wounds or giving him extra food and water, even trying to do small talk with him to lighten the mood. If the situation were different Y/N would have laughed at his awkward attempts for conversation.

While he appreciated it, it just hammered back in the feeling of homesickness.

He bit his lower lip as his thoughts began running a mile an hour again. Ranging from despair to him cursing out his captors. He was too kind to actually think things like “I hate them. I hate them so much.” Trying to believe there was a good reason for this, but he was getting tired. His work is getting more and more sloppy, and it was only a matter of time until Quackity and the others noticed.

There was no telling with how long he could take this anymore.

Y/N got back up only to fall into bed. There was nothing better to do here than sleep through the days and wait for the others to get him out.

As it turned out the others needed him early in the morning but this time it was different.

Quackity opened up the iron door to his cell with a sterner expression than usual. It surprised Y/N when he saw that Quackity had put the white apron on top of his new netherite armor. This was not a good sign. The last time he saw that armor on him was when Quackity escorted him to L’Manberg.

“Get up. We have something to do.” His voice was cold and strained. A hint of anxiety mixed in, or maybe it was anticipation after all.

Not even daring to hesitate, Y/N jumped off his bed. Wordlessly following his captor, soon noticing that this would not be a usual day for him.

Instead of turning to the smithy they set up for him, Quackity led him to the town middle where he saw the rest of the Butcher Army waiting. Decked out in Y/N’s best armor and horses in tow. Expressions pulled down into deep frowns.

But what confused him the most was that he counted five horses when there were only four members of the army. A bad feeling begun building up at the bottom of his stomach. Like a rock sinking down into the depths of water.

“What is going on?” Y/N managed to rasp out as the two reached the others.

Quackity collected the reigns of all the horses and pushed it into Y/N’s rough hands “It is time we finally get some retribution. We are going after Technoblade and we need your help for that. Your own armor is over there. Get ready while we have a little talk with Philza.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and instead moved towards Philza’s home, only to turn around one more time before they rung the bell in front of the house “And I swear by Ender if you run away, we will find you. We know the only probable place you would seek refuge in and even if you don’t, we will wreck that place.”

Then they sounded the bell. A familiar ringing that made Y/N’s heart ache even more.

There was no real choice, he just looked around and found his old iron armor laying on the ground. The scratches and damages from back when the Butcher Army found him still there. He never got the chance to repair it.

Y/N never really talked with Philza. He only saw him here and there. Usually whenever Philza passed him he would just stare. Just stare him down. Something going through his mind, but Y/N couldn’t possibly tell what. His expression always grim only to jump back into a relaxed smile. Y/N always thought his smile felt a bit off. Wrong even. Not the truth or hiding something.

When the door swung open again it gave away to a smug looking Quackity who happily swung around a compass by its chain around his finger. A proud looking Tubbo behind him, followed by Fundy who looked almost like he was sulking and Ranboo who had a complicated expression on his face. He didn’t feel comfortable.

“We’ve got what we need. Now, to Technoblade. Everyone on their horses! This includes you, Y/N.” Quackity exclaimed.

The bad feeling increased, creating a lump in his throat. Shakily he opened up his hand and let everyone get on their horses, leaving him with a beautiful black one.

Nervous he put his foot in the pedal of the saddle and heaved himself up on it.

He wanted to scream. Run away. What would they need him for? His armor was way inferior to that of the others, ignoring the fact that he couldn’t fight at all.

No, they didn’t need him to fight but be a shield for them. A moving shield. After all he was an Iron Golem Hybrid. Big areas of his skin covered in thin metal plates, not all connected so he could still move but it gave him more protection. That plus his height was what they counted on, wasn’t it? That he would still be imposing enough to draw attention.

This was the conclusion he came to due to Quackity. He heard him talking. All Y/N was to him was a tool, a resource to be used and the worst part was that Y/N just couldn’t defend himself against this. Too scared anything might happen to his home because Quackity was right, they knew exactly where his home was and how important this place was to him.

Y/N didn’t realize how suddenly Quackity slowed down his horse as they arrived in the snow biome only pulling him out of his anxiety filled thoughts as he began speaking to him directly.

“Here is the plan. We want to get Technoblade and-” He stopped himself as he searched for the right words “And hold him accountable. Yes, we will put him on trial. If we are lucky, he will just follow us, but we doubt it. If he refuses, he will likely fight us. We just need you to draw your attention on yourself but don’t worry, we will jump right in to take care of him.”

“I- I don’t, Quackity, I don’t- I can’t fight!” Y/N croaked out. It felt like ages since he last spoke.

But Quackity just smiled “Don’t worry.”

That was all he said before hurrying along to be back at the front of the pack. Holding the glowing compass close to himself.

Y/N knew. He knew this was the case and yet it felt like someone stuffed snow down his shirt. A cold shiver running down his spine. Panic rising even more. It was a good thing he was sitting on top of a horse, otherwise he wasn’t sure if his shaking legs could carry him for the rest of the way. Each step closer to what felt like his doom.

His doom? Would Technoblade kill him? The way the small Army described him, he wouldn’t hesitate to cut him down.

Was it bad he didn’t fear dying but just the potential pain?

Realizing where his thoughts were running off to, he shook himself. No, his home, his real home, needed him. He couldn’t die yet. He needed to find a way to survive.

Suddenly Fundy stopped his horse and moved his fist up in the air, signaling for the others to stop as well. While the others wondered why he did this, Fundy pointed ahead through the trees towards a figure? A person? Out here in the snowy tundra?

Without saying anything Quackity jumped off his horse, the others following suit and begun tying the animals to the trees. Once Y/N understood what was happening he did the same. His eyes darting back towards the figure that seemed to interact and cuddle with a blue sheep while he made sure his horse was secured to one of the trees.

“What’s Ghostbur doing here?” Ranboo whispered more to himself but Y/N caught it.

He heard of Ghostbur but actually never met him. Apparently, the ghost of the man that blew the nation up but that was really all he knew.

They approached the ghost on foot, calling out to him in the process to gain his attention. The ghost immediately waved towards them with an earnest and big smile on his face. Y/N was fretting for his life at the moment but something about Ghostbur almost calmed him down.

Maybe it was just the fact of meeting a new friendly face after being surrounded by the Butcher Army for so long.

Ghostbur approached them, the sheep following him via a leash “Hello Quackity! Hello Fundy! Hello Tubbo! Hello Ranboo! Oh! I don’t know your name! I’m sorry! Hello though! I’m Ghostbur!”

Y/N was a bit taken aback. He was so friendly.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.” he surprised himself a little bit with how he just blurted it out.

Ghostbur cocked his head to the side as he listened “Nice to meet you Y/N! You don’t look too good! Are you doing alright? Oh no, was this rude? Do you want some blue? Maybe that will help!”

Before Y/N could even properly process what he could possibly mean with blue Quackity jumped in “Hey, Ghostbur. You know if Technoblade is close? Is he somewhere around here?”

Somehow Ghostbur managed to lighten up even more, which should be impossible but Ghostbur’s eyes widened into a fond recognition and he turned around “Yes! Yes! I got lost but I found Techno! He told me to go though! He is over there! Come with me, I’ll show you!”

The Ghost then begun floating off, leading the group between trees and soon arriving on a small hill that gave them a good view of a cottage house.

Seeing the homey build, it was difficult for Y/N to imagine that a monster lived there. If anything, it reminded him of his own home. Maybe he won’t fight? Maybe this will end peacefully? But somehow Y/N doubted it by the serious but eager expressions on half of the Butcher Army’s faces as their eyes fell on Techno’s home.

“Let’s go.” Quackity trotted down the hill “We all know what to do.”

Y/N’s heartbeat took on speed again. Everyone got their weapons out and even though Y/N was technically really strong due to his constant smithing work, the iron sword in his hand felt heavy. Like it could slip out of his hand any second.

Worried his eyes darted across the few windows of the house. Trying to get a glimpse of Technoblade but all he saw was a shadow moving away from one of the windows.

Did he see them approaching?

“Techno get out!” Quackity suddenly yelled, pulling Y/N back out of his anxiety filled thoughts once again.

It took a second but suddenly the wooden door opened up slowly and Technoblade got out. He wore netherite armor, a red gown with white fluff on his shoulders on top of the armor, a crown on top of his head, his pink hair pulled back.

With his scowling expression and stature, he looked scary.

Technoblade took a step outside on his porch, Y/N suddenly became very aware of how sharp his tusks looked.

“What do you want?”

With a deep breath Quackity took a closer step towards the Pig Hybrid “We are here to get you! We, the Butcher Army, are here to put you on trial!”

“Yes! It is time you take responsibility for the destruction of L’Manberg!” Fundy added on. Tubbo just nodded to show his support to this statement.

“And why should I follow you? I’ve retired, I don’t want to be a part of any of this anymore. I’m done.” Techno spoke.

Quackity turned around to look at Y/N for a second only to continue speaking with Techno “Well, either you follow us peacefully or we will force you. You can’t run away from what you have done! Come with us and stand trial!”

But he didn’t answer immediately, Techno moved down the porch. Almost circling the group, his eyes jumping around between them.

“Listen, guys. The voices in my head. They begged me for more blood. They demanded more but I refused. I purposefully got out here to deny them, just leave me be.”

“Techno, you spawned Withers in L’Manberg! People got hurt! They destroyed a huge part of our nation! You have to stand trial!” Tubbo readjusted his grip on his axe. He looked angry and almost bewildered.

Technoblade slowly shook his head “No, you don’t understand. I’m trying to keep away from all this for a reason! You are just pulling me back to things and-“

“No! You either come with us or we will make you! Five to one Techno, you think you can do that?” Quackity interrupted him, pointing his weapon at Techno.

Y/N was overwhelmed with the situation. The man in front of him, Technoblade, wasn’t how he imagined him. He tried to reason but the others wouldn’t want to hear it which Y/N could understand as well but this man didn’t look like the blood thirsty monster the others described him as.

The Pig Hybrid sighed, his eyes now instead of jumping around finally decided to rest on Y/N, who in return suddenly felt small under his gaze. Did Techno realize that Y/N was the attack bait? Is he falling for it? Or did he notice his trembling arms and legs. The fear and worry in his eyes. The burn wounds covering his hands and arms. The clearly damaged iron armor.

Was he seeing Y/N as prey or as the scared man that feared for his life he really was?

“What will it be, Techno?” Fundy snarled, showing of his sharp teeth.

His hands moved towards his side “If it has to be like that, then I choose blood!”

Then everything went really fast. His hands pulled out a few flask from his belt, hidden by his gown that he threw on the ground to buff himself.

The Butcher Army immediately grew panicked and barked orders, a clear and loud order from Quackity flew through the chaos and reached Y/N “Attack him, Y/N!”

And he didn’t know why but he moved in. He was scared, his heart felt close to exploding in his chest, but he was somehow more scared of Quackity and what could happen shouldn’t he listen. Scared that he would force him to work even more, refusing him sleep and food again. Not letting him treat his wounds properly that he got from the work.

So, he moved in. With shaking legs and what felt like without strength in his arms. The world turned blurry. Was he crying or just his nerves? He couldn’t tell.

All he remembered was Techno coming close to him, looking like a demon. His eyes wide and filled with what Y/N assumed to be bloodlust.

Y/N moved his arm up, just trying to hit Techno with his own sword, but Techno was faster. He slammed the blunt end of his netherite sword into Y/N’s neck. Shocked by the sudden attack, he fell to the ground. The world growing dark for a few seconds as he coughed and tried to breathe again.

As he sat in the cold snow, trying to calm down he heard the Army yelling. Metal clanging on metal.

Then it suddenly stopped.

A neighing. A horse? What?

Luckily Y/N seemed to have regained somewhat control over his own body and could assess the situation in front of him.

The Butcher Army seemed to be alright. Y/N’s armor really held through, no obvious damage on it. They were out of breath and sweating but alright.

A bit ashamed Y/N couldn’t help but be proud of his work that it withstood a buffed-up Techno with a netherite sword.

But what really caught his attention was Quackity who held the reigns of a horse with diamond armor. His axe held up close to the animal’s throat.

Technoblade moved the tip of his blade towards him “Get away from that horse, Quackity!”

“Follow us peacefully and nothing will happen to the horse, Techno. Your choice.”

There was a slight hesitation as Techno undoubtedly tried to gauge if he could somehow deal with Quackity differently but ultimately, he suddenly dropped his weapon as well his armor.

Perplexed Y/N got back up, still rubbing his neck.

Techno spared him. He obviously just tried to either knock him out or make him unable to fight, which he succeeded in. Wouldn’t it have been for Y/N’s reinforced skin due to his Iron Golem side he would have been knocked out for sure.

Fundy did not hesitate to jump in and wrap chains around Techno’s wrists “Y/N! You are the strongest one of us. You hold on to him, we will be close by to ensure he won’t run off.”

Avoiding looking at the others directly after having been taken out of the fight so easily, he made his way towards Fundy and grabbed the chains. Wrapping it a few times around his own arm as well. Feeling sick to his stomach as he realized that he was doing the same thing to Techno like back when the group escorted him out of his own village.

He couldn’t help himself but whisper towards Techno a quick “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

#mcyt x male reader #dream smp x male reader #dsmp x male reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt reader insert #mcyt x Y/N #dream smp reader insert #dream smp x reader #dream smp x Y/N #dsmp reader insert #dsmp x reader #dsmp x Y/N #ramza writes #anon request #Anonymous

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scribblingfangirl · 4 years ago

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WITH LOVE, THE GHOSTS | Julie and the Phantoms - Part One

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: Gah… I'm such a procrastinating butterfly. I should be writing my Billy Russo series which I'm so excited about, but I just want to be able to read it already instead of having to write first + I'm currently writing each and every chapter instead of the next one (struggles of a fanfiction writer - am I right?). So, what do I do instead? I flew from one of my obsessions to another and got inspired by this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt.

Anyways... This fic will be a little to late for some of you guys, but still: Merry Christmas everyone! And if you do not celebrate Christmas I still hope you have a wonderful day and a rest of the year filled with love and happiness. You did it, you fought through it. I’m sure you had your own pair of himbo ghosts taking care of you.

word count: ~ 1k

summary (and basically background info): Y/N is Julie's & Flynn's friend who doesn’t know about the ghosts (let’s just say she believes that they’re holograms). The boys become attached to Y/N due to her kindness and positivity and do everything in their (ghostly) powers to keep her days sunny and bright, especially in winter. Or: Two times Y/N is oblivious to the boys 'paranormal' activities and the one time she notices it

prompt: Comfort in the Cold by @flashfictionfridayofficial

warnings: english is not my first language, therefore, typos

| Part Two | Part Three |

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#1: Luke

Slowly and quietly you made your way down the stairs of the Molina household, leaving Julie's and Flynn's sleeping forms behind. Even though you had just watched multiple Christmas movies and probably eaten double your weight in popcorn, your stomach was still asking for more. As Julie knew about your habits of needing a midnight snack and since Ray repeatedly told you to make yourself at home you weren't feeling bad about stealing some small bits and pieces out of their fridge or cupboards.

Which is why you were straining your ears to hear any sounds that might indicate that you had woken up either Carlos or Ray, but you were only met with silence. Releasing the breath you were holding you hastily hopped down the last few steps down to the living room, grabbed the stair railing and used the momentum of your movement to swiftly swing yourself in the direction of the kitchen, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2 a.m. and the continuous silence indicated that nobody except you was awake and around. Yet, as you hesitantly took a view steps towards the kitchen counter, pulling your blanket like a shield tighter around your body, there was a perfectly fine peanut-butter/jelly sandwich waiting for you, a smiley made out of Nutella painted onto it. Your favourite midnight snack.

A small note peaked out from under the plate and it took you some time to decipher the chicken scratch. Can't have our favourite groupie going to bed hungry!

Smiling and shaking your head, thinking that either Julie or Flynn must have sneaked out of the room sometime earlier to make you this sandwich you happily bit into it.

If you'd known that there was a brown-haired ghost with hazel eyes sitting opposite to you and watching you with a smile, the sandwich would have probably gotten stuck in your throat.

#2: Alex

Doing multiple Christmas movie marathons would be fun they said. No need to worry they said. Only Christmas cheer and joy they said. Well… long story short, even fun movies can make you bawl like a baby!

A few days after the midnight snack incident, which you completely forgot about, you were once again sitting on Julie's bed. With her and Flynn to your left and right, you had been watching different movies on her computer. Currently, however, you were only trying. Tears were blurring your vision and your sniffles were the only sounds reaching your ear.

Pressing the plushy's soul that Flynn had won you at a fair out of its body and sobbing into it, you felt Julie shift beside you and lay her head in your lap and mumbling something while Flynn was searching for a handkerchief.

"Whose idea was it again to watch this movie?" you tried to ask, but your voice came out all thick and full of emotion, so you weren't sure if they understood or heard you at all.

What you didn't know was that the boys were watching the movie, and now mostly you, with big eyes.

"Remember the day when Julie was crying in the garage and then Flynn came in crying too? Remember how I said that two girls crying are worse than one girl crying? This… this is way worse!" Luke pointed exaggeratedly at every single one of you and moved quickly out of Flynn's way when she left the room to get a box of tissues.

"Dude… they're not actually crying crying. It's just a really sad movie," Alex said and sighed quietly when he heard Reggie whisper, "Do you think that's what Willie meant when he said Caleb floods the place during movie night?"

"That's... no, okay." Shaking his head Alex moved towards the bed and sat carefully at Flynn's place to not alert you of the shift beside you. Then he gently took a paw of the plushy that you weren't currently pressing into an embrace and lifted it to wipe away your tears and free your sight.

You sniffled, too confused and full of emotion to realize what just happened and that it couldn't possibly have been Julie or Flynn, and whispered a small, "Thank you".

Alex smiled, proud of his action.

#3: Reggie

You didn't even bother to take off your shoes or wipe away the residual snow still sticking to your hair as you flopped yourself down onto your bed, groaning into your pillow. Everything was already grey, wet or at least soggy anyway. To say your day had been bad was an understatement.

It's the most wonderful time of the year With the kids jingle belling And everyone telling you be of good cheer It's the most wonderful time of the year

Confused you lifted your head and starred at your computer who apparently decided to become sentient and cheer you up.

It's the hap-happiest season of all With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings When friends come to call It's the hap-happiest season of all

The next thing that happened would forever be burned into your brain. Your favourite pen suddenly lifted itself up into the air and started to scribble down onto a nearby paper. Slowly and unsure you stood up and inched closer to your desk, but as soon as you were able to sneak a peak onto the paper the pen stopped and fell down.

