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alleiradayne · 2 years

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A Touch of Evil | Art Master Post

A Destiel Series Sequel to Innuendo

When Dean and Castiel are left to clean up a mess in the archives, they accidentally release an incubus from his 1000 year imprisonment. To regain his power, the incubus takes up residence within Dean and Castiel, influencing their most intimate moments. But they quickly learn that the incubus is draining their lives from them, and if they do not satisfy the demon soon enough, they will die. Do they sate the incubus' lust? Or will they find a way to exorcise him in time?

Chapter 7 - House of Pain Summary: After the incidental discovery of Castiel’s penchant for pain, Dean introduces them to a flogger. Characters/Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester Word Count: 2,275 Song: House of Pain - Van Halen

“Doesn’t look like exorcism research to me.”

Castiel sat still as stone but for his finger scrolling through a website on his laptop. He made no move to hide the screen, no effort to mask its content: cock cages. Castiel stared openly and critically as though examining a specimen under a microscope. A moment later, he appeared shocked to see Dean standing in his bedroom doorway. “Did you say something?”

Dean dropped his bag by the bed. “Do you think the exorcism is going to require a cock cage?”

“No,” Castiel grunted, then slammed the laptop shut. He stood and crossed the room, ran his fingers through his hair, then pulled it out straight from his head. “I can’t help it. Every time I get on a computer, my mind drifts… and by the time I notice, I can’t get a grip. It spirals, and all I can think about is you and your body and your—”

“Whoa, slow down,” Dean interjected. He kicked the door shut, then turned back to Castiel. “Rowena’s spell definitely didn’t work, did it?”

“Unless it somehow dampened Venintus’s ability to drain us, no, I don’t think it did.”

He eyed the bag beside his bed. “There’s one way we could test that theory.”

“Did you—” Castiel strode across the room and grabbed the small bag. Hand plunged inside, he asked, “What did you—” but before he finished the sentence, he withdrew a supple black flogger, its many fine straps and commanding grip screaming to be used. Castiel swallowed a thick gulp as he glanced between it and Dean, then back. “Why flogging?”

Dean shrugged as he slowly closed the space between them. “Because you moaned like a pathetic whore when I slapped your balls. Is that a good enough reason?”

How prettily he blushed. Castiel agreed with a soft, “Yes,” more of a whine than a statement. Even the mere thought of torture seemed to drive Castiel wild with want. His bulge had grown half again as large as a moment ago. And when Dean approached him, chest to chest, breath heaved from him, hot against his lips.

“Would you like me to try it?” Dean asked, then met him for a deep kiss. How long they remained there, he could not be sure. But when Castiel shoved the flogger into his hands and parted from him, he did not care.

“Gentle at first,” Castiel said as he pried at Dean’s belt. “I’m not sure what I can actually handle in this department.”

“We can find out, if you’re okay with that.” Castiel’s pants fell to the floor in a second after Dean unfastened the belt buckle. “And you give me a color or tap. I’ll check in, too.” When he simply nodded, Dean’s heart soared. Half the fun was seeing Castiel’s eyes light up at the suggestion of their newly developed safeword system. He peeled his shirt from Castiel, then gently laid the flogger’s tails over his shoulder. “Alright then, where do we want to do this?”

“Can we… start here?” he said, voice horse with want. “Try it out first?”

Dean motioned in a circle, and Castiel turned about-face. “Take off those shorts, honey.” He did as ordered, underwear discarded and clothes kicked aside. Dean smoothed his ass with the flat of his hand, then squeezed hard, fingernails biting into his meaty flesh. He had to be careful. Such tender muscles, such delicate skin deserved no less. And leather was a cruel mistress, equally comforting and disquieting at once. One measured strike. No more, no less. Keep it together, he thought.

A soft paff broke the silence as the leather strands met Castiel’s ass. He shuddered, and a tiny whimper escaped, but he remained silent and still beyond that. Dean waited, but nothing happened, and when nothing continued to happen, he asked, “Is that—”

“Thighs,” Castiel demanded.

With no roles to play, Dean granted his demand. The strands cast across the backs of Castiel’s thighs in the next heartbeat, a louder smack filling the room. And in its wake sounded a delightful cry, one that Dean desperately needed to hear again. So he struck the left thigh, then the right, two swift strikes, and Castiel’s knees nearly buckled under his songs of pleasure.

“Am I—”

“A little harder,” Castiel demanded. “I know it looks painful. There are welts by now, they take seconds to appear. But I… trust me, Dean. Please.”

Nerves. It had to be. There was no other explanation for the sweat that beaded on Dean’s brow, ran down his temples. And Castiel was, as always, so cool and calm despite the quivering quake in his every breath. As though he always knew exactly what he wanted. He had asked for trust even though he knew damn well that Dean trusted him implicitly.

So then why hesitate?

“Get up on the bed.” As Castiel obeyed, Dean stripped himself of his shirt and pants, relieved by the cool bedroom air. “On your back. Knees up. I don’t think I’m going to be very good at this.”

“Why?”

Dean watched, eyes wide and growing wider as Castiel lay on his back, raised his knees, and spread himself so wide. “Because,” he began as he shed his underwear. “Seeing you go crosseyed as I fuck your ass and whip your balls is gonna empty mine faster than it ought to.”

Castiel’s cock bobbed as he sighed, and a string of precum dangled from the tip. “That sounds perfect to me.”

“That makes one of us,” Dean grumbled, “but if you enjoy it, I will. Obviously…” He paused as he stroked himself, teasing Castiel’s asshole with the tip of his cock. “I already am.”

A string of profanity and vulgar demands dribbled from Castiel’s mouth. Already so delirious. And they’d only just started. Then again, it made sense. No more buffer between his physical body—what was once his vessel—and his soul. He felt everything, every fine detail, every ounce of pressure, every breath, every firing of his nerves, many for the first time. No wonder he writhed beneath him, wriggled with such palpable frustration.

Leather strands danced in rhythm along with Castiel’s sac. Red blossomed across his chest, his face as he gasped, hips rolling, and he grabbed his cock to squeeze. “Why are you teasing me?”

“Because I like watching you squirm,” Dean sighed as he leaned for the lube on the nightstand. “Those slutty little thrusts in your hips? Yeah, I know you want it. Want me to pound your ass, fill you up. But… there’s something about prolonging the inevitable that is so—” He twitched his wrist, flicking the strands against his balls, and Castiel gasped. “Fucking.” Another snap, a sharper contact, and Castiel cried out a lewd moan. “Arousing.” A third flick of his wrist snapped the flogger across Castiel’s sac, red welts left in its wake. In that same feverish moment, Dean rolled his hips, and his slick shaft spread Castiel with ease.

No chorus of angels compared to the song that Castiel sang. Those magnificent eyes burst with the light of a million stars, and his back arched, stroking his cock in his hand. “Yeah, that’s it, Cas,” Dean drawled as he withdrew to thrust again. “Let it all out. I wanna hear how good it feels.”

Though it wasn’t a command, Castiel obeyed, moaning longer and louder cries as Dean set his pace. All the years he had spent wondering, worried, only to end up there in Castiel’s room buried in his ass and flogging his balls. And he was damn good at it. At least he could do that much. At least he could pleasure the man he had grown to know and love over the years. Not to mention all the pleasure he received in giving. The sight of Castiel so aroused—because of me—was more than enough. Like the way Castiel’s ass spread around his thick cock, hugging, squeezing with each rush of arousal. Or the complete lust-induced delirium that rolled Castiel’s eyes, slackened his jaw, and drove his fist to pump his own swollen cock. Or most of all, his tightened sac, crisscrossed with red welts as he continued to draw the flogger across his most sensitive skin.

Add it all up, and it was the dirtiest, sexiest, most perfectly perverted experience. And he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He needed it, needed everything Castiel had in him to give, all his little moans and sharp cries and divine praise. He thrust harder, struck faster, demanding the height of pleasure from them both. He was the rhythm to Castiel’s melody, punctuating his keening song with his hips slapping hard against his ass and snapping the flogger across his welted flesh.

“Tell me, Cas,” he demanded. “I want to hear the words.”

“Please,” Castiel gasped, “keep going. It’s perfect… oh, Dean, I’m so close.”

“That’s it, sweetheart, come for me,” he breathed. “I want to see you drenched in your own cum.”

All the telltale signs of Castiel’s impending release flared, and he pursued that release, that glorious divinity, unrelentingly. Sweat and precum dripped down his sac, his thighs as Castiel’s asshole tightened on his cock. And then the room stilled, quiet for one breath as their moans, heaving sighs, and desperate prayers silenced. Castiel’s fist steadied just beneath the swollen head of his cock, tiny rolls of his wrist encouraging his body, and his body obeyed.

A load of cum streamed from Castiel’s cock and coated his chest, his stomach in his heavenly white fluid. Another hard flex, extracted by a deep thrust and the flogger teasing his groin, sent another load to mingle with the first. When the third font burst from him, Castiel moaned a long, high sigh that emptied his lungs and his sac.

There wasn’t a human on earth that could resist such a shameless display of hedonism. Dean gritted his teeth against the rush, against the wave of destruction crashing over his walls. But his release rode that tidal wave, borne by an unspeakable evil that fueled his lust, his selfish desires. And so he withdrew from Castiel at the last second, discarded the flogger, and grasped his cock. He hardly recognized the growl deep in his chest as his orgasm surged forth, and the first long, white rope landed on Castiel’s cock.

More.

That voice, familiar yet aberrant, echoed through his head, and Dean obeyed. His second load streamed over Castiel’s balls and ran in tiny rivulets to his asshole. And for the third load, Dean shoved himself back inside Castiel and emptied himself with an unearthly growl. The lusty fog clouding his vision receded, light returning to its typical golden glow, and a twinge of disgust wrenched him back from Castiel. Cum dribbled from the small gaping hole, traversing the red, raised skin, and it was then that Dean finally witnessed the destruction he had wrought.

“Jesus H. Tap Dancin’ Christ, Cas, are you alright?”

A more radiant smile did not exist. Castiel grinned a toothy grin as he said, “I feel amazing. That was absolutely perfect. You’re surprisingly good at that.”

“Looks like I took out a lot of sexual frustration on your ass…” He paused as he consumed the entirety of Castiel’s body. “Fuck, that’s a lot of cum.”

Castiel glanced at his chest and touched the splatters of white dotting his tawny skin. “I was not aware that humans produced so much. But I find it arousing.”

“I dunno, Cas, I’ve—” Dean wrenched the towel from beneath him, then began to cleanse them both. “I’ve watched my fair share of ‘Massive Loads’ porn and this… is not something a human can produce.”

Dark concern shrouded Castiel’s stare. “Do you think it’s…”

Though imperfect, the towel had accomplished enough. “It has to be. We’re gonna end up passing out again for a while, I can feel it.”

“I can as well,” Castiel said as he attempted to stand, but his knees buckled beneath his weight.

Luckily for him, Dean darted under his arm and caught him. “Whoa, slow your roll there, Superman. Not to be crass, but I just fucked you from here to Sunday and back. Might need to take it easy for a minute or twenty.”

“Sorry.”

Dean clung to him. Pinned to his chest, their bodies melded, consciousness combined. So entwined, Dean could no longer feel himself alone. There was no telling where he ended, and Castiel began. “Don’t be sorry. Makes me feel all manly, catching you like that. And I like it when you grab onto me. Like you’ll never let go.”

That earned him a boyish smile. “That’s because I won’t.”

“God dammit all, Cas, I love you,” he said through a laugh.

“And as much as I love you,” Castiel began, “I think we better get into bed before we pass out. It’s—it’s already—”

After Castiel’s third gaping yawn, Dean shuffled them to the edge of Castiel’s bed and threw back the sheets. With Castiel ushered in, he followed and gathered Castiel in his arms. There, he quickly settled into a familiar calm, one he had grown so very fond of. But the unsettling truth prowled at the edges of that serenity, stalking them both from the shadows. Each heartbeat felt as though it counted down their final moments together, a shameless reminder of the impending threat.

In those final seconds of lucidity, a violet mist coiled through the air, seeking, searching until it found an outlet. And as the fog filled his nose with those scents—heather, pine, sea salt—darkness rode on its coattails, plunging Dean into a deep, dark, endless nothing.

This series is complete! Reblogs are loved and feedback is welcome!

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanart #deancas #deancas fanfic #deancas fanfiction #deancas fanart

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

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Imagine Luke and Leia ending up in the clone wars era but all of their force abilities are “what the actual fuck?” levels of bullshit, and neither of them ever realized that the things they could do with the force were considered extremely high level techniques.

that is one of my FAVORITE things to imagine yes. To me this is less about ‘Skywalker bullshit’ (though there is some of that) and more about the training they (didn’t) receive.

The high-Midi-chlorians-actual-descendents-of-the-force thing makes it easier to tap into the force, makes it more possible to do so without accidentally exhausting yourself. But, in universe, under the right circumstances and with the properly channeled belief anyone can do anything. That’s why Palpatine had to make the galaxy want an empire, why his first strategy was misdirection and his top priority was crushing hope. Chirrut was supposedly force-null and he walked through an army. Han navigated that astroid field because he had to. The force is everywhere.

In an amusing but possibly unintended turn of events, 6-12 weeks of training in a swamp with an elderly frog who only talks in riddles without ever being exposed to Jedi culture except as a myth is actually IDEAL if you’re looking to maximize a Jedi’s raw strength. Most Jedi training that we see in the prequels is explicitly designed to put the breaks on a force-users raw power (for honestly very valid reasons). Channeling all violence through a single weapon that will start screaming if you get too violent, training to use it defensively, is definitely the soft-ball alternative to just squashing people like meatballs.

Meditating, wearing beige, the code, shunning attachments, all that stuff is built around making sure force users never run above first or second gear even in stressful situations (again valid, when you run your jedi in the red sometimes they become murder monsters). The downside of this is that when they’re forced to maintain that placid pace for years at a time (i.e: prolonged war), they’re much more likely to burn out.

When Yoda told Luke do or do not, told him a luminous being was he, told him size matters not, the amazing thing isn’t that Luke believed him. That was karking objectively provable. Yoda lifted a spaceship, so now Luke knows he can too if he just thinks he can. So he does. Vader and Palpatine conquered a galaxy. Luke believes he can stop worlds, crush armies, conquer planets and so he can.

The incredible thing about Luke is what he doesn’t do despite being tapped into the Force utterly free of mental restraint. Luke’s op character trait is his compassion, not his strength.

I assume at some point Luke puts Leia through a similar 2 month meditation class where he convinces her that her only limitations are the ones she imposes on herself. She has a complete meltdown when she realizes that she actually could have boiled Tarkin alive with her mind and saved Alderann. This causes a volcano to go off, devastating the ecology of a small moon. On the flight home, both of them slightly charred, she tells Luke that she wanted to focus on politics and didn’t really want to be a Jedi anyway. Luke nods quickly, supporting her decision, and resolves to seek out some Jedi texts about how to teach people they can do anything but also...maybe...not...anything.

And thus the Jedi order is reborn.

- - -

In the time travel version of this, it means that Luke is assuming that all of the Jedi are restraining themselves like he is. And they are, but they also aren’t, because their breaks are subconscious, built in since childhood, and have a lot of failsafes so even if they turn darkside they still restrain themselves pretty good (a la Dooku).

Leia is, again, less interested with the Jedi-specific aspects of the war (especially now that she doesn’t have to feel guilty about being one of the only people who can pick up that mantle) and more interested in the diplomatic side. Again, Palpatine can only succeed if the galaxy at large accepts this, and from where she’s standing they’re fucking moving in that direction. If being a Jedi is tapping into the mystical energy field that binds all living things together to channel it through one specific person in one specific place, then politics is manipulating that same power for a diffuse impact on as many people as possible.

This status-quo lasts until a major clone wars battle where Luke’s like ‘wait- the entire other side is sub-sentient droids? No living beings, and no droids with complex personality matrices? And they’re currently, actively killing living, sentient humans? Well kriff, come on! This is a no-brainer!’

Luke takes a deep breath. The air- it doesn’t disappear or anything- but it- it stops moving. It’s hard to explain...but breathing has an odd...resistance. The hair on the back of every clone’s neck stands up. Several get vaguely sea sick. One pukes a little. Plo Koon stumbles back, head ringing and afraid.

Luke Skywalker stands up and clenches his fists. 10,000 droids crumple like flimsi in the hands of a child. The battlefield is eerily quiet for a moment, then that imperceptible hum (which no one noticed until it stopped) fades and the air returns to its normal density. A few of the shinies start whooping, then the whole battalion is cheering.

Luke massages his temples, smiling wryly at Master Koon. “I guess I can see how that would get exhausting if you were doing it everyday.”

Plo Koon just stares.

#crunchbuttsteak #ask #star wars #nevertheless meta #luke skywalker #long post #my au #star wars au no 33 #unrestrained au

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

positions

+ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: modern au, explicit smut (18+ only), eren is annoying but he’s also hot so it makes up for it i guess 🙄

+ word count: 3k

+ notes: i don’t want to talk about this actually, so if you see it, no you didn’t </2 i kind of got carried away with number three. sorry.

+ summary: eren just likes it with you—will take you however you want him to; but he does have a few favorite positions.

i. missionary — (i’m trying to meet your mama on a sunday, then make a lotta love on a monday).

Eren always did like looking at you. He thinks you’re gorgeous, sexy, and so, so, pretty; all the time, but especially like this.

Because there isn’t anything he likes more than watching you squirm because of him; breath unsteady and voice whiny because of him.

“You’re so pretty, aren’t you?” Eren asks, but question is rhetorical; and you’re barely coherent enough to answer him—like he’s fucked you stupid.

“Course you are,” he answers for you, reaching his right hand up to slip his pointer and middle finger past your lips.

You moan around him, warm, wet heat compassing his digits as you let Eren’s fingers fuck your mouth in sync with him thrust into your pussy. It’s only when he feels your spit pooling on your tongue that he pulls them out, immediately using the soaked fingers to further abuse your sensitive clit.

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Eren sings, tapping at your clit in sync with his repeated words.

Eren smirks through his pants as he drinks in your fucked-out state. He likes the way your eyes are screwed shut, high-pitched moans barely squeaking out as you grip at the sheets. Your back arches when he snaps his hips harder, deeper, and—oh, no, that won’t do.

“No, no, baby be good,” he coos, reaching his hand to press over your tummy and flatten your back to the mattress.

“Eren, please,” you barely choke out, head writhing against the pillow, “Just wanna come, please.”

“Just wanna come?” he repeats, but his tone is taunting, almost fiendish at this point, “‘M not stopping you baby, all you have to do is be good for me.”

“I am good,” you insist, words rushed, desperate, “I’m good for you—your good girl, Eren.”

Eren hums at your words, and bends his knee onto the bed, groaning after you as he hits a spot deeper inside of you. He moves his left hand off of your stomach to support himself on the mattress, and reaches his right hand up, crawling up the column of your throat.

He pinches his pointer finger and thumb at your jaw, leaning down until the tip of his nose brushes against yours, “Open.”

He barely waits until there’s a gap between your lips before he pries your mouth open himself with his thumb, the pad of his finger pushing against your tongue. He flashes you a sadistic smirk before spitting into your mouth, the tip of his tongue grazing against yours before retreating back into his mouth, “Swallow.”

Your breath is unsteady as your do as you’re told, opening your mouth again to show him just how good you listened; how good you are. A smile washes over his face for a second before he leans forward to kiss you—the kind of kiss he gives before he’s about to fuck you silly, “Good girl.”

ii. against the wall — (cookin’ in the kitchen, and i’m in the bedroom)

Eren isn’t a good cook and he knows it. He’s not terrible—he won’t starve if he ever lived on his own, but he’s no master chef.

It’s probably why he likes watching you cook so much. He would say he likes to help, too, but that would be a lie; he just likes being your taste tester, and distracting you a little bit while he’s at it.

“Did you set the oven to 400?” you ask him, back turned as you pick a wooden spoon from the drawer and bring it to the bowl.

Eren hums, eyes flickering to the oven to ensure that he did, indeed, set it to the right temperature, before taking the few steps necessary to close the distance between you two. Slowly, he wraps his arms around your waist, lightly draping his body over yours as he watches you stir the batter.

“Smells like lemons,” he notes, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Probably because we’re making lemon cake,” you chuckle, bringing your stirring to a stop.

You dip your pointer finger carefully into the batter before bringing it to your lips. You crinkle your nose a bit, before dipping you finger back into the batter, this time hovering it in front of Eren’s lips, “Here, taste. Do you think it needs more sugar? Or maybe vanilla?”

Eren’s gazes flicks from your batter-coated finger, then to your eyes, like a magnet; green growing cloudy with arousal. Carefully, slowly, he pushes forward until his lips wrap around your finger, teeth grazing your digit when he pulls back.

“No,” he answers, voice raspy, “It’s perfect.”

“You sure?” you question, words genuine and innocent; oblivious to the angle he’s playing at.

Eren unwraps his arms from your waist, steps back far enough to allow him to spin you around, you lower back pressed into the counter, and eyes wide. He smiles, reaches his hand into the bowl, but instead of waiting for you to taste it, he brushes it against your mouth, before forcing his finger past your lips, just far enough to clean the remaining batter against your tongue.

“Positive,” Eren says, before bruising his lips against yours in a kiss. Quickly, his tongue flashes to swipe against your bottom lip, bringing sticky, sweet cake batter into your mouth.