Shaking your head you rubbed your eyes and turned back to your bed. "This is the weirdest lucid dream I ever had." The moment you flopped back down onto your bed you heard the familiar scratching of pen on paper again. Turning your head there it was again - the floating pen. "What?"

However, once again, as soon as you reached the desk the pen fell down, lifeless. “Alright... alright. I understand! Don’t worry, I won’t sneak a peak.”

"I am dreaming... right?" You weren't. Pinching yourself hurt, trying to breathe through a closed nose didn't work and your pointer finger would not move through the palm of your hand.

Shakily, yet weirdly motivated by the happy Christmas music still playing in the background, you picked up the note laying beside the now still pen. "Merry Christmas Y/N! Lots of love from Reggie, Alex and… Who?"

"It told you, Luke… I should just have signed for us all."

"Shut it Reg, I know my handwriting sucks."

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lxngbottom · 4 years ago

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Mistakes That Last Forever. | N.L.

in which neville stumbles across... an “old friend”.

warnings: mentions of cheating, angst, pregnancy, slight trauma mentions (lmk if i missed any!)

i got inspired for this by an outsider imagine that i read like a really longgggg time ago... so enjoy this ig (AND YES THERE WILL BE A PART 2 TO THIS)

(PART 2)

—

neville’s whole life had been filled with regrets. they seeped into his skin, torturing his clouded mind on day to day basis. the trauma from the second war had left a mark on him, and even though he was now in the infamous herbology professor at hogwarts, he still didn’t feel as if he was living the life he had always wanted to. he didn’t feel successful, he didn’t feel... good about himself. and the main source of that?

you.

his biggest regret was losing you. hurting you. leaving you in such a needing time.

it had all started after the war. you two had been inseparable since 2nd year, as you were the one who had helped him down from the chandelier when he was tragically hung up by those pesky pixies. and ever since then, he was enamored with you. he was consumed by the mere thought of you. and, your feelings didn’t differ too much.

so, you two became official in your 4th year. you two were each other’s firsts for practically everything that could be a first. and, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. you were so in love with him, it tore you from the inside out.

but unfortunately, the war arrived. and, it took a huge toll on your relationship. it affected each bit of what you guys had built together. after the war had ended, you guys tried so hard to make it work. but, neville... it seemed as if he just... gave up.

you would never forget the day you came home from work to your shared apartment, and heard strange noises coming from your bedroom. you went up, deep down, already knowing what the noises were. and of course, when you opened the door, your worst nightmare had became a reality. and even worse?

you were pregnant.

neville knew this too, but, he felt as if he had spent so long being “stuck” in a relationship with you, he never got the chance to meet new people. and because of that, for the sake of your child, you left. because, he had left you first, and he had done something unforgivable. something that would leave you scarred, and something that would take hold of you for years.

but, now things were different for you. you were more than content with where your life was at right now. you had an amazing job as the journalist for the daily prophet, and you were damn good at it too. it was a collective agreement that you were definitely a step up from rita skeeter.

neville couldn’t disagree more, though. not that he didn’t think you were good at your job, he always thought that you were an amazing writer. but, he had to force himself to cancel his personal subscription to the daily prophet, as the simple mention of your name on the front page, or sometimes, maybe even your picture, broke his heart to see. some from guilt, but mostly, from just missing you.

just five years later, here you were. walking through a muggle hardware store, looking at all of the houseplants that surrounded the small garden.

“mummy, look!”

you whipped your head around, and smiled when you saw your small son, chubby just like neville used to be when he was young. you had always tried to disregard the fact that he looked exactly like his father, but it was difficult to. you loved your son, with everything you had in your body, but, he was a constant reminder of all the pain that had been caused.

“very nice, nev!” you giggled, watching as your son played with a single pink flower bouquet. he grinned at you, and suddenly plucked the fresh flower off of it’s stem. you gasped, and wanted your hand at him, “neville longbottom! we don’t do that! do you want to get in trouble?!”

his face contorted into a guilty one as he made those ridiculously adorable puppy dog eyes at you, “i’m sorry, mum... i-i-i didn’t know. i was trying to pick it for you...”

you couldn’t help but to feel a little guilty as he sadly dropped the broken off flower on the floor, watching as it blew away from the huge fan that hung above the both of you.

“it’s okay, dear. but, try not to pick them from the actual stems, okay? just... look on the floor. you’ll see a bunch of free flowers everywhere.” you teased, sending him a small smile. he looked up at you, and those sad puppy dog eyes quickly sparkled with excitement as he ran away, looking around the garden for those small, long forgotten flowers.

you chuckled quietly to yourself as you watched your son, seeing how his eyes glowed from all of the plants.

yeah. he was definitely neville’s son.

you turned your body back around, attempting to continue your shopping. but, your body then collided with another, causing you to come to a complete halt.

“oh, merlin! i’m so—“ you were just about to spurt out multiple apologies, until, you looked at the figure.

there he was. tall, muscular, and a intent gaze fixated on his face as he stared at you.

“n—neville?”

he was so shocked. he couldn’t even let out a single mutter. you were right there. right in front of him. after not seeing you for so long, but thinking about you always, you were finally right here.

“y/n...” he breathed out finally, trying to not show how incredibly nervous he was.

this was the first time you two had seen each other since the day you packed all of your things, and left him standing alone at the door step that once belonged to the both of you. he could never seem to part with the apartment, the whole environment still leaving trails of you. so, of course, he still resided there during his off times.

“um—wow... shit—i’m sorry. you know... for bumping into you...” he laughed nervously, stepping away from you. you gave him a nervous chuckle as well, trying to hide the redness that was now blending within your skin.

“oh—it’s alright. i should’ve—you know... been watching where i was going...”

neville opened his mouth to respond, as he wanted to ask you so many things. but, he was interrupted by a small child running up to you, tears streaming down his face as he clutched onto your leg.

“mum...” he sniffled out, and you looked down with a concerned look on your face, “t-t-the lady yelled at me...i-i-i accidentally b-broke one of the f-f-flowers...”

neville knew those eyes. he knew that familiar stutter. he knew those tears. it was like practically looking into a mirror.

that was his son.

you looked over at neville nervously, seeing realization flashing in his green orbs. but, you bent down to neville jr, who was an absolute mess. he never took kindly to people getting onto him, especially if they were yelling.

“oh... it’s alright, nev. we have a whole garden at home that we can grow flowers in...” you reassured him, wiping his small tears. he nestled into your touch, “why don’t you go and pick out some seeds? any kind you like... i’ll get them for you.”

there was a shy smile on his face as you said that, and he looked over at the strange man that stood baffled beside you.

“okay...” he sniffled, wiping his nose, “but... who’s that?” he asked, pointing to neville.

you had never told your son about his father, and you had hoped that he never would. but, you knew the day would come. you just didn’t think that day would be today.

“an old friend, darling. now, do as i say and go find some flowers, alright?”

your son nodded, reluctantly leaving you with the tall man that he had no idea the identity of. you stood up fully awkwardly, and looked over at neville who’s face was now angry.

he watched as the boy ran off, “he doesn’t know who i am?” he asked through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at you.

you looked back at him, “nev—“

“no... how could you not tell him? that’s my son, y/n. you—you told me you were putting the baby in adoption... how could you lie to me? and him? why would you do that?”

you knew you owed the man an explanation, but all at the same time, he had brought this upon himself. and yeah, maybe it was fucked up that you had lied to him, but, you genuinely did believe at the time you were getting rid of the baby.

“neville... not here. please...”

“no, y/n. you owe me a goddamn explanation. i mean... this is my fucking child we’re talking about. look at him! he looks just like me!”

you looked over at the chubby boy, watching him closely as he skimmed through seeds, staring at the images on the front.

“don’t you think i know that, neville?” you whispered, “listen... we can talk about this. but, not here. and, not while he’s around...”

“no! i want to talk to him! i deserve it—goddamn it, y/n! how could you fucking do this to me?!”

“and how could you cheat on me?! after everything we went through together! you fucking left me in the dust!”

he could see the pain in your eyes. there was obviously still a lot of hurt, so much rage pent up from the whole scenario. of course you had never fully gotten over it. it was still something you thought about on a daily basis, as you had believed at one point that you would be married to neville by now.

“y/n...” neville started, stepping closer to you, “i—i never meant to hurt you...”

you stared into his eyes for a moment, trying to find some sort of other answer other than that stupid apology you had heard so many times before.

“it doesn’t matter, longbottom. i have to go. we can talk about this whole thing another time. goodbye.”

#harry potter #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #neville longbottom #neville longbottom imagine #neville longbottom imagines #neville longbottom smut #neville x reader #neville x y/n #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x y/n

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nerdsideofthemedia · 3 years ago

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I've come to terms with bb but I still want to know when it was decided to be endgame. I don't buy the "planned from the start" thing since everything in show points to the exact opposite. Maybe the volume commentary after the fact will finally put the matter to rest...or muddle things up further lol. given the likely possibility of them lying ) if it was planned from the start there should have been hints from the start they shouldnt have began hinting at bb halfway into the series ( and attempting to use bb being a same sex ship as a shield and claiming anyone who didnt see evidence just didnt see it because it was a w/w ship makes me roll my eyes "I recognize that BB is likely to become a canon ship. But given that it's a stupid-ass canon ship, I've elected to ignore it."

Have you ever gotten around to reading from start to finish the one giant post dedicated to you that goes into length about your harassment and it is now linked to in all my rwby post in the wordpress blogs, @megashadowdragon (yes, I am almost certain that is your actual real account even if my evidence is circumstancial)? Should I put a link to your tumblr profile too?

You've claimed to be in your late 20s, how the fuck can you be that old and still think it's acceptable to harass someone over a ship? and for months, no less. The only time you left me alone is when I had cut all means to do so. I shouldn’t have to do that. Have you been checking on my account every week for the last month to see when you could strike again? Get the fuck over it. BS sunk for good in early V6 (yes, the Renora/BB parallels are very clearly intentional and no, they didn’t change their minds mid-volume – that would have been likely impossible). V9 is starting in a couple of months.

If the writers told you every single hint they had to reveal BB, you would not believe them, so don’t bother feigning curiosity and pretending you’re open-minded. A person who thinks Adam attacked Yang and associated the word love without any planning on the writers' part is someone who could not care less about what the writers were trying to convey. A person who sees Yang getting associated with the ex and Sun getting associated with the unrequited love doesn’t think it says anything about story is naïve at best. And a person who keeps sending me to a goddamn post (that I’ve even quoted verbatim in one of my posts) that says “Like seriously if I was writing two characters that were only meant to be platonic, I would never write a scene like that. The implication of those words are too strong.” but tries to pretend this only applies to Renora and not BB is a deeply homophobic one. I have yet to understand how the hell you fail to see that that post makes actually a massive amazing argument for BB being planned from very early on.

Nothing can be applied to Renora without applying to BB too.

It wasn’t just the Renora scenes that were written by writers, the BB scenes also were, including the flirting and wink, the ship named Pride, the ex attacking and using the word love, yet classmate for Sun, Yang paralleling Pyrrha when they both helped the object of their affection in the dance arc, the Arkos/BB parallels in V3, etc. The writers decide everything. If they wanted Sun to fight the ex and not be associated with unrequited love, that would have happened. Don’t bother pointing Adam didn’t fight Sun when they were alone, that’s why he used the word classmate because the fight could have happened any way the writers wanted it to happen. If they wanted those 2 to fight (or with Blake) and use the word love, they would have.

The writers decide everything. If they wanted to associate Sun with the ex instead of the unrequited love or if they wanted to associate him with the word love instead of classmate, they would have.

Instead of writing a post responding to all your nonsense for the 124539th time,

let’s decide what to do with you.

I’m guessing reporting you to tumblr is worthless because you harassed me using several accounts that no longer exist (mysteriouslypaleenthusiast, reallydelicateturtle, red2sposts, ravenstarsblog, violetcloudsworld, pleasantbarbarianfire, makofan and now lightningemperorsworld). Let’s not forget the multiple anons and the [email protected] and the [email protected]. Still, reporting to tumblr and see if they have ways to check it’s you and see what they can do about it, not off the table.

Here’s my suggestion: you stop harassing the BB community (the entire community, not just me) and I let bygones be bygones.

Or maybe, I inform your community (yes, I have also saved the usernames of the people you are constantly asking to bring down our posts because you can’t do it yourself – to be fair, neither can they) and let them know what you’ve been up to and how you’ve been using them to harass us. Unless of course, they already know, but they’re garbage so they don’t care. I may be willing to take a shot and find out.

Oh, and you can stop with the nonsense of being offended because I called you out on your homophobia. You don’t want to be called out on it, then stop being homophobic. For starters, stop harassing real LGBTQ+ people because your fictional straight ship didn’t become canon.

If most saw it coming and you didn’t, then the writers didn’t fail, you did. Also, the hints didn’t begin mid-series, they have been there since the red fucking trailer. By the end of V3, a good chunk of the audience had called it. By the end of V6, almost no one thought BB wasn’t going to be endgame.

You are one of the few exceptions. If that doesn’t scream volumes to you about your lack of understanding of storytelling/how much you live in denial, then nothing will. Live in “I’m right and everyone else is wrong” for as long as you want, but don’t ever bother me or anyone else ever again.

For the sake of honesty, I will say that I do not know if @megashadowdragon is the one behind the harassment of several BBers. I know with almost certainty they are behind mine, but I cannot be sure they have other victims since the patterns aren’t the same (at least, not the victims I know of). This been said, add them to the list of suspects.

I suppose I thank you for not being a complete asshole to me for the last 2,5 years, when I actually wrote the post that has you screeching for months. And now I say fuck you for being a complete asshole to me for the last 4 months because of a goddamn ship. Yet you have the fucking gall to pretend we are the toxic ones.

TLDR: act your age (which you claimed is late 20s), and stop harassing people over a ship. No one owes it to you to pretend they did not see BB coming just because you didn’t. No one gives a shit about what you ship. Ship whatever you want as much as you want. Want to have an entire tumblr page just for BS? Go right ahead. What you cannot do is force your garbage ship down someone else’s throat.

#bumbleby #bmblb #harassment #found the culprit #rwby #shipping discourse #yang x blake #blake x yang #lgbtq #stop living up to your initials bsers #lgbt in fiction #lgbt couples

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

Text

I live in the neighbourhood Part 2

Part 2 is hereeeeee YAY! There will be a part 3 eventually :) I hope you enjoy and as well lmk you loved it with reblogs and messages, they truly make my day and y’know do it for other writers too, trust me we all love it. this fucking gif still gets me,,, but anyway there is so much i want to talk about in this part its killing me so plssss message me about it aghghghggh idk what else to say

um this part is filled with: yn not knowing cars, harry being a dork, almost kisses and kisses , but daddy i love him, the crown, gardening, and so much more mwah

Read Part 1

Word Count: 10.8k | Warnings: minor anxiety attack, swearing?, drinking, think that’s it (some more taylor swift)

“You want me to what?!” She feels herself all but scream.

He sighs in exasperation and ruffles his freshly cut curls. He can’t help the smile that grows shortly after his sigh. Y/N’s reaction on the other end of the line has sent him into a fit of giggles that he has to suppress quickly when she sends a warning ‘Harry’.

“It’s simple, love,” He twists to lay on his stomach. “I left you the spare to my place. Just go in, find my car keys and then drive to the airport and snap me up!”

She sighs now over the phone as she contemplates whether she could truly go into Harry’s home and then drive his surely expensive car to the airport and get him. It was something a friend would do for another friend, especially one who was a neighbour and especially a neighbour who had nothing better to do on a Friday night.

“Alright,” she says finally, “I’ll be there on Friday, text me the flight number.”

She grins when she hears a little “woo” from Harry. Even if he’s smiling half a world away it still made her happy to know it was because of her.

They had mostly texted each other randomly over the past three weeks while Harry had been away in California. She told him about her job, which he insisted was endlessly interesting and she countered that he found it interesting because it was new to him and eventually the grandeur would wear off. She loved her job, of course, it was for a public relations company that dealt with various London based companies and she was on multiple accounts with various clients ranging from tech companies to music artists. But she didn’t think it was as interesting as Harry made it out to be.

Harry told her about the filming of the movie and about everyone on set. He told her how he bought everyone on the crew his new ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirts and joked how he’d have to get her one as well to match her other one. She noted that one of Harry’s love languages was very obviously gift giving. He was so generous and she really admired that from him considering how successful he was. Her father was an accountant so she knew how rich people could be about their money sometimes, hiding it away in different entities just so their money can make money instead of spending it on things that matter.

He said everyone was nice and amazing overall, he gushed about people’s performances, but he’d always end with how much he missed London. He liked LA, he would assure her, but then he’d say how it wasn’t home-y at all. London was home to him. She would smile whenever he said that because she felt that way too, even though she wasn’t originally from the city, it just felt like home to her.

One night, he even confided in her his loneliness while on set. He wondered that maybe it was because he had no real roots in LA, nothing to go home to - no home to go to. She tried to reassure him that he wasn’t alone and all he had to do was ask and any person from the movie would love to spend time with him. He nodded along to her words, but they both knew he was being overly kind when he said everyone was nice. Not everyone in Hollywood was nice and certainly not everyone in Hollywood had substance. He searched for a month and seldom found time where he was truly relaxed with others and enjoying himself. More than ever he was excited to return home to London to say the least.

“Harry!”

She jumped out of her seat and into his arms, her cheek brushing his as she leaned in. He stood just on the sidewalk by his car that she had gingerly driven into the city and to the airport at 9pm on a Friday night in November.

The car was a dark blue vintage convertible, Mercedes-Benz, she was pretty sure but she really was completely clueless when it came to cars. Harry had taken her call right before his flight took off and walked her through finding the car. He had two garages and one garage had two cars and the other had only one. She had gone on her own and found the first garage with the two cars and seen a lime green tiny little vintage convertible and a cherry red vintage non-convertible and became distraught that there was no navy car. When Harry picked up the phone he had been greeted with some yelling about how he must be colorblind if he thought one of these cars was navy and he had laughed heartily before explaining that there was another garage. She had huffed and traipsed through his house until she came upon the other garage. When she saw the blue car she was equally annoyed and elated. “Thank fucking god,” she muttered over the line and Harry had laughed, but found himself cut off when the line went dead.

He smiled and groaned slightly at her tight embrace. He was happy to be back in England after a month away and he was happy to have her in his arms even if he didn’t know whether he should admit that.

“It’s good to see you,” he musters and he feels her smile into his neck. The only fabric between her face and him being his thin waffle knit long sleeve. He could feel her breath softly against him. He pets at the back of her hair, “Thank you for coming to get me, I know it might have been a bit much to ask.”