Then, he lifts you, skillfully moving the bowl aside to make room for you on the counter; knocking over measuring cups and utensils in his path that are sure to leave a mess, but right now you don’t care. Eren always did like things messy, after all.

Eren’s hands paw at the hem of your shirt, clumsily pulling it over your head. He hisses when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down into a searing kiss, and biting at his lower lip in revenge.

A yelp of surprise leaves yours lips as he grips under your thighs and picks you up from the counter. Eren groans when your tangle your hands into his hair, using it as both leverage and support.

“Fuck,” he mutters when you accidentally press yourself against his bulge in an attempt to tighten your legs around his waist. You pull away slightly, breath tickling his face as your eyes jump from his to his lips.

Carefully you comb your fingers through his hair again, elbows resting on his shoulders as you catch your breath.

“Question,” you pose, breathing heavily through your syllables, “How long do you think you can hold me up for?”

“Like this? A while, probably.” Eren replies moving his hands up from under your thighs to your ass.

“But like this,” Eren takes a few steps forwards until your back is pushing against the wall. He smirks when he sees the small gape at your mouth, and squeezes at your ass to exaggerate your expression, before leaning into to whisper in your ear, “A whole lot longer.”

iii. double date — (this some shit that I usually don’t do, but for you I kinda want to)

Armin’s fingers are, surprisingly, rough. More calloused than you would think; for the rest of him is all soft edges and round features; all smooth and nice and kind and good.

But, not like this. The Armin whose eyes gaze up at you from your legs is hardly anything like that. He’s not the Armin you know; this one is teasing, relentless, almost manic; he’s mean and he knows it.

You can see it in his eyes, that the Armin you know and love is nowhere in sight. Because when Eren pushes his finger inside of you next to Armin’s, you swear those clear, blue eyes that are usually so bright become icy with intent.

“She’s so pretty, Eren,” Armin says to his friend, but his gaze is on you as he twists his finger inside, knuckles bumping against Eren’s. You throw your head back with a grunted moan, and barely have the strength to hold it up again to see Armin’s smirk, “So pretty.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Eren coos, green eyes smiling at you.

It’s almost too much, the both of them looking at you from between your legs. You’re not sure which one to focus on—if you have the strength to meet either of their gazes for more an a second before screwing your eyes shut, overwhelmed by it. The attention, the feeling, the shared lust is all too much.

“Armin, hold on, let me—” Eren grunts, twisting his finger inside of you, so that it intertwines with Armin’s, “There we go.”

The sensation drives you crazy, the feeling of their fingers brushing against each other—brushing against your walls makes your head spin, and you curl your own fingers into a ball at your sides. It’s only two fingers—but it feels foreign, new, too much; it makes you thrash, they way they pump their digits inside of you, perfectly in sync, perfectly full every time.

It’s new to you, but Eren and Armin have always been best friends; it’s not abnormal for them to share. And they do it so well.

“Eren, Armin, I—” you call, almost wail at you feel someone’s fingertips brush past your weak spot, “Please.”

Your hips rise as you groan with the feeling, and as if rehearsed, the both of their free hands are quick to snap you back against the mattress. When you look down at them, Eren has a dirty look in his eyes, but Armin’s is dirtier—as if you let you know that that he did that; that he planned it, too.

“Don’t be rude,” Eren tuts, “Armin’s being so nice to you, so be good for him. Be good for us.”

You almost want to cry—if this is his nice, you’ve severely underestimated the Armin Arlert you know.

“You wanna come, yeah?” Armin asks you, with a tone so light and genuine, you would never think he’s capable of anything he’s currently doing.

You nod your head embarrassingly quickly, a stuttered moan slipping out as both boys tighten their told on each other’s fingers; and Armin smirks with glassy eyes before lowering his head closer to your center, “Don’t worry, I’ll let you.”

Armin’s eyes flicker to Eren’s only for a moment, a ghost of a nod shared before the two boys before Armin’s tongue is flat against your slit. You hiss, incoherent moans escaping your throat; Armin is merciless, licking, and sucking until it hurts to breathe.

Your eyes flutter shut when Armin pushes the tip of his tongue against your clit, both his and Eren’s fingers slowing in time with his movement, before speeding up just as he sucks at the bud again. Eren bites a kiss into your thigh, hand squeezing at your hips again.

“I said be good,” he reminds you, sucking at your skin again with warning, “Look at him.”

You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, that the second you make eye contact with the blonde again, he sucks on your clit; not ceasing his actions until you come with hot, white flashes resonating through your body.

You can hear them laugh at your collapse, Eren gently kissing your shaking thigh as your body goes limp. Eren shimmies his body up slightly, pulling both his and Armin’s fingers from your pussy and guiding them to your lips.

“Taste,” is his simple command, ordering you to open your mouth wide enough to take both of their fingers.

Eren hums through a laugh, before turning his head to Armin. He takes his fingers out of your mouth, brings his hand to the back of his friend’s head, grabbing tufts of blonde hair in his grip, and angling his head for a perfect kiss, “Share.”

You can barely register their mouths moving together, lewd sounds and flashes of tongue in their kissing, before your head falls back against your pillow again. They’ll be the end of you someday, you’re certain of it.

Your reaction makes Armin chuckle—almost innocently, but you know now you’ve been using that word far too liberally with him. He crawls up to lay next you, gently cradling your cheek with one hand to pull your face to his.

“Good right?” he asks gently, a light kiss placed on your bruised lips.

“Hm,” you can just barely nod, eyes flickering to stay open, “Eren was right.”

Eren finds himself at your other side, pressing feather-light kisses into your neck and jaw, “Told you so, baby.”

“Eren would know,” Armin smiles, and those blue eyes are coated with a layer of mischief once again, “He speaks from personal experience, after all.”

iv. the throne — (you’re down for me, and i’m down, too)

“You have to be careful,” you warn him, “It won’t be very sexy if I fall over into the tub.”

Eren hums, with the intonation that tells you he heard you, but he’s not really listening. He peppers kisses along your thigh, hands greedy; grabbing and pinching at your skin. He uses one hand to pry your legs open wider; one knee bent, foot resting against the side of your bathtub, while the other is grounded against the tiles, and Eren on his knees below you.

You don’t know why this is a fantasy of his—and why he wants to do it now, in the bathroom of all places, but you admit you give into him more than you should.

He wraps his forearms under your thighs, reaching so that the palm of his hands pull at your skin; and pull you closer to his face. Nervous, you grip at the sink for extra support.

Eren smirks below you, peppering an apologetic kiss dangerously close to your center. You growl, using your free hand to grab at his hair, crane his neck back to make him look at you.

“Eren, listen to me,” you tell him. He knows your voice has annoyance laced in it, but it’s also heavy with authority, and makes blood rush to his pants.

Raised eyebrows lower slowly, his pupils wide and blown out at your sudden command; before his surprise morphs into lust. “Of course, baby,” he concedes, licking at your clit too quickly, “Tell me what you want. I’ll listen.”

You squint with disbelief. Nothing is ever that straightforward with Eren; even when he’s on his knees about to give, he’s asking something of you, too. Nevertheless, you loosen your hold on his hair in favor of cradling his head more gently.

“Just,” you start, a shaky breath escaping through your words when Eren’s tongue prods at your clit, “Just make sure I don’t fall.”

Eren hums, vibrations resonating throughout your body, a hissed curse slipping past your lips. “Of course,” he repeats, “I wouldn’t want to hurt my baby.”

You nod, breath growing increasing unsteady when Eren circles your clit with his tongue. He gets greedy, alternating between licking, and kissing, and sucking; and relishing in your body growing heavy in his hands.

“Though,” he says, words spoken muffled against your sensitive skin, but those green eyes are bright and bold when they look at you, “If you’re afraid of falling, you could always sit on my face instead.”

v. love on top — (my love’s infinite, nothing I wouldn’t do, won’t do, for you)

You’re pretty like this, too. Pretty all the time—but if there’s one thing Eren likes more than you under him, it’s you on top of him.

“You’re so hot like this,” he says, voice thick with lust, as he reaches out to rest his hands against your hips.

Eren likes the way you bounce on top of him, thighs shaking against his. He’s surprised when you move your hands to take his off of you—quick to question your motives, before you lace your hands with his, a weak, but sweet smile when your fingers are intertwined.

He smiles back, using your connected hands to pull you forward, elbows bent, the back of his hands plush against the sheets, while your palms hold them down. You’re bent over now, tummy pressed against his, and Eren can feel you breathing into the crook of his neck.

He bends his knee to give him some leverage, adding his own thrusts while you desperately bounce back on his cock.

“B—babe… ‘M gonna come,” he moans, and it’s not long before he’s cumming inside of you. He unlaces one of his hands from yours, using it to rest against the small of your back as you shake through your own orgasm, open mouthed kisses pressed into his collar.

You lay like that for a bit, before Eren pulls out. He has to move you off of him to throw away the condom; but is quick to find his way back to the bed, rolling onto the mattress unceremoniously. He lays facing you, and reaches a hand out, palm open and waiting.

You roll your eyes, but lazily meet him halfway as he daps you up; a stupid smile on his face. He shuffles onto his back, and pulls you on top of him, this time using both hands to wrap around your waist.

“That was so hot,” he muses, love-drunk on you and tracing random patterns into your skin, “You should—should do that more often.”

You curl your hands up to circle his head, lazy fingers playing with his hair, as you nuzzle your head into his chest, eyes fluttering shut, as sleep takes over your body, “Maybe.”

(Definitely).

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader

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readyplayerhobi · 3 years

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Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 03

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 7.9k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: I hope this is okay...I’m still trying to get back into my groove of writing so I apologise if anything isn’t all that great! Please send me asks with what you think or leave feedback on a reblog!

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

“Professor! Professor Y/L/N! Owo has turned herself into a mouse!” Turning around from where you’d been helping Alicia Morningstar with her efforts to turn a teapot into a tortoise. It was a simple enough spell and something all Third Years had to learn to master, but it was proving to be a little bit of an issue for some students.

The process of turning inanimate into animate was a little tougher than the transfiguration spells they’d learnt in previous years so you were being very generous with your time in class. What it also meant was that students would make mistakes frequently, such that done by poor Grace Owosekun, also known as Owo to her friends.

Instead of the young Ravenclaw witch, there was an adorably cute mouse sitting on her table. A high pitched squeak emerged from her as you moved closer and you had to stifle your laughter. Working with the students was exceptionally rewarding, but sometimes you did get flashbacks to your previous job.

Thankfully, it took no effort at all for you to help poor Grace back into her human self. It was a slightly odd process to watch as it wasn’t as elegant as that of an animagus, but you were just thankful that you soon had one healthy student in her place once more.

“Are you okay?” You ask, crouching down and resting a hand on the table that she shared with her best friend, Sheyi Adeyemi. The Gryffindor was watching her with concern on her face, her brow creased as she reached out to rub Grace’s shoulder.

“I’m okay, Professor,” Grace smiles, though she seems a little off balance. “I’m sorry, I did the spell wrong. I don’t even know how I managed it.” She looks a little embarrassed, her gaze dropping from you to the wand she’d dropped on the table.

Giving her an encouraging smile, you shake your head and try to be as reassuring as you can. “Don’t worry about it. We all make mistakes and it’s better to make mistakes here in the classroom where they can be rectified quickly and efficiently. Hopefully, you can learn from that and get it right next time; you’re an excellent witch and I believe you can do it. Try again!”

Remaining crouched next to her, Grace gives you an uncertain glance before chewing on her lip. Sheyi rubs her shoulder and gives her a thumbs-up of encouragement, causing you to give her an appreciative look of your own.

Picking up her wand, the Ravenclaw takes a deep breath to steady her nerves before trying once more. There’s a moment where nothing happens and you can practically feel her disappointment, but then the teapot quivers. It’s a subtle movement but soon evolves into a stronger tremble, the spout beginning to transform.

After around thirty-seconds, a small tortoise is laying on the desk. Sheyi claps in excitement, congratulating her friend repeatedly and you stand with a fond smile of your own. Picking up the tortoise gently, you turn it over in your hands to check for any accidental deformities. There’s none there though and you place it carefully back onto the desk.

“Well done, Grace. You did a great job. It’s important to maintain a good level of confidence when working in transfiguration. Sometimes the intent is more important than anything else.” Nodding at her, you moved back towards the front of your classroom.

Standing at the front, you clapped your hands to get the attention of all your young students. It took a few moments for everyone to quiet down but you finally succeeded. Smiling at them all, you proceed to ask who hadn’t managed to fulfil the task you’d set out at the beginning of class. A few of them hold their hands up, sadness written all over their face and you resolve to carry on with this spell for the next lesson.

No one would move on until everyone was caught up. A glance at the clock signified that it was almost time for class to end, so you began to wrap everything up. Walking around the desks, you made quick work of turning all the tortoises back to teacups and a silent spell had them all dancing through the air to their place in the open storage cupboard.

“Okay, everyone. We had a good class today, you all did well. If you didn’t manage to get the spell to work, don’t worry about it too much. We’re going to continue with this transfiguration next time until everyone’s done it at least five times, okay? If you have any issues with it, you’re free to come to see me out of class time for extra tutoring if needed. There’s no homework for today so make sure to use that time to catch up on anything you’ve been given from your other professors. Class dismissed.” There was a palpable ripple of excitement that ran through the students at being able to go to lunch earlier than usual.

While they all rushed out of the door, a cacophony of loud voices and rippling robes, you tidied up your desk to prepare for the class that would begin after lunch. That was Sixth Years, which thankfully meant that they were very knowledgeable about magic and were a little easier to teach than the younger students.

The more complex spells compounded that, but you found the students to be both quick and adept at learning.

Finishing up, you took a deep breath before running your hands down the front of your robes to get rid of any unfortunate creases. As you do so, your stomach rumbles and that familiar ache of hunger causes a pang to run through you. Wincing slightly, you glanced at your desk and pondered whether to just keep working.

Ideally, you could use some more time to prep for the next lesson but you’d missed breakfast this morning. Chaeyoung had introduced you to some muggle form of exercise called ‘pilates’ last night and this morning you’d had muscles aching that you didn't even know existed. An extra half an hour in bed had been called for, which meant the necessary sacrifice of breakfast.

But you knew that you couldn’t miss lunch as well. The pure hunger you’d feel by the time dinner came around would be highly unpleasant. Sighing deeply, you decide that you could forego the planning to get some food.

Heading towards the door, you open it and are surprised to see Hoseok standing there. He’s about to knock, which means his hand is dangerously close to your chest. For a moment, the two of you stare at said hand with wide eyes. A fleeting thought in the back of your mind wonders what it’d feel like on you, his fingers long and almost dainty in their beauty.

It disappears quickly when Hoseok retracts it immediately, fumbling as he tries to stuff it into his robes. Glancing to his face, you have to work to hide the smile as you note the rose tint to his high cheekbones. All the while, he’s muttering apologies to you and taking a large step back to give you space.

“Hobi! What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in the Great Hall already?” There’s a few seconds pause where Hoseok simply stares at you, his expression so sweet and innocent that you’re suddenly reminded of teenage Hoseok once more. It makes you grin brightly, letting out a gentle chuckle as you gesture for him to move backwards.

Exiting your classroom, you begin to walk alongside him through the extravagant halls that make up Hogwarts. Multiple paintings with long gone witches and wizards watch you both walk past, a few slipping from frame to frame to keep pace. Hoseok clears his throat a little awkwardly, causing you to frown at him as you take in his stiff posture and the way he’s balling his hands behind his back.

“You didn’t come to breakfast so...I wanted to make sure that you ate lunch at least. If you didn’t turn up or agree to come, then I was going to go get something and bring it back for you,” Pausing momentarily, he studiously keeps his face away from your curious look. “You shouldn’t forgo meals, it’s not healthy.”

Raising a brow, you muse to yourself how sweet he was being. Jisoo would be proud of his brotherly instincts remaining strong and how determined he was to make sure you were okay.

“Yes, Professor Jung. I’ll make sure not to miss any meals in the future,” You completely miss the way he flinches at your use of his formal title. “I only missed breakfast because Chaeyoung decided to engage in some mild form of torture with some muggle exercise last night. I’m not entirely sure if I want to continue it on, though I am almost relishing the ache in my muscles now. Is that wrong?”

Humming lightly, you tap your lips as the two of you reach the doors of the Great Hall. Entering quickly, you explain the pilates exercise that Chaeyoung was a fan of to him as the two of you walked towards the head table. A few professors were already seated, eating and chatting with their neighbour, while the House tables were around three-quarters full.

Not all the students would eat lunch at this time as some of the older students had free periods that allowed them to eat a little later. On top of that, there were lunchtime clubs that focused on varying hobbies and interests that would serve their lunches to those participating.

Chaeyoung was one of those professors who wasn’t present today but you knew that she was supervising a field trip visit to the Ministry with some Fourth Year students. Instead, Seokjin sat in her place and gave you an expectant look as you sat down. As usual, Hoseok sat next to you and began to pick the food he wanted while you took your plate.

“Morning, Seokjin. Or afternoon rather. How are you today? Classes going well?” Reaching past Hoseok, you took a delicious looking cheese and bean toastie from a stack, the bread crispy and toasted to perfection while a long string of melted cheese stretches enticingly. It wasn’t really what you’d consider a lunch food, more breakfast food in your opinion.

Given that you hadn’t eaten breakfast though, you felt that you were allowed to indulge. Alongside the toastie, now cooling on your plate so it didn’t burn your mouth, you asked Hoseok to pass you some of the bacon that was teasing your nose. He did so without complaint; giving you a larger than normal pile until you were raising your brow at him.

“You need to make up for breakfast.” Was all he said before he began to tuck into his lunch of creamy leek and potato soup with freshly made bread. The smell of it dances over to you slowly and you peer a little closer, noting the specks of black pepper dotting the surface alongside a few more spices and herbs that you couldn’t figure out immediately.

To your surprise, Hoseok tears off a piece of bread and dips it into the soup before holding it up to your mouth. Eyes widening, you give him a silent question to which he responds by just lifting it once with a smile. The taste of the soup complements the bread perfectly and you hum in delight, doing a little wriggle in your seat as you chew it happily.

“That’s good! I might have some too.” You murmur, reaching out to scoop some soup into a small bowl as well.

“Be careful you don’t make yourself sick or end up too full. Miyeon has asked me to invite you to dinner tonight. It’s nothing fancy, just an Irish stew with homemade dumplings. Though I like to spice it up sometimes to make things interesting,” Seokjin leans closer as he winks, nudging you with his elbow as he lets out that distinctive laugh. “I want to finally introduce you to my family!”

Clapping your hands in excitement, you try to respond to him only he’d asked at the exact moment that you’d bitten into your toastie. Which means you have molten hot cheese and beans filling your mouth, causing you to do a strange dance as you waved at your mouth in an attempt to try and cool it down.

Snorting loudly, Seokjin helps and begins to waft his hands before you as well. After a few moments of suffering a burnt mouth, you finally swallowed it and gave him an appreciative smile.

“Wow, that was hot. Sorry, I think I just spat on you or something,” Reaching out, you wiped awkwardly at the spit that had hit his robes. “But yes, I’d love to come for dinner. Thank you for inviting me, I appreciate it. You’ve talked so much about Miyeon that I feel like I already know her pretty well but I can’t wait to meet her.”

He gives you a huge smile that makes his eyes light up, the happiness in them palpable and it makes excitement buzz through your veins. Hogwarts was finally beginning to feel more like home for you and you were glad to be making friends with your fellow professors.

“Fantastic. If you meet me outside the entrance hall around an hour after your last class then I can apparate you to my house. It’s easier if I do that for you as you’ve never been there and I have some work to catch up on after class. Is that okay?” Seokjin tilts his head, taking a long drink of fresh pumpkin juice with a questioning look in his eyes.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Glancing at the clock that was situated at the back of the classroom, you sigh deeply before returning your gaze to the two stacks of essays before you. Each sheet of parchment contained the musings of your Second Year students on the topic that you’d assigned to them the week before.

It had all been one big stack just under an hour ago when you’d dropped it onto the top of your desk once the last student had left your classroom. Now there were two; one which consisted of those you had carefully marked and the other those waiting for your attention. Thankfully, the completed stack was much larger than the other and you knew that you’d be able to finish it off before you went to bed tonight.

For now, though, you placed your quill down and linked your fingers together before stretching with a groan. A few vertebrae popped in your spine, the sensation causing you to wince though there was no pain. Getting old sucked and it felt like every day you woke up with some part of your body aching that hadn’t before.

Sighing deeply, you slumped into your seat and rubbed at your eyes tiredly. In an ideal world, you’d take yourself off to bed for a good nap before waking up for dinner. Not something you indulged in often but you were certainly feeling the repercussions of the pilates from last night.

You had plans though so you couldn’t go curl up into your bed. Yawning loudly, you stood and carefully put the completed essays away into your cabinet. The unmarked ones remained on the desk, waiting for you to come back to them tonight.

Heading into your quarters, you tugged off the robes that signified you as a teacher before pulling on some clothing that was more suitable for a casual dinner. A pair of dark denim jeans, a much-loved favourite clothing item from a muggle store you liked to browse back in London, and a warm knit sweater with black and white stripes made up your outfit.

Slipping your feet into some dark brown boots, you complimented the whole look with a knee-length black peacoat. Jisoo had recently gotten into crocheting and she’d send you a matching hat and scarf that she’d made, the blue, purple and silver colours blending beautifully. You thought Seokjin might appreciate it, particularly how much they reminded you of space. It was his speciality after all.