“Don’t mention it,” she pulls back from his embrace and smiles happily up at him, “What are friends for?”

She brushes her hands at his shoulders and then moves to start putting his luggage in his car. He had two suitcases and a backpack with him, but he had told her he had more stuff sent over that would just be sent simply to his home. She had texted back a shocked face emoji when he said that, unaware that he traveled with that much stuff.

“Right,” Harry affirms, twitching into action at the word ‘friends’. He felt like they had gotten so close over the last month even though they had only talked over the phone for that time. Seeing her in person now felt like she had been his friend for years.

Once in the car, Y/N settles back in the driver’s seat, not wanting Harry to have to drive after the horrible flight from California to London. A direct flight was just about as bad as layovers in Ohio or Utah. She wasn’t sure what it was like in First Class, but she still knew it was rough being on an aircraft for 10 plus hours.

Harry closes his eyes beside her after a moment. He had watched her settle in the car with his head against the headrest, his eyes drooping as they regarded her movements. She was so sweet to him and he nodded when she asked if he wanted his seat warmer on.

“You’re too good to me, pet,” he whispers, head lulling once again.

She glances at him swiftly as she pulls out of the loading area. He smiled contentedly before drifting off to sleep.

She turned the music low and silently drove them back to Sherwood Avenue. When she pulled the car into Harry’s garage, she sat there for a few moments as Harry softly breathed beside her. She had hoped he’d wake up upon their arrival so she wouldn’t have to wake him, but alas he was sound asleep.

She watched him, he was so quiet in this moment. So unlike how he normally was with her, talking about everything and nothing almost constantly. She liked that side of him. But she had to admit something about him this peaceful was just as entrancing.

The flutter of his eyelids brought her out of her reverie and she was grateful for the dim lighting in the garage because when Harry’s eyes focused on her she was blushing.

He quirks a brow and his smirk begins to settle back on his lips. “Home,” he raspily mumbles and begins to shift in his sea.

She nods and smiles softly, shaking off all the thoughts had been going through her mind.

“We’re back,” she affirms. “Let’s get you inside, sleepy boy.”

Harry shakes off his slumber with a rub at his right eye and a run through his hair. He climbs out of the car. She throws him the keys at his silent instruction of an extended hand and an eyebrow raise. She knows she read him correctly when he smiles sweetly and travels to the boot of his car to begin unloading the suitcases he was in charge of.

She follows him and rounds the end of the car, preparing to take some of his luggage.

“You don’t need to carry anything, it’s fine, dove.”

His voice is extra gravelly still and she would’ve complained about the new nicknames if he hadn’t sounded so hot. She didn’t think she had any feelings for Harry other than friendship, she was almost sure of it. Sure he was attractive, but ever since she actually got to know him she hadn’t thought of him in a way that could be considered more than friendship. He made her blush, but he was just inherently smooth. It wasn’t because he was specifically flirting with her.

Except right now, the whole reuniting of it all paired with his voice and his sleepy eyes that she imagined likely looked similar to his bedroom eyes. She was having a hard time seeing that line of friendship.

“No!” She protested, tugging the backpack he was attempting to carry along with the two suitcases from him.

He sighs and sets down one of the cases, “Y/N, you’ve already been too good to me by picking me up. I’m not making you do any more physical labor with any of my heavy shit.”

“It can’t be that heavy,” she pulls the backpack on and she resists the slight step back her body wants to take from the weight of the backpack.

“Give it back,” he says, sounding concerned for her.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it, Har,” she smiles and gives a little twirl in his large garage, the backpack making her look a bit smaller.

He twists his lips trying to ward off a smile. He wasn’t annoyed, moreso he was delighted by her antics. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her.

“Oh you got it? Do you?” His amusement betrays his British accent, making him sound like he did at 19. He places the other case on the ground and walks quickly to stand right in front of her.

She squeals as he gets so close, his nose just about brushes hers. He’s smiling sinisterly as he takes hold of the straps of the backpack and tries to tug them off of her. Yet, she holds on tight to the front of them, laughing happily at their silliness and causing her nose to brush against his.

Their eyes are strong on each other, watching their every move. And they settle a little, laughter dying out, breathing evening out. Her hands are still strong on the front straps of the backpack, while Harry’s are strong on the top of her shoulders, wrapped around the backpack’s straps as well.

He licks his lips, feeling especially interested in seeing how hers finally taste. Right as he is about to lean in, brush his lips against hers, she pulls from his grasp, swinging away from him and dashing to the door that leads to the rest of his house.

“C’mon, it’s freezing out here!” She twists the nob of the door and beckons him.

He huffs, shaking himself out of the daydream he had almost made reality. He wanted to kick himself, he felt like a kid. He needed to get a grip.

“I’m right behind ya’,” he called, nodding his head to tell her to go before him.

Her smile sears in his mind like the shine on a brand new coin as she flicks on the light in the entryway. The light comes flooding in the doorway and around her. For that quick moment only she is illuminated in his eyes. She shines for him and he wonders if it’s possible to drown in light.

Next Thursday

“Crown came out on Sunday!” Harry said as he opened the door, knowing it was Y/N who had knocked.

“Had no clue from the ominous text you sent, ‘come over, i promise popcorn *crown emoji*’,” she laughs and enters the house and holds out a bag of chocolate chips.

“I already have it queued up and popcorn’s popping!” He says happily and takes the chocolate chips to put in little dishes.

They walk into the kitchen and she’s still in awe of his home. It was clean and sleek but with all the hominess still easily found if you looked a little closer. Tea cloths hanging over the ovens’ handles that had interlocking G’s - a facet of Gucci she could only assume. Various paintings of different scenes, one a Japanese store front and another a Blue Jay perched easily on a thin branch.

There were unique painted tiles that he must use for hot plates and a single fancy floral mug tucked next to an espresso machine and just little things that she was keen on exploring at some point, but Harry caught her attention.

“Adult slushie?” He inquires with an arched brow.

“Does the slushie perform exotic dances?” She asks jokingly.

Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Sometimes those that drink it do.”

She reddens at his implication. He then looks at her seriously and she regards him with utter delight. Her eyes twinkle as he moves about his home with ease.

“If you make it,” she confirms, in awe that he would make cocktails on this random occasion.

He smiles at her and begins his final tasks, checking to make sure the popcorn doesn’t burn and grabs the ingredients he needs to make the drink he was thinking of.

She stands beside him, eyes constantly wondering between his moving physique and his home.

“Did you know I know Emma?” Harry asks, looking up from the blender. She notices how his neck muscles twist and strain as he gazes at her. He was wearing a white t-shirt with ‘But Daddy I Love Him’ in a red vintage font and a black cardigan with different colorful objects on it, mostly flowers, it said ‘Spaceboy’ on the back and she had smiled when she saw it when he led her to the kitchen.

She hums, her gaze focused on him. His green eyes flicker across her face and down her body, simply taking into account her outfit. Pink sweatpants and a long sleeve with a drawing of a cute little clown holding two guns up at the air. While it might have sounded like a weird thing to have printed on a shirt, he found it fun, he was always appreciative of different clothing. Of course she had a gun-slinging clown shirt that she managed to make sweet, he thought.

“Fascinating connections of the rich and famous,” she muses.

“Yeah, well, Susan - Harry Lambert,” he corrects his friend’s nickname, catching himself, “he styles us both so we’ve met a few times. She’s really lovely.”

“That’s pretty epic,” she says and wanders closer to Harry, wanting a better look at his progress on the drinks.

Her hand rests on the countertop next to the two glasses he intends to place the ‘slushies’ into. The liquor he used just said “Blue” and she wondered what blue would taste like as he pours the glasses now. The consistency of them being relatively slushie like, she was impressed.

Her smile gives it away and Harry eyes her, “What’re you smiling at?”

“I’m admiring your bartending skills,” she meets his eyes and she realizes how rather close they’ve gotten as he leans slightly over her and the countertop.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says playfully, “I take my mixology very seriously so I don’t want any praise until you’ve actually tried it.”

He holds the glass up to her and instead of grabbing it from him, she simply guides it to her lips. Her hand lightly grasping at the soft fabric of his cardigan. She parts her lips and takes a small sip, maintaining eye contact with Harry.

When the icey liquid passes her lips, her eyes flutter shut at the sweetness of the drink, it was like candy but with a light kick at the end from the alcohol. She loved it and when she opened her eyes again she took the drink from Harry’s strong hand and took another sip.

“This is dangerously good,” she finally says and Harry grins.

“Fantastic! Now we’re ready to start the show,” and he leads them into his living room that is just as big or bigger than his kitchen. A large screen television and a turquoise velvet couch are the main attractions of the room, at least what Y/N is focused on. There’s more art and posters up in this room, a lovely round coffee table and gorgeous vintage rug.

“Wait, Susan?” she circles back to Harry’s earlier comment about Emma Corin and their shared stylist.

Harry smiles and sits next to her comfortably, placing the drinks on coasters and the other various items on the coffee table.

“It’s my nickname for Harry since we’re both...Harry. Just felt silly calling each other Harry and Sue and Susan, they just fit so well.”

She nods, “I see.” But she didn’t really get it. She’d never had a friend where they only called each other a different name from their own, maybe a nickname that she would occasionally call them, but never one so ingrained that she would call them it when referring to them to someone else who surely didn’t know them and wouldn’t know them by the different name. Not that she really knew who Harry Lambert was in the first place, but it still made more sense than Susan. She shook it off just as another quirk of Harry being who he was.

They settle in for the show and they love talking through it, which Y/N was happy that Harry liked to talk during shows as well. She hated when people shushed her during movies and shows when she had something to say. They commented on the fashion and how wild some of the stuff was. Thankfully, as well, even Harry thought some of the things the royals did were absurdly lavish.

“He is so hot,” she finally says when Prince Charles is on the screen for another time and she can’t keep it in anymore, “How could they cast him for Prince Charles, they are far too kind.”

“Josh?” Harry questions, glancing over at his friend curled up on the couch next to him. She had her feet tucked beneath her legs and had her body on its side while staring at the television.

“Don’t tell me you know him too?” She says, taking her focus off the TV to look at Harry, a chocolate chip landing in her mouth once she finished talking.

Their blue slushies had been finished and the popcorn was half eaten. She was pretty sure they were on the second episode already.

He laughs, “No, but Emma says he’s very nice...He is rather attractive.”

That makes her smile, the both of them finding an actor attractive. It felt like Harry was like one of her friends from home, chatting about boys, something she really didn’t do anymore.

“Maybe you can introduce us,” she laughs, her head nudging at Harry’s shoulder beside her.

She doesn’t notice Harry’s lack of mirth at her joke as she turns her attention back to the screen, re-immersing herself in the plot. He twitches slightly uncomfortably at the thought of him introducing her to someone she might be interested in romantically.

“Why not,” he says half-heartedly and he hopes she doesn’t notice his tone.

The next day was Friday and she had the day off as per usual.

After three episodes of the Crown, she and Harry had decided to call it a night. He had offered that she could spend the night so she didn’t have to walk home after she had refused to let him walk her across the street. However, she declined, saying she didn’t like leaving Rori alone at night, especially since he was still getting used to the new house. Harry had understood but she could tell he was saddened by her leaving.

She had decided to plant some flowers in her front yard, hoping to liven it up. She had bought some plants at the local flower shop, pansies and aster thinking that purple and gold would look lovely together. She planned to set to work with little experience, but plenty of intention. Rori was outside with her for moral support, prancing through the growing grass and nibbling at the shrubs, more like a bunny than a dog.

Her mother had gifted her gardening tools a long time ago and their entire family had laughed because they knew Y/N didn’t have a green anything, most definitely not a green thumb. Today she had grabbed them and the plants and had placed it all in front of her planters. Then she sat there and went on her phone, scrolling through it mindlessly. She had no idea what she was doing or where to start so getting distracted was easy.

“Need any help?”

Her head turns and she slides away her phone with a sigh, knowing exactly who had just kindly asked to lend a hand.

Harry squints down at her and in this moment she is especially aware of just how tall Harry actually is. Normally she notices his height and thinks ‘yeah he’s tall’, but right now he towers over her. His hair is catching the surprising fall sun and causing glints of gold to radiate off him. His eyes are especially light right now and she feels oddly unnerved by their color, the hazy mint of some kind of predator. He is such a presence and she thought she had finally gotten used to him being in her life, but in this moment she is taken aback. She shakes her head after a moment too long of staring up at him.

“Hi,” she breathes and stands up from her sitting position. “I was just starting to do some planting, and I don’t know if you can tell but I have no gardening skills whatsoever.”

She gestures to her set up and Harry turns his gaze from her to the plants and smiles. He had been coming back from his morning jog and instead of entering his gate, he walked through hers. He looks at everything and reaches down to pet Rori when he comes running up happily to his friend.

“Well, it looks like a good start. Aster is an interesting thing to plant…” He kneels down to start digging up the soil in the planters.

She kneels beside him and watches him attentively. “I wanted chrysanthemums, they’re one of my favorites. But they were out, so it will have to do.”

“It will do perfectly,” he looks up at her from his work, “you wouldn’t have picked it if it wasn’t amazing.”

She makes a small smile at his statement, but doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes up mimicking his actions with the soil.

“Do you garden a lot?” Her voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the quiet that had fallen over them.

“Not much anymore, I don’t really have the time, but I used to with my mum.”

She hums and scratches behind Rori’s ears absentmindedly when he looks curiously at what they’re doing.

They work silently, only talking intermittently. At one point, she grabs them glasses of water from the kitchen, mostly for Harry because he’s actually working up a sweat planting her garden. Harry hums random songs that are on his mind and she wishes he would sing for her, but she would never dare ask him to.

They talk about the Crown and how much they loved all the clothes in it last night and where the plot is going since they know the true history it’s based on. Harry offers British insight into the Royals that she had never thought about and they even venture into British politics which she admits she never really thought about since usually the US politics is far more in the spotlight.

He talks about his views on politics and she gives hers, even stranger though they even venture further into usually rocky territory and discuss religion. She is very interested by what Harry has to say about religion, his answers are both completely expected and unexpected. Something she’s noticed about Harry with her is that she always seems to be surprised by what he says, but it still manages to make complete sense after a moment.

“I’m going back to LA tomorrow,” Harry muses as he regards one of the pansies, like he’s almost staring it straight in the eye.

“Oh?” She turns to face him.

She stops her aimless moving about of the dirt. She had mostly been playing with the dirt while he did the majority of the work. She just didn’t enjoy it. Harry had definitely made the activity palatable. She’d have to tell him she would have likely given up an hour ago had he not been there.

He sighs and sets the pansy into the hole in the soil he had made for it. “More shooting for the movie, I’ll be gone for another month.”

“Wow…I think saying goodbye to you is just going to get harder and harder.” She looks away, her arms crossing over herself instinctively when the wind blows just a little too hard.

Harry looks at her now and sees her curling in on herself and he wants to hug her, but they weren’t like that. Instead he places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it slowly up and down trying to offer her some warmth.

“I think we’ve made enough progress today. It’s starting to get cold, hm?”

She looks at him now and nods, her hand moving up and capturing his in hers. Like they had when Harry walked her home after his game, their fingers twist and turn around each other. Their eyes shying between each other’s faces and interlocked hands.

She springs to her feet after a couple quiet minutes of dodging eye contact and simply enjoying the feel of one another against each other.

“I should thank you for all this help,” she starts and Harry gets up to stand, beginning to say there is no need for a thank you for what he did.

“No, no.” She stops him, “I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without your help and I took up all of your day, practically.” She takes hold of his hands now to examine the dirt that has managed to cover them since he was convinced that she should wear the gloves her mother gave her. “You should come over tonight and I’ll cook you dinner. I’m a much better cook than I am a gardener.”

Harry looks at her quietly, his eyes blinking slowly. Like he’s basking in the small movements she’s making on his hands. She traces the little cross that straddles his thumb and pointer finger on his left hand.

“I’ll make sure to bring dessert then.” He smiles and tilts his head to the right and a little forward towards her. She gazes up at him softly. “I might even bring something extra special.”

She raises her brows, “A special treat from Harry Styles himself. I’ll be anxiously awaiting your return then.” She taunts him only slightly because what he had said just about brought her to her knees. The way his smile had shifted to a smirk and how his voice has grown quiet and low, it just felt very intimate.

Harry returns at half past six, as requested by Y/N. He was freshly showered and cologned and she had never found a man more attractive than in that moment. Before he came over he told her he was dressing nice and she had no idea what that might mean with him. But when she saw him, she understood.

What it meant was a crisp blue big collared Gucci dress shirt unbuttoned almost half way down his chest revealing his ever present cross and fitted high waisted brown trousers. His fresh haircut meant for the 50’s slicked back with pieces beginning to fall about just perfectly. No belt, no cufflinks, and no suit coat. Instead of a coat he had on a jacket that was similar to her giraffe jacket he had borrowed all those days ago. His own was comfortably settled over his shoulders and it was obviously made of fabrics far nicer than hers and wasn’t fraying in any place.

He posed in her doorway and even gave a twirl at which time Y/N laughed happily. It looked amazing on him, she had no idea how her jacket had been the thing that started this all.

“How do you like it?” He asks seriously. “Does it look alright?”

“It looks perfect on you, Har. Is that the extra special surprise?”

He smirks smugly at her compliment and comes into the home, greeting Rori quickly before following her back into the kitchen where she was still cooking.

“Oh no,” he says and places a bag filled with a bottle of red wine and a pint of her favorite ice cream on the counter (and the surprise tucked neatly at the bottom of the bag).

She looks at him quizzically as he begins to take the items out of the bag.

“There’s one last thing in there,” he points to the bag casually, while putting the ice cream in her freezer. “Do ya’ mind grabbing it for me, dove?”

She rolls her eyes and reaches into the bag. Her hand retrieves a magazine from the bottom of the bag and when she flips it over to the front side, a gasp escaped her lips.

“Harry! Oh my god!” Her hand goes to her mouth as she takes in the cover.

A US Vogue magazine with Harry on the front of it. He’s blowing up a balloon in the photo and he looks beautiful. His skin is flawless and his hair is luscious and flowing a little longer than he kept it now due to the movie.

“I’m a Vogue cover model now, eh?” He asks, looking on apprehensively as she begins to gingerly flick her fingers through the magazine’s pages.

“This is the surprise?” She looks up from the page with him and Gemma sitting side by side.

Harry nods and watches her absentmindedly trace his face on the page.

“Do you like the pictures?” His voice is soft and almost timid?