Pursing your lips, you wondered whether you should take a gift or not. You’d always thought it polite to take something when someone had invited you to eat at their house. Seokjin and Miyeon were going to be spending their free time to make you something to eat, it made sense for you to reciprocate their effort however you could.

Opening the cabinet next to your bed, you eyed the bottles contemplatively. You could take some wine, but what would suit stew best? Was red good?

Shrugging, you took the bottle of red Bordeaux that Jisoo had forced you to bring when you’d first moved here. It wasn’t your favourite but you knew that Jisoo was a big fan of it. Both she and her brother were wine connoisseurs it would seem, given how often you’d seen Hoseok enjoying a flute of wine at dinner.

Nodding your head, you lifted it and quickly left your quarters, heading through the empty classroom and locking the door behind you. You’d never really understood the point of locking anything at Hogwarts as all students learnt the alohomora spell anyway. It was just asking for everything to be opened.

You told yourself it was the thought that counts as you hurried along, your boots tapping against the floor in a pleasant noise that made you smile. As much as you loved Hogwarts, loved being back here and living here full time, you did still miss the freedom of being outside the castle walls. Sometimes it could feel a little stifling to live where you worked.

Seokjin stood outside the entrance hall, his robes still in place while he pushed his hands deep into his pockets. His breath came out in small puffs, visible in the cold air and you instantly got an image of those infamous dragons that breathed fire. Surely every child liked to pretend they were a dragon, witch or muggle, right?

“Hi,” You let him know you’re here, giving him a bright smile when he looks at you with wide eyes. “Sorry, I’m a little late. Got caught up marking. I swear, no one told me that teaching was going to extend into my free time.”

He laughs, letting out a snort in pure amusement as he gestures for you to follow him down the path. You couldn’t apparate inside the boundaries of Hogwarts, so the two of you needed to walk a little further away.

“Just wait until it’s exam time. You’ll regret ever becoming a teacher. But then you get to see them when they get their results and it’s rewarding. So you forget that you want to die sometimes and start it all again next year! Trust me, you’ll experience the same pattern every time. Thankfully though, I have Miyeon who is always willing to lend me a shoulder to cry on.” Gesturing wildly with his hand, he lets out a dramatic sigh before twirling said hand to rest on his forehead.

Now you’re the one snorting with laughter, feeling the stress of your working day leaving your body slowly. It felt good to relax with someone outside of Hogwarts, filling the hole of not being able to see Jisoo as often pretty well. Even though the two of you talked as often as possible, using the magic mirror that you’d bought years ago.

It functioned much like a muggle mobile phone or those fancy webcams that they had, allowing you both to see each other through the mirror screen and talk to each other. They’d improved a lot in quality over the years; the wizarding world trying to catch up to the increasing globalisation that the muggle world used.

The ridiculously fast speed with which muggles seemed to innovate had proven a constant source of fascination amongst the wizarding world. Alongside that though, was the worry that your community was going to be exposed quicker than ever given how slow it was to adapt to those changes. So there were plenty of entrepreneurs out there who were working hard to convert many muggle inventions into magic friendly inventions.

“Don’t tell me that. You need to ease me into this crap, not just tell me of the chaos that’s awaiting me.” Now it’s your turn to be dramatic, letting out a deep groan and stamping your feet. It has the desired effect of making Seokjin smile.

“You just complained to me that no one warned you...so…” Raising a brow, he looked at you with a smirk as you let out a sigh, shoulders deflating.

“True.”

Reaching the border, Seokjin turned to you and held out his arm like a Victorian gentleman. As he did so, he did a half-bow towards you with mischief in his eyes. You were positive that Miyeon must be a great woman to have caught this handsome and funny man.

“Shall we depart?” Nodding, you looped your arm through his and waited for the familiar sense of apparition. It wasn’t something that you particularly enjoyed but you’d done it so many times that you were used to it.

When it finished, you were no longer standing outside the gates of Hogwarts but a small house bordered with a delicate white, wooden fence. A look around shows a few more houses like Seokjin’s, all with gardens that probably were beautiful when they bloomed with full flowers in spring and summer.

His home looked cosy; the frames painted a cheerful yellow that should look strange but seemed to suit the bright orange door. It should look gaudy and awful, yet it felt like a home filled with love and laughter. Smiling at it, you noted the overflowing grass of the lawn that surrounded both sides of the gravel path that led to the door.

“It’s a wildflower lawn. In the warmer months, it has lots of different flowers and we always end up with so many different insects and animals foraging.” He says as you wave your hand through the tall stalks. It makes you wish that you could see it then, so you just resolved to weasel an invite during those months too.

“This house is so...cheerful. I love it!” You coo, reaching out to run your fingers along the wooden door. The paint feels smooth and hard beneath your fingertips and what looks like an antique knocker gives you a curious look. Peering closer at it, you note it’s in the shape of a heart with big eyes, causing you to look at Seokjin with a raised brow.

“Jihyo picked it. You don’t say no to her big eyes.” He said simply, referencing his oldest daughter. Pursing your lips, you nodded with a solemn look. Even though you didn’t have young kids, you knew that it was better to just give in sometimes.

Opening the door, Seokjin lets you enter first while he calls out to his wife and kids. The two of you take off your coats and shoes while he puts away your scarf and hat carefully. As you do so, there’s a loud ruckus from upstairs and you look up in time to see two small bodies run down the hallway.

The little girl you guess is Jihyo, her black hair separated into cute little pigtails while her cute face is split into an adorable smile of pure joy at seeing her dad. As she jumps into Seokjin’s open arms, chattering away loudly and lifting her stuffed dragon toy, you note the slightly more unstable toddler waddling to you.

She’s a lot smaller than her big sister and you recall Seokjin saying that she’d only started walking half a year ago or something. Crouching down, you smile at her in what you hope is a friendly way, reaching out and taking her tiny hands. She grasps them tightly, coming to a wobbly stop before you and looking at you with eyes so reminiscent of her dad’s.

“Hi, you must be Sooah,” Gently shaking her hands up and down, you can’t help but laugh at her shriek of delight. “You’re so pretty! Your daddy says you’re very smart too.”

Looking up at Seokjin, you note him watching you both with a soft smile on his face. His kids are a constant source of joy and pride for him, something you’d come to know after the months of getting to know him. From the looks of how excited his daughters were to see him, you knew the feelings were probably reciprocated as well.

“Y/N, hi! It’s so nice to meet you.” Standing, you watch as a beautiful woman with long, dark hair picks up Sooah in a smooth motion. With practised ease, she shifted the toddler into a comfortable position before leaning up to accept Seokjin’s quick kiss.

The two of them together looked like the perfect family, causing you to bite your teeth as a warm feeling bloomed in your chest. That would hopefully be you and whoever you fell in love with one day. If you could have half the happiness Seokjin had, you’d be a happy girl.

“Miyeon, Seokjin’s told me so much about you. Thank you for inviting me tonight, I’ve been looking forward to it since lunch,” You gush, grabbing the bag that you’d brought with you and holding it out to her. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to bring anything but I felt rude not so, I’ve brought some wine that I think would go well?”

Letting Sooah down, she carefully watches as the little girl toddled back into what you presume is the living room. Once sure she’s okay, she pulls the bottle out of the bag and examines the label closely.

“Ooh, this will work wonderfully. Thank you, you didn’t have to do this though. We’re just glad for your company. Honestly! I’ve been bugging Seokjin for weeks now to invite you. Meeting his colleagues is always fun and I’m sure that I drove him up the wall wanting to meet you. He’s talked so favourably about you.” With that, she looks at her husband and you laugh at how red his ears have gotten.

It hasn’t gone unnoticed by Jihyo, you place her small hands on his cheeks and squeezes while giggling. She looks adorable doing it, causing you to press your hands to your chest as you coo at her. As if she knows you think she’s the sweetest thing that you’ve ever seen, Jihyo gives you a smile that’s full of mischief.

Seokjin’s daughter.

“Okay, can daddy please sit down? Let’s go play with Sooah!” He distracts his daughter quickly, shuffling through to the living room and disappearing through the door. Standing in the hallway with Miyeon, you give her an awkward look and feel thankful when she invites you towards the kitchen.

“Come, come. He always likes to play with the girls for a little bit when he gets home. Stress relief for him and also time for them to be with their dad without my interference. Let’s go open this bottle and have a chat. The stew’s been cooking for a few hours now and Seokjin will make the dumplings in an hour or so. It won’t be too long, I promise!” Her voice is bubbly and immediately puts you at ease.

“That’s sweet. A nice way for him to relax. I wish I could do that. I just usually end up falling asleep once I’m back in my quarters after dinner. Not a huge amount to do once I’ve done my work but I’ve certainly done a lot of reading lately. I’ve got lots of books if you want to borrow some.” That gets a laugh from Miyeon as she pulls out two glasses from a cupboard above the counter.

Their kitchen is just as warm and cosy as the outside of their house. It’s not very big, but you think it’s perfectly sized for everything they would need. The oven hums quietly as it cooks the stew, the glass front letting you see the large pot situated inside.

“Let me know what you’ve got and I’ll think. I have two whole bookcases in the living room that you can look through if you’d like. Getting to read a chapter each night before bed is something I indulge in now that Sooah is old enough to sleep in her bed.” Carefully pouring out wine into the glasses, she gestures for you to sit at the table and the two of you begin to chat away.

You’re pleased to discover that Miyeon is just as nice and friendly as she’d initially seemed and you both discover that you have a lot of interests that cross. It’s probably half an hour later when you’re both interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door. Miyeon doesn’t seem to be surprised at it, instead getting a bright smile on her face as she stands and moves back out to the hallway.

Frowning slightly, you follow her and pause when you hear a familiar voice respond to Seokjin. Eyes widening, you turn the corner and take in the appearance of Hoseok. He’s unwrapping the familiar Hufflepuff scarf from around his neck and is greeting Miyeon with that beautiful smile and a big hug.

“Mimi! Looking pretty as ever,” He compliments, winking at her before chuckling when Seokjin pushes him. “And where are my two favourite little girls?”

Almost immediately, Jihyo comes running out and almost throws herself against Hoseok’s legs. Her arms wrap around them tightly and you can’t stop the smile that forms when you spot Sooah wobbling towards him as well. He makes soft sounds of support to her, holding his hand out to encourage her forwards before scooping her up into his arms.

“Uncle Seok!” Jihyo says, her voice high pitched as she tugs at his trousers insistently. “Come play dolls!”

“Not right now, sweetheart. I will in a few minutes, okay?” He runs his hand over her head and you’re struck by the sheer familiarity of him with Seokjin’s family. You knew that they all knew each other; after so many years at Hogwarts, it would be impossible for them not to be friends. But this was a whole other level of closeness.

Upon seeing the confusion in your face, Seokjin winces and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I forgot to mention. I felt bad about inviting you when Hoseok was right there like I was leaving him out or something. So I invited him as well. He’s a close friend of our family overall so I thought it would be nice to blend all our friendships!”

Hoseok looks up and spots you, giving you that warm and friendly smile that makes your stomach bubble. It disappears almost instantly though as a small crease etches itself into his forehead, his gaze moving from you to Seokjin. You can almost feel the uncertainty flowing from him, causing you to give him a little wave to ease his nerves.

“Hey, you should have dropped by before we left. We could have all travelled together.” Moving closer to the group, you try to make sure that Hoseok knows you’re not annoyed or anything by his presence. And you’re not. If anything, you’re quite pleased to see him. It makes you feel a little less nervous about just being on your own with Seokjin and Miyeon, even if they’re lovely.

There’s no getting around how awkward it feels to be the third wheel in a situation.

For a moment, he simply eyes you to try and see if you’re lying. Sooah is trying to distract his attention away and you have to try hard not to coo at how good he looks with kids. You should’ve known he would though; he was great with his students and had spoken previously of his love of working with younger children as well.

“Honestly. I think someone wants your attention right now though,” Gesturing to the little girl in his arms, you smirk slightly. “I think the guys should go back to entertaining the kids. Miyeon, would you like me to help make the dumplings instead of Seokjin making them?” Hoseok’s brow rose slightly but he didn’t question it, nor did Seokjin protest.

Miyeon nodded in response, letting her hand run through Sooah’s soft hair affectionately before following you back to the kitchen. You’ve never been the best cook in the world but you knew enough to not embarrass yourself as the two of you created the savoury dumplings.

Finishing up, Miyeon carefully took the pot of stew out of the oven and placed it on the side. The aroma that left it once she took the lid away made your stomach rumble in hunger and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment. That was probably the best thing you’d smelled in a long time and you couldn’t wait for a home-cooked meal.

Not that the food at Hogwarts wasn’t home-cooked, but there was something a little more special about having a meal made by family or friends. Carefully, you placed the dumplings into the stew, letting them sit along the top to cook until dinner was ready. As soon as the pot was back in the oven, you both sat back at the table and continued on your conversation.

It’s only ten minutes or so before Miyeon begins to prepare dinner for the girls. A glance at the clock lets you know that it’s already after six in the evening and they wanted to get the kids in bed before everyone had their dinner. Normally, they would all eat dinner together but tonight was more for the adults.

Helping her, you set the table following her instructions while she plates up some stew for the girls to eat and lets it cool a little. A cup of water for each gets placed on the table and soon enough, the kitchen is filled with shrieks and the sound of children eating loudly. Both girls enjoy their meals and eat them all with no complaints, causing you to compliment Miyeon on her good parenting.

As they eat, Miyeon pushes you to go talk to Seokjin and Hoseok who are both chatting away in the living room. The fire in the hearth is blazing away happily, warming the room and giving it that aroma that only a real fire could give. At your arrival, they both greeted you and all three of you began to discuss your work. It was inevitable that it happened and you’d rather do it now before boring Miyeon with it over dinner.

Maybe only half an hour passes before Seokjin disappears to help put his daughters to bed. It leaves Hoseok and you alone in the living room, the wine already making you feel a little looser and calmer. The sofa was incredibly comfortable and you had to blink a few times, yawning as you felt unbelievably relaxed.

“Careful or you’ll miss dinner.” Hoseok teases you, his voice deep and pleasing. Smiling, you shuffle a little further up the cushion before stretching with a groan. Looking back over at him, your brow rises as you take in his own slumped figure.

“Careful, or you’ll miss dinner.” You parrot back to him, grinning as he rolls his eyes playfully. It’s surprising to you how comfortable you feel in his presence now when he’d been almost a stranger only a few months ago. Even Jisoo was surprised by how well the two of you were getting on now, commenting that Hoseok was mentioning you far more in conversation than she’d expected.

And vice versa for you.

“I’m so hungry,” He whines, laying his hands on his stomach and rubbing at it with a petulant pout. “It smells so good.”

“Well, it’s almost done. So you won’t need to wait much longer. I’m sure your poor, starving stomach will be able to cope.” Giving him an exaggerated look, you reach forward to poke at his stomach playfully and enjoy the quiet giggle he gives. He’s ticklish, given how he tries to wriggle away from your touch.

You’d investigate that further but you didn’t want him making too much and ruining the Kim’s attempts at getting their daughters to sleep. So you just filed that information away for further use, positive you’d get to use it at some point.

“You’re going to be at breakfast tomorrow, right?” His question is quiet, his eyes focused on the dancing flames of the fire that crackled and popped occasionally. Glancing to him out of the corner of your eye, you smirk.

“Why? Going to miss me if I’m not there?”

“I just don’t want you missing meals. Breakfast is the most important mea-” Cutting him off before he can finish, you hold up a hand and laugh loudly. His eyes narrow at the sound and his pretty lips threaten to pout once more.

“I’ve heard that more than enough in my life. Don’t worry, I’ll be there. As you can see, there’s no pilates tonight. If I miss breakfast then it’s probably because I’ll be too lethargic from dinner tonight. Feel free to bang on my door if I’m not there to wake me up but I will probably be very grumpy.” That gets a reluctant smile from him, the dimples in his cheeks more prominent.

“Noted. On another note, are you going home for Christmas or staying?” Staring at him, you chew on your lip as you consider his question. Your plans were near enough set in stone but you always had the option to change them at the last minute.

“I’ll probably be staying. I mean, I might go back for a day or so but I don’t have anywhere to live down there and I don’t want to deal with the hassle of my parents,” You’d never really gotten along with your parents and tried to avoid them if you could. “Might visit Jisoo a few times but for the most part, I’ll be staying at Hogwarts. Are you staying?”

He nodded his head slowly, linking his fingers together across his belly and sighing.

“Yep. I can’t leave because we still have students who stay during the holidays and as the Head of Hufflepuff then I need to be there for anyone who needs me. It’s usually pretty quiet though so it’s nothing to worry about.” You smile at the warmth in his voice and the concern for his students.

He truly was a great professor and an even better Head of House.

“Maybe you could come with me to visit Jisoo or something. I’d only be going for a few hours and I’m sure she’d love to see you again.” There’s an odd look on Hoseok’s face as he stares at you, causing you to frown in question at him. But he’s saved from answering by the arrival of Seokjin and Miyeon once more.

“Come on, my second children! Delicious dinner awaits!” Seokjin says loudly, gesturing wildly with his arms and causing Miyeon to scowl before gently slapping his stomach. He almost instantly makes an exaggerated sound and you’re reminded of Hoseok only minutes earlier.

“Finallyyyyy.” Hoseok exhales, standing upright and hurrying into the kitchen. You watch him with wide eyes and look at the couple in the doorway with raised brows, causing Miyeon to snort with amusement.

“Hoseok loves Seokjin’s stew. Another reason he got invited tonight. Anyway, come on. You’re about to experience the best stew you’ve ever had in your life.” Taking your arm, she pulls you towards the kitchen as Seokjin follows behind you, a proud look on his face.

“I’m glad that my brilliance is appreciated in this house. The house-elves at Hogwarts should learn my recipe and let everyone be blessed by the wonders of my food.” The sound that leaves you is very strange, almost like a snort, a cough and a laugh all at once. It’s exacerbated by Hoseok’s sharp, and very dry, response.

“It’s not that good, Seokjin. Calm down.”

“Sacrilege.”

Seokjin and his wife watched as the two Hogwarts professors walked down the gravel path to the gate. They were talking quietly to each other, their words too low to hear and their dark robes made them almost blend into the night. It was only from the soft lighting from inside the cottage, giving a warm glow to the lawn of wildflowers Miyeon carefully cared for, that allowed them to see the outline of the witch and wizard.

Once they had passed through the gate, closing it politely behind themselves as they went, there was a moment where they simply gestured goodbye. Seokjin grinned broadly and waved back, watching as their bodies disappeared as they apparated back to Hogwarts.

“He is so in love with her,” Miyeon muses, her lips curved up into that pretty smile that had enraptured Seokjin so long ago. “And she has no idea, does she?”

Shaking his head in response, he gently encourages her back inside before closing the door. It was far too cold outside and he didn’t want the warmth of their home seeping out unnecessarily. A creak from upstairs makes him pause, eyeing the stairwell with narrowed eyes for a few moments before deciding it was nothing.

The house was old and prone to making odd noises at all times of the day, but he’d also realised that kids liked to do the exact opposite of what their parents wanted. Which meant he wasn’t entirely sure if Jihyo had woken up and was quietly playing to herself.

Though she was also four-years-old and if he’d learnt anything about his beloved daughter; it was that she was just as loud as he was. Seokjin had never been as proud. He was glad that she was starting to entertain herself and no longer required their attention all the time.

Following his wife into the living room, he smiled fondly as she flopped onto the sofa. Miyeon took the pink, orange and white hand-crocheted blanket that was draped alongside the back and wrapped it around herself, opening her arms to encompass him as well when he finally sat.

“She hasn’t got the foggiest. Which makes it even funnier to watch him flirt with her because she just doesn’t realise. I think everyone has realised at work as we all try to engineer them being together or around each other for things. Still isn’t clicking for her, bless.” Seokjin snorts in amusement, kissing Miyeon’s hair affectionately when she pats his stomach.

While Hoseok had come for the food, he wasn’t entirely sure if the younger man hadn’t come mainly because you’d be there. His feelings were very obvious to anyone with eyes and a brain, which was obviously why he’d invited you to the dinner tonight so loudly. An opportunity for Hoseok to meet with you in a social situation outside of Hogwarts.

And from the way you’d both been laughing and talking animatedly all evening, it had worked very well. It was clear the two of you had known each other for a very long time given the number of inside jokes that had been thrown around casually alongside old memories that you shared. The two of you seemed to be very natural together and Seokjin couldn’t help but hope something a little more romantic might happen.

“Don’t be mean! Hoseok’s sweet and I feel so sorry for him. Imagine fancying someone for years in school when you’re all gawky and...teenage, only to meet them again when you’re both older and more attractive. I hope she realises soon, they have such good chemistry together.” Miyeon muses quietly, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing tiredly.

“They do, which is why it’s fun to tease them. He gets flustered because he knows that I know and she just doesn’t pay attention.” That might sound a little mean but Seokjin was trying to help them. Sometimes people just needed a little push and he was more than happy to do that.

“I’m not surprised, though. I mean, think about it from her point of view. He’s her best friend’s little brother, not exactly someone you think about romantically. Especially in school of all places, she probably viewed him either like a little brother or just a pure nuisance. Imagine how confused she feels now, seeing him as this attractive man who is very dateable. I wouldn’t know what to do with that situation either.” Humming, Seokjin considers his wife’s thoughts carefully before nodding.

“I can see that. Must be a little awkward. Maybe she’s not sure what to do...or if she even has permission. She’s got her best friend to think about too.” The reaction he gets is a sleepy moan of acknowledgement, causing him to grin before carefully moving his arm to wrap around her shoulders.

“I’d hope his sister would want her brother and best friend to be happy, even if they find that with each other. But who knows. Either way...he’s been on a mission to change her mind.” He let himself recall all the little ‘dates’ that Hoseok had taken Y/N on, without the actual title of a date. The unicorn date, the Great Lake date where he’d taught her about the creatures that lived beneath in, the multiple Hogsmeade dates that she still thought were just two friends going out.

Of course, Hoseok hadn’t pointed out the difference to her. The Hufflepuff Head was content to let her think it was all friendly, and he’d always made it clear that others could come along too but it was an unsaid rule amongst the faculty that no one would say yes.

Seokjin hoped, for his friend’s sake, that she would eventually realise. It was just a good thing that Hoseok embodied the traits of Hufflepuff; limitless patience, unending determination and incredibly loyal. That thought makes him laugh gently, causing Miyeon to shift and look at him lazily.

“I just realise...we always say that Hufflepuff’s are loyal, right? Well, Hoseok has been loyal to her for years. Even if there was that gap where they didn’t see each other for a few years...as soon as she comes back, his affections are right there once more.” Stroking his wife’s arm soothingly, he kisses her head once more as the romance of the whole situation hits him.

“That’s...that’s so sweet. I think she’ll come around soon. It’s obvious she likes him too. They just need something to push them a little more and make her realise that it’s okay to go for him.” Pursing his lip, Seokjin considers her words for a moment. She was right, which she always was.

Glancing over to the kitchen, the calendar on the wall just visible to him through the doorway, he did some quick maths in his head. The Winter Solstice Ball was fast approaching and if he remembered right, he knew the perfect spell to help things along for his lovesick friend.

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wickedgamesoyaoya · 3 years

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↝ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: y/n pinning them against a wall - prompt inspired by this twitter post

↝ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: kuroo x f!reader + sakusa x f!reader

↝ ᴡᴄ: kuroo - 1000+ sakusa - 900+

↝ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing, aggressive behaviour-ish.

↝ ᴀ/ɴ: I’ll be doing this prompt for Osamu, Akaashi and Yaku too soon ~ I just like it a bit too much haha. also I edited this 3 times so if there are still errors, I am sorry pls ignore. lmao.

Kuroo Tetsurou

A low rhythmic hum vibrated inside of your throat, to accompany the track playing from your phone. Those who were fortunate enough to catch the melody trailing along with you, would often find a smile on their face. Between the tranquility of the sound and the bliss warping into your aura – your presence accidentally had an impact on many. Those in your university only knew you as the kind singer who would offer sincere smiles, free of cost. It was a reputation you did not mind adhering to – maybe it was better that they did not see the darker shades that coloured your soul. So, generally, a smile would remain sewn into your visage – unwavering until you were within the safety of your home. Where you could release the other parts of you that were deemed “not school friendly.”

Though, today your calculated barrier between the two worlds would disintegrate, due to the careless words of your best friend, Kuroo Tetsurou.

Upon reaching the corner that would connect you to the hallway where your class room was situated, you plucked out an earbud and placed it back into its case. Since this was a course you shared with Kuroo, the two of you held an uncommunicated agreement to wait for the other before entering the room. The thought of your close friend twisted a knot inside of your chest with threads of adoration, excitement and hope. It was quite clear that your relationship was not merely platonic. The issue was that neither of you had initiated the first step to test the boundaries.

But you would try today. You would try after class.

“So, what’s going on between you and l/n?”

Hearing your last name, you paused before switching hallways. How many other l/n’s were at the university? It was certainly a conversation about you.

So the question was, who was the one posing the question, and who was the one about to answer it?

“We’re just friends.”

Okay. Easy. That was Kuroo.

The nonchalance laced into his answer fueled the flame igniting in the pit of your stomach, yet you continued to conceal your presence from the pair.

“So you don’t mind if I ask her out?”

“It’s not my place to say anything.” Even without a visual, you knew your best friend would have added a shrug to accompany the statement. Somehow, that irritated you more.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped past the corner for your grand reveal. “Hi there, boys. You wouldn’t mind if I borrowed Tetsurou for a second, would you?”

Your sudden emergence had startled Kuroo, but what had his chest constricting was your use of his first name and the hallow laugh that was spilling from your lips.

“Uh, sure…”

It took you a second to realize who the other male was – he was an acquittance of yours, one you shared two classes with. One who was mostly forgettable not due to a lack of charm, but solely because he wasn’t Kuroo.

“Perfect. Thank you.” Curling your fingers around your best friend’s wrist, you dragged him down the hallway, not caring for the confused glances thrown into your direction by those around you. When you reached the area between the staircase and corridor, you gently pushed him against the wall before placing both of your palms on either side of him.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you were quick to drown out his voice with your own.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Just friends? That’s bullshit.” The concoction of emotions weaving into your bloodstream had given you a headrush. But at the center of the varying feelings was fear. Because you wanted more than a friendship, and you were about to risk your entire relationship for that desire. You tried to suppress it, but over time it became overwhelming. And now – his words had awoken something inside of you. Something you could not contain.

The black-haired male blinked down at you, his irises moving from your arms walling him in, to the death glare your eyes were partaking in. “Isn’t that what we are, y/n? Friends?”

Out of the options available to him, Kuroo had selected the one for a coward. Or perhaps, he was testing you. Either way, your irritation with him had increased tenfold.

“Fuck you.” Lowering your hands on either side, you stepped away from him before turning back into the direction of your class.

“I wasn’t done yet.” A sigh left his mouth as he caught your wrist with his hand, tugging you towards him. Once your back aligned with his chest, he repositioned his arms to curl around your stomach. Heat spread throughout your entire body, and you were unsure whether it was from your anger or due to his close proximity. “We are friends, y/n. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to be more. You’re right, it is bullshit. But I can’t exactly go around telling everyone in the school that I’m in love with you, now can I?” Feeling you become incredibly still in his arms, he chuckled softly, pressing a kiss against your head. “But if I had known you would get that pissed off so easily, I would have said something stupid earlier. Because pinning me against the wall – that was hot.”

“Shut up.” Breaking away from his hold, you spun around to face him. A half smirk was tugging at his lips, one that communicated how much he enjoyed the situation. “You are horrible. What would you have done if that guy asked me out and I said yes? Hm?”

“I’d probably cry and then say on to the next one!” To further instigate you, he dipped an eyelid into a wink.

“Really. Horrible.” With your passion deflating, exhaustion crept into your muscles, bringing a groan to sound. “Let’s just get to class.”

“Nuh huh. We can ditch one class. Plus, you still haven’t said it back.” Tilting his head, he proceeded a step forward to close the distance once more. He then tapped on your chin, allowing your gazes to connect.

Inhaling a deep breath, a faint smile was presented towards him.

“I love you too, idi-.”

The remaining half of the insult did not leave your mouth, rather it was replaced with a muffled protest as Kuroo gently caught your lips with his. As you tried to break the exchange, he tangled his fingers in your hair, keeping you secure against him, before mumbling.

“That’s boyfriend to you.”

Sakusa Kiyoomi

The repetitive interaction between the laminated flooring and the leather training balls had resulted in a dull ache in your temples. As the manager of a professional volleyball team, you were well accustomed to the noise but today, your patience was running thin. Practice had officially ended two hours ago, and yet your boyfriend, Sakusa Kiyoomi continued fine-tuning his serves. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you scanned the male for any indication of exhaustion – something you would have capitalized on, in order to reason with him. Except the outside hitter’s reserve of energy was far from being depleted. It often surprised you how resilient he was, he certainly did not have Bokuto or Hinata’s stamina, but that did not keep him from pursuing his goals. Whenever he would discover a new technique or target, he would work on it relentlessly. It was an admirable trait, one that made him one of the best players you had ever seen.

And let it be known, supporting him was always your intention. But at the moment, you were passing your own limits and remaining calm and composed was not an option. Between the throbbing on either side of your head and the acids chewing away at your stomach lining from hunger, you were seconds from raiding Bokuto’s secret snack stash.

“Omi, you’re done. Go take a shower.” After swapping your clipboard for a towel, you proceeded across the court, before offering it out to him.

The outside hitter stared at you in response, indicating that he heard your commands but was electing to ignore them. Returning his attention to the volleyball within his grasp, he began prepping for another serve. A sigh mixed with a growl rattled inside of your throat as you twisted the towel in frustration. When the ball landed on the opposite side of the court, an eerie grin stretched onto your mouth.

“Omi. You little shit.”

With each step you took forward, Sakusa intuitively took one step back until his back was met with the padding attached to the wall. You were quite aware of your height difference, although that did not matter. You planted your hands on either side of him, purposefully caging him in. Knitting his brows together, confusion swam in his dark irises.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing? I’m not asking you to finish up. I’m telling you. We finished practice two hours ago, and I am starving. If you do not go into there and take a shower this instant, I will not be responsible for what happens to you. You know what they say – you’re not yourself when you’re hungry.” After gesturing to the locker room with your head, you squinted at him, attempting to seem menacing. However, you were only met with amusement.

“Are you saying you will eat me?” The question had Sakusa battling a smile. Was he really supposed to find that scary?

“We both know someone like you would taste delicious, so I’m not saying that isn’t a possibility.” Maintaining a deadpan expression while spouting nonsense was not a task for the weak – but after having countless conversations with actual idiots, you had mastered it. You would not provide your boyfriend any satisfaction.

“Okay. I’ll go.” His admittance of defeat was joined with the raise of his eyebrow, communicating that he expected you to “release him” now. You were about to comply with the silent request when he dipped down and placed a fleeting kiss onto your mouth. The sudden display of affection had erupted a volcano of butteries inside your stomach.

“What the …”

Leaving you there baffled, the MSBY player slipped past your defenses, smiling to himself.

Two could play at this game.

Later that night:

After gifting you an apology meal at your favourite fast-food joint, you both elected to walk home rather than taking a taxi. His fingers were intertwined with yours loosely, and since the streets were mostly abandoned, he had removed his mask, permitting his lungs unrestricted access to the fresh air. Now that your mood had elevated significantly after satisfying your human needs, you were ready to question your boyfriend on what occurred earlier inside of the arena.

“So, why’d you kiss me?” Kissing was generally an activity he preferred to engage in after showering. And therefore, you were puzzled by his recent actions.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shifting his gaze to the row of streetlamps that framed the sidewalk, he lifted his shoulders into a shrug.

“You liked that I threatened you, didn’t you?” A gentle laugh danced past your lips as you shook your head. That seemed to be the only explanation you could think of in the moment.

“No. You looked cute trying to seem scary.” He joined his retort with a scoff, although it was evident, he was suppressing any physical indication of joy.

“I am scary!” Resisting your urge to pout, you squished his hand to reinforce your statement.

“Yeah, sure you are.” Refusing to bestow upon you his full attention, his eyes travelled to the sky above. While he would not vocalize it, he found most of your antics to be ridiculously adorable. It was what he loved about you. And there was no denying that you could certainly scare others when deprived of food – but not him.

“I will eat you. Don’t tempt me.” A small pout forced its way to your lips to display your mild annoyance. Though, the emotion was easily defeated when Sakusa in a quick swoop, stole another kiss. This time, however, he lingered, enjoying the taste of your lips.

It turned out that maybe his rules around kissing required some amending. Because he wanted to kiss you, whether or not some of his pre-conditions were met. Guess that was a consequence of being in love.

Once he pulled away, he exhaled a chortle.

“Yeah? I’m looking forward to it.”

General taglist: @haikyuufairy @newfriendjen @lvoejimin @moonlightaangel @gyozaaaaa @byun-nies @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @amberalisa @graykageyama @yourstarvic @chaichai-the-weeb @chibishae34 @haikyuusimp91 @volleybloop @rajablast @idiot-juice-enthusiast @melonmayhere @cuddlesslut @athenarosaline @memes-and-money @coconut-dreamz @elianetsantana @tsumume @tsukkismamagucci @the-golden-jhope @camcam1617 @elephantloser @dreamstormings @anejuuuuoy @fantasycantasy @aquariarose @bloody-bella

#kuroo x you #kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #sakusa x you #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #kuroo tetsuro imagine #sakusa imagines

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stayndays · 3 years

Text

𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 - 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧

my gift to @wingkkun for @kafenetwork‘s holiday treats event!

genres & tropes - fluff, minor angst, comedy, misunderstanding(!!!), magical boarding school au (hogwarts but not really), dorm neighbors au, best friends to lovers au, shy!chan, extroverted!reader, gender neutral reader, chan’s pov

disclaimer - the entire fic is based around the fact that the reader was kinda accidentally drugged with a potion, two swear words, chan likes an unnamed female character (but hey in this case he likes everybody!!)

word count - 5.1k (uhm?? what the fuck?? this is coming from the blurb writer guys what the hell happened)

summary - bang chan does not have a crush on you. actually, he has a crush on his partner in potions class, and decides to do something about it… until it goes all wrong, and the liquid of a love potion is running down your throat. now, chan has to deal with your lovesick antics for a week while trying not to become infatuated with you himself. spoiler alert: it’s a lot harder than it looks.

a/n - it is i, penguin anon, the dude who made that survey for stayblr writers, a friend of your own friends, yes hi lol KJFSKDF honestly, this could be a very confusing fic to some people, as some things don’t line up, i will admit that! that’s mainly because i frantically put this together in the last two weeks while preparing for midterm exams, so not all the ideas i had in mind lined up correctly. regardless, i hope you enjoy this, especially you kai ^^

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐳𝐞𝐫𝐨, 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞

Bang Chan does not have a crush on you.

You’re his best friend, his next door dorm neighbor at the boarding school he goes to. He comes to you for one subject, while you come to him for another. You’re the person he sits next to at lunch, and the counterpart to his timid personality. You are anything but his crush.

He does, however, have a crush on the cute girl he’s partners with in potions class, aka, not you.

“So,” you start off, tapping your feet repetitively on the wooden floor of Chan’s dormitory, the chair you’re sitting on face away from the desk it accompanies. “Let me get this straight.”

Chan nods for you to continue, playing with the blanket threads on his bed to anxiously wait for your response.

“You’re going to make a love potion for your crush to drink?” you confirm with him, to which he nods, lips pressed together tightly. Chan can easily tell how flabbergasted you are at his simple, yet elaborate idea, wheels turning in your head. “But this could go wrong in so many ways! How are you going to get her to drink it anyways? How are you even going to get the ingredients to make the potion?”

Chan scratches the back of his ear, which is slowly growing red by the second. A nervous grin slowly growing on his face before he answers you. “You see... that’s where you come in.”

He notices the deadpan on his best friend’s face and winces.

“...You want me to steal the ingredients, don’t you?”

Chan nods timidly.

It’s not Chan’s fault really, Chan believes, as you’re known for being a master at being sneaky. Not only can his own clumsy hands barely lift up a pencil before dropping it onto the ground, he has to be a role model to the younger students! It’s only right for you to do the job instead.

“Fine!” you throw your hands up into the air in exaggeration. “What do I get in return, though?”

“Hmm...” Chan ponders on your question, tapping his chin in thought. “Banana milk for a week?”

“Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

Bang Chan has made a huge mistake. It’s the kind of mistake that’ll affect his entire school year, undoubtedly. The kind of mistake that he’ll scream out at 2 am into his pillow, not only because it’s highly embarrassing, but also because it could ruin everything.

It all starts with a carton of banana milk.

The plan, originally, was quite simple. Chan had seen his crush fold open a carton of banana milk in class and gulp it down right in front of his eyes. Well, while he pretended to be busy looking up something in his textbook, at least. By gifting her banana milk, that was actually drained out and replaced with the love potion he brewed, not only would he seem like a nice person to her, she would be infatuated with love for him.

Two birds hit with one stone. Simple as that.

Until you came in, strolling down the hallway Chan was leaning his back on, eyeing the pastel yellow carton in his hands. He knows that his first period is potions class, he knows that you greet him every morning with that same smile on your face while he waits outside for the classroom doors to open. However, he should’ve known that openly holding a container of banana milk in his hands for everybody passing through the hallway to see was not a good idea.

And that’s how Chan ended up where he is right now.

“Hey, Chan!” You approach him with a grin, hair thrown back messily. “First of many banana milks you got for me there?”

Chan’s breath gets caught in your throat while you look up at him expectedly. His eyes continue to shift over from the paperboard box in his right hand to your bold eyes.

“Um- Er- I-” His fingers curl tighter around the drink, but his voice just so happens to fail him out of all the times in the world.

And then his head fails him, and he nods out of pressure.

He watches your eyes light up, and your hands lightly touching his own as you snatch the drink from his possession.

You rip open the opening to the carton. Pressing your lips against the entrance, you pour the drink into your mouth and down your throat, all in one go, right in front of Chan. His mouth is slightly agape at your bold actions, his head screaming at him to tell you what you just did in hopes that you’ll snap out of it before it’s too late, yet he stays silent.

“Hmm, the liquid is more like water than milk, but at least it still tastes like banana!” You gently crush the carton before patting Chan on the shoulder. His eyes widen when you pause, and then laugh in a dazed manner. It’s almost as if he can see the hearts forming in your eyes.

“Thank you, Channie. See you at lunch!” You wave him off in a flirtatious manner, something he’s never seen you do to anybody in all the years he’s known you, and his heart pounds faster with worry.

Soon enough, he falls out of his stunned trance and presses his back against the wall shamefully, slowly sliding down it. He’s too anxious to care about the weird stares he’s getting from other students going down the hallway, curling himself up into a ball.

“WhydidIdothatwhydidIdothatwhydidIdothatwhydidIdothat-”

“Chan?”

Chan’s head shoots up from his position on the ground, only to lock eyes with his crush’s worried eyes. He gasps quietly before rocketing up from the floor, brushing himself off, startling his crush. “Y-Yes?”

“Why were you slumped down on the floor like that?” He watches her scanning his face while he bunches up the sweater he’s wearing with his hands. “Your face is really red too… should I take you to the nurse’s office?”

“Oh! Uhm, no, it’s okay. I feel fine. Class is starting in a minute, regardless,” Chan reassures her, and fortunately to him, she doesn’t question it any further and changes the subject of their conversation.

Yet, his back of his mind sends him flying back to what happened previously. The flashbacks of you drinking that love potion right in front of his eyes sends a pit down his stomach, churning it to make him feel sick and lightheaded. He ponders about how much he screwed up this time, thanks to his stupid brain and timid decisions.

That love potion you drank was not meant for you.

You are not his crush.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨, 𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Bang Chan is a fool, a dunce, the embodiment of stupidity.

At least, according to his two closest friends besides you: Lee Minho and Seo Changbin.

“You’re such an idiot, Chan!” Minho cackles as he bangs his fist repeatedly on the wooden table of the school’s dining hall, accidentally sending his hot chocolate flying all over the place as he flinches.

“I have to agree with Minho on this one,” Changbin, who’s passive behavior is the opposite of Minho’s wild personality, tells the oldest boy. “You really messed up on this one.” He continues to flip through the pages of his textbook after cleaning up Minho’s mess with his wand.

Chan groans, letting himself fall onto the table pathetically, head first. He covers his eyes with his hands and shouts in agony, making Minho laugh even harder. Eventually, once the rowdy student calms down, he shakes Chan’s shoulder to get him to sit back up again. “No, but seriously, what are you gonna do now? They’ll be completely obsessed with you for the next couple of days.”

“A week, actually,” Changbin corrects, flipping to a specific page of his potions textbook and displaying it to the two. “A love potion's lasting effects depend on the amount you give the drinker.”

“And a milk carton holds like, a liter of liquid? So if you multiply those numbers, it’ll for sure last an entire week, which started yesterday,” Minho points out with his finger, directing Chan’s eyes to the info on the page.

Chan lets out a deep exhale, scratching his scalp as he processed the information. “So, do any of you have advice for what I’m supposed to do?”

“Don’t look at me-”

“I know, Changbin, you’re too focused on your studies to find a partner. I’m mainly asking Minho, our designated player in our year.”

“Well,” Minho cracks his knuckles before answering. “I’ve never accidentally drugged somebody with a love potion before, so unfortunately you’re all on your own. Fortunately, however, Y/N’s coming right your way!” Minho points cheekily to behind Chan, making him whip his head around.

And there you are, walking right towards them.

“Channie!” you stroll on over to the trio of boys with a pep in your step and a grin on your face. “Let’s go to Insanis!”

Chan’s ears perk up at the name of his favorite cafe near campus, always serving the best scones and cinnamon rolls he’s ever had, and the fact that you know his love for the place. However, he comes back to the realization that you’re under the effects of a love potion, so he shakes off the blush that’s threatening to appear on his cheeks.

Slowly starting to feel under pressure at the fact that you’re waiting for his response, he nods his head repeatedly with a shrug, packing up his belongings spread out on the slightly dirty, wooden surface. Your face lights up at his agreement, and you eagerly wait for him to stand up. Chan waves off his two friends, ignoring Minho’s snarky smile and Changbin’s desire to laugh right then and there, and exits the dining hall with you holding his hand.

You’re going to be hard to deal with these next few days, he thinks.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞, 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan thinks you’re going crazy.

You’re acting like a drunk person whenever you see him, completely helpless of your own mind. Then again, you’re the one who drank the love potion a couple days ago.

He just didn’t realize how strong of a potion it was.

“Channie!!” you holler out to him from behind, crunching snow beneath your feet as you try and keep up with his pace. “Let’s go into the snow! Come on!”