“Of course!” She exclaims, not wanting to let any doubts pass through Harry’s mind. “Is this what you were doing up in Scotland a couple months ago, right before we became friends and you said you wanted to surprise me with something top secret?”

He nods again, his grin creeping onto his face as she stares at the photo of him in the cover photo’s outfit where you can see the entire dress.

“I want that dress...did they let you keep it?” She continues flicking through the pages lightly and glancing at Harry across from her. The dinner forgotten for the moment.

“It’s Gucci, I didn’t keep it, but I’m sure I could call Susan and get you one ordered,” he replies easily, leaning over the counter to watch the magazine.

She scoffs, “I can’t afford a Gucci gown for no reason...AND before you try to say you’ll pay for it, I would never accept such a gift and I am so for real about that, Harry.”

He waves his hands out in front of him as if to say he’d never suggest such a thing even though they both knew he’d buy it for her in a heartbeat.

“These pants…” she mutters, eyes now fixed on the trousers Harry is wearing in a specific photo in the magazine. They’re tan with a darker stripe on the side of them but the most intriguing part is all of the different drawings on it that seemed to be all related to Harry.

“They’re fab, no?” He quirks a brow at her, his face still holding an apprehensive grin like she’ll take back her praise at a moment’s notice.

“So fab,” she echoes. “Are they bespoke?” Her question has a hint of sarcasm dripping behind it, knowing by now Harry was notorious for custom-made items.

“What gave it away?” He wiggles his brows.

Her eyes flicker to meet his and she sees they’ve ended up face to face once again. It seemed to happen too often with one another. She settles the magazine down and stands up straight. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in the proximity of his inviting lips. The proximity of his warmth that had seemed to seep into all facets of her life in the last two months or so. It was wonderful and warm, but it wasn’t hers. She shared him with so many other people and she couldn’t get carried away with him because tomorrow he’d be gone.

“That really is amazing Harry. I’m very proud of you, but if you don’t want a burnt dinner, I need to start paying attention to what I’m cooking.” She turns away from him and she quickly takes a palm to swipe beneath her eye, collecting the stray liquid that somehow fell from her eye. Funny thing, she wasn’t cooking with onions.

Harry doesn’t notice the movement, simply sighing that she turned from him yet again. He ran a hand through his hair, further tousling the once coiffed hairdo and then twisted his ‘H’ ring around his finger before settling on a bar stool to flip through the magazine and watch her cook.

“When does the magazine come out?” She calls as she stirs the sauce that she’d be pouring over their spaghetti squash once it was finished baking.

“Next week, They’ll release the story online and then I’ll be hitting shelves,” he muses, reading a different story in the magazine, not particularly interesting in himself.

“I’m sure you’ll be flying off those shelves the second you’re placed down.” She laughs at her joke and Harry rubs his lips with his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.

“You think so?” His eyes sparkle with mischief at his question.

She turns her head, an open-mouthed grin already on her face, a slight scoff falling from her mouth, “Oh c’mon, you know so. I think you’re one of the most loved men in the world and people fall more and more in love each year.” She almost added ‘and I don’t blame them’ but she refrained thankfully.

“Most loved...I like that. Such an interesting way to put it.”

“I mean, you’ve been famous for what? Ten years now? That’s a long time and I don’t think you’re going anywhere...At this point it’s not about how big your celebrity star is, it’s your level of belovedness and I think that level is quite high.” She comments on something about Harry they never talked too much of. Sometimes they talked about him knowing famous people and about the work he had to fly off to do, but never the specific fame of it all. She didn’t really think Harry liked to talk about.

She didn’t have much of an opinion on it, it didn’t matter to her whether Harry was a famous multi-talented big-C celebrity or he was a nobody with a random job. As long as he was still her neighbour she would never complain. He made her so happy and maybe if he hadn’t been famous he wouldn’t be the way that he was so she would never say it was a nuisance. It just came along with him.

“Well...like I said, it’s a lovely way to put it. So, thank you for that.”

He stands up now, forgetting the magazine and rounding the counter to find a cork for the wine seeing that Y/N was doing the final touches on their food.

They eat dinner across from each other at her modest-sized dinner table. Harry slips his giraffe coat off and rolls up his sleeves to allow him to “really dig in” to the dinner she made for them. Maybe some footsy occurs beneath the table but neither of them would ever admit to it so did it really happen? Just feet moving randomly and happening to rub against one another every so often.

After dinner and a bottle of wine, the two of them join Rori in the living room where he’s curled up on one of the throw pillows. Y/N runs back to the kitchen to scoop them ice cream and whips of two Moscow Mules to go with it because she had brought up how when she usually goes home for the holidays, her and her sister always have a competition of who can make the most unique but best tasting Moscow Mule. Harry had said how he’d love to be there one day for that and she had blushed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear from the comment before taking a large gulp of wine. Since that wasn’t possible right now, her tipsy mind had decided that the next best thing was to make some basic ones right now.

“I bring a Mule and an ice cream,” she says airly, playing like a royal herself, as she holds them out to Harry.

He laughs softly and accepts them graciously, doing a slight head bow to her. Before he can say anything she’s a flash of plaid and red as she runs back for her own ice cream and drink. He had been complimenting her plaid pants with golden bees on them all night and asked her where she got them, teasing that they must be Gucci, but all she would say is that he couldn’t have them to go make a copy of this time.

She re-enters the room and dims the lights with her hip. Then she settles beside him, clinking her glass with him and they both take their first sip.

“Hmmm,” Harry hums after he tastes the cocktail, “I like it.”

“Moscow Mules are a favorite with my family,” she muses, flicking through the television to get them set up to watch the Crown again.

“Maybe I should meet them and thank them for bestowing such a good favorite unto their daughter?” Harry asks and she laughs and rolls her eyes. Questions of meeting family when they were just friends didn’t need a response. Right?

They spoon ice cream into their mouths as the show begins and they murmur comments to one another throughout the episode. They idly pet Rori sometimes as he moves randomly around the room trying to find the place he likes most. Once Harry’s done with his ice cream, Rori thinks his chest is the best place to be and Y/N can’t help but snap a quick photo of it.

“Not quite as handsome without the dress, but it’ll do,” she sighs and snuggles into Harry’s side. Her hand reaches up to scratch at Rori which then leaves her arm wrapped around Harry when her dog inexplicably leaves to go to bed a few minutes later.

He was an awfully good wingman Harry would easily admit at a much later date.

They stay cuddled casually with one another for the entirety of two more episodes and they realize they’re more than halfway done with the season. A yawn from Y/N cues to Harry that he should suggest they pause for the night. She agrees easily, her head nuzzling into his strong shoulder for a little while.

Harry takes the remote from her and turns off the television before flicking on the side table turquoise glass-blown lamp.

“Can I put some music on?” He whispers in her ear, already knowing the answer, but waiting for her to nod her head. She obliges and he slowly slides her onto the couch beneath them. Then he begins padding around her house to find her speaker.

“Arrow Through Me” by Harry’s all time role model Paul McCartney’s second band Wings begins to play through the speakers. What a fucking moutful.

She perks up at the music and sits up straighter on her couch. Her smile grows as Harry shakes his hips a little and moves to the beat of the song as he makes his way back over to the couch. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead of words ringing loud through the room, it's the sound of a phone buzzing from somewhere between a few cushions on the couch

“Oh shit...shit, shit, shit,” she awakens herself out of her daze with her profanity. Attempting to find her phone rather haphazardly, she stumbles around the couch.

It’s Harry who fishes the phone from beneath a throw pillow and hands it over to his friend. She smiles thankfully, her hair a little messy and her eyes slightly crazed, before picking up the phone without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?...Cate?...Oh, hey….No, I didn’t look at the ID...figured it was you or someone in the states...no one in the UK would call me right now...It’s almost midnight here, you asshole,” she pauses and points at the phone and mouths “it’s Cate” like Harry hadn’t been sitting there listening to the entire conversation.

“I’m just hanging out watching the new season of Crown...with Harry...yeah, that Harry,” she flits her eyes to Harry for a second and rolls her eyes sarcastically.

“Talk to him? I mean.. I can put you on speaker, I guess?” She looks at Harry and he nods his head eagerly.

She rejoins him on the couch and places the phone on the coffee table, tapping on the speaker.

“You’re on speaker now.”

“Hi Harry!” Cate crackles over the line, happily, likely just awoken from her slumber in California.

“Hullo, love,” he says sweetly, his voice beginning to slow even more as the night wears on.

Y/N rolls her eyes at both of her friends, knowing Harry was laying it on thick and that Cate would squeal over this exchange for the next three weeks.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” She inquires sweetly and Harry makes an arched brow at Y/N and she only supplies a shaken head and a shoulder shrug.

“Cate….” Y/N drags out, annoyed with her for both saying that and for calling just as she was planning on going to sleep.

“Sorry! Friends, I know. Even though staying in on a Friday night with just the two of you doesn’t sound very friendly…” She begins to ramble on, but Y/N offers another warning ‘Cate’. Cate takes the hint and finishes her teasing. “Anyways…”

Harry and Y/N are completely red, sitting next to one another but grateful for the minimal lighting.

“I was just calling to check-in. Do you know what you’re doing for the holidays yet? I know you don’t do thanksgiving anymore - which was yesterday by the way - since you’re all British now.”

Y/N scoffs at her close friend and Harry nudges her side about the British thing.

“I don’t know yet, I have to see my work schedule and all that. I don’t know if I want to fly across the world this year though…” She trails off, kind of quieting in hope that Cate will miss it.

Harry regards the conversation, casually interested, yet intrigued since he had been meaning to ask the exact same question.

Cate hums, obviously unhappy with the response. “Alright. And you Harry? Do you usually go home to your family for the holidays?”

“You don’t need to answer that,” Y/N interjects.

Harry places a hand on her thigh to let her know that it’s completely fine. An easy smile on his lips as he speaks to the phone. Y/N places her hand over Harry’s on instinct.

“Usually, yeah. This year we were thinking of all going out to my place in Italy so it’s kind of up in the air right now. When I get back from LA, I’ll probably finalize it.”

“LA you said? We should get together while you’re here.”

“Cate. He’s there on business.”

“I know...but still. It’s fine,” Cate laughs lightly, knowing she was pushing her luck with this conversation as it was. “Anyways, darling, I just wanted to tell you I miss you and that Harry’s not allowed to replace me as your best friend. Y’hear that Mr. Styles?”

“I sure do, love.”

Everyone laughs whole heartedly and Harry and Y/N are still playing with each other’s fingers on top of her thigh.

Y/N thinks that’s enough of the conference call with Harry and Cate so she snatches the phone with her free hand and raises it back to her ear.

“Alright, Cate, I think we’re going to head to bed...not...not like that...I hate you...Now I definitely don’t want to come home...I’m kidding, I’ll think about it...Love you, too….Yeah I’ll tell him...Have a nice day…”

She throws the phone on the coffee table again and falls back on the couch. Her head rolls to rest on Harry’s broad shoulder and she sighs softly. Harry moves his head to rest over hers, chuckling softly. His sweet breaths of joy are why he then receives a soft slap on his far arm, only making him laugh more.

“Shut up,” her muffled voice comes out from against his blue shirt that is far more crumpled than it was when he came over hours ago.

“She’s so funny,” he laughs again, nosing his face into her hair.

“She tries to get away with way too much,” she sighs and Harry just pats at her side, smiling and not caring at all about the things Cate was hinting at because he wanted what she was alluding to to be reality.

“Y’know I have a question because she said I can’t be your best friend and that’s fine with me, but I wanted to tell you something, love.”

Her head raises to look Harry in the eye, slightly confused by his preface.

“You’re my best friend,” he says earnestly in the dark living room, “Is that allowed?”

His accent was thick with anticipation, the night wearing on his vocal cords. It was so quiet in the room, Harry was sure she just heard him swallow his own saliva - he had paused the music after a minute into the call with Cate. He blinks twice while waiting for any response, he stares straight at her.

Her eyes barely shine through the darkness as she looks back at him. His question rattled through her mind. ‘Is it allowed’ for him to think of her as his best friend. It just didn’t make complete sense to her and she wasn’t sure if she should vocalize that doubt. But as his eyes begin to mist like a forest on a cold morning she knows she has to say something.

Her eyelids shut as she lets out a heavy breath, the processing of what Harry’s just said finishes.

“It’s allowed...Do you mean it?”

“Course I mean it,” his voice cracks, an incredulous laugh leaving his lips.

She straightens up, moving slightly from his warm embrace. He becomes fidgety without her tucked in his side. His fingers itch without her arm to caress. His lips move between his teeth without her hair to ghost over.

When she remains silent, Harry decides to continue.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he croaks and she furrows her brow at this. “It was the day you moved in...Had just come home from my morning run and you’d pulled up in your moving van. I thought you had on the coolest pair of jeans I’d ever seen…” He pauses. He takes a deep breath and her eyes are watering now.

“I also thought you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen and I knew I had to know you.”

“Why’d it’d take you so long?” Is all she asks as she tries to will away the water welling in her eyes.

Harry rolls his lips together and breathlessly laughs, head tilted up to the sky. “Never knew how to approach ya’. Then you bumped into me, felt like it was the universe kicking me for being so damn slow.”

She bites her lip, a tear rolling down her cheek finally. “Oh, Harry.”

Then there it is. What the last few months had been leading up to. The moment where they no longer were able to wonder what the other would taste like. No more guessing. No more wondering. It was concrete. It was her lips pressed to Harry’s. She laughed lightly after a moment, pressing closer to him. His lips felt like the softest pillow she could ever lay on and she never wanted to get out of bed.

A small breath came out of his nose as he pressed eagerly back against her. She tasted like ginger and chocolate and maybe cherry - her chapstick possibly. He sucked at her lips, never wanting the taste or the feeling to go away. She was so soft and smooth and she responded quickly to his push.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck and into his hair as he pulled her closer by her waist. They were attempting to inhale one another, taking inventory of every possible crevice of each other they hadn’t touched before.

Harry’s lips part slightly as he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She giggles, tugging him over her and opening up her mouth easily. He pushes forward, a small sound leaving his mouth as he shifts them into a lying position on the couch, her legs encircling his waist.

A hand runs along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone and then down her arm. It lands so that he can intertwine their hands together. He feels her smile beneath him and he smiles back despite their lips never leaving one another. His other hand caresses her cheek as he kisses her.

Eventually, his lips roam around her face and on her neck aways, but mostly he focuses on her lips. Both of them are more than happy with this decision as they continue on for what feels like hours. Yet still those hours don’t feel long enough.

She pulls at a button on his shirt at one point, but Harry pulls back.

“I think we should call it a night.”

“Really?” She looks at him with confusion and a swirl of hurt in her eyes.

“It’s late, love, and… we just, I don’t want to rush anything.”

“Alright,” she nods, sitting up and running a finger down the side of his face.

“I think I’ve been doing best friends wrong all this time.” she muses, tracing lines on Harry’s neck now. Her eyes focused on her work.

“And why’s that?” Harry asks, his own hands running up and down her back.

“I’ve never snogged a best friend for hours on end.” She laughs and Harry can’t help his snort.

He moves his head to rest on her shoulder, almost like a hug, but not quite. She doesn’t move away, simply turns her head to continue watching her hands trace him, her work now moving to the back of his neck and his upper back and shoulders.

He hums a little bit, a love song he had played for himself the last few weeks when he tried to fall asleep and all that he could think of was her. She smiles softly and places a kiss on his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, darling.”

Harry nods, wrapping his arms around Y/N and carrying her to her room.

The next morning she finds herself wrapped happily in a set of strong, tattooed arms. She sighs content, snuggling closer to the warm naked chest in front of her.

“G’morning,” the man beneath her whispers. His voice a low rumbling rasp, she feels the vibrations below her.

“Morning,” she mumbles, nuzzling her nose into the crevice of his sternum, just above the butterfly that lives on his chest.

He hums at the feeling, slightly shivering from the cold, but pulls her closer nonetheless. She caresses his side with a light touch in response. Her fingers trace unknown patterns down his ribcage and then dip to the ferns peeking from his boxers. He shifts slightly when her fingers travel there. A place no one but him had touched in a long time.

“’ve got a plane to catch,” he says sadly and he brushes a hair from her face as she turns to look at his face.

His neck strains to regard her and he has a bit of a double chin from this angle, but she couldn’t care less. He looked so beautiful staring down at her. She never wanted to look away or lose this image. His eyelashes lightly caressed the skin just below his eyes everytime he blinked. It was quiet enough that if she listened close she could hear each flutter. The eyes behind them were even better, a dark rim of green encases emerald irises that hold black and gold specs, stars and stories swirl hidden beneath it all. She wants to drown in it.

He winks at her as she stares, growing disarmed with her intense gaze on him for so long. Her calming caress keeps him grounded though and she laughs at the wink, relieving him of her scrutiny that he didn’t understand was awe.

She groans, unhappy, “Miss it.”

“I can’t,” he drags out, not wanting to leave either.

“Can’t convince you to stay, no?” She rolls on top of him, pushing her chest against him and giving him doe eyes.

His strong arms encircle her waist as her legs straddle him. She arches more into him and leans down to kiss in between his pecs. Her eyes never leave his face, watching his reaction. It’s his turn to groan with a loud sigh to match. He throws his head back and steals himself to say,

“Not even a chance.”

She remembers when he had begged her to come with him and she smiles at his recycling over her response.

“Fair enough,” she says and rolls off of him. His head falls to the side to watch her get up and begin her day. He takes a deep breath, wishing he didn’t have to leave.

Harry heads back to his place to get ready for his departure. Before he leaves he joins Y/N and Rori for an early tea at the café. They get their drinks to go and walk back to Harry’s together. When they arrive, Harry’s car is waiting and she feels a dryness in her throat. He looks down at Rori and gives him a quick pet. He turns to her and she smiles weakly.

Harry’s hand encircles her wrist, caressing her softly. He leans down quickly and pecks her lips. It feels like he was barely there and then he was gone. It was like a butterfly had landed on her lips and wrist and then it had vanished.

Off his sleek black car goes, soon out of sight and headed for the airport. And there she is, left on Sherwood Avenue. Her fingers move to dance over her lips and then over her jaw and down her neck. Every place his touch had burned her in the past 24 hours. And now he was gone, across the world.

No talk of what came next had been spoken between them. She wasn’t sure what they were and didn’t know if she could handle that talk over the phone. She walked home after a few minutes of standing with her dog in front of Harry’s now vacant home. She sat silently in her house for half of the day.

At dusk, she decides on a run, maybe it will get her mind off her neighbour. She had sat in the same spot for too long. The same spot they had kissed each other last night. Maybe a change of scenery would stop the movie reel of last night that kept playing over and over in her mind.