He turns around to your grinning face, eyes drifting over to the bobble on the beanie you’re wearing that’s covered in snow. You point excitedly to the thick snow next to the outdoor path you two were walking along. “But we have astronomy class in half an hour, and I have to meet up with my potions classmate during that time, remember?” Chan objects, giving you an uncertain look.

You whine dramatically with a pout, stomping to him and grabbing his wooly coat, yanking him with you. “It’ll just be for five minutes!” Leading him off the pathway, the two of you entered the snow covered grass field. Chan shakes his head at your childish, yet heartfelt actions, watching you turn back and fall onto the snow back first without hesitation.

“You know I’ll get sick if I-”

“You’re underestimating my healing skills, Bang. Now get in the snow and freeze your ass off with me,” you point to the snow below you, slowly feelings your fingers become numb despite the knitted gloves you’re wearing.

Chan breathes out a laugh at your desperate attempt to get him to join you, shaking his head as he finally accepts your offer. Unlike you, he slowly sits on the ground at first and then lies down on his back hesitantly. The cold feeling of the ice on his back makes him shiver, and you giggle at his reaction while making a snow angel.

The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, taking in the sudden silence of the campus grounds and the snow falling on each other’s faces. Chan’s body is as stiff as a board by now, but he endures it for the sake of your enjoyment. That is, until he finally decides to get up after checking the analog watch on his wrist.

“Hey! Do we really have to go now?” you yell at him with wide eyes, making Chan roll his own.

“Yes, Y/N,” he pulls you up from the snow, turning you around so he can brush off the snow sticking onto your back. “Now I have to meet my classmate in just a few minutes.”

“Why her?” you whine once more. “Do you like her more than me?”

Your sudden question makes Chan pause for a few seconds, before shaking off the feeling of his heartbeat slowly gaining speed. “D- Don’t worry about it. Now let’s go.”

“Hey! Answer my question!”

You realize that not even Chan knows the answer to your question.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan is a shy person when it comes to affection.

This day, however, he realizes that you are the exact opposite of him.

You and him have a routine every Thursday where you’d come into his dormitory at 7 O’ clock sharp to study until his brain was filled with herbs and spices he has to memorize for his gardening elective. It’s not his fault he didn’t get into the magical musics class like he wanted to, and got stuck with becoming a botanist instead. You, on the other hand, usually had trouble with your spells class, always pronouncing the Latin words slightly off. The two of you would study until it’s pitch dark outside, and then Chan would walk you back to your own room.

However, Chan already anticipated how this study session would be different.

He flinches slightly when he hears a set of knocks on his door already, checking the clock on his studying desk. Chan shakes his head out of disbelief, and opens the door without even checking the peephole.

“Y/N, you’re ten minutes early, why are you-“

“Chan!” Your face lights up and wraps your arms tightly around Chan’s torso, catching the boy off guard. “I missed you.”

“You- You saw me yesterday though,” Chan tries to tell you, checking the hallways just in case other students were around to possibly witness this. “and the day before, and the day after that, and-”

“Yeah, yeah, but even if I don’t see you for a couple hours, I still miss you,” you admit with a sudden, shy tone, burying your face into his chest. Chan feels himself flare up at your actions, catching him off guard. Not once have you ever expressed affection like this towards him, always settling for high fives and fist bumps, possibly even a side hug if you’re feeling nice.

“Just uh, come in. I heard from my potions classmate that our upcoming quiz for spells is quite hard,” Chan makes you let go of the hug against your will, and awkwardly guides you inside of his dorm.

“Ahh, why do you always mention her?” You question him with curiosity flowing through your voice, sitting down on his bed casually and tossing your schoolwork next to you. Meanwhile, Chan goes back to his spot on his desk chair. “It’s like you’re obsessed with her.”

Chan’s ears flare up at your remark, but at the same time, he fights the urge to call you out on your antics for the past few days. Thinking about it, it definitely wouldn’t do any good for you, and you needed his help for your upcoming quiz. “Nothing you need to worry about, Y/N.”

“But-”

“Let’s get to studying,” he urges for you to start with him, to which you roll your eyes at, but place your textbook in your lap regardless. Chan smiles softly at your willingness, and gets to work as well.

Typically, the statement “study until it’s dark outside” applies for at least three fourths of the year, especially since you two tend to stay on campus for the summer simply because you both liked the area. However, once winter rolls around and the snow starts falling, the sun is up for a lot less time, sometimes even disappearing by dinner. Chan knows this well, so the two of you instead set a timer for two hours and pray that you won’t get distracted by each other’s antics.

What Chan did forget is how jumbled up you get once the sun goes down.

“I’m already sleepy...” you mumble out behind Chan’s back, rubbing your eyes with your index fingers.

Chan scratches his head, contemplating his next move. To be fair, it’s quite difficult to get a love sick person to do what you want, even if you’re the person they’re in love with. “But Y/N, we’ve only been studying for an hour and a half.” He decides to move his stuff to his bed to join you, his joints already becoming stiff from sitting on such an uncomfortable chair.

“Yeah but I’ve had a long day-” you lean over so you can rest your head on Chan’s shoulder. “Even though I wanna spend more time with you, I kinda just wanna sleep...”

Chan freezes up, cursing you for being so sleepy at times like these, cursing you for being so affectionate towards him these past few days, cursing you for being so-

“Fine, you can sleep.”

You smile with a daze, closing your eyes. Mumbling a small thanks of gratitude, it’s the last words Chan hears you say before you drift off. Chan finds himself not being able to focus with the weight on his shoulder, twirling the pencil in his hand back and forth. He lets out a sigh, at last realizing how he’ll never get another word written down in his situation, and uses his wand to place his work away and close the light. Pulling up a spare blanket for the both of you to share, he finally closes his eyes as well.

Until Chan realizes that if his crush did the exact same gesture to him, he wouldn’t treat her nearly as well as he did for you.

You don’t know that, though.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲

Bang Chan is not good with love.

If it hasn’t already been clear enough. Although he’s had quite a few crushes in his teenage life, including the one he has right now, he’s never had the confidence to confess or god forbid ask somebody on a date.

So why not ask the person who’s under the spell of a love potion for advice?

Sure, it’s a far stretch, even Minho agrees, but maybe, just maybe, Chan could get something good out of this week.

He catches you off guard one day, bright and early before class, while the two of you were heading to your locker.

“Hey Y/N,” Chan asks you out of the blue while waving through classmates left and right. Thinking about it, it was a miracle that nobody was talking about Chan’s mishap and spreading it around. “Would you consider yourself... good at love?”

He watches you almost choke on your own spit with a worried look. You turn to him after clearing your throat with an almost offended expression on your face. “Why are you asking?”

“Well, uh, I wanna try confess to somebody..”

“What?! Who? Tell me,” you blurt out without a second thought, staring at his side profile with wide eyes. “Is it your potions classmate?”

Chan is quick to notice the gazes of your fellow classmates after you raise your voice, motioning for you to keep it down. “It’s nothing for you to worry about! I just need some advice on how to do it, you know?”

“Hmm, well...” you take a pause to think, resisting the urge to pout. “You realize you’re asking somebody who’s never confessed either, right?”

“Still, you’re more.. extroverted? Than me, so you must know more than me,” Chan shrugs, feeling his neck grow hot while he tries to explain to you why he asking you, not anybody else, without telling you the actual reason.

Your shoulders slump down in defeat, “Fine. Just- uh- ask them on a date first? If you just confess straight away, you’re most likely to be rejected because they may not like you,” you explain to him, your voice getting shakier and more quiet as time goes on. “At least if you ask them out first, they can start to like you at the date.”

“Okay.. I can do that,” Chan scratches his red ears, already feeling the queasiness in his stomach just at the thought of being rejected. “Right? Hopefully? Probably?”

You simply hum in response, looking down when Chan turns his head to get a look at you. He holds his breath out of instinct, afraid of a sudden outburst coming from you, but nothing comes. Most likely, Chan thinks, you’re more than upset because you’re not the one he’s confessing to.

It’s a poor idea, and was a poor idea in the first place.

You’re jealous, and Chan can tell.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐱, 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan tends to forget instructions.

So when he’s left out in the snow after his crush rejects him, your words from the previous day only then come back to him.

“I’m sorry,” his crush frowns once the words leave her mouth. “I don’t see you the same way.” She shakes her head, and Chan’s shoulders slump down as she turns her heel to walk away.

The feeling Chan experiences is neither his heart shattering into a billion pieces, nor the emotion of relief. It’s in between those two, for a reason Chan can’t figure out straight away.

It’s somehow not heartbreak, yet Chan still wants answers.

“Oh, uhm, one last question,” Chan perks up at the last second, his crush whipping around at the last second. “Why? Why do you not like me?”

His crush stares at him for a few moments, lips slightly apart. Then she laughs.

“It’s because of Y/N.”

“Y/N?”

“I can tell you both like each other. This week, I’ve noticed that your friend has been acting different, and although I saw that you were kind of uncomfortable with it at first, I could see you warming up to it,” she smiles. “Chan, you and Y/N have something that I will never have with you, it’s a given. I hope you come to realize that, if you haven’t already.” She nods one last time, bidding farewell to Chan for the day, and drifts farther and farther until Chan can’t see her anymore.

Later that night, when Chan reflects on his crush’s explanations, staring at the ceiling, he wonders if it would’ve been different if he listened to you more carefully. Maybe he should’ve slowed down, and instead of practically shouting at his crush that he likes her, he should’ve spoken more properly and asked her out on a date like what you said. Maybe then, he’d take her to Insanis, which happens to be his cafe of choice that you and him go to almost every week. And maybe, him and his crush would play in the snow and make snow angels happily, like how you two did a couple days ago...

No. Chan’s crush is right.

His head’s thoughts are slowly being all about you.

You, on the other hand, believe that you’ve lost him.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan loves you.

No matter how hard he tries to diminish his feelings for you that has grown in the only the past few days, he can’t stop himself.

From your happiness when playing in the snow, to the way you become cuddly when the moon comes up, to the explanation his own crush gave him.

It all lines up.

“Dumbass,” Changbin speaks up bluntly when Chan reveals his realization to his two guy friends while walking to the dining hall for breakfast. Minho laughs in response as Chan rolls his eyes.

“I gotta admit,” Minho swings his arms around the two, bringing them in closely. “You only just realize now? It’s impressive how dense you are.”

“Dense? Am I really?”

“Yes,” Changbin and Minho both say at the same time, and for once, Chan can only laugh. The trio approaches the dining table, while Chan scans the room standing up for your familiar face.

Minho, takes notice of this fairly quickly, “So, what’s your next move? It’s still a gamble, though.”

“Hmm? How come?” Chan genuinely asks his friend.

“Did you fall in love with the Y/N you’ve known this entire time, or only the Y/N you’ve seen this past week?”

Minho’s question makes Chan silent for quite some time, sitting down slowly on the dining benches. His two friends patiently wait for his answer, Changbin in particular already digging into his breakfast when Chan finally responds.

“I think I’ve always liked them, I just never realized it.”

To Chan’s utter surprise, they both nod their heads in agreement. Changbin swallows the food in his mouth before commenting. “I think you’re right. Maybe you just had that crush on your potions classmate to state that you and Y/N are just friends to everybody, without even meaning it yourself.”

Minho elaborates further, “And she said that you and Y/N have something between the two of you that’s unique? Then she must’ve implied that you guys have this bond that makes you two inseparable.”

Chan simply hums, taking in the information. He’s glad to know that he’s right for once, finally having a plan on what to do next. He sighs in relief, grabbing the nearest plate of food and stacking it onto his own plate, digging in. Yet, Chan still wonders where you were that morning, and how he only saw you later in the day hanging out with your other group of friends. Not even talking to him once.

You simply weren’t sure anymore.

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

Chan has not seen you for the entire day.

It’s supposed to be the day that the potion wears off from your body, and you can finally go back to your normal self (despite Chan’s wishes), but Chan has yet to see you. Not once at the dining hall, or the hallway potion’s class is in, or even with your other group of friends who join you in history class.

Fortunately, though, he’s able to overhear your dorm roommate, who says that you’ve refused to go to class today for reasons they don’t know. So Chan takes matters into his own hands, considering that nothing eventful ever happens in herbology class on Mondays, he decides to skip the period to head to your dorm room and approach you, with the help of your roommate giving him a spare key to enter.

The moment Chan walks into your room, a sudden chill goes down his spine, most likely because of the cold air. The lights are closed, with only the morning sun’s brightness seeping through the cracks of the window. The curtains that hang over your bunk bed, as you sleep on the bottom, are blocking his view from where you are. He closes the door gently, but makes sure he’s loud enough to alert you that he’s there. Peeking through the curtains, he sees your body covered in heaps of blankets, smushing your face into your head pillow.

“Hey,” Chan takes a seat at the foot of your bed, taking in your mellow appearance. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

It takes you a minute to answer, and Chan starts to wonder if you’re actually awake right now, until you speak up.

“It’s not like you to skip class, Channie,” you choose to say instead of answering his questions. You appear from your spot in your pillow, gazing up at him with a tired look on your face. “What’s that in your hands?”

“Oh, it’s- uh- banana milk. It’s for you,” Chan extends the hand he’s holding the drink out for you to take, but you don’t budge.

“Are you sure that one doesn’t have a love potion in it instead of milk?”

Chan gets taken aback at your sudden theory. “You knew it was a love potion?”

“I could tell, even through the effects of it,” you state, finally sitting up and gently taking the milk from his hands. “Don’t feel bad though, since you’re here, I might as well tell you something.”

“During that entire week of being under that spell, I learned that-” you pause briefly. “If you already love somebody, your love for them basically strengthens by ten. It becomes something unstoppable, and you start to unravel your feelings for that person instead of hiding them. Originally, I wanted to kept those feelings inside of me forever, but because I accidentally drank that potion, look where I am now. Have you caught on yet?”

Chan could only stare at you, even after putting the puzzle pieces together. You tense up at his reaction, only fearing the worst to come out of this.

His next words surprise the both of you, however.

“That’s the best side of you, though,” Chan admits without a second thought, and you have to do a double take to see if your best friend, known for being shy and timid, really said that.

“C-Care to elaborate?” you stutter out through your shock, a light tint of red spreading throughout Chan’s body.

“The best side of you is the one you showed me last week. The one where you let your guard down instead of keeping up your confident persona,” Chan explains hesitantly and slowly, gripping his fingers tightly with each sentence. Then, he suddenly smiles, then grins, something you rarely ever see coming from him.

“That’s the side I fell in love with.”

“Love?!”

“Mhm.”

“Really? You’re not playing with me right?”

“Mhm!”

You groan loudly once it finally hits you, pressing your forehead against his shoulder. Chan starts giggling at your reaction, the both of you finally feeling at peace with one another. It’s as if all the awkwardness and tension from the last week drifted away slowly, with Chan’s now ex-crush leaving his field of vision, only for you to come in at the right time. He wonders how Minho and Changbin will react once he reveals that he finally got into a relationship, and how the rest of the school year will pan out with you by his side.

“So,” Chan starts to snicker uncontrollably. “You really are infatuated with me, huh?”

“Ya, Bang Chan! That’s the first time you’ve ever teased me. Ever!” your eyes widen in utter surprise, punching his arm slightly as Chan laughs harder, you joining him soon after. You nudge him one last time, coming up with something to make him as equally flustered as you are right now.

“But doesn’t that mean you’re infatuated with me too?”

@skzwriternet @stayracha-net pls reblog my fic for once i beg u

223 notes · View notes

wonniesmile · 3 years

Text

❥ playground! (ep. 2)

⤷ ellie’s moments in playground episode 2! (ft. txt <3)

⤷ bulletpoint format!

⤷ after a long wait, episode 2 is finally out! don’t forget to leave suggestions for new fics!!!

“HOW THE HECK DID YOU BEAT ME AGAIN.”

huening and ellie were once again playing on the nintendo, waiting on the others to finish getting ready for the next shoot.

“ellie please. please let me win. just this once...for my dignity.”

the boy gets on the floor and starts bowing.

ellie starts freaking out, obvi.

“NO PLEASE DON’T BOW!”

she’s in a very frantic state at this very moment, no clue why...but, i mean it’s ellie...right?

“what’re you guys playing?”, “oh- um- mario k-”

ellie looks up from her position, DUN DUN DUN.

that was like...really cringe, i’m so sorry.

it was none other than the choi beomgyu. standing. right. in. front. of. her.

“oh- oh my god- uh- h- he- hello!” she musters up a greeting and quickly bows.

“you don’t need to bow ellie! we’re friends!”

oh no, this poor girl’s heart.

if she dies from an early heart attack, it was bcs of choi beomgyu, just giving everyone a heads up! /j

anyways, her face was like BEET red.

from across the room, her members were watching her every move.

sunoo was laughing at how serious the rest of them were.

“can you guys like...idk...calm down? she’s literally fine.”

“i know, but...” (jake)

“but what?” (sunoo)

“oh you know...” (jungwon)

“can ya’ll finish the damn sentence?” (sunoo and jay)

“it’s nothing...” (sunghoon)

“jesus christ, you guys are insane.” (sunoo)

“five minutes!”

ellie’s head shoots up.

“darn it, i almost beat you.”

“not even close huening, ellie is the master.”

her cheeks, once again, burn up.

before she could thank beomgyu, ellie is pulled away by jungwon.

��what the heck wonie?”

“it’s time to go.”

she’s obviously very confused? what was getting into him?

choosing to ignore his attitude, ellie obliges and lets the boy drag her into the studio.

he spoke no words...very odd.

ellie started overthinking...did she do something subconsciously???

“places please!” she massages her temples and goes backstage to wait for her group’s cue.

the episode started with each group dancing on stage.

their instructions were to “have fun!”

she gave it her ALL, messing around...and even getting into a dance battle with riki.

she found it absolutely hilarious, but unfortunately, her face dropped at the sight of jungwon.

obviously, something was bothering him, but she didn’t have the courage to ask...at least not now when everyone seemed to be having fun.

jungwon was not one to show his emotions outwardly, so to a normal person, he seemed like his usual self.

but, ellie knows better, she can read jungwon like the back of her hand...something was up.

she made a mental note to herself to ask him if he was ok after the shoot.

the first game was an absolute BLAST.

they were competing to see which team they would have to play on.

since there was an odd number of people, ellie didn’t have to compete against anyone. instead, she got to choose which team she wanted to be on.

(she secretly enjoyed it)

she looked at the two teams in front of her.

her original plan was to go into the yellow team so both teams would have an equal amount of enhypen members, but she felt iffy about doing so because of jungwon...

she could possibly be overthinking things, but she didn’t want to take any risks.

making eye contact with him one last time, she looks over at the red team and points finger guns at them.

“yay ellie!” beomgyu seemed way more enthusiastic than everyone else.

of course, ellie’s heart rate quickens at the weird observation.

the team name choosing was absolutely wonderful.

beomgyu came up with ‘brave dummies’ and for some reason everyone went with it, not that ellie was complaining because it was REALLY funny.

this episode required a lot more physical activity than the last one, which she had no problem with.

she led her team to victory during the first game with the tubes and ping pong ball.

got picked up by beomgyu hai!

wait wait wait...let me set the scene for you guys because...it was something else.

after winning the race, the 7 teammates all did a group hug, ellie being shoved into the middle while the rest ferociously chanted “ellie! ellie! ellie!”

kinda scary...looked like a cult from the outside lol.

she was so confused.

all of a sudden, a figure picks her up from behind and starts cheering very loudly.

she looked absolutely terrified because she had no. clue. what. was. going. on.

and when this poor girl turns her head back to look at the person carrying her, all bodily organs in her shut down.

her eyes went blurry and suddenly she couldn’t see, her kidneys failed, her limbs detached from her body...it was insane.

jay and sunoo, being the teasers they were, laughed at the look of the flustered girl.

it was...so much.

when beomgyu put her down, she felt her life flash before her eyes.

she still couldn’t believe what just happened, placing a hand on her forehead to see if she was sick??? for some reason.

she literally could NOT think straight after that.

the rest of the episode felt like a blur.

during the flag game, she failed oh so miserably...

“you ok?” jay teasingly asks her.

“leave me alone.” *cue her side eye*

“hehe.” (jay)

she felt so bad for doing so badly during the game, she kept apologizing :’).

“ellie! its ok! none of us did good :)” thank god for yeonjun.

she had to lay her head down onto ni-ki’s shoulders because she felt so defeated.

ni-ki responded by hugging her by the waist.

“don’t worry, i did horrible too.”

she hummed and pouted.

the screaming from the others made her feel a lot better.

“there’s that smile!” sunoo squeezes her cheeks.

the other team won, obviously.

she examined jungwon, he seemed like he was doing a lot better, seeing him enjoy himself was all the reassurance ellie needed.

oh good god...the next game...hahahaha.

it was...hai!

they had a piece of paper in which they had to fit all their teammates on, it was...intense.

she tried standing in the middle of jake and ni-ki, but was pulled by kim sunoo to stand in between him and beomgyu.

she froze up, god...can’t you just act normally ellie? (this was to herself btw ;) )

she tried not to think about the close proximity between her and beomgyu, instead giving her all into the game.

“ellie, it’s alright, step on my foot.” yeonjun tells her.

“are you sure?”

“yes of course.”

she cautiously steps on his foot, making sure not to put too much weight into it.

they got past a good amount of rounds, the last one is where they REALLY struggled.

“i have an idea!”

ellie announces while clapping her hands.

“i think if we put our feet in this pattern...”

she shows what she means by using her own feet as an example.

“it would save space...we can hold onto each other for balance like all the other rounds and our other foot can come up. the foot on the ground will serve as a stabilizer.”

“that’s SUCH a smart idea!” yeonjun smiles at her.

“thanks!”

jake couldn’t resist it...it came as an automatic reflex. he moves his hand around to squeeze her cheeks.

“miss smarty pants saves us yet again!” (jake)

she glares at him and hits his arm.

(there was a slight smile on her face though)

with ellie’s strategy, their team wins yet again!!!

they huddled into a group hug while the other team groaned in defeat.

“ellie should’ve joined our team!” soobin yells.

she giggles.

the final game was a big round of yut nori, which ellie still had NO CLUE how to play.

“do you know how to play?” beomgyu asks her.

“not really?”

“no worries, leave it to us!”

ellie blushes...yk...the usual.

ellie didn’t do much through out the game, following whatever the others told her to do.

by the end of it, you’d think she’d know how to play, right? wrong!

she still, to this day, doesn’t know how to play yut nori :))).

she was sad as the shooting ended, knowing that they probably won’t be able to shoot together with txt for a LONG while.

it was so very fun getting to hang out with her seniors, though beomgyu was a bit too much.

after they said their goodbyes on camera, it was time to say goodbye off camera.

soobin suggested that they make a gc together, to which everyone happily agreed to!

beomgyu asked ellie for her number, which she shouldn’t have though much about considering he was the one making the groupchat for them, but a girl can dream right?

after hugging everyone goodbye, her group moved back into their dressing room.

“i’m exhausted.” sunghoon mentions.

ellie’s eyes did feel heavy.

the 8 of them have been shooting all day and they could all probably agree that what they needed now was a nice long nap.

she moved over to where sunghoon was laying down and tapped the boy to ask him to scoot over so she could lay down as well.

the girl cuddled into sunghoons warmth.

“sooo, you and beomgyu, huh.”

“why? are you jealous?”

“maybe...but you know who is Very jealous right now? and who you should probably talk to bcs he’s definitely upset?”

her eyes widen, finally realizing.

“oh my god, i gotta go.”

she climbs out of sunghoon’s embrace.

“i was comfortable ellie!”

“yeah yeah!”

she runs out the dressing room, frantically searching for jungwon.

she accidentally bumps into beomgyu.

“woah there, where are you going???”

“i’m so sorry! uh- i have to go talk to jungwon about something, i can’t really stay for long...”

beomgyu nods his head and motions for her to go.

she finally finds jungwon at a vending machine, grabbing two drinks.

“yang!”

she finally reaches him and drops her body down to catch her breath.

“i’m so sorry.”

“about what?”

“sunghoon said you were upset with me about something...and i wan- (deep breath) i wanted you to know that no one will ever replace you or any (deep breath) any of the other members (deep breath).”

jungwon stays silent for a bit before chuckling at the sight of the girl’s state.

“oh ellie...” he gently makes her look up by her chin, “don’t worry about it, i knew you would never do that...i just got jealous seeing you blush at beomgyu so much...”

the last part was barely audible, but ellie understood.

she giggles, “i didn’t know mr. yang was the jealous type!”

he glares at her, “whatever.”

she smiles and hugs him by the neck.

“let’s go back, we’re heading home soon.”

ellie pulls jungwon by the hands.

“wait,” he fishes for the two drinks still left in the vending machine, “this is for you.”

it was strawberry milk, her favorite.

“thank you, kind sir.”

the two walked back hand in hand.

“is wonie feeling better~” heeseung teased.

jungwon mocks his face.

“time to head back!” their manager calls out.

“god i cannot wait to sleep.” ellie groans.

“ellie~ can i sleep next to you tonight?” ni-ki pleads with his eyes.

“why not sunoo?”

“he wanted to switch it up today, apparently.” sunoo clings his arms with ellie’s.

“i mean of course you can riki, just promise me you’ll actually sleep and not watch videos all night.” ellie stares at him.

“promise.”

she smiles and hooks her free arm around his.

“now...let’s go home.”

110 notes · View notes

svnflowervol666 · 4 years

Note

harry doing baby bubs hair in the bathroom while she’s facetiming mitch 🥺

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: This made my heart melt. It’s in a puddle on the floor right now. That’s all.

“Baby, ye’ gotta sit still,” Harry huffed as he resituated his daughter on the bathroom counter for probably the fifth time that morning.

She was normally a patient and well-behaved child despite her ripe age of three, but today she was really showing her age.

“Want mummy do it!” she whined, smacking her pudgy toes against the inside of the sink.

“I know ye’ want mummy t’ do it. I want mummy to do it too, but she had t’ go t’ work early. ‘S just me and you today.”

Harry reached for the spray bottle filled with water with his right hand while keeping a firm grasp on his daughter’s unruly head of curly hair with his left, determined to tame the frizzy strands that seemed to have run wild while she slept the night before. A ponytail shouldn’t be this fucking hard. Should it?

He spritzed the bottle a few inches away from her head, trying to smooth down the baby hairs that littered her hair line. And he almost had it. That was, until his daughter tucked her head downward in agitation and caused Harry to lose his grip and the poofy tufts of chocolate brown hair to fall once more around her forehead and ears.

A exaggerated (but not really, it was well-deserved) groan erupted from Harry’s chest, and a feeling of defeat washed over him. He rubbed his tired eyes with the knuckles on his fingers. It wasn’t a big deal and he knew that, but the fact that he couldn’t do his daughter’s hair was making him feel like a failure of a father.

“What’s it gonna take for ye’ to stop squirmin’, huh? Will ye’ just be good so daddy can do your hair and we can get ya t’ nana’s?”

She was getting restless now, the hard stone making her tiny bum ache and her attention span dwindle down to the point of non-existance.

“Daddy, I want dowwwwwn,” she fussed as she balled her hands into fists and hit them on her knees in protest.

“I’ve got t’ fix your hair, lovie. Can’t have it hangin’ in your eyes. Just be still for a few seconds. Ye’ know what? Here. Play with this.”

Harry fished his cell phone out of his back pocket and placed the sleek device in his child’s lap. He was normally against letting her mess with his phone in fear that she’d accidentally delete an important file or call one of the dozens of influential figures he had saved in his contacts, but at this point he’d do just about anything to make her stop moving so that he could put her damn hair up.

Her eyes seemed to light up when she realized what she now held in her possession, fingers moving quickly to unlock the screen and cause whatever damage her heart desired. It didn’t take her long to realize that unlike her mother’s, Harry’s phone was locked with a passcode and she was unable to get into it.

“Fix it, daddy!” she exclaimed, raising the phone over her shoulder while Harry had finally managed to regather her hair into a somewhat presentable bundle.

He cursed under his breath and let her curly mane go once more, then took the phone back from his daughter. It was unlocked and back in her arms in a few seconds flat, to which Harry’s millionth attempt at corraling the curls he undoubtedly passed down to her began.

In an instant, she’d forgotten all about how antsy she was, now busying herself by opening random apps that caught her eye and pressing random keys that meant absolutely nothing to her because she was a three year old that couldn’t read, but it didn’t deter her from thinking she was a proper adult doing adult things on her very own cell phone.

Harry let out a sigh of relief when she seemed completely content, reaching once more for the spray bottle to rewet the comb he had been using to smooth over his daughter’s scalp. She put up no fight when he pulled her hair taut against her head, almost as if she had forgotten he was even there as her pudgy fingers tapped away on the glass screen.

The silver lining was now in reach, the finish line only a handful of long strides away. He was satisfied with his work. Sure, there were a few lumps and bumps, but nothing his wife or mother would fuss over, so he raised his arm up to his mouth to pull the neon pink hair band from his wrist with his teeth. As fate would have it, just as he began securing her ponytail with the hair tie, the flimsy elastic snapped and shot to the floor, leaving the toddler’s hair in a bird’s nest on top of her head and Harry’s patience at it’s end.

“You’ve got t’ be bloody kiddin’ me,” Harry groaned, having to turn his body away from his daughter as if the fuse attached to his last nerve was going to implode at any second.

He was now certain that whatever higher power in the sky was planning his demise on this bright and sunny Tuesday morning.

With the last bit of his dignity, he knelt down to open the cabinets and rummage through the bin with all of his daughter’s clips and bows until he found another hair tie that would match the outfit he’d picked out for her to wear. He kept a firm hand on her back as he jumbled around the contents of the container, just in case she lost her balance and fell backwards off of the counter (she didn’t really need the extra reinforcement, but he’d not quite been able to shake the over-protective dad persona that he’d adopted whenever she was much smaller and prone to flinging herself backward without warning). There was no additional pink hair tie in sight, so he was forced to go with a bright green one that didn’t compliment what she was wearing in the slightest, but it was just nana’s house, so who gives a shit, he thought to himself.

As he was regaining his stance from where he was balanced on his haunches, he heard a deep voice that wasn’t his daughter’s echo off the walls of the master bathroom.

“Hey, man! What’s goin’ o-,” the voice, which Harry now recognized as his best friend’s came to an abrupt hault when the camera focused and the man was able to see who was actually facetiming him at seven o’clock in the morning.

“Oh. You’re not Harry,” he toyed, trying to amuse the tiny girl he’d known and loved since the minute she was born.

“Mitchy!” Harry’s daughter yelled directly into the speaker of the phone, causing Mitch to hold his own phone several inches away from where he had it resting on the arm of his sofa.

“Hello, princess. Where’s your dad?”

“Right here,” Harry interjected with a grunt as he willed the pain in his knees (and back) away.

“Sorry, she’s messin’ with m’ phone. Must’ve called you on accident.”

“No worries. ‘S a lovely surprise. What’re you two doin’? You on baby duty this mornin’?”

Mitch could see Harry messing with the toddler’s hair, a purple comb balanced in between his teeth and locks of wavy, brown hair slipping in and out of the frame as he gathered it on top of her head.

“Yep,” Harry spoke through the comb, “And it’s not goin’ s’ great.”

“Judgin’ by the look on your face, I’d say so.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“Mitchy!” Harry’s daughter called for him again as if to refocus the attention of this conversation back on herself.

“Yessss?”

“I see kitty?” her voice raising an octave as she asked to see the kitten he’d adopted a few months ago that she adored oh so much.

“Kitty’s sleepin’ with Sarah right now, bug. Can’t wake them or they’ll both be grumpy for the rest of the day. Why don’t you come over and visit and you can see all of us? We miss you,” Mitch pouted dramatically at the camera, making the small girl giggle in a way that made him smile right back at her.

He’d always been rather reserved, but had quite the soft spot for his close friend’s bub and couldn’t help but show her all of the affection that he could.

“Daddy, I go to Sarah’s house?” she jerked her head back to look at her father, whose life flashed before his eyes when the sudden movement almost caused his to drop her hair again.

Harry quickly turned her jaw back towards the mirror with his thumb to keep another disaster from occurring.

“Maybe later, petal. You’re going to nana’s today. Daddy and Mitch have to go t’ work.”

“You play songs?”

“Yeah. Gonna play some songs,” he laughed at his daughter’s earnest attempt at understanding what he did for a living.

“Are you bein’ good for ye’ dad?” Mitch asked, seeing Harry’s struggle and doing what he could to distract her while Harry smoothed the final lumps over her delicate head with the fine-toothed comb.

“Yeah, I bein’ good,” she gloated, flashing her tiny baby teeth.

“If that’s what ye’ want to call it,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

He wasn’t quiet enough for Mitch to not hear his snide comment, to which he let out a chuckle towards Harry.

“I take it you’ve got a bit of a fibber on your hands?” Mitch directed at Harry.

“No kiddin’,” Harry huffed, face concentrated on one stubborn tendril of hair that wouldn’t lay flat no matter how many times he brushed over it, “’Ve been trying to put her hair in a bloody ponytail for twenty minutes. I swear I’ve never seen a three year old with this much hair before in m’ life. Don’t know how her mum does this every mornin’.”

“’M afraid that hair’s all you, lover boy. Those curls are unmistakeable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Is your dad good at fixin’ your hair?” Mitch asked the toddler, knowing good and well he was giving leeway for Harry to be teased mercilessly by his ruthless toddler.

“No, I like mummy do my hair more. Daddy pulls it too much.”

“Listen here, you little monster. If ye’ would have sat still for two seconds, this would have been done ages ago and we could’ve been halfway t’ nana’s by now,” Harry stated very matter-of-factly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mitch intervened, “Take it easy, mate. She’s three. It can’t be that bad.”

“I would absolutely love to see you babysit her for twenty-four hours. You’d be choking on your words.”

“I’d love that, actually,” Mitch snided, “What d’ya say, princess? Sleepover at uncle Mitch’s house with Sarah and the kitty?”

The three year old cheered excitedly, her chubby cheeks widening on the sides of her face at the thought of spending time with her favorite people in the world (aside from her mum and dad, of course).

“No, no, no!” Harry yelled frantically, “Hold still. ‘M almost done.”

He quickly looped the brightly-colored elastic around her bunch of hair that he held tightly in his hand as if an imaginary stopwatch was about to go off and signal that he was out of time and he’d lose control of her curls once more, for which he’d certainly burst into tears.

“Aha!” he held his hands above his head in victory when he was satisfied with the number of times he’d wrapped the hair tie around her hair.

“Finally.”

Harry was breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon, making Mitch cheer him on sarcastically.

“Super dad does it again.”

“You’re not funny, Mitch.”

“‘M very funny, actually. Isn’t that right, bubs?”

“Uh-huh!” Harry’s daughter agreed, earning an eye roll from her father.

“Alright, we’re very late. Need t’ get goin’ before Jeff yells at daddy n’ I’m not sure I can handle much more today.”

Harry scooped up the pint-sized child from the sink by the belly and helped her stand, her hands still clasped around the phone surrounded in a baby pink case.

“See ye’ in a bit yeah?” Harry asked Mitch as he straightened his daughter’s shirt that had crinkled at the hem from sitting on the counter for so long.

“Yeah. Reckon it’s probably time to go wake Sarah. You be good for your dad and nana today. Alright, stinker butt?”

“I not stinky!” the girl cried, almost offended.

“You’re right. ‘M sorry. Your dad’s the stinky one.”

“Goodbyeeeeeeee, Mitch,” Harry sang monotonously into the speaker.

“Bye, Mitchy!” his daughter called after him.

“Bye, sweetheart. See ye’ at the sleepover.”

She began rattling off another excited spout of words, but was cut off as Harry reached down and pressed the red button on the screen, ending the call. He took the phone from her hands and slid it back into his pocket. His daughter was too busy buzzing from the high of being invited over to Mitch’s house to play with his kitten to throw a fit over being deprived of it, to which Harry was thankful.

“Did ye’ put your bunny in your backpack?”

She nodded her head, yes.

“And your blanket?”

She paused, lips pursing as she tried to recall whether or not she stuffed the worn, yet still comforting wad of fabric that she’s had since she was born into her bag.

“Better go check then,” Harry added, watching her as she booked it down the hall towards her room as if she was in a race against herself to make it there.

“Got it!” her tiny voice came trailing back into Harry’s bedroom, the corners of the blanket sticking out from the giant backpack that was nearly the size of her body strapped to her back.

The sight of her wobbling back into his line of sight with the oversized bag made him want to cry. She was still so tiny, but where had his sweet baby gone?

“Good gir-” he began to praise her before he realized what he was currently looking at.

In the midst of her running, she must have exerted herself a bit too harshly, for her curls that were styled perfectly just minutes ago were floofed around her head in a (not-so angelic) halo and the hair tie had slipped down dangerously low, mere inches from falling completely out.

Her inherited curls were one of the cutest things about her and anyone with even the worst vision would agree. But, god. At what cost?

“-YOUR HAIR!”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #dad!harry #dad!harry x reader #asks

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years

Text

IOTA Reviews: Furious Fu

Well, I'm surprised this is here so quickly, but here we are. The first episode of Season 4. While I was on the fence about reviewing it even though it isn't in English (though there’s one in Spanish with English subtitles), but it seems like there are people that want to see me do it anyway, so who am I to let them down? Hopefully, I won't be regretting my decision to go over every episode of this season later on.

Will Marinette's new position as Guardian lead to more storylines other than her suffering? Will the show actually resolve the whole Love Square debacle this season? Why am I asking you all these questions?

Let's dive right into the first (actually sixth because of course it is) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season, Furious Fu.

We start off with all of the Kwamis under Marinette's care asking to see Former Master by Default Fu, before Marinette reminds them, and by extension, the audience, that he erased his memory during the events of last season, making her the new Guardian. They continue to act like hyperactive children until Marinette finally caves in and carries them in her backpack, although not before they give us one of the most unintentionally creepy images in the entire show.

I apologize in advance for your nightmares tonight.

The only Kwami who stays is the Dog Kwami, Barkk, who looks like she's going to see if Marinette's parents have any wine in the kitchen once she leaves.

Marinette heads down to the train station, where she meets up with Fu and Marianne, a former confidant/old flame who he recently reunited with. It turns out that inbetween Seasons 3 and 4, not only has Fu been living in London with Marianne while taking up painting as a hobby, but they've actually gotten married. So yeah, while Marinette has to deal with the stress of protecting some of the most dangerous artifacts on the planet, Fu's just been chilling in London, oblivious to the fact that he forced a teenage girl to do his job for him. Nothing but the best from this show's wise and lovable “mentor”.

After heading back home, Marinette sees a strange man who has broken into her room and demands to know where she got the Miracle Box from.

This is Master Su-Han, the former Guardians before Fu accidentally killed them all. He's naturally not happy with the “improper” form of the Miracle Box (he's not the only one) and wants to know how Marinette got in in the first place. When she says she got it from Fu...

Yeah... while it isn't as obvious as “Animaestro” and “Felix”, you can kind of tell that this is a “turn the critics into enemies” episode. Even though the criticism towards Master Fu isn't as prevalent as the criticism those episodes were meant to call out, there have been some fans on Tumblr and Reddit who have criticized Fu's actions in the show, calling out his decision to make Marinette a guardian in particular. Likewise, Su-Han is meant to be a strawman to mirror the complaints, and show why they are ridiculous. Though ironically, Su-Han's dialogue and rules also unintentionally highlight how incompetent the Order of the Guardians was, but we'll get to it later.

But because the script says she has to, Marinette defends Fu's decision to make her Guardian. She even refers to Fu being the reason the Guardians were all killed in the first place as a “mistake”.

NO HE DIDN'T! How was what Fu did in any way a sacrifice? When he made Marinette the new Guardian “Miracle Queen”, All Fu really did was make the box float for a bit before it immediately landed back in Chloe's hands. If the box had magically floated over to Ladybug in the process, I'd see why Fu would have done it. It'd still be reckless, but it would be a good way to escape from Hawkmoth and Mayura's trap. Hell, the Kwamis had already refused to let Chloe transform when she had their Miraculous, so there was no real threat there. We don't even know if Hawkmoth knew how to transform with the other Miraculous. So again, I raise the question: How was Fu forcing Ladybug to take his job while he gets to paint in London a heroic sacrifice? How can you even frame that as anything but cowardly?

Su-Han notices a few of the Kwamis are missing, and takes notice of Plagg, who was shown to devastate Paris with a single tap to the ground, being missing in particular. He's even more horrified to see Marinette's earrings, because, get this, Guardians aren't allowed to wear Miraculous.

You're telling me that if someone gets their hands on a Miraculous and goes rogue, the Guardians are supposed to fight them with their bare hands? They don't even explain it by saying something like how the Guardians aren't supposed to be tempted by the power of the Miraculous, we're just supposed to accept that rule as fact. How are you supposed to fight someone with superpowers like illusions, shapeshifting, teleportation, and time travel on your own?

So Su-Han orders the Kwamis back into the Miracle Box (still don't get why they have to listen to him) and lists off some of the rules Marinette broke like he was a Ferengi reading the Rules of Acquisition. He does all of this while voicing several concerns fans have about Marinette being Guardian, but rather than being out of concern or compassion for her, it's condescension.

It's pretty easy to understand Su-Han's side of the story, and if the episode actually acknowledged it, I wouldn't mind. But no, everything he says is automatically supposed to be wrong, because when has anything with a different viewpoint portrayed as a good guy in this show?

Su-Han orders Ladybug to take him to see Cat Noir before demanding they both hand over their Miraculous, and we learn something interesting about the Order of the Guardians.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?

Of all the stupid Guardian rules Master Fuckup didn't blindly follow, it's the rule that Miraculous are ONLY SUPPOSED TO GO TO ADULTS!? Why the hell did he even recruit Marinette and Adrien in the first place if Miraculous for adults to use? What did he even see in them? All they did was help him once!

And again, we're supposed to see Su-Han as wrong for doing this. Why can't Ladybug simply tell Su-Han about Hawkmoth and ask for his help before she returns her Miraculous to him? That way, Hawkmoth is defeated, and Su-Han gets the Miraculous back. And it's not like Ladybug doesn't try to talk things out with Su-Han, so you can't say she didn't consider it. Oh wait, that would imply Su-Han is supposed to have a point in his claims.

Though to the show's credit, Su-Han's words do get to Ladybug, causing herself to doubt herself and her ability to stop Hawkmoth, but Cat Noir helps to reassure her, saying he'll only return his Miraculous only if she asks him to. It's a brief moment, but it's nice to see him place his faith in his partner in a platonic way.

Less nice to see is Cat Noir finding out that if Ladybug gives up her position as Guardian, she'll lose her memory like Fu. Except... Cat Noir was there when Miraculous Ladybug failed to restore Fu's memory, so why does he see this as new information? Did he only think it would happen to Fu? Did he lose some of his memory at the end of the last season?