She runs down the street, specifically keeping her eyes off the lovely home across from her, and keeps running down different streets, past the café, down to the park, and then finally reaches a stream that is past some brush and trees at the end of the park. There’s a bench there that seems like a nice place to rest.

Her music has been playing the entire time, the playlist she chose was inundated with Taylor Swift - but not chosen for that specific reason. Each song thankfully not from 1989. At least not until she’s running through the park. “You are in love” begins to play, it’s soft Twin Peaks-esque opening is familiar to her. It fits the cool rush of wind against her skin and the leaves that have turned brown as fall has worn on. She’d listened to it a thousand times. Sometimes thinking about the man who inspired the song, but all those times were long before she had ever met him.

Now that she knew him, she almost skipped it, but shook her head to herself feeling silly for feeling uncomfortable listening to a song she liked. Her run turns into a walk as she reaches the stream. The chorus begins. Taylor softly serenades about being in love. About a man in love with a woman. About Harry being in love with her.

She takes a deep breath, hearing the words a little different this time. Taylor sings “You kiss on sidewalks” and this morning flashes in her mind. She looks out at the stream, the water rushing along as she stands there, still catching her breath. Then the next part of the song reaches into her heart and twists it with all its might.

“One night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says, ‘you’re my best friend’.”

And that’s it. She takes out her headphones, her breath no longer capable of being caught. She breathes heavier and heavier. Her throat was as tight and dry as when Harry had left this morning. Possibly even worse. She can’t even swallow this time. Her phone and headphones are discarded on the bench as she raises her hands to her face and begins to pace beside the stream. Her eyes eventually match the body of water next to her and she feels a sob wrack through her. She couldn’t breath, her running and panic had brought her asthma to the forefront and she was hyperventilating, gasping for air. She was drowning and no one was there to help her.

Tears stream down her face and she moves her hands to her thighs as she tries to calm down, not knowing how she reached this level of distraughtness. Deep breaths she reminds herself. She licks her lips and shuts her eyes. “Just ground yourself,” she whispers.

When she’s finally gotten ahold of herself she sits at the bench and stares into the stream. A distorted version of herself seems to stare back. It’s constantly moving, swirling, and changing and as she watches that version of herself she wants to scream. Her tears had faded awhile ago, but the fear was still there.

The last few months had been so easy, had been so perfect. Going over to each other’s houses and being with each other. But if she ignored history wasn’t she destined to repeat it? When she heard the confessional of the man Taylor had loved in her song, when he had told her she was his best friend which meant he was in love, she felt hurt. She knew how their story ended. Taylor and Harry’s. He left. He left her when she needed him and today, Y/N realized it’s what he does. It wasn’t his fault, she didn’t blame him for leaving today. It was his job, not another woman. But holy fuck when she heard Taylor sing those lyrics, it felt like she had been hit on the head out of nowhere. Reminded that she had been living in a fairytale for the last few months, swept up in a fantasy that she wasn’t meant to be a part of.

She ran a hand over her face, rubbing slightly at her cheek. The same cheek Harry had caressed last night and she sighed. She stared off into the trees and then shook her head, standing up and heading back home. Alone.

Harry calls her when he arrives at LAX. She doesn’t pick up. He calls the next day. She doesn’t pick up. He texts and receives no response for three days.

She thought she didn't know what she would say.

“I listened to too much of your ex’s music and now I’m insecure.”

“I feel like you’re gonna leave me someday so I’m too afraid to do anything with you.”

“Is it alright if we’re just friends, I don’t think my heart could take the pain of falling in love with you and then losing you.”

“You can’t promise me forever and after just one kiss I knew I couldn’t do anything less.”

“The price of loving you is far too high.”

She types them all out and then deletes them every time. Too scared. Instead:

“I’m busy with work, I don’t know when I won’t be. Let’s just plan on meeting up when you’re home.”

Harry nods when he sees the text on Friday. He tells her to take care and make sure she gets enough rest. He wipes away the stray tear that decided to escape his eyes after reading her response. He exhales and looks to the sky, wondering what could have possibly happened since he had left. He sends little emojis over the next few weeks that she puts a heart on, but she doesn’t communicate otherwise.

Harry doesn’t ask her to pick him up. Instead he sends flowers to her house the Thursday before he returns. They make her smile and she wonders if maybe she can move past every red flag she feels like she sees. After a month away, she can’t lie and say she’s not excited for Harry to return. She missed his warm skin and his soft hair. She missed everything and the flowers had only made her wish it had been Harry on her doorstep a couple days early.

He gets home on the 12th and he’s at her door after throwing his things in his entryway.

She opens the door and bites her lip as she takes in who it is.

Harry says her name breathlessly and she melts. Her doubts fly out the window for the moment and all she wants are his lips on hers.

She falls into him and his lips are on hers. They twist into one another and their lips move softly yet urgently against one another. Not sure how to explain the last four weeks, they both attempt to say everything in that kiss. All her pain and confusion press into Harry’s lip with each breath. All his sadness and longing tug at her lips as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and hungers for more.

He pulls back and stares straight into her eyes, “Come to Italy with me for the holidays.”

She tilts her head confused, trying to catch her own breath.

“I’m not sure what happened while I was gone, love. But I know I missed you and I can’t go another month without you. Just say yes and we’ll take it from there...Please,” he begs, voice cracking as he holds her cheek.

She wets her lips and opens them to speak, but her voice betrays her. Instead she just nods and squeaks out a noise of approval. Too elated to speak, they press their lips back together and she pulls Harry into her home.

December was far too cold to snog out in the freezing night air.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #neighbor!harry #I live in the neighbourhood #part 2 #part 3 to come #pls rb and message me ily #surprisingly somewhat proofread

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rachetmath · 3 years ago

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Favorite (Characters)

Ruby: *barges in* RatchetMath!

Me: What is it Ruby?

Ruby: You’re showing favoritism.

Me: Okay. And?

Ruby: You need to stop. Why not draw us for once?

Me: Hm, maybe because I like Jaune more. Hell I like Penny and Neo more than you or your team.

Ruby: Why?!

Me: Because your team is horrible.

Ruby: So is team JNPR!

Me: Yeah, but only because they have to follow you. They have some individuality but we don’t explore that as much. Plus, your team would be dead without them. But you know what Ruby, I would rather draw Yang, Blake or any other character except Weiss than you right now.

Ruby: What?! But I’m-

Me: The main character that barely does main character things. Woman, Salem was in Atlas! Why was she not your top priority? Why was James your problem?

Ruby: Um well…

Me: Ruby, she knows your mother! She might know what happened to her! I get Yang was some levels your mom but shouldn’t learning what happened to your actual mom be just as important? Especially after that dark memory.

Ruby: That is true.

Me: You have silver eyes but you still don’t know how to use them. There was army of grimm around Mantle and that would have been good practice. And a better solution than Ren.

Ruby: But then I be overpowered.

Me: No. Ruby your silver eyes only work on one person. If someone sneaks up on you or doesn’t care about that light you give off then, you’re dead. Maria is proof on that.

Ruby: Um..

Me: Plus, the question that everyone in the audience could have an answer to is whether your silver eyes can even work on Salem. In all honesty, it proves the writer don’t keep track of the characters and their personalities to where they fit together in story. You know what I have been making skits, trying to be funny but… the jokes died. Look guys I-I’m sorry but… let me explain.

1. Ruby and Blake should have stayed in Mantle. Why?

1. Salem is the main villian. She knows Ruby’s mother. You know the same mother who left for a mission and didn’t come back. The same mother, who Ruby knows nothing about while everyone seems to have different perspectives of her. Or has a better clue on who she is, than Ruby herself. Plus wasn’t Salem after her too? She basically would be killing two birds with one stone by kidnapping Oscar and giving Ruby a reason to see her. That way Ruby isn’t assuming what happened to her mother. Let Salem antagonize Ruby. (Question: Can silver eyes work on Salem?)

2. Perfect training for silver eyes. Let’s face it, Ren proved to us he can mask a bunch of people without Jaune’s help. All he needed was concentration. However, Ruby is more effective because silver eyes seem to be able to destroy multiple grimm on sight. And with lives on the line that gives Ruby plenty of reason to start using them.

3. Ren calling Ruby out on her issues. Look I loved how Ren was willing to tell the truth, but him revealing Jaune cheated Beacon was… weak. Reason being it relates to Jaune’s character and Ren still follows Jaune’s orders. However, Ruby, who is supposed to be a prodigy because she came to Beacon two years ahead of her class, has not proven once that she is worthy of such praise. The only reason-The ONLY reason Ruby was enrolled into Beacon was her silver eyes. Ruby even in volume one has been nothing but liability. Initiations, she almost dies from a Stinger. Stake out, she almost got run over by a truck and it ended in failure. First mission, she gets kidnapped and almost destroyed a city block. Roman, a man with no semblance or aura continues to beat her four times in a row. And it gets worse. Ruby almost got her uncle killed. She was the first to get knocked out by Emerald. Almost dies by a robot and Godzilla. And the moment she arrived in Atlas her first move was to lie to James. She didn’t even try to stop Tyrian when she saw him. She had her gun with her too. Ren is not her sister, he might as well tell her the facts so she can do better.

4. Blake is Faunus. Mantle hates faunuses. Why not have Blake help them to prove faunuses are people too? Let Blake represent her people. I mean Velvet and Sun represent faunses more than she does her whole existence. Blake also can relate to Ren’s problem. How? Blake was a part of the White Fang, so there were expectations she had to fulfill. Especially when trying to measure up to Adam. However, she explains the longer she was in the White Fang, the more she found out how messed up and extremely bias it was. Including with Adam to the point she decided to leave. She even states she was lucky that Yang even forgave her after all the trouble she caused her. Blake challenged her bias nature, and it made her stronger for it. Blake would be basically telling Ren the more he tries to live up to someone else’s expectations, without seeing their flaws, the more he loses touch with himself and everyone around him.

5. Oscar shouldn’t have been able break out of Salem on his own: I’m sorry but… Oscar got beat up. Took a magic beam to the chest. Had to switch between him and Ozpin and mind you he had no aura to help him. He should be tired and unable to move. (In my opinion, this kid was given too much screen time. At first I was worried about him but now I’m wondering why was I worrying at all.)

2. Jaune and Yang should have gone to Atlas.

1. Penny is basically Pyrrha in the opposite light. Penny’s special because she’s a robot with a soul, a mind of her own and an attitude to prove it. She is just as human as everyone else, but no one seems to treat her as such. James only sees her as something of a weapon. Pietro treats her like child even though she’s more mature than the rest of the female cast, except Maria. And now with maiden powers, everyone is out casting Penny even more. Jaune is perfect for her because he has experience with this kind of issue. However, he would’ve had to take different route to the situation considering his failure with Pyrrha last time they had discussion on maiden powers or responsibilities (Destiny.).

2. Jaune already has been a part of maiden business since volume three. His reason to be with Penny would be make sure she doesn’t meet the same fate as Pyrrha or Amber. Not just for himself but for others around him. Especially since Cinder was in Atlas and is willing to hunt her down for the maiden powers. And James was willing to turn Penny into a soulless machine to follow his every command. (Actually, Watts is more a fault considering he hates Pietro.). James and Cinder are also opposite to Jaune in some ways. James earned his position and earned respect from his military. Jaune on the other hand cheated, and unlike James might not have everybody’s respect. Cinder treats her allies like tools. And with power she just consumes and gives nothing return. Jaune however treats his allies like family. And instead of just taking power he gives power to others around him. He’s the reason Cinder has maiden powers. So, him making it his personal mission to make sure Cinder doesn’t get more power only increases his resolve to protect Penny. (Especially since he already had to kill her in the canon finale.) In other words, James and Cinder purposed a challenge to Jaune. Can he pervert history from repeating itself? Can he really protect the maiden powers? Is he truly worthy of being a huntsman? What is he willing to risk in achieving his goal? (Also let’s be clear. Hazel beat Oscar down for the password to the relic. James shot the kid and was willing to let him fall to his death. Qrow intentionally punched the kid. I don’t care if it was for Ozpin, he still punched Oscar. Lion before even knowing Oscar was Ozpin reincarnation was already about kill him anyways. All Jaune did was push him to a wall. Yes, Jaune still would have hurt Oscar, but he didn’t. He walked away.)

3. A lot of the situations could’ve been avoided or mattered if Jaune was there. Don’t believe me? Well let me explain. Was Ruby the only option when sneaking pass Central Command? No, because they had Weiss, Nora and Penny. Weiss could have done a freezer burn like in her fight with Marrow. Or Nora could have thrown her grenades and Penny just shoots them before the hit the ground or damage anything. Both causing a smoke screen, so no one sees them. Plus, they were already caught by using Pietro credentials. Did Nora need to get knocked out for the team to escape? No. If she had Jaune with her they could’ve one caused an EMP wave being Jaune has gravity and Nora has lightning. Or two, if Nora still went through with it, Jaune would have healed her immediately. Penny lifting and keeping the arena in place. If Jaune and Weiss were with her then once Amity was in position, Weiss with Jaune’s assistances can keep it place so Penny can come back inside and the whole video could be played. Also, Pietro would know what was going on with his daughter and can properly explain how to fix her. (Better than Jaune healing her.)

4. Nora’s whole character is knowing who she is without Ren right? Then why not just have her lead the evacuation once she’s done with Atlas? Why not have her and Yang work together along with the happy huntress to evacuate Mantle? Especially if their friends disappeared to save Oscar. (And before ya’ll tell me they can’t do it….. Yang, blocked a punch from a mech, held off a Manticore, and has a semblance that literally lets her take damage and dish it back five times harder. Nora who literally crushed Weiss and Yang in a food fight. Knocked a giant horse down on its knee. And knocked Hazel away. Are you seriously saying these girls are not enough to take on a few little tigers? Come on!) If the whole point of Nora’s character development was finding out more about herself then let Nora try something without Ren. Let her call the shots. Let her take charge. Give her a character. (Hell don’t stop there. Have her interact with other characters. Like Jaune. Yang. Weiss. Or anyone other character than Ren. Let them tell her what they think about her. Let Nora be a solution to a character’s struggle. Ya’ll make it sound like Nora has no friends.)

5. All Yang needed was a break from Ruby and Blake. In all honesty Yang should have been the one to see the hounds face and kill it. Why? Well Ruby is Yang’s sister and only reminder of her nonblood related mother. And Blake is her girlfriend. And if we saw the hound’s face, we know it’s not just a silver eyed person. It’s also a faunus. This will give her a reason to protect both her loved ones because by seeing the hound she knows Salem intention with Ruby and want to keep her, and Blake from meeting the same fate of being turned into monsters. Yang should’ve been the 2nd to 4th member of team RWBY to fall. Why? One, a Yang vs Neo fight. Two, Cinder and Neo both wanted Ruby dead. So why not get rid of Ruby first? The fights would have been more thrilling and seeing the character, the show is named after, presumed to be dead would have added stakes and tension to the fight. (Also let me say this. Why is it, that the only great display of the maiden powers I’ve ever seen, was from Amber and not the maidens, as of now, Winter, Raven, and Cinder? The maiden powers are basically magic right? Why isn’t Cinder using any other element than fire?)

6. Weiss was completely useless. Look, as the saying goes, “You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.” And when it came to Weiss and family, she has little to no clue of what it is nor deserves it. Weiss should have been more of an inspiration for Whitley to do right. How? By simply talking to him. What reason would she have other than Mantle? Simple, he’s her brother and she started off like him. Beacon, she was a brat. She was arrogant. And more importantly a jerk. Blake ran because of her racist attitude. Ruby literally had to impress her to prove she can be leader. Even though Weiss is not leadership martial herself. Plus, hearing May and how she and her family never resolved their issues should inspire Weiss to not repeat that mistake. And guess what, her mom, Willow, the drinker of the family, wasn’t wrong. Both her and Winter left Whitley alone. Klein wasn’t there for him either. All Whitley had was his father. So Weiss, actually acting like his sister and trying to help him allows him to feel less alone. Instead Weiss was complete Jacque through out the entire volume.

And that’s all. Look I know I should have seen this coming but I had to say it. Volume 8 could’ve been good. The problem was.

1. Characters are not placed well within the story.

2. We lost track of who said characters are.

3. The ships are in the way.

4. Being dumb for the plot. (Sometimes it’s necessary.)

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mindmeltonabun-blog · 4 years ago

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Doom At Your Service: Analysis & Theories for EPs 7-8

Welcome back to another edition of analyses and theories time with me! I’m going to try and keep this post as short and as simple as possible. In case I don’t, I apologize in advance! Also, sorry if this post is filled with grammar mistakes and confusing syntax...I'm writing/editing this late at night and my ADHD meds have lost their effectiveness.

Anyways Eps 7-8 was pretty awesome and I’m glad that a bunch of my previous theories had come true! For those who wonder how I come up with some of these theories, I just look at everything whether it be big or small. I also try to look for connections and patterns. At the same time, I try to understand the motivations of characters and what is the big picture the writer is trying to paint. Once you're able to do all of that then you can predict where the story is going. This is how for the most part I was able to predict the events and endings of shows like TOTNT and TKEM. Anyhow, let’s get down to analyzing and theorizing! Turn on those thinking caps!

What the Rock Balancing Structure Represents

Rock balancing is a form of art that involves a person placing a combination of rocks in an arrangement. To achieve balance of the rocks, one must be very patient and compassionate. In its completion, the structure represents that while things may appear impossible, they are actually possible. So what seems impossible, but can actually be possible? Hmmm probably Myul Mang learning what it means to be human and ending up becoming human. Notice that both the rock art is next to the plant and the story of Pinocchio? It's saying saying that the impossible can be possible. It's possible for Myul Mang to be able to learn what it means to be a human so that the impossible can happen...he can "grow" up to becoming a real human.

The whole rock balancing structure could also signify that in order to grow, one must overcome one's deepest fears. I don't know about you all, but stacking rocks is a scary thing especially since at any moment the whole thing could fall over. Anyways, if you remembered, Myul Mang had been searching everywhere for Dong Kyung and feeling like one of his worst fears (Dong Kyung not existing) had came true. It's only when he goes to Dora's hospital room and sees both the Pinocchio book and rock structure that he got Dora's lesson. And that's why afterwards you didn't see Myul Mang going on another search for Dong Kyung somewhere else.

A brief digression. I’ve seen multiple people theorizing that the plant and the butterfly represent Dong Kyung and Myul Mang respectively. To them I say, did you just completely miss the part where Dora says the plant is Myul Mang? Myul Mang is both the butterfly and the plant. For those who still don’t see that, let me break it down.

First, what do butterflies symbolize? They symbolize metamorphosis, death, and rebirth. Myul Mang is not a literal butterfly, but he will eventually be one in a metaphorical sense. If anything, Myul Mang right now is like a caterpillar on the verge of entering the cocoon stage that is followed by a reemergence as a butterfly aka human. You can also look at it this way, Pinocchio is a butterfly too. Why? Well, look at what happens to Pinocchio. He is reborn as a real boy after having gone through metamorphosis (puppet -> real boy).

Now let’s examine the plant symbolism. What do plants represent in DAYS? They represent humans. What is Dora growing? A human Myul Mang..DUH!! Sorry, but I didn’t think it was that hard of a concept to grasp especially since Dora has already explicitly said what she is growing in that one scene. For Myul Mang to grow up to become a "good" human, he needs to learn to think about others, forgive himself, be compassionate (not only towards himself, but others as well), love others, etc. Other things Myul Mang would probably need to learn is how to love his fate or amor fati (loving your fate means loving it all, not just the good parts, but the bad parts too; loving it so much so that you would never want to change anything about it and would gladly relive your life the way it was over and over again for all of eternity).

I don’t think the "plant" will fully "blossom" until Myul Mang sacrifices himself to save Dong Kyung for the sole reason that he loves her (in contrast to sacrificing himself for his own personal gain). Therefore, that's probably the final lesson -- how to be completely selfless.

Dora just wants her son to grow up to be a "good" plant (human) so she doesn't have to end up pulling him out aka end him before he even becomes human! Okay???

Sorry if what I've just said was confusing. What I meant to say is that Myul Mang's personal growth is reflective in the plant's growth. The more he learns of what it means to be a "good" human, the more the plant will grow until it blossoms into a beautiful flower (a real human).

If we want to connect the idea of personal growth to the story of Pinocchio, we see that Pinocchio's growth occurs only after he experiences pain (physical and emotional) and love. From these experiences, he learns what it means to be a "good" boy and is rewarded by the Fairy transforming him into a real boy.

One Wish or Wishes?

In my previous post, I had briefly touched upon how I think Dong Kyung is going to wish for brain cancer to be cured. Though I still think this, I nevertheless want to explore some of the other possibilities of what her wish could be.

Potential Wishes:

1) Myul Mang to Become Human

2) More Wishes

3) Contract to be Voided

4) No One Remembering Her After She Dies

For #1, Dong Kyung wishes Myul Mang to become human, but then she still dies from her untreated brain cancer…so nope. For #2 and #3, are these wishes even allowed? I would like to point out some flaws of the writer. Maybe it’s not so much a flaw, but an annoyance I have with the writer of DAYS. What one can or cannot wish for is not explicitly stated. Due to this, it is somewhat difficult for me to accurately predict what Dong Kyung will wish for. It’s like trying to detect a substance without being given its upper and lower limits or range of detection (sorry for the science related analogy) ! For #4, I guess this one could be probable, but there is just too much evidence pointing to Myul Mang's death. After exploring each of the possibilities, I'm still left thinking that Dong Kyung's one wish will be to cure her cancer.

Anyways, even if Dong Kyung wishes for her brain cancer to be cured, it’s not really a happy ending since Myul Mang still dies. Is there any other way for Dong Kyung to make another wish so that she can save Myul Mang? I think there is and it comes in the form of the “gift” that Dora gave Dong Kyung. In my previous post, I had theorized that the marble may have a larger purpose than just being a symbol of how the fate of the world is Dong Kyung hands. I believe now that the marble’s larger purpose is that it is a type of wish fulfilling stone. Why? Because we know fantasy dramas typically make references to mythology. In this case, the writer of DAYS is probably referencing Hindu mythology.

In Hindu mythology there are 3 main gods:

1) Brahma: The Creator

2) Vishnu: The Preserver

3) Shiva: The Destroyer (Sounds like Myul Mang right? Also, the love story between Shiva and Parvati is somewhat similar to that of Myul Mang and Dong Kyung’s love story.)

Dora is the equivalent to the god Vishnu in Hindu mythology. Vishnu is often depicted wearing a “Cintamani”, a type of wish fulling stone analogous to the Philosopher’s Stone (hint hint…transforms something from one form into another…immortal -> human) in Western mythology. Given this, the marble/Cintamani in Dong Kyung's possession could be the key to Myul Mang’s rebirth.

Some might ask, “Well why can’t Dora just use it to wish for her son to be reborn as a human?”. Well, remember that both Dora and Myul Mang are slaves to the wishes of humans. They themselves cannot fulfil their own wishes or desires. Meaning, even though Dora and Myul Mang can wish for something to happen, they cannot carry it out unless humans wish it too. Also, as I mentioned previously, deities in kdramas never just give humans gift because they’re being nice. Rather, they give gifts to humans so that humans can help them accomplish their overall goals/wishes.

So putting it all together, do you see where I’m going with this? Dora has the same wish as Dong Kyung which is for Myul Mang to live, but Dora is unable to execute her goals/wishes unless Dong Kyung wishes it too. Dora knows that Dong Kyung will probably use her one wish to cure her brain cancer. At the same time, this leaves her son, Myul Mang, to die. Therefore, Dora gives Dong Kyung the wish fulfilling marble with the intention that Dong Kyung will use it to wish for her son, Myul Mang, to be reborn as a human. With Dora/Dong Kyung’s wish, Myul Mang will be free from his cursed life as an immortal and be reborn to be able to live happily with Dong Kyung.

Side note, the rebirth of Myul Mang into a human can either be dependent on Myul Mang's personal growth or it can be dependent on this wish fulfilling stone or both! I'm leaning more towards his personal growth as being the catalyst for his rebirth, but who knows! It very well could be that the marble has a role to play in his rebirth.

Is Dong Kyung Going To Be An Immortal?

No…no…and NO!!

Some might ask why don’t I think this? Well, for a bunch of reasons. I’ll admit I used to think that it would be very romantic for a human to become immortal so that they can be with their immortal lover forever. However, the more I thought about it, I came to the realization the notion of forever is not romantic nor beautiful. At its core, the concept of eternity is quite terrifying and ugly. And if you haven’t realized already, the writer of DAYS has been making multiple arguments against immortality. For anything to have meaning, it must have an end. In this sense, the end is beautiful.

To get my point across, I want you to try and think about some things. What keeps life meaningful? Experiences? People? Well, imagine doing something you love for a year. Now imagine doing it for trillions or zillions of years. Experiences no matter how good they are at first will eventually become tedious if you do it for long enough. For example, eating your favorite dish may be good for a while, but not for zillions of years. At one point or another, you ultimately lose your desire to want to eat it or eat entirely for that matter.

Now surely getting to know people and loving them can keep your life meaningful right? Well, how many times do you think you could handle knowing and loving people who eventually disappear? Eventually, you grow tired of crying and mourning over dead loved ones that you become numb. Now imagine being Dong Kyung. She would have to witness her family, their family, and so forth dying over and over again for all of eternity. Doesn’t that seem tortuous? Sure, one could argue that at least she has Myul Mang with her, but do you really think her love for him could sustain her forever? The relationship between Myul Mang and his mother, Dora, is a prime example of how a loving relationship could turn sour over a great deal of time. The gift of immorality Dora bestowed on Myul Mang became a curse instead of a blessing. So why would Myul Mang want to give Dong Kyung something that was basically a curse for him? As for Dora, she probably wouldn’t want to give Dong Kyung the same gift after seeing what it did to her son.

If you continue to think that Dong Kyung will become an immortal being, did you really smell what the writer of DAYS was cooking or did you just smell what you were cooking?

The Bad Case of the Riddles

From what I have been reading on multiple platforms now, it would seem that a lot of people are rather confused about a lot of things. It’s understandable! Throughout the show, the writer has presented some complex philosophical concepts that may be difficult for some viewers to grasp. To further add to the confusion, the characters at times do speak in what appears to be riddles. This I believe may be one of the major flaws of the writer. She has to consider that her audience are probably people who have never read any philosophical works before. Most viewers aren’t here to decipher cryptic messages or see how they’re connected to some major philosophical concepts such as eternal recurrence, existentialism, nihilism, amor fati, etc. Most are here to shut off their tired brain and enjoy some good fantasy romance! I know I’m totally one of those people!

Needless to say, I did find myself in a debate of whether I should discuss some philosophical concepts referenced in the show as to help you all gain a better sense of understanding. However, I concluded that it would take too much of my time to do so. Additionally, despite my best efforts to use the simplest of words, I found that whatever I had already written may have still been confusing to the everyday reader. Anyways, if there are any particular scenes or dialogue you all want to me go over, please feel free to use the ask button and I’ll do my best to try and answer them!

Whats Going to Happen Next?

Probably more filler type stuff aka more bs. It's common in kdramas for characters to go back and forth on their initial decision of whatever. Dong Kyung is going to break up with Myul Mang because she loves him and doesn't want him to die. And before the breakup, she's going to give him some good memories to remember her by. Following this, she's going to try and love herself so that she's the one that ends up dying and her wish is going to be for everyone to forget her? Okay......Zzzzzzz!! Idk... Dora is probably going to intervene somehow to get Dong Kyung and Myul Mang back together again.

Other Random Thoughts

What I think would be interesting to learn about is the connection between Dong Kyung's parents death and Dora past self's death. It wasn't just all a coincidence that they both died on the same day. Who knows... maybe Dong Kyung was meant to be in the car that day with her parents, but Dora's past self sacrificed herself to change Dong Kyung's fate.

Also, I still don't think Dong Kyung is going to die, I mean you got her brother praying to the deities that she lives!

Okay, I'm done. I wrote this in Microsoft Word and it was 5 pages long. My brain is dead. There's probably something I should've gone over or elaborated more about, but oh well. Thanks for reading this disjointed post!

#doom at your service #doomatyourservice #myulmang #myul mang #tak dong kyung #takdongkyung #park bo young #parkboyoung #seo in guk #seoinguk #pinocchio #DAYS #theories #my brain is melting

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firethekitty · 3 years ago

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hi!! so they never could quite get the portal to amphibia open enough to travel between, even with a Lot of power, without using the calamity box's power

so I think the logic there is that try as they might, technology vastly needs to improve before they can figure out stable cross-dimensional travel, bc like there's no guarantee they can make a 2-way portal?

plus, the girls need to live their lives apart from, and due to their time in amphibia, to figure out who they are, and their place in their world without magic powers and destiny

hey!!! so it was brought to my attention that anne lost all of her powers when the gems broke, which i genuinely didn’t know but maybe that’s bc i just couldn’t see the screen through my tears :(

not being able to make a portal with earth technology alone is definitely a valid and understandable reason why they can’t make it back. but it’s still nagging at me that the box and the gems like. existed in the first place? i said this before, but i think the writers made the ending too complicated for their own good. anne meeting god, seeing that there are objectively multiple universes, anne just flat out turning down Literally Becoming God. it’s like. bro. just ask for another one. You Met God bro you should’ve just asked for more gems or something!!! idk!!!!!

if they left that part as vague as possible i would (begrudgingly) accept a permanent cut between earth and amphibia. i get the whole message being loss and change, but if it doesn’t make a ton of sense in your story then it just feels kinda forced you know? change is universal and constant and close relationships sometimes end but it’s not always the end-all-be-all. it just reminds me of the how to train your dragon 3 ending, where the writers purposefully made things as heart-wrenching as possible when they didn’t really. have to.

a good comparison i’ve been making is gravity falls. the summer ended and the twins went back to school. that is an inevitable change that mabel tried to keep the same and it didn’t work!she didn’t want change so she tried to stop it and despite it all they still ended up going back home. but that makes sense because there were no godlike powers involved with them, at the end of the day it’s just 2 kids going back to school when summer ends. and the “see you next summer” note, while incredibly bittersweet, is all i needed to see. i sobbed my goddamn eyes out but i was satisfied! i know these shows are different but i can’t help but compare them as they have the same message of “things change and you can’t do anything about it.”

i think it’s also just personal. i’m autistic and i absolutely Despise change. despite my qualms with it, the ending was extraordinarily mature and kids of course need to realize that not everything can be perfect all the time. you might not talk to a dear friend anymore, but that doesn’t mean you don’t still love them with every fiber of your being. that’s a beautiful message for sure

but even without a physical portal i’m still a firm believer that the phone should’ve come into play!! why would she give her phone to sprig otherwise? if she wanted to give him a personal keepsake, i can think of a ton of other things she could’ve given him. that is anne’s only physical tie to amphibia and i think somewhere down the line amphibia could learn to understand and utilize radio and reception so they can at least communicate through that! that’s more of a genuine, less personal problem i have with the narrative. like this is a world that has a giant robot army, magic is just an objective fact, but they can’t understand Phone. uh ok..

i think i would’ve been totally satisfied if they just ended with a little hint that the phones could work inter-dimensionally. in fact i wrote a fic about it already LOL. it’s a show about talking frogs, i just don’t think it’s imperative that it’s as realistic as possible

OK i think i’m actually done complaining about this for now 😳 thank you for helping me get my thoughts out!

#this is so long lmao sorry #ask #talking #amphibia #amphibia spoilers #mus-rattus-angelique #long post

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kentokunn · 4 years ago

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false accusations; (erwin smith x reader)

chapter one; gambler (3k words)

SUMMARY: Erwin Smith has always been a gambler. His decisions have always had promising outcomes. However, when one of his gambles ends with you in the custody of the Military Police accused of perjury, he is forced to come up with a scheme that will have only one solid outcome, the one which he needs to happen for thee wiring your safety.

His plan- to any other bystander -looks to be another one of his unpredictable gambles, but his long time friend Nile Dok knows Erwin's smile all too well to know that he had predicted every single consequence and what the outcome would be to the bitter end. The military Commander had proved to be far too clever for his own good on multiple fronts.

[canon divergence; season 2]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is my first time writing for Erwin that isn’t a headcanon. It’s also my first time writing a chapter story in months. I’ve had crazy writers fatigue so I had to take some breaks, but the idea for this story made me excited to write again! This chapter may seem like it drags on and is kind of dialogue heavy (at least I think it is), but it’s mainly just an introduction chapter to prepare for the actual story. So far, what I have planned out is 10 chapters and a prologue but it might change in the future. I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave feedback or constructive criticism!

It was the afternoon before the Scout Regiment was to make their way to the capital within Wall Sina. The Commander stood at the head of the oak wood table in front of a map of Stohess that covered the length of the table. The map was covered in short nails and strings with red, green, and black dots, made with ink, marked along certain points. Erwin was hunched forward a little, pointing to one exact spot on the map and revising over the plan that he and the young recruit, Armin Arlelt, had come up with to capture the Female Titan.

Tapping his finger on the map, Erwin looked up at the four sitting along the sides of the table. "Here. This is where Armin, Eren, and Mikasa will be leading Annie Leonhart for the capture squad to trap her." After a brief moment of silence, an invite for somebody to speak up, he continued. "While I am likely being detained by the Military Police, Levi and Hanji will be planted in Stohess already to engage should anything get out of hand," directed Erwin, who looked at the two in question for confirmation. He was satisfied once both nodded.

"Good. Now, Miche will be supervising a group of recruits in an isolated base located in Wall Rose. We can assume that there are more titans similar to Annie and that they could be conspiring together, Armin suggested this would be a good way to avoid interference from others," Erwin explained, lowering himself into his seat. "This plan has already been told to Mikasa and Eren but I'd like you four to talk with them at dinner to confirm that they're prepared. Everyone is dismissed."

Miche and Levi, who both sat across from you and Hanji- who was on your right -stood and saluted the Commander, Levi sharing a few words with Erwin, before they left the office. Hanji took a moment to gather the map they had brought for the demonstration and said a quick goodbye to both you and the Commander before exiting as well.

You remained seated, brows furrowed slightly in confusion. "Sir?" you asked, as he stood and made his way towards his work desk a few feet away. It was sitting by a window that stretched a large part of the back wall, overlooking the training grounds. The desk was filled with papers and had a few ink stains that must have been only a day old since the desk looks to have been cleaned fairly recently.

"Yes, Squad Leader?" Erwin questioned mentioning your name after your assigned title, raising a brow as he looked up to you from the letter he had grabbed before taking a seat.

You sat, silent for a moment in confusion. "Commander, what would you like me to do tomorrow?" you asked, standing and pushing in your chair, walking closer to his desk so that you stood in front of it.

Erwin placed the letter down at his desk, giving you his full attention as he folded his hands on the desk. "You'll join me to the capital. I'm expecting to be arrested by the Military Police once they find out about this plan so I'll need you by my side. Once the situation is explained I'm sure we'll be let go and allowed to join the others, but until then I'll need you to be with me in case a tricky situation arises," Erwin explained. "I was going to mention this later in the night since I'm still questioning whether it would be better for you to be with Miche, but for now the plan is for you to accompany me tomorrow. Understood?"

You fixed your posture into a salute and nodded. "Yes sir!" you exclaimed. Erwin offered a tight smile in response and dismissed you, returning to his paperwork.

Walking out of the office and shutting the door behind you, you made your way to your room. It was at the opposite end of the hall along with Captain Levi's- who had a slightly larger room than you -Hanji's, and Miche's. This floor was reserved for Squad Leaders, the Captain, and the Commander.

Your room was a decent size, comfortable for one person. It had a bed, bookshelf, desk, and lounge chair that fit comfortably within the room without feeling like it was cluttered. The bathroom and closet doors were beside each other on the left wall, both providing enough space for what they were required for. Your room had two windows on either side of the bed and two gaslights hung just barely above them.

All in all, the room was perfect for somebody who didn't spend much time in it. With most days either on the training grounds with your squad, in town gathering supplies, or on expeditions not much time was spent here. However, now was the perfect opportunity for you to take an hour or so to relax in bed before dinner time.

Grabbing your matches, notebook, and calligraphy pen off the desk you made your way to the right side of your bed, striking the match and igniting the gaslight. You walked over to the left side to do the same before blowing out the match and tossing it into the empty glass on your bedside table that was once filled with water.

Sitting up in your bed you grabbed the notebook and pen you had placed beside you. Using the ink container on the bedside table to dip your pen in you began to rewrite the plans explained earlier by the Commander. This was something you did often to keep everything you needed to know fresh in your mind so that should any mistake happen you could readjust a situation to fall along the original path intended.

This habit had come in handy many times throughout your years as a Squad Leader and has saved many misfortunes from happening. Your quick thinking and leadership in tough situations were often praised by young recruits and even your fellow veterans alike.