This information is enough for Cat Noir to start a fight with Su-Han, with Ladybug abandoning any attempts at diplomacy by declaring that Cat Noir won't lose his Miraculous. It's a little frustrating to see them engage Su-Han, but again, this is meant to show Cat Noir trying to protect Ladybug so she doesn't lose her memory. This scene still does a good job showcasing the bond the two heroes have. It's far better than anything we got from the New York special.

Su-Han is trained in... Oh God... Mirakung-Fu, which somehow gives him the ability to predict Ladybug and Cat Noir's moves before they make them, comparing it to his rage “adaptating and always finding a way”. Translation: Astruc ripped off something else from Dragon Ball, Ultra Instinct. Ladybug distracts Su-Han and gets the Miracle Box, while Cat Noir gets his staff. After briefly trapping him under some rubble (which I guess doesn't kill him because of his “Mirakung-Fu”), the two heroes escape.

Meanwhile, Shadowmoth, the upgraded form of Hawkmoth that I'll talk about in his debut proper, senses Su-Han's negative emotions and sends out an Akuma after him. Su-Han sees Fu painting in the park, and steals his cane, thinking it's a Guardian's staff he can sue to track down the Miraculous. When the Akuma reaches him, Su-Han uses a technique to repel the Akuma completely. I like this idea. It makes sense that a monk would find a way to mask their emotions and achieve enough of a state of zen to ward off an Akuma. The Akuma instead reaches Fu, turning him into Furious Fu.

I like the design of this Akuma. While I personally thought it could have made for a more interesting fight if he was still short (like Yoda's fight scenes in the prequels), I think it's really clever to incorporate Fu's Hawaiian shirt into what looks like a Chinese gi. Furious Fu's powers are kind of like Evilustrator, only he has to draw down a Chinese character on a talisman before the power takes immediate effect, and lacks the weakness Evilustrator had with his tablet being easily breakable, with the corrupted object, a paintbrush on his ear, being harder to reach.

Ladybug and Cat Noir retreat to the unnamed stadium that the local school has gym class in for some reason, where they're confronted by Su-Han, who in turn, is confronted by Furious Fu. This leads to a three-way fight for the Miracle Box, which they all kick around like a soccer ball. Cat Noir even gets a goal. All around, pretty fun bit, though not for the Kwamis, I guess.

As soon as he sees Furious Fu get the Miracle Ball, Su-Han hides while Ladybug and Cat Noir get beat up by the Akuma. While he does get up eventually, he's still taken out by Furious Fu. Apparently, Su-Han's “Mirakung-Fu” is only useful against Miraculous holders, not supervillains created with the powers of a Miraculous. How the hell does that work? That's like being a trained soldier in the Marine Corps who's terrible at laser tag.

Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm (again, I'll talk about the suit change for its proper debut episode), and gets a pair of wire cutters. She uses them go get a soccer ball from a nearby container while Cat Noir keeps Furious Fu busy. Furious Fu, in turn, uses one of his talismans to predict Ladybug's plan, and manages to immobilize both heroes, but not before Ladybug traps the soccer ball underneath Cat Noir's arm before Furious Fu can use his Cataclysm against him.

How do they stop him? By having Marianne casually walk up to him and break the paintbrush while he's distracted. Honestly, that's a pretty funny payoff. Not “Puppeteer” or “Bakerix” funny, but it's still one of the funnier Akuma defeats I've seen. Another funny joke is Cat Noir using his Cataclysm on a soccer ball before he accidentally uses it on Ladybug and Marianne for their post-victory fist bump.

Later on, after Marinette sees Marianne and Fu off while the latter continues to avoid responsibility, Su-Han apologizes to her, and decides to trust her. He'll still take away the Miracle Box if she screws up, but it's a start to someone Marinette can at least consult Guardian to Guardian.

And honestly? I think this episode is a pretty good start to Season 4. It really feels like the writers are learning from their mistakes in Season 3.

Yes, Marinette is blamed by Su-Han, and while it is frustrating to turn Su-Han into a strawman, unlike other Season 3 episodes where Marinette is blamed, the blame itself is unwarranted, and by the end of the episode, it looks like Su-Han is willing to change, as he apologizes to Fu after he's de-evilized. That's a lot more than I can say for Astruc's other straw characters like Chloe and Felix. Sure, some of Su-Han's concerns are brushed off, but it's still a start.

From what little we saw of him, Cat Noir is also a lot better, really showing the character development promised towards the end of “Miracle Queen”. He's thankfully turned down the flirting, and I can only hope he keeps his promise as the season goes on. I hope we get an episode or two showing his perspective on Ladybug becoming Guardian, and how he feels less like her actual partner now. You know, something that can reinforce their bond as partners.

My biggest complaints from the episode really come from the way Fu is portrayed, and even then, it's only because of events that happen because of what he did last season and how much of a screw-up he is, despite the narrative trying to tell the audience he isn't. Then there's the revelation that Fu's cane has the ability to track down Miraculous. So... we're seriously learning this now? Why didn't Fu use it earlier to look for the two missing Miraculous? He literally has a Miraculous detector! But hopefully, the consequences of Fu's actions won't affect this season too much.

So yeah, I'm actually feeling pretty optimistic about this season so far. Maybe Season 4 won't be that bad after all.

Oh.

Oh no...

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grigori77 · 3 years

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2020 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 3)

10. WOLFWALKERS – eleven years ago, Irish director Tomm Moore exploded onto the animated cinema scene with The Secret of Kells, a spellbinding feature debut which captivated audiences the world over and even garnered an Oscar nomination. Admittedly I didn’t actually even know about it until I discovered his work through his astonishing follow-up, Song of the Sea (another Academy Award nominee), in 2015, so when I finally caught it I was already a fan of Moore’s work. It’s been a similarly long wait for his third feature, but he’s genuinely pulled off a hat-trick, delivering a third flawless film in a row which OF COURSE means that his latest feature is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, my top animated feature of 2020. I could even be tempted to say it’s his best work to date … this is an ASTONISHING film, a work of such breath-taking, spell-binding beauty that I spent its entire hour and three-quarters glued to the screen, simple mesmerised by the wonder and majesty of this latest iteration of the characteristically stylised “Cartoon Saloon” look. It’s also liberally steeped in Moore’s trademark Celtic vibe and atmosphere, once again delving deep into his homeland’s rich and evocative cultural history and mythology while also bringing us something far more original and personal – this time the titular supernatural beings are magical near-human beings whose own subconscious can assume the form of very real wolves. Set in a particularly dark time in Irish history – namely 1650, when Oliver Cromwell was Lord Protector – the story follows Robyn (Honor Kneafsey, probably best known for the Christmas Prince films), the impetuous and spirited young daughter of English hunter Bill Goodfellowe (Sean Bean), brought in by the Protectorate to rid the city of Kilkenny of the wolves plaguing the area. One day fate intervenes and Robyn meets Mebh Og MacTire (The Girl at the End of the Garden‘s Eve Whittaker), a wild girl living in the woods, whose accidental bite gives her strange dreams in which she becomes a wolf – turns out Mebh is a wolfwalker, and now so is Robyn … every aspect of this film is an utter triumph for Moore and co, who have crafted a work of living, breathing cinematic art that’s easily the equal to (if not even better than) the best that Disney, Dreamworks or any of the other animation studios could create. Then there’s the excellent voice cast – Bean brings fatherly warmth and compassion to the role that belies his character’s intimidating size, while Kneafsey and Whittaker make for a sweet and sassy pair as they bond in spite of powerful cultural differences, and the masterful Simon McBurney (Harry Potter, Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy) brings cool, understated menace to the role of Cromwell himself. This is a film with plenty of emotional heft to go with its marvels, and once again displays the welcome dark side which added particular spice to Moore’s previous films, but ultimately this is still a gentle and heartfelt work of wonder that makes for equally suitable viewing for children as for those who are still kids at heart – ultimately, then, this is another triumph for one of the most singularly original filmmakers working in animation today, and if Wolfwalkers doesn’t make it third time lucky come Oscars-time then there’s no justice in the world …

9. WONDER WOMAN 1984 – probably the biggest change for 2020 compared to pretty much all of the past decade is how different the fortunes of superhero cinema turned out to be. A year earlier the Marvel Cinematic Universe had dominated all, but the DC Extended Universe still got a good hit in with big surprise hit Shazam! Fast-forward to now and things are VERY different – DC suddenly came out in the lead, but only because Marvel’s intended heavy-hitters (two MCU movies, the first Venom sequel and potential hot-shit new franchise starter Morbius: the Living Vampire) found themselves continuously pushed back thanks to (back then) unforeseen circumstances which continue to shit all over our theatre-going slate for the immediate future. In the end DC’s only SERIOUS competition turned out to be NETFLIX … never mind, at least we got ONE big established superhero blockbuster into the cinemas before the end of the year that the whole family could enjoy, and who better to headline it than DC’s “newest” big screen megastar, Diana Prince? Back in 2017 Monster’s Ball director Patty Jenkins’ monumental DCEU standalone spectacularly realigned the trajectory of a cinematic franchise that was visibly flagging, redesigning the template for the series’ future which has since led to some (mostly) consistently impressive subsequent offerings. Needless to say it was a damn tough act to follow, but Jenkins and co-writers Geoff Johns (Arrow and The Flash) and David Callaham (The Expendables, Zombieland: Double Tap, future MCU entry Shang-Chi & the Legend of the Ten Rings) have risen to the challenge in fine style, delivering something which pretty much equals that spectacular franchise debut … as has Gal Gadot, who’s now OFFICIALLY made the role her own thanks to yet another showstopping and definitive performance as the unstoppable Amazonian goddess living amongst us. She’s older and wiser than in the first film, but still hasn’t lost that forthright honesty and wonderfully pure heart we’ve come to love ever since her introduction in Zack Snyder’s troublesome but ultimately underrated Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice (yes, that’s right, I said it!), and Gadot’s clear, overwhelming commitment to the role continues to pay off magnificently as she once again proves that Diana is THE VERY BEST superhero in the DCEU cinematic pantheon. Although it takes place several decades after its predecessor, WW84 is, obviously, still very much a period piece, Jenkins and co this time perfectly capturing the sheer opulent and over-the-top tastelessness of the 1980s in all its big-haired, bad-suited, oversized shoulder-padded glory while telling a story that encapsulates the greedy excessiveness of the Reagan era, perfectly embodied in the film’s nominal villain, Max Lord (The Mandalorian himself, Pedro Pascal), a wishy-washy wannabe oil tycoon conman who chances upon a supercharged wish-rock and unleashes a devastating supernatural “monkey’s paw” upon the world. To say any more would give away a whole raft of spectacular twists and turns that deserve to be enjoyed good and cold, although they did spoil one major surprise in the trailer when they teased the return of Diana’s first love, Steve Trevor (Chris Pine) … needless to say this is another big blockbuster bursting with big characters, big action and BIG IDEAS, just what we’ve come to expect after Wonder Woman’s first triumphant big screen adventure. Interestingly, the film starts out feeling like it’s going to be a bubbly, light, frothy affair – after a particularly stunning all-action opening flashback to Diana’s childhood on Themyscira, the film proper kicks off with a bright and breezy atmosphere that feels a bit like the kind of Saturday morning cartoon action the consistently impressive set-pieces take such unfettered joy in parodying, but as the stakes are raised the tone grows darker and more emotionally potent, the storm clouds gathering for a spectacularly epic climax that, for once, doesn’t feel too overblown or weighed down by its visual effects, while the intelligent script has unfathomable hidden depths to it, making us think far more than these kinds of blockbusters usually do. It’s really great to see Chris Pine return since he was one of the best things about the first movie, and his lovably childlike wide-eyed wonder at this brave new world perfectly echoes Diana’s own last time round; Kristen Wiig, meanwhile, is pretty phenomenal throughout as Dr Barbara Minerva, the initially geeky and timid nerd who discovers an impressive inner strength but ultimately turns into a superpowered apex predator as she becomes one of Wonder Woman’s most infamous foes, the Cheetah; Pascal, of course, is clearly having the time of his life hamming it up to the hilt as Lord, playing gloriously against his effortlessly cool, charismatic action hero image to deliver a compellingly troubling examination of the monstrous corrupting influence of absolute power. Once again, though, the film truly belongs to Gadot – she looks amazing, acts her socks off magnificently, and totally rules the movie. After this, a second sequel is a no-brainer, because Wonder Woman remains the one DC superhero who’s truly capable of bearing the weight of this particular cinematic franchise on her powerful shoulders – needless to say, it’s already been greenlit, and with both Jenkins and Gadot onboard, I’m happy to sign up for more too …

8. LOVE & MONSTERS – with the cinemas continuing their frustrating habit of opening for a little while and then closing while the pandemic ebbed and flowed in the months after the summer season, it was starting to look like there might not have been ANY big budget blockbusters to enjoy before year’s end as heavyweights like Black Widow, No Time To Die and Dune pulled back to potentially more certain release slots into 2021 (with only WW84 remaining stubbornly in place for Christmas). Then Paramount decided to throw us a bone, opting to release this post-apocalyptic horror comedy on-demand in October instead, thus giving me the perfect little present to tie me over during the darkening days of autumn. The end result was a stone-cold gem that came out of nowhere to completely blow critics away, a spectacular sleeper hit that ultimately proved one of the year’s biggest and most brilliant surprises. Director Michael Matthews may only have had South African indie thriller Five Fingers for Marseilles under his belt prior to this, but he proves he’s definitely a solid talent to watch in the future, crafting a fun and effective thrill-ride that, like all the best horror comedies, is consistently as funny as it is scary, sharing much of the same DNA as this particular mash-up genre’s classics like Tremors and Zombieland and standing up impressively well to such comparisons. The story, penned by rising star Brian Duffield (who has TWO other entries on this list, Underwater and Spontaneous) and Matthew Robinson (The Invention of Lying, Dora & the Lost City of Gold), is also pretty ingenious and surprisingly original – a meteorite strike has unleashed weird mutagenic pathogens that warp various creepy crawly critters into gigantic monstrosities that have slaughter most of the world’s human population, leaving only a beleaguered, dwindling few to eke out a precarious living in underground colonies. Living in one such makeshift community is Joel Dawson (The Maze Runner’s Dylan O’Brien), a smart and likeable geek who really isn’t very adventurous, is extremely awkward and uncoordinated, and has a problem with freezing if threatened … which makes it all the more inexplicable when he decides, entirely against the advice of everyone he knows, to venture onto the surface so he can make the incredibly dangerous week-long trek to the neighbouring colony where his girlfriend Aimee (Iron Fist’s Jessica Henwick) has ended up. Joel is, without a doubt, the best role that O’Brien has EVER had, a total dork who’s completely unsuited to this kind of adventure and, in the real world, sure to be eaten alive in the first five minutes, but he’s also such a fantastically believable, fallible everyman that every one of us desperate, pathetic omega-males and females can instantly put ourselves in his place, making it elementarily easy to root for him. He’s also hilariously funny, his winningly self-deprecating sass and pitch perfect talent for physical comedy making it all the more rewarding watching each gloriously anarchic life-and-death encounter mould him into the year’s most unlikely action hero. Henwick, meanwhile, once again impresses in a well-written role where she’s able to make a big impression despite her decidedly short screen time, as do the legendary Michael Rooker and brilliant newcomer Ariana Greenblatt as Clyde and Minnow, the adorably jaded, seen-it-all-before pair of “professional survivors” Joel meets en-route, who teach him to survive on the surface. The action is fast, frenetic and potently visceral, the impressively realistic digital creature effects bringing a motley crew of bloodthirsty beasties to suitably blood-curdling life for the film’s consistently terrifying set-pieces, while the world-building is intricately thought-out and skilfully executed. Altogether, this was an absolute joy from start to finish, and a film I enthusiastically endorsed to everyone I knew was looking for something fun to enjoy during the frustrating lockdown nights-in. One of the cinematic year’s best kept secrets then, and a compelling sign of things to come for its up-and-coming director.

7. PARASITE – I’ve been a fan of master Korean filmmaker Bong Joon-ho ever since I stumbled across his deeply weird but also thoroughly brilliant breakthrough feature The Host, and it’s a love that’s deepened since thanks to truly magnificent sci-fi actioner Snowpiercer, so I was looking forward to his latest feature as much as any movie geek, but even I wasn’t prepared for just what a runaway juggernaut of a hit this one turned out to be, from the insane box office to all that award-season glory (especially that undeniable clean-sweep at the Oscars). I’ll just come out and say it, this film deserves it all. It’s EASILY Bong’s best film to date (which is really saying something), a masterful social satire and jet black comedy that raises some genuinely intriguing questions before delivering deeply troubling answers. Straddling the ever-widening gulf between a disaffected idle rich upper class and impoverished, struggling lower class in modern-day Seoul, it tells the story of the Kim family – father Ki-taek (Bong’s good luck charm, Song Kang-ho), mother Chung-sook (Jang Hye-jin), son Ki-woo (Train to Busan’s Choi Woo-shik) and daughter Ki-jung (The Silenced’s Park So-dam) – a poor family living in a run-down basement apartment who live hand-to-mouth in minimum wage jobs and can barely rub two pennies together, until they’re presented with an intriguing opportunity. Through happy chance, Ki-woon is hired as an English tutor for Park Da-hye (Jung Ji-so), the daughter of a wealthy family, which offers him the chance to recommend Ki-jung as an art tutor to the Parks’ troubled young son, Da-song (Jung Hyeon-jun). Soon the rest of the Kims are getting in on the act, the kids contriving opportunities for their father to replace Mr Park’s chauffeur and their mother to oust the family’s long-serving housekeeper, Gook Moon-gwang (Lee Jung-eun), and before long their situation has improved dramatically. But as they two families become more deeply entwined, cracks begin to show in their supposed blissful harmony as the natural prejudices of their respective classes start to take hold, and as events spiral out of control a terrible confrontation looms on the horizon. This is social commentary at its most scathing, Bong drawing on personal experiences from his youth to inform the razor-sharp script (co-written by his production assistant Han Jin-won), while he weaves a palpable atmosphere of knife-edged tension throughout to add spice to the perfectly observed dark humour of the situation, all the while throwing intriguing twists and turns at us before suddenly dropping such a massive jaw-dropper of a gear-change that the film completely turns on its head to stunning effect. The cast are all thoroughly astounding, Song once again dominating the film with a turn at once sloppy and dishevelled but also poignant and heartfelt, while there are particularly noteworthy turns from Lee Sun-kyun as the Parks’ self-absorbed patriarch Dong-ik and Choi Yeo-jeong (The Concubine) as his flighty, easily-led wife Choi Yeon-gyo, as well as a fantastically weird appearance in the latter half from Park Myung-hoon. This is heady stuff, dangerously seductive even as it becomes increasingly uncomfortable viewing, so that even as the screws tighten and everything goes to hell it’s simply impossible to look away. Bong Joon-ho really has surpassed himself this time, delivering an existential mind-scrambler that lingers long after the credits have rolled and might even have you questioning your place in society once you’ve thought about it some. It deserves every single award and every ounce of praise it’s been lavished with, and looks set to go down as one of the true cinematic greats of this new decade. Trust me, if this was a purely critical best-of list it’d be RIGHT AT THE TOP …

6. THE OLD GUARD – Netflix’ undisputable TOP OFFERING of the summer came damn close to bagging the whole season, and I can’t help thinking that even if some of the stiffer competition had still been present it may well have still finished this high. Gina Prince-Blythewood (Love & Basketball, the Secret Life of Bees) directs comics legend Greg Rucka’s adaptation of his own popular series with uncanny skill and laser-focused visual flair considering there’s nothing on her previous CV to suggest she’d be THIS good at mounting a stomping great ultraviolent action thriller, ushering in a thoroughly engrossing tale of four ancient, invulnerable immortal warriors – Andy AKA Andromache of Scythia (Charlize Theron), Booker AKA Sebastian de Livre (Matthias Schoenaerts), Joe AKA Yusuf Al-Kaysani (Wolf’s Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky AKA Niccolo di Ginova (Trust’s Luca Marinelli) – who’ve been around forever, hiring out their services as mercenaries for righteous causes while jealously guarding their identities for fear of horrific experimentation and exploitation should their true natures ever be discovered. Their anonymity is threatened, however, when they’re uncovered by former CIA operative James Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), who’s working for the decidedly dodgy pharmaceutical conglomerate run by sociopathic billionaire Steven Merrick (Harry Melling, formerly Dudley in the Harry Potter movies), who want to capture these immortals so they can patent whatever it is that makes them keep on ticking … just as a fifth immortal, US Marine Nile Freeman (If Beale Street Could Talk’s KiKi Layne), awakens after being “killed” on deployment in Afghanistan. The supporting players are excellent, particularly Ejiofor, smart and driven but ultimately principled and deeply conflicted about what he’s doing, even if he does have the best of intentions, and Melling, the kind of loathsome, reptilian scumbag you just love to hate, but the film REALLY DOES belong to the Old Guard themselves – Schoenaerts is a master brooder, spot-on casting as the group’s relative newcomer, only immortal since the Napoleonic Wars but clearly one seriously old soul who’s already VERY tired of the lifestyle, while Joe and Nicky (who met on opposing sides of the Crusades) are simply ADORABLE, an unapologetically matter-of-fact gay couple who are sweet, sassy and incredibly kind, the absolute emotional heart of the film; it’s the ladies, however, that are most memorable here. Layne is exceptional, investing Nile with a steely intensity that puts her in good stead as her new existence threatens to overwhelm her and MORE THAN qualified to bust heads alongside her elders … but it’s ancient Greek warrior Andy who steals the film, Theron building on the astounding work she did in Atomic Blonde to prove, once and for all, that there’s no woman on Earth who looks better kicking arse than her (as Booker puts it, “that woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn”); in her hands, Andy truly is a goddess of death, tough as tungsten alloy and unflappable even in the face of hell itself, but underneath it all she hides a heart as big as any of her friends’. They’re an impossibly lovable bunch and you feel you could follow them on another TEN adventures like this one, which is just as well, because Prince-Blythewood and Rucka certainly put them through their paces here – the drama is high (but frequently laced with a gentle, knowing sense of humour, particularly whenever Joe and Nicky are onscreen), as are the stakes, and the frequent action sequences are top-notch, executed with rare skill and bone-crunching zest, but also ALWAYS in service to the story. Altogether this is an astounding film, a genuine victory for its makers and, it seems, for Netflix themselves – it’s become one of the platform’s biggest hits to date, earning well-deserved critical acclaim and great respect and genuine geek love from the fanbase at large. After this, a sequel is not only inevitable, it’s ESSENTIAL …