While writing your last few sentences the bell atop the headquarters had rung, signaling that the clock had struck six o'clock and that it was now dinner time. Lying the notebook open on your bed to dry and closing the ink container, you stood up and made your way to the mess hall once you put on your boots.

Hanji had left their room at the same time you had, calling out your name and walking up to you to join you on your walk downstairs. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" Hanji asked, pushing the door that leads to the steps downstairs open for you both.

"I am. In fact, I'm currently writing everything down in my notebook," you informed, quietly thanking them for the door.

Hanji clapped their hands together once, the sound echoing in the stairwell. "Great! That may very well come in handy tomorrow, especially since the plan is set to take place inside Wall Sina," Hanji said, opening the door to the mess hall once more.

You hummed, bowing your head down slightly as another thanks. "Yes, that's a little worrisome, but I trust Erwin and his plan so really, I'm more anxious for tomorrow to come than I am worried about it going wrong," you replied.

"I feel the same!" they exclaimed, taking a seat once you both reached your usual table. Levi was already sitting with his tray of food while Miche was grabbing both yours and his. Levi had already grabbed Hanji's tray for them.

You smiled at Miche when he returned, setting the tray he got for you down. You gave a small thank you and properly sat down so that you were across from Levi. The meal was relatively silent between you four while the others in the mess hall were rather rowdy as always. Miche was the one to break the silence.

"We should ask Eren, Mikasa, and Armin to join us quickly to confirm the plan with them like Erwin asked," he suggested, setting his fork down on his empty plate.

You nodded in agreement, "yes, we should. I'll go gather the three of them quickly." With that, you stood from your seat and walked over to the table where Eren, Mikasa, and Armin sat. "You three," you pointed to them, "follow me." You gesture with your finger to follow the order, leading them to the table. Usually, you'd have been more polite in requesting them to follow your orders, however with how few people knew of the plan and you didn't want to arouse suspicions and questions you were required to be more firm.

Once you led them to the table Levi instructed them to each take a seat, to which they took across from you- where you now sat beside Levi. "Commander Erwin requested that the four of us went over the plan with you three to ensure you guys know what needs to be done tomorrow. Are there any questions?"

Eren looked to be holding something in while Armin and Mikasa remained silent and shook their heads. You frowned at noticing Eren's inner conflict. "Jaeger, what is it?" you asked.

The brown-haired boy looked up at you, eyes wide for a moment before he sighed. "Are we really sure that Annie is the Female Titan?" he questioned. "Look, I know how smart Armin is and I'm not saying that his suspicions are wrong, but well... what if they are?"

Mikasa was quick to elbow him, her face as blank as ever, but a sound of disappointment left her lips. "Come on Eren, you know that all the signs point to Annie. You will see the truth tomorrow, accept it." That was the harsh truth. A young girl that the cadets had grown up with was a traitor.

Eren shook his head quickly, clearing his thoughts. "Yeah yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. I'll be prepared tomorrow, no matter what. We'll catch her, I promise!" Eren vowed, growing more enthusiastic with each word.

"You better be," was Levi's reply. "We need you three in order to get Annie to where we need her to be, so please, don't fuck this up."

You frowned, flicking Levi's shoulder. "They're children! Stop putting so much pressure on them!" you scolded, turning your head towards the cadets. "Just do your best, Hanji, Levi, and the others will be there as a backup just in case," you assured, alleviating some of the worries you saw in Eren's and Armin's eyes.

Once the three of them nodded you allowed them to stay with you for the remainder of dinner until the bell rang, signaling it was time to make their way to their rooms. You and the others remained still in the mess hall, however. Nanaba, Moblit, and a few other Survey Corps veterans joined you at the table.

It was common for you all to share a bottle of beer each before a serious plan. Not enough to get even close to drunk, but enough to mask some of the stress if even for a few hours. So, as Miche and Moblit returned back to the table with the bottles of beer, everyone cheered and took a swig from their bottles, settling into a small conversation.

The conversations went from one topic to the other, even a few stories shared amongst one another until the doors were heard creaking open. Everyone's head turned, assuming it was a cadet that'd have to be ordered to return to their room immediately, but everyone was surprised when they saw the Commander.

It wasn't often Erwin came down to the mess hall for dinner, typically getting his meals sent to his office so that he would be able to continue his work, but occasionally he'd make his way down to get his meal himself. He hadn't yet noticed everyone, since he was at the complete opposite end of the large room, but a quick glance around and his eyes had landed on your table.

He made careful steps towards you all, his eyes roaming each and every one of you, and then the bottles you all possessed- some empty, some nearly there, some barely dipped at. "Everyone," he greeted, dipping his head just a centimeter as a sign of respect.

"Commander," was everyone's reply, followed by the same action. You and Levi moved closer to the end of the bench you both were sitting at as an invitation for Erwin to sit, which he gladly accepted.

"A beer sir?" Nanaba asked, offering to grab him one from the kitchen.

"Please," was Erwin's answer. As Nanaba made their way to grab a beer for the Commander, he took the opportunity to ask a question. "Stressful night?" His lips formed a slight smile, almost like a knowing grin.

Levi scoffed, drinking what little was left in his bottle before placing it down on the table with a little less force than a slam. "You know damn well it is Eyebrows," he said.

You rolled your eyes, "Oh please, not this again!" you groaned. "Does it ever get tiring of using the same old stupid nickname? Honestly, be more creative!" you told Levi, causing Hanji to let out a surprised laugh beside you, nearly spilling the beer from their mouth and covering it with a napkin.

Levi was about to retort, pointing his finger at you when Erwin interfered, reaching his hand across the table to gran the beer Nanaba offered him. "Thanks," he said before looking at you both. "Now you two, is there ever a day you both get along?"

"Hey! We get along just fine," you defended, looking surprised when everyone laughed. "Oh come on! We just have a sort of sibling relationship, fuck off," you said, feigning anger when you grabbed your drink and took a sip.

Conversations once again picked up, this time with Erwin participating this time round. It was a nice relaxer before a day like tomorrow, and it was nice for you to see the Commander so at ease. Everyone knew how much he overworked himself, but all attempts to remove himself from his desk were rendered fruitless when he was so focused on his work. It was only at times like these did he allow himself to take time for himself, and times like these also helped everyone else.

Seeing their Commander with a slight smile and loose shoulders, enjoying himself, was a relieving sight for all soldiers. It could even be a sign of hope for some of them, much like yourself. With little driving you forward, other than the freedom of humanity, it was difficult to find reason in why you fight. It was not uncommon for you to question your goal when it seemed unattainable at times, but when the leader of it all seems to have the hope and the drive for it, it gave you the motivation to do the same.

But unfortunately, like most things, all good things come to an end and it was time for everyone to rest up for what tomorrow would bring. Clean-up and 'good nights' were done quickly, everyone departing towards their rooms, all but Erwin who stayed seated. He allowed you to take a few steps forward before calling out your name.

"I've decided on a definitive plan for you tomorrow," he started, standing up and making his way towards you. He tossed out his beer in the trash near you. "I'll need you with me. Miche can handle the cadets by himself, and should he need help Nanaba is going with him. I don't yet know what tomorrow is going to bring, and you're one of our best when it comes to easing a tricky situation. We need you on the front lines, so you'll come with me."

His tone gave no room for questions, Erwin's plan was settled and nothing would change. Still, you replied with an, "understood sir," before making your way to your room again. You paused when you reached the door, and without turning around, said, "good night Erwin."

"Good night," he responded, a hint of a smile in his voice. Allowing the doors to shut behind you, you walked up the stairs and into your room, deciding to take a quick, cool shower. The cool, almost warm, water helped to clear your thoughts so you only focused on the temperature of the water. It wasn't your usual or go to temperature, but on nights like this, it was a good way to get your mind off things without writing yourself to death.

Once out of the shower, you dried yourself, brushed your death, and did your usual nightly arrangements before walking towards the bed. You took a few minutes to think to yourself, like you did most nights, and allowed for yourself to soak in the silence. Zoning in on one particular spot in the ceiling, you thought about tomorrow.

Everything about this plan Erwin had come up with was a gamble. It relied on the soldiers there to capture Annie without trouble, but there would be no idea what would happen. Stohess was in the center of civilization, in Wall Sina, and the fear of Annie transforming into a titan within that wall was frightening to you.

You had good reason to be frightened too, with what the results of this plan, this gamble, could mean for you and for many. However, while many feared for the lives of their family and themselves, you feared the truth that may arise, because although discovery could be a great thing, change was often terrifying in a world ruled by titans.

But, Erwin had trust in himself and his soldiers. He believed that sacrificing lives for change was necessary in war, much like many leaders before him would agree. Death was a result of war, and Erwin risked people's lives. However, he was a gambler after all.

And he would regret that by the time the sun set tomorrow night.

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luvteez · 5 years ago

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bassists do it deeper

pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k

note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will

A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)

That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.

You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.

“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”

“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”

“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”

“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”

Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.

“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”

The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”

You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)

The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”

You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.

“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.

“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”

“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.

“Talent. Believe it or not.”

“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.

Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”

“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.

“Listen up, you piec—“

“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.

“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.

“I’m not that short—!”

“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”

World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.

“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.

Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”

A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.

“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.

Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”

And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.

“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.

Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.

When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.

That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.

But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.

As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:

Yunho is good.

While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.

He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?

Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.

It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.

You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.

exhibitionism

getting off in public

best crowded places to have sex and get away with it

You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.

When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.

Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.

You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.

This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.

To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.

This is absolutely bonkers. But:

You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.

Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.

Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.

“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.

San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”

“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”

“A cricket? Are you serious?”

“I’m tired, okay!”

“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”

“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”

“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”

In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).

Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.

“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.

“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”

“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”

His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”

There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.

You can’t, but your proof will do the job.

“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”

Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.

Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.

You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to…” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.

“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.

“As long as nobody notices—”

“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”

“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.

“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”

“Just get to it.”

The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”

Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.

“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”

“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”

“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”

That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You could never, sub.”

Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.

Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.

“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.

Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder.

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.

“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.

“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.

“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.

“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”

You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.

Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.

“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.

You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.

“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”

“So you have a size kink.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”

“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.

He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.

“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”

The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.

“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”

“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”

You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.

“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.

If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.

You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:

“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”

“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”

He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.

“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”

You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.

The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.

“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.

“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”

“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.

It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.

“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”

“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”

Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?

“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.

Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.

Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.

“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”

Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.

It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.

As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.

You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”

“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”

He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”

“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.

“He’ll still kill you.”

“I appreciate the concern, honey.”

“Just scram back to practice.”

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.

“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.

Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”

“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”

#blame 5*os for the creation of the band au idea #ateez smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez hard hours #atz smut #luvsmut #the ending is rushed oopsie but i never know how to end smut scenes ahahaha

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plurals-helping-plurals · 3 years ago

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Hoping I can bypass the ask bug I’m having with a submission, this stuff should really be an ask. Well, multiple asks. We have a few issues, and quite frankly, our therapist is insufficient in answering them. I’m hoping for advice, or guidance to advice, or sources of advice, or… whatever really. We’ve asked the therapist some of these questions already; others we suspect they won’t be able to handle. I’ll mark which is which. Issue to address 1: We are struggling to handle that we all have different ambitions? Like, two of us want to be different types of engineer, I want to be a writer, another one of us wants to be an artist… We’ve asked the therapist about this and they basically said “Who has the best plan?” Issue to address 2: One of our alters has been manipulating another for… a while. I’m left wondering what to do, as are our 2 helpers; there’s no way that’s a healthy relationship. The manipulator acknowledges this; the manipulated denies this. We have not asked our therapist about this.

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(above submitted by @niavirrivain )

Hey there! I hope the formatting of this post won’t be too strange since it was sent as a submission.

1.) Many people we know (including singlets) have multiple different ambitions. It can be difficult to decide what to pursue, especially because interests and goals are naturally going to change over time.

A good method to approach this is to make a list of questions, and apply them to each potential ambition. For example, say you decide to pursue writing as a career. How many system members agree or disagree with this ambition? How many system members are capable of writing, how many enjoy it?

If you only have one system member out of the whole bunch who enjoys writing, it would be very impractical to pursue it as your collective full time career. If that member were to stop fronting as often or lose interest in writing, suddenly y’all can’t put bread on the table. Same goes for any other profession.

The most practical advice I can give is to find something with which several of you enjoy, or at least are capable of learning and doing. Perhaps if you were to do freelance and contract work, you could pursue multiple job types simultaneously or rotate out what you do. That may exclude some jobs like engineering, which typically require a degree or certificate and full time dedication. But there’s a lot of possibilities! Maybe you could attend vocational school, and then write / do other art on the side.

Compromise is the name of the game when it comes to living as a system. Nearly everyone, system or not, has to compromise in some ways on their ambition or career goals. That’s just a natural part of it, and I think you’ll come to find that finding middle ground will make whatever career path y’all choose a lot more comfortable for everyone.

2.) It’s difficult to give advice here without knowing more specifics. If the manipulator acknowledges what they are doing, I suppose the best next question is why. Considering they’re both helpers, it seems logical to guess that the manipulator believes they’re doing what’s best either for the person they’re manipulating or the system in general.

The most important thing is to get to the root of the problem. Find out why they’re doing it and a way to solve that problem without using manipulation. It should be your priority to support the person being manipulated, of course, but it’s unlikely to stop unless you find out what’s causing the manipulator to behave that way.

- Mal’akhi | Mod Xenodelic

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ashxketchum · 3 years ago

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Writer’s Month - 2

Wow, not me writing something for two days in a row? This one is a stand-alone oneshot for now, but I think there is a lot of potential for a sequel, I even have some part of it clearly planned out so if time allows me to sit down with my laptop sooner than later, I’ll work on that!

Fandom/Pairing: Digimon/Mimato (friendship, yes I am capable of writing something other than romance between these two hahahaaa)

Prompt: Coffee shop setting, cold (Yamato is very cold here, it’s actually kinda angsty)

Setting: Post Tri but pre Kizuna. Yamato is in his first year of college and Mimi is in her last year of high school. The basis for this fic is solely the dialogue in To Sora, I wanted to explore the idea of Mimi and Yamato growing closer and having important conversations with each other, but it had to have a rocky start and this is that rocky start!

“I’ll have a venti matcha berry frappe, nonfat, refrigerated chilled milk, absolutely no ice, extra whipped cream, which, make sure, is layered perfectly, with three pumps of caramel syrup and two of vanilla.”

He could feel his manager’s eyes boring into his back, so Yamato did what any other good employee in his place would, he kept a straight face and diligently noted down the customer’s request before moving on to ringing it up without once bothering to look at the girl standing behind the counter or ask for her name. He wondered if his manager would find it strange, that he hadn’t taken the customer’s name, but seeing as Yamato was already putting all his effort into concentrating well on his job and not explode on the brunette who seemed to take some pleasure out of his misery, he decided that he was allowed this one slip and he’d deal with his manager later, since the bigger problem was in front of him, eyeing him with a teasing glint in her caramel eyes as he picked up the paper cup and moved over to the work station to begin working on her order. He did however, kept a track of what his manager was doing from the corner of his eye, and the minute the older man was out of sight, Yamato breathed a sigh of relief and spun on his feet.

“Please Mimi, by all means, go ahead and make my job more difficult.” Yamato seethed, managing to keep his voice low so as to not attract any attention to them.

“Well, if you’re going to ask that nicely.” Mimi smirked, as always she had the upper hand in the conversation due to the safety guaranteed by being a customer at the shop.

“Just take the drink and go, let me work in peace.” Yamato attempted to maintain a superior tone as he begged her to leave, turning again to add the finishing touches to her order as quickly as he could, before his superior caught whiff of his not so welcoming attitude towards their customers.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Mimi beamed at him, as she accepted the finished product from his hand, her fingers brushed against his for a brief moment, suddenly making Yamato hyper aware of the spot at the back of his hand.

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Entrance exams to worry about?” He asked exasperatedly, she seemed too carefree for someone who was in the last year of their high school, remembering his own experience of it from the previous year.

Mimi scoffed in reply, waving a hand in the air to brush aside his concern for her education, instead of turning to make her way out of the store now that she had received her order, she settled on the empty bar stool on the other side of the pick-up counter, resting one elbow on the counter top as she took careful sips of her drink from the other hand. He watched her like a hawk, Yamato wouldn’t put it past the brunette to make fake claims about the taste of the drink just to get him into trouble.

This had been going on for a few months now, every time he had a shift during her after school hours, Mimi would make it her life’s purpose to show up and annoy him to no extent. He’d attempted to explain to her, that he really needed to keep this job to maintain his life expenses, but apparently the pleasure she took from watching him stumble around while making coffee seemed to take precedent over his livelihood.

Of course, Mimi wasn’t the only one to blame here, if only his roommate at the college dorm wasn’t a bigger pain in the ass, Yamato would never had have to take up this part-time job in the first place. When he had complained to his father about not being able to get along well with his roomie, instead of agreeing to raise his monthly allowance so that Yamato could move out and rent a place of his own, his father had promptly told him that as an adult, he should learn to solve his own problems from now on. Yamato had half a mind to remind his father that him and his friends had not only solved the Digital World’s problems on multiple occasions, but also saved their own world by doing so, but he had stayed quiet and accepted his fate. On Takeru’s recommendation he had taken up a part-time job at this popular coffee joint, the pay was decent and the hours weren’t too bad and well Yamato always had had a knack for being good in the kitchen, so it had been suiting his purposes of saving up to move out of the college dorm as soon as possible just well.

Until Mimi happened to walk in one day and decided to take matters into her own hands.

She had been surprised to see him behind the counter, and at first she had just been curious, about what he was doing here or what he had been up to since the graduation ceremony. Yamato had to admit, that ever since he had graduated high school, he’d finally understood what Jou had been struggling with for the longest time, it wasn’t easy to maintain friendships when one was thrust with the responsibility of taking care of every single aspect of their lives and somehow pursue studies on which one’s future life depended at the same time. He considered himself lucky, if he was able to have a phone conversation with Takeru that lasted more than 5 minutes in a day. So he hadn’t been wary of Mimi popping up every now and them, updating him about her and Koushiro’s school life, and sometimes Jou’s and Sora’s too. It gave him a way to stay connected with everyone without having to make time for them, and while he did feel guilty about this on multiple occasions, he was grateful for it too.

That was before Mimi got bored with just talking about their lives, and decided to spice up their encounters by getting him to light trouble with his manager. It was usually just silly little things like claiming he got her order wrong or giving extremely complicated and hard to follow requests, and she had never pulled something huge that would seriously get Yamato in trouble, but it was still frustrating and it ruined his mojo for the rest of his shift.

There was also the question of why Mimi had suddenly taken such a liking to spending time with him, of all people, since they had never been close enough for a relationship like this. They’d spent time together before sure, and they’d had their fair share of agreements and disagreements when it came to matters related to the Digital World, but apart from that Yamato could barely remember any interactions with her that didn’t circle back to the Digital World or their Digimon Partners. So the thought always nagged at him, at the back of his head, when she would appear with a skip in her step and fix him with one of the brightest smiles he knew.

But then she would go on to do something diabolical, and he’d be reminded of how similar she was to his little brother, which led to him missing Takeru and left him irritated and wishing for her to leave.

Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Yamato turned his attention towards the brunette sitting in front of him, she had set down the drink on the counter top and was currently surveying the store with her bright eyes, the mischievous glint in them indicating that she was just looking for something that could serve as prop of the day in interfering with his work. Relieved that he had caught her while she was still in her planning phase, Yamato decided to take control of the situation before his manager returned and reprimanded him for being rude to their customers.

“You really don’t have anything better to do?” Yamato began icily, making Mimi turn her gaze towards him, the challenging look on her face seemed to put the last nail to his patience’s coffin as he snapped at her, “Don’t you have any friends?”

He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth, biting his tongue in an attempt to stop himself from groaning outwardly.

The effect on Mimi was immediate, all colour drained from her face and her eyes shone with a blanket of tears just waiting to fall, but with a single blink she managed to keep them at bay and faced him with a hardened look as she replied quietly, “I thought that’s what we were.”

And before Yamato could make any attempts to take back his statements or even begin to apologize for his behaviour, Mimi was out of the door, leaving behind her drink on the counter and without sparing a single glance in his direction.

Yamato allowed himself to groan out loud when he picked up her cup to clear the counter and found that it was still heavy, she had barely begun to drink it. He couldn’t help but chide himself internally, for missing on something that was so obvious, for even deliberating on an answer that was right in front of his eyes this entire time.

Yamato couldn’t believe that he, of all people, had missed out on the signs of their budding friendship, had pushed it aside as nothing but an occasional nuisance within his routine.

His optimistic side hoped that he would just explain himself to her when she’d show up tomorrow, even offer her her favourite drink for free as a token of his apology, but a tiny voice at the back of his head reminded him, that there was no way Mimi would come back to spend time with him after this.

Unfortunately, it was the tiny voice that prevailed in its prediction, as Mimi didn’t show the next day or the one after that, or after that.

At first Yamato consoled himself by devoting himself to the tasks at hand, happy to finally be able concentrate on his work, he managed to win praises from his manager on multiple occasions which pushed Mimi’s absence from his surroundings out of his head, and for a while it worked.

But then there were slow days, when he didn’t have much to do but stand behind the counter and look at all the people sitting around in groups of twos and threes, laughing and chatting loudly as they sipped their coffees and munched on their food. The sight would tug on an invisible string in his heart, make him long for Mimi’s teasing smile as she rattled off with an order comprising of the most incompatible ingredients, laughing loudly at the look of horror that would take over his face as he wrote down her instructions. There were days when the shop would be eerily silent, and he’d hear her voice in his head, telling him about something that had happened at school. There were days when someone would walk by with a pet, cuddling it and showering it with affection, making him miss Gabumon’s soft fur and he’d instinctively turn towards the pick-up counter, hoping to tell Mimi about it but was met with emptiness instead.

He hadn’t realised, just how much he had managed to share with her during their encounters, and how he had begun to depend on her company to get him through his mundane work life. And in true Yamato fashion, he had gone ahead and messed it all up by thinking about things from only his perspective.

His father’s words echoed in his mind once again, he had to learn to solve his own problems, and what better time to start than now?

#writersmonth2021 #mimato #digimon fanfiction #yamato ishida #mimi tachikawa #digimon #writealot #unfinished excerpt #I wanna write the apology scene for sure #coming up with Mimi's frappe order was hella fun tho #otp : purely friendly

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xenoblademisadventures · 4 years ago

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I’ve been thinking about how Xenoblade 2′s character writing and why it doesn’t work. It's not uncommon in animes, especially ones with large casts, to make characters with a handful of really loud and obvious character traits and then have one extra character trait that the viewer can only learn about by spending extra time with them. For the sake of convenience, I'm going to call these "surface traits" and "hidden traits." To use Nia as an example, her surface traits would be that she's a snarky and sarcastic cat girl who is slow to warm up to the party while her hidden trait would be her fear of persecution over powers that she didn't ask for. Every major character in Xenoblade 2 does this.

This type of character writing has a lot of advantages, disadvantages, and requirements to make work effectively. The big advantage of writing characters like this is that they're easy for the audience to follow. This also usually results in characters who are easily identifiable among a large cast because you can list 3 or less surface level character traits and you'll know who's being talked about. When talking about Xenoblade 2, I could talk about a "super powerful hot-head," "talks like a butler," "flirts constantly and is uncool," and you can probably guess which character I'm talking about. This can also be really good for characters that the player isn't supposed to spend a lot of time with but the writers still want to leave an impression. The Rare Blades are good examples of the type of character where writing them like this is a good idea, especially since it's not guarantee that the player will do their sidequests or h2hs after getting access to them. This style of character writing also doesn't prevent writers from making interesting or complex characters. Pyra and Mythra are actually really good examples of characters that fit this style of character writing but are still super complex. When a story has a lot of these types of characters, they become interesting by having those attributes intersect with and synergize with as many other elements in the work they're a part of as possible.

The reason why Pyra and Mythra are able to be extremely complicated characters that still follow this model of character writing is because the traits that the writers decided to give Pyra and Mythra feed into both the other character, the individual character, the plot, and the gameplay, but also it's possible to trace how the traits of other characters interact with them. Addam is a reluctant hero, normally that's seen as a noble trait in fiction. But in Xenoblade 2, Blades are emotionally reliant on their drivers to such a massive extent that it can shape both how a Blade views themself and how they view the world as a whole. So, Addam being scared of Mythra's power, having only resonated with her out of the necessity to defeat Malos, and often referring to "the Aegis" as "Malos, the guy who sinks continents for fun" all feeds into Mythra seeing herself as something that is dangerous and can only cause harm. This also feeds into the gameplay. Pyra and Mythra are presented as glass canons who deal nice crit. However, building Mythra towards being a dodge tank or giving her a crit heal build can make her really powerful defensively. Pyra's a lot weaker than Mythra because her attack doesn't reach the same levels as Mythra's and she doesn't have a lot of utility outside of dealing damage. This synergizes really nicely with their character arc because, for Pyra, it shows that Mythra really did see herself as only a weapon when she created Pyra, so Pyra, alongside being a lot weaker, is also a lot more limited to that role. While Mythra, while powerful offensively, becomes broken when used defensively. Which mechanically synergizes with her learning that she isn't an evil ball of destruction. They also have the potential to synergize nicely with the majority of the party. Rex doesn't know about the Aegis war gets to know Pyra as Pyra rather than as the Aegis. Azurda was there for the Aegis war and really should have something to say about Mythra blowing up Torna. Nia's character arc also involves her sealing away her powers because of a fear of being judged for them, Dromarch is an emotional support to Nia, Tora is responsible for creating a blade that can rival Mythra in power and Poppi is that Blade (considering how Pyra and Mythra feels about their own power, this could go somewhere), Morag and Brighid both rub the Aegis war in Pyra's and Mythra's face (Morag initially opposes Rex because she believes the Aegis is too dangerous to be left unsupervised and she's scared of the Aegis's power, which is a parallel that could be drawn to Addam's own attitude towards the Aegis, while Brighid was not only there for the Aegis war, she was extremely judgy and one of the people responsible for Mythra turning into Pyra), and Zeke and Pandoria don't really have any immediately obvious connections, which can be nice if Pyra's and Mythra's relationship with every other character is so closely related to the heavy topic that is her hidden trait. Of course, Xenoblade 2 doesn't do anything with most of these potential synergies, so they don't exist in the context of Xenoblade 2. But they are very useable and potentially very powerful in the context of fanfiction, which is why I made that comment. Mythra's already one of the most complex characters in the game and the writers only really did anything with her potential synergies with Pyra, Addam, and maybe Rex (which could have been further explored). In turn, Pyra and Addam are more interesting characters than they would have been had Mythra not been written to be a part of the story. If Xenoblade 2 had taken more advantage of the potential synergies between different members of the cast, the character writing would be a lot better than it is in the game.

A common issue with writing characters like this is that they can easily feel one-dimensional or tropey. These types of characters work best if you imagine any individual character as a puzzle piece rather than a whole thing to be viewed in isolation. Going back to the example of Pyra and Mythra, if you were to write Pyra without having Mythra or any of the stuff going on there, she becomes a boringly written character that only really plays into the sexist ideals of what makes a good housewife, with her surface traits being that she's demure, sexually innocent, and good at cooking. So by not making those connections and synergies when writing these characters, they become weak characters. The issue becomes worse when the characters synergize badly with other elements of the work they're a part of. This is an area where Xenoblade 2's big issue of its pieces not fitting well together comes to bite the character writing in the ass.

For example, one of the reasons Rex suffers as a character is because the writers tried to make him a weak child character who barely scrapes by most of his encounters, but this does not work well with Xenoblade 2's cathartic combat system. Xenoblade 2's combat system does a lot to make the player feel awesome. It has the flashiest attacks in the series so far, it has some narrator going "excellent" "awesome" "amazing," and it emphasizes the player juggling a lot of simple to execute ideas at once, which makes it extremely satisfying when the player successfully juggles those things and makes big numbers that go brr. This makes Xenoblade 2's combat really unique and fun (easily my favorite moment-to-moment combat in the series). But in relationship to how Rex is written, it's really bad. Gameplay is as much a part of the story of a video game as the writing is, so if the gameplay says "the party is an unstoppable, epic, flashy, and cool and this is a power fantasy where the party can handle anything (that doesn't instantly kill them)" while the story says "the party barely survives the majority of their encounters and the protagonist is way in over his head," then there's going to be a disconnect and players are likely either going to react by believing Rex is terrible protagonist who constantly loses or they'll lean towards believing that the gameplay isn't canon. Neither of these are good results.

The character designs are another aspect of the game that screws over the character writing. For these types of characters, they need to be accompanied by character designs where you can know at a glance what they're all about. This can mean having over the top character designs, but that isn't always the case. If you want some examples, the Fire Emblem series is generally very good at conveying information about its characters through its designs without needing over the top designs. Full Metal Alchemist manages to convey a lot of information about it's characters through their designs even with the majority of them wearing the exact same uniforms. Xenoblade 2 utterly fails at this goal when making its character designs. Pyra's the worst example of this, so I'll use her design to get at what I mean. She's a shy, modest, carries a lot of guilt with her, and is shown multiple times to either be ignorant or disapproving of horniness (mostly shown in H2H's involving Tora). Those are all pretty surface level traits about her, which her character design should convey the most loudly. Alongside that, it's also important that her design connects her to Mythra in some way since their relationship is extremely important to both of their arcs. Because Xenoblade 2 has a mechanical focus on dividing ether in different elements, it's a good idea for Pyra's character design to say "I'm a fire type" in some way. It may also be good to have the design imply that Pyra is a weapon and that she is sealed because that's also relevant to her character arc. Because the Aegis and the Monado are supposed to be connected (but that connection is a massive spoiler), Pyra's design should also have something subtly tying her to Malos and the Monado. Out of those things listed, Pyra's design does convey a connection to Mythra and it does say that she's a fire type. It either doesn't do or does an extremely poor job at conveying everything else. If Pyra is supposed to be demure, why is her design so flashy? If Pyra is going to have multiple lines of dialogue where she explicitly says that she doesn't like horny clothes, why is her design so heavily sexualized? Her flashy design works really well with the flashy gameplay and the sexualized design works well as a waifu collection gacha game, but that comes at the massive expense of the character. The character design and combat animations imply that Pyra is supposed to be cool and sexy, but the character writing says that she is not remotely close to that. If the purpose was to make the character design intentional contradict the character, then a point should be made about that rather than leaving it to the viewer to piece together whatever explanation sounds the smartest to them.

Another way that Xenoblade 2′s characters falter is that their hidden traits often don’t come into play outside of the moment when they’re established. Making anything like that just results in something where there’s a lot going on but it isn’t very interesting. Tora is the worst offender for this, he’s a super-genius, has a strong admiration for Rex because he’s a driver, is overweight, and has a maid fetish. This could easily lead into him having an arc where he has to learn to see Poppi as a real Blade or as a person (and it could synergize nicely with some of the later plot twists about all Blades being artificial lifeforms). It could put an interesting spin on the maid fetish aspect of his character because Poppi is on the receiving end of that most of the time. It could also work nicely with Mythra’s character arc because she has experience being seen for what she is rather than who. It could lead into Poppi having a character arc. Tora could also easily have an arc about learning to believe in himself. Which could work nicely with Rex’s development, or even Pyra or Mythra’s arcs. Instead, Tora gets all of his development in Chapter 4 (which really wasn’t a good time for it because there was a lot that needed to get unpacked with Mythra’s introduction and that gets sidelined a lot quicker than it should have been). And it focuses a lot on how Bana kidnapped his father and forced him to make a bunch of Artificial Blades and also finished Lila. There’s a lot of extra information added about Tora, but the game never draws a connection between Tora’s existing character traits and the new information, nor does it do anything to link those traits. So, a lot of people will see either Tora as a character as “the creepy Nopon with a maid fetish” or “the super-genius who wants to be a real driver.” The deeper stuff about him missing his dad and wanting to honor their memory by finishing a multi-generation long project barely has anything to do with any of his actions outside of this one arc. Alongside that, this hidden trait doesn’t synergize with his surface traits. It’s not that these character traits can’t reasonably coexist, but they also don’t feed into each other very well. And connections absolutely can be made between these traits, but the game opts not to make them.

Azurda is a character who suffers from the game not exploring its characters as much as it should. He is old and he likes to tease Rex but genuinely cares about him. Those are his surface level traits. His hidden traits are that he knows a lot more about the backstory than he lets on and withholds a lot of critical information from the characters because he doesn’t trust Rex to respond rationally with that information. There’s a lot that can be done with that, but the game does nothing. Azurda never expresses any opinion about Rex being Pyra’s driver despite having seen for himself how badly Addam’s partnership with Mythra went. Even if his opinion is that he’s chill with it, that’s something he should have been asked to elaborate on (probably by Pyra?). Instead, he doesn’t serve much of a purpose to anything. Brighid, Poppi, Morag, Dromarch, and Pandoria also suffer from a lack of being properly explored by the writing.

Another issue that Xenoblade 2 has with its character writing is that it turns some of the most important aspects of its characters into late-game plot twists. The advantage of plot twists is that they’re exciting, can carry huge implications for earlier parts of the story that the player can notice upon revisiting it, and can change the trajectory of the story in interesting ways. The problem is that these character plot twists tend to also be at the end of their arcs. The audience doesn’t know about Nia being a Flesh Eater or that she struggles with fear of rejection because of how people have reacted to her being a Flesh Eater until that conflict has already been resolved. We don’t learn about Pyra and Mythra being suicidal until a minute before it’s resolved. That’s a problem because all of the potentially interesting character stuff happens off-screen, which means the player doesn’t get to see it (unless they read fanfictions that specifically address these topics). I already talked about Pyra and Mythra, so I’m going to talk about Nia. Up until a bit before the Flesh Eater reveal, she largely plays straight-man to everyone else’s bullshit and makes a few funny snarky comments. Her role in the party comedically works really well. She is comedic gold and plays especially nicely off of Zeke. However, when it comes to her non-comedic writing, she struggles to be interesting. The first potentially interesting thing we learn about her is that she was allies with Torna (but didn’t know that they kill people? or did she just not think they’d murder a random innocent kid?) The game doesn’t use Nia’s former allegiance to Torna to progress her character, especially in the early game. Nia has been on the run from Indol for years and caused her so much fear that it prevented her from saving Vandham, that should have been a huge deal in the moment, that Nia could have saved him but didn’t. But because Nia being a Flesh Eater isn’t revealed to the audience until much later, the best we get is being able to see her hesitating and clutching her chest and that becoming significant on rewatch. Putting this plot twist so late also means that Nia doesn’t react to Mor Ardain capturing her, Cole openly revealing himself to be a flesh eater, Fan’s powers (in Chp. 4), or her having to exist in Indol nearly as much as she should have. It also makes her join Azurda in the ranks of having known critical plot information but chose not to share it party. The flesh eater reveal happens at an awkward time. Players will either realize early in Chapter 6 or in Chapter 7, depending on whether they caught on during the Niall revive scene. Either the plot twist comes out of nowhere and proceeds to not get addressed or receive any context until midway through Chapter 7 or it comes at a time when the viewer should be concerned about Pyra and Mythra and draws a bunch of attention away from that. Either way, Nia being a flesh eater only manifests in the story as an OP power-up after the reveal. This comes at the expense of certain scenes. For example, Nia soloing Malos visually looks really cool, but because the writing never puts any time on Nia’s relationship with Torna or how that impacted her views of herself as a Flesh Eater, there isn’t any emotional pay-off to this encounter. Her revealing herself as a flesh eater also falls into the same category. The scene is mostly known for “I love you and all you guys!” If the game revealed to the audience that Nia was a flesh eater and spent most of her life having to hide that fact or else be forced to go on the run or get taken advantage of for it, then her character development wouldn’t have to be all cramped into Chapter 7 and her two major scenes there could start to have some emotional payoff. Revealing her status as a flesh eater to the audience early on would also allow for Nia’s arc to compliment Pyra’s and Mythra’s. It could even allow Dromarch to have moments (since a lot of his character is based around him being a support for Nia). Unfortunately, the most interesting aspect of Nia’s character doesn’t get explored, doesn’t show up until really late in the game (late considering that she’s the second party member), and it gets crammed into a spot where the story should have been focusing on Rex and his ability to function without Pyra and Mythra’s help.

Overall, the character writing in Xenoblade 2 is rather weak because while the characters do function well as comedic units, they try and fail to do anything deeper than that. Either the characters needed to have their deeper or more complicated features way more fleshed out (and also synergize better with other aspects of the game, such as the character designs and combat) or Xenoblade 2 should have backed off from its heavier themes and stuck to being a comedy.

#this is more focused on how the character writing handles the games drama and heavier moments rather than how it handles its comedy #because the characters are generally pretty well suited for comedy and play off each other nicely in that regard #xenoblade chronicles 2 #xenoblade 2 spoilers #xenoblade analysis #pyra #mythra #nia #tora #rex #xenoblade spoilers

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