5. MANK – it’s always nice when David Fincher, one of my TOP FIVE ALL TIME FAVOURITE DIRECTORS, drops a new movie, because it can be GUARANTEED to place good and high in my rundown for that year. The man is a frickin’ GENIUS, a true master of the craft, genuinely one of the auteur’s auteurs. I’ve NEVER seen him deliver a bad film – even a misfiring Fincher (see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button or Alien 3) is still capable of creating GREAT CINEMA. How? Why? It’s because he genuinely LOVES the art form, it’s been his obsession all his life, and he’s spent every day of it becoming the best possible filmmaker he can be. Who better to tell the story of the creation of one of the ULTIMATE cinematic masterpieces, then? Benjamin Ross’ acclaimed biopic RKO 281 covered similar ground, presenting a compelling look into the making Citizen Kane, the timeless masterpiece of Hollywood’s ULTIMATE auteur, Orson Welles, but Fincher’s film is more interested in the original inspiration for the story, how it was written and, most importantly, the man who wrote it – Herman J. Mankiewicz, known to his friends as Mank. One of my favourite actors of all time, Gary Oldman, delivers yet another of his career best performances in the lead role, once a man of vision and incredible storytelling skill whose talents have largely been squandered through professional difficulties and personal vices, a burned out one-time great fallen on hard times whom Welles picks up out of the trash, dusts off and offers a chance to create something truly great again. The only catch? The subject of their film (albeit dressed up in the guise of fictional newspaper magnate Charles Foster Kane) is to be real-life publisher, politico and tycoon William Randolph Hurst (Charles Dance), once Mank’s friend and patron before they had a very public and messy falling out which partly led to his current circumstances. As he toils away in seclusion on what is destined to become his true masterwork, flashbacks reveal to us the fascinating, moving and ultimately tragic tale of his rise and fall from grace in the movie business, set against the backdrop of one of the most tumultuous periods in American history. Shooting a script that his own journalist and screenwriter father, Jack, crafted and then failed to bring to the screen himself before his death in 2003, Fincher has been working for almost a quarter century to make this film, and all that passion and drive is writ large on the screen – this is a glorious film ABOUT film, the art of it, the creation of it, and all the dirty little secrets of what the industry itself has always really been like, especially in that most glamorous and illusory of times. The fact that Fincher shot in black and white and intentionally made it look like it was made in the early 1940s (the “golden age of the Silver Screen”, if you will) may seem like a gimmick, but instead it’s a very shrewd choice that expertly captures the gloss and moodiness of the age, almost looking like a contemporary companion piece to Kane itself, and it’s the perfect way to frame all the sharp-witted observation, subtly subversive character development and murky behind-the-scenes machinations that tell the story. Oldman is in every way the star here, holding the screen with all the consummate skill and flair we’ve come to expect from him, but there’s no denying the uniformly excellent supporting cast are equal to the task here – Dance is at his regal, charismatic best as Hearst, while Amanda Seyfried is icily classy on the surface but mischievous and lovably grounded underneath as Hearst’s mistress, Marion Davies, who formed the basis for Kane’s most controversial character, Arliss Howard (Full Metal Jacket, The Lost World: Jurassic Park, Moneyball) brings nuance and complexity to the role of MGM founder Louis B. Mayer, Tom Pelphrey (Banshee, Ozark) is understated but compelling as Mank’s younger screenwriter brother Joseph, and Lily Collins and Tuppence Middleton exude class and long-suffering stubbornness as the two main women in Mank’s life (his secretary and platonic muse, Rita Alexander, and his wife, Sara), while The Musketeers’ Tom Burke’s periodic but potent appearances as Orson Welles help to drive the story in the “present”. Another Netflix release which I was (thankfully) able to catch on the big screen during one of the brief lulls between British lockdowns, this was a decidedly meta cinematic experience that perfectly encapsulated not only what is truly required for the creation of a screen epic, but also the latest pinnacle in the career of one of the greatest filmmakers working in the business today, powerful, stirring, intriguing and surprising in equal measure. Certainly it’s one of the most important films ABOUT so far film this century, but is it as good as Citizen Kane? Boy, that’s a tough one …

4. ENOLA HOLMES – ultimately, my top film for the autumn/winter movie season was also the film which finally topped my Netflix Original features list, as well as beating all other streaming offerings for the entire year (which is saying something, as you should know by now). Had things been different, this would have been one of Warner Bros’ BIGGEST releases for the year in the cinema, of that I have no doubt, a surprise sleeper hit which would have taken the world by storm – as it is it’s STILL become a sensation, albeit in a much more mid-pandemic, lockdown home-viewing kind of way. Before you start crying oh God no, not another Sherlock Holmes adaptation, this is a very different beast from either the Guy Ritchie take or the modernized BBC show, instead side-lining the great literary sleuth in favour of a delicious new AU version, based on The Case of the Missing Marquess, the first novel in the Enola Holmes Mysteries literary series from American YA author Nancy Springer. Positing that Sherlock Holmes (Henry Cavill) and his elder brother Mycroft (Sam Claflin) had an equally ingenious and precocious baby sister, the film introduces us to Enola (Stranger Things’ Millie Bobby Brown), who’s been raised at home by their strong-willed mother Eudoria (Helena Bonham Carter) to be just as intelligent, well-read and intellectually skilled as her far more advantageously masculine elder siblings. Then, on the morning of her sixteenth birthday, Enola awakens to find her mother has vanished, putting her in a pretty pickle since this leaves her a ward of Mycroft, a self-absorbed social peacock who finds her to be wilfully free-spirited and completely ill equipped to face the world, concluding that the only solution is sending her to boarding school where she’ll learn to become a proper lady. Needless to say she’s horrified by the prospect, deciding to run away and search for her mother instead … this is about as perfect a family adventure film as you could wish for, following a vital, capable and compelling teen detective-in-the-making as she embarks on her very first investigation, as well as winding up tangled in a second to boot involving a young runaway noble, Viscount Tewkesbury, the Marquess of Basilwether (Medici’s Louis Partridge), and the film is a breezy, swift-paced and rewardingly entertaining romp that feels like a welcome breath of fresh air for a literary property which, beloved as it may be, has been adapted to death over the years. Enola Holmes a brilliant young hero who’s perfectly crafted to carry the franchise forward in fresh new directions, and Brown brings her to life with effervescent charm, boisterous energy and mischievous irreverence that are entirely irresistible; Cavill and Claflin, meanwhile, are perfectly cast as the two very different brothers – this Sherlock is much less louche and world-weary than most previous versions, still razor sharp and intellectually restless but with a comfortable ease and a youthful spring in his step that perfectly suits the actor, while Mycroft is as superior and arrogant as ever, a preening arse we derive huge enjoyment watching Enola consistently get the best of; Bonham Carter doesn’t get a lot of screen-time but as we’d expect she does a lot with what she has to make the practical, eccentric and unapologetically modern Eudoria thoroughly memorable, while Partridge is carefree and likeable as the naïve but irresistible Tewkesbury, and there are strong supporting turns from Frances de la Tour as his stately grandmother, the Dowager, Susie Wokoma (Crazyhead, Truth Seekers) as Emily, a feisty suffragette who runs a jujitsu studio, Burn Gorman as dastardly thug-for-hire Linthorn, and Four Lions’ Adeel Akhtar as a particularly scuzzy Inspector Lestrade. Seasoned TV director Harry Bradbeer (Fleabag, Killing Eve) makes his feature debut with an impressive splash, unfolding the action at a brisk pace while keeping the narrative firmly focused on an intricate mystery plot that throws in plenty of ingenious twists and turns before a suitably atmospheric climax and pleasing denouement which nonetheless artfully sets up more to come in the future, while screenwriter Jack Thorne (His Dark Materials, The Scouting Book for Boys, Wonder) delivers strong character work and liberally peppers the dialogue with a veritable cavalcade of witty zingers. Boisterous, compelling, amusing, affecting and exciting in equal measure, this is a spirited and appealing slice of cinematic escapism that flatters its viewers and never talks down to them, a perfect little period adventure for a cosy Sunday afternoon. Obviously there’s plenty of potential for more, and with further books to adapt there’s more than enough material for a pile of sequels – Neflix would be barmy indeed to turn their nose up at this opportunity …

3. 1917 – it’s a rare thing for a film to leave me truly shell-shocked by its sheer awesomeness, for me to walk out of a cinema in a genuine daze, unable to talk or even really think about much of anything for a few hours because I’m simply marvelling at what I’ve just witnessed. Needless to say, when I do find a film like that (Fight Club, Inception, Mad Max: Fury Road) it usually earns a place very close to my heart indeed. The latest tour-de-force from Sam Mendes is one of those films – an epic World War I thriller that plays out ENTIRELY in one shot, which doesn’t simply feel like a glorified gimmick or stunt but instead is a genuine MASTERPIECE of film, a mesmerising journey of emotion and imagination in a shockingly real environment that’s impossible to tear your eyes away from. Sure, Mendes has impressed us before – his first film, American Beauty, is a GREAT movie, one of the most impressive feature debuts of the 2000s, while Skyfall is, in my opinion, quite simply THE BEST BOND FILM EVER MADE – but this is in a whole other league. It’s an astounding achievement, made all the more impressive when you realise that there’s very little trickery at play here, no clever digital magic (just some augmentation here and there), it’s all real locations and sets, filmed in long, elaborately choreographed takes blended together with clever edits to make it as seamless as possible – it’s not the first film to try to do this (remember Birdman? Bushwick?), but I’ve never seen it done better, or with greater skill. But it’s not just a clever cinematic exercise, there’s a genuine story here, told with guts and urgency, and populated by real flesh and blood characters – the heart of the film is True History of the Kelly Gang’s George MacKay and Dean Chapman (probably best known as Tommen Baratheon in Game of Thrones) as Lance Corporals Will Schofield and Tom Blake, the two young tommies sent out across enemy territory on a desperate mission to stop a British regiment from rushing headlong into a German trap (Tom himself has a personal stake in this because his brother is an officer in the attack). They’re a likeable pair, very human and relatable throughout, brave and true but never so overtly heroic that they stretch credibility, so when tragedy strikes along the way it’s particularly devastating; both deliver exceptional performances that effortlessly carry us through the film, and they’re given sterling support from a selection of top-drawer British talent, from Sherlock stars Andrew Scott and Benedict Cumberbatch to Mark Strong and Colin Firth, each delivering magnificently in small but potent cameos. That said, the cinematography and art department are the BIGGEST stars here, masterful veteran DOP Roger Deakins (The Shawshank Redemption, Blade Runner 2049 and pretty much the Coen Brothers’ entire back catalogue among MANY others) making every frame sing with beauty, horror, tension or tragedy as the need arises, and the environments are SO REAL it feels less like production design than that someone simply sent the cast and crew back in time to film in the real Northern France circa 1917 – from a nightmarish trek across No Man’s Land to a desperate chase through a ruined French village lit only by dancing flare-light in the darkness before dawn, every scene is utterly immersive and simply STUNNING. I don’t think it’s possible for Mendes to make a film better than this, but I sure hope he gives it a go all the same. Either way, this was the most incredible, exhausting, truly AWESOME experience I had at the cinema all year – it’s a film that DESERVES to be seen on the big screen, and I feel truly sorry for those who missed the chance …

2. BIRDS OF PREY & THE FANTABULOUS EMANCIPATION OF ONE HARLEY QUINN – the only reason 1917 isn’t at number two is because Warner Bros.’ cinematic DC Extended Universe project FINALLY got round to bringing my favourite DC Comics title to the big screen. It was been the biggest pleasure of my cinematic year getting to see my top DC superheroines brought to life on the big screen, and it was done in high style, in my opinion THE BEST of the DCEU films to date (yup, I loved it EVEN MORE than the Wonder Woman movies). It was also great seeing Harley Quinn return after her show-stealing turn in David Ayer’s clunky but ultimately still hugely enjoyable Suicide Squad, better still that they got her SPOT ON this time – this is the Harley I’ve always loved in the comics, unpredictable, irreverent and entirely without regard for what anyone else thinks of her, as well as one talented psychiatrist. Margot Robbie once more excels in the role she was basically BORN to play, clearly relishing the chance to finally do Harley TRUE justice, and she’s a total riot from start to finish, infectiously lovable no matter what crazy, sometimes downright REPRIHENSIBLE antics she gets up to. Needless to say she’s the nominal star here, her latest ill-advised adventure driving the story – finally done with the Joker and itching to make her emancipation official, Harley publicly announces their breakup by blowing up Ace Chemicals (their love spot, basically), inadvertently painting a target on her back in the process since she’s no longer under the assumed protection of Gotham’s feared Clown Prince of Crime – but that doesn’t mean she eclipses the other main players the movie’s REALLY supposed to be about. Each member of the Birds of Prey is beautifully written and brought to vivid, arse-kicking life by what had to be 2020’s most exciting cast – Helena Bertinelli, the Huntress, is the perfect character for Mary Elizabeth Winstead to finally pay off on that action hero potential she showed in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but this is a MUCH more enjoyable role outside of the fight choreography because while Helena may be a world-class dark avenger, socially she’s a total dork, which just makes her thoroughly adorable; Rosie Perez is similarly perfect casting as Renee Montoya, the uncompromising pint-sized Gotham PD detective who kicks against the corrupt system no matter what kind of trouble it gets her into, and just gets angrier all the time, paradoxically making us like her even more; and then there’s the film’s major controversy, at least as far as the fans are concerned, namely one Cassandra Cain. Sure, this take is VERY different from the comics’ version (a nearly mute master assassin who went on to become the second woman to wear the mask of Batgirl before assuming her own crime-fighting mantle as Black Bat and now Orphan), but personally I like to think this is simply Cass at THE VERY START of her origin story, leaving plenty of time for her to discover her warrior origins when the DCEU finally gets around to introducing her mum, Lady Shiva (personally I want Michelle Yeoh to play her, but that’s just me) – anyways, here she’s a skilled child pickpocket whose latest theft inadvertently sets off the larger central plot, and newcomer Ella Jay Basco brings a fantastic pre-teen irreverence and spiky charm to the role, beautifully playing against Robbie’s mercurial energy. My favourite here BY FAR, however, is Dinah Lance, aka the Black Canary (not only my favourite Bird of Prey but my very favourite DC superheroine PERIOD), the choice of up-and-comer Jurnee Smollet-Bell (Friday Night Lights, Underground) proving to be the film’s most inspired casting – a club singer with the metahuman ability to emit piercing supersonic screams, she’s also a ferocious martial artist (in the comics she’s one of the very best fighters IN THE WORLD), as well as a wonderfully pure soul you just can’t help loving, and it made me SO UNBELIEVABLY HAPPY that they got my Canary EXACTLY RIGHT. Altogether they’re a fantastic bunch of badass ladies, basically my perfect superhero team, and the way they’re all brought together (along with Harley, of course) is beautifully thought out and perfectly executed … they’ve also got one hell of a threat to overcome, namely Gotham crime boss Roman Sionis, the Black Mask, one of the Joker’s chief rivals – Ewan McGregor brings his A-game in a frustratingly rare villainous turn (my number one bad guy for the movie year), a monstrously narcissistic, woman-hating control freak with a penchant for peeling off the faces of those who displease him, sharing some exquisitely creepy chemistry with Chris Messina (The Mindy Project) as Sionis’ nihilistic lieutenant Victor Zsasz. This is about as good as superhero cinema gets, a perfect example of the sheer brilliance you get when you switch up the formula to create something new, an ultra-violent, unapologetically R-rated middle finger to the classic tropes, a fantastic black comedy thrill ride that’s got to be the most full-on feminist blockbuster ever made – it’s helmed by a woman (Dead Pigs director Cathy Yan), written by a woman (Bumblebee’s Christina Hodson), produced by more women and ABOUT a bunch of badass women magnificently triumphing over toxic masculinity in all its forms. It’s also simply BRILLIANT – the cast are all clearly having a blast, the action sequences are first rate (the spectacular GCPD evidence room fight in which Harley gets to REALLY cut loose is the undisputable highlight), it has a gleefully anarchic sense of humour and is simply BURSTING with phenomenal homages, references and in-jokes for the fans (Bruce the hyena! Stuffed beaver! Roller derby!). It’s also got a killer soundtrack, populated almost exclusively by numbers from female artists. Altogether, then, this is the VERY BEST the DCEU has to offer to date, and VERY NEARLY my absolute FAVOURITE film of 2020. Give it all the love you can, it sure as hell deserves it.

1. TENET – granted, the streaming platforms (particularly Netflix and Amazon) certainly saved our cinematic summer, but I’m still IMMEASURABLY glad that my ultimate top-spot winner FOR THE WHOLE YEAR was one I got to experience on THE BIG SCREEN. You gotta hand it to Christopher Nolan, he sure hung in there, stubbornly determined that his latest cinematic masterpiece WOULD be released in cinemas in the summer (albeit ultimately landing JUST inside the line in the final week of August and ultimately taking the bite at the box office because of the still shaky atmosphere), and it was worth all the fuss because, for me, this was THE PERFECT MOVIE for me to get return to cinemas with. I mean, okay, in the end it WASN’T the FIRST new movie I saw after the first reopening, that honour went to Unhinged, but THIS was my first real Saturday night-out big screen EXPERIENCE since March. Needless to say, Nolan didn’t disappoint this time any more than he has on any of his consistently spectacular previous releases, delivering another twisted, mind-boggling headfuck of a full-blooded experiential sensory overload that comes perilously close to toppling his long-standing auteur-peak, Inception (itself second only by fractions to The Dark Knight as far as I’m concerned). To say much at all about the plot would give away major spoilers – personally I’d recommend just going in as cold as possible, indeed you really should just stop reading this right now and just GO SEE IT. Still with us? Okay … the VERY abridged version is that it’s about a secret war being waged between the present and the future by people capable of “inverting” time in substances, objects, people, whatever, into which the Protagonist (BlacKkKlansman’s John David Washington), an unnamed CIA agent, has been dispatched in order to prevent a potential coming apocalypse. Washington is once again on top form, crafting a robust and compelling morally complex heroic lead who’s just as comfortable negotiating the minefields of black market intrigue as he is breaking into places or dispatching heavies, Kenneth Branagh delivers one of his most interesting and memorable performances in years as brutal Russian oligarch Andrei Sator, a genuinely nasty piece of work who was ALMOST the year’s very best screen villain, Elizabeth Debicki (The Night Manager, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Widows) brings strength, poise and wounded integrity to the role of Sator’s estranged wife, Kat, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson gets to use his own accent for once as tough-as-nails British Intelligence officer Ives, while there are brief but consistently notable supporting turns and cameos from Martin Donovan, Yesterday’s Himesh Patel, Dirk Gently’s Fiona Dourif and, of course, Nolan’s good luck charm, Michael Caine. The cast’s biggest surprise, however, is Robert Pattinson, truly a revelation in what has to be, HANDS DOWN, his best role to date, Neil, the Protagonist’s mysterious handler – he’s by turns cheeky, slick, duplicitous and thoroughly badass, delivering an enjoyably multi-layered, chameleonic performance which proves what I’ve long maintained, that the former Twilight star is actually a fucking amazing actor, and on the basis of this, even if that amazing new teaser trailer wasn’t making the rounds, I think the debate about whether or not he’s the right choice for the new Batman is now academic. As we’ve come to expect from Nolan, this is a TRUE tour-de-force experience, a visual triumph and an endlessly engrossing head-scratcher, Nolan’s screenplay bringing in seriously big ideas and throwing us some major narrative knots and loopholes, constantly wrong-footing the viewer while also setting up truly revelatory payoffs from seemingly low-key, unimportant beginnings – this is a film you need to be awake and attentive for or you could miss something pretty vital. The action sequences are, as ever, second to none, some of the year’s very best set-pieces coming thick and fast and executed with some of the most accomplished skill in the business, while Nolan-regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar and Dunkirk, as well as the heady likes of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, SPECTRE and Ad Astra) once again shows he’s one of the best camera-wizards in the business today by delivering some absolutely mesmerising visuals. Notably, Nolan’s other regular collaborator, composer Hans Zimmer, is absent here (although he had good reason, since he was working on his dream project at the time, the fast-approaching screen adaptation of Dune), but Ludwig Göransson (best known for his collaborations with Ryan Coogler Fruitvale Station, Creed and Black Panther, as well as career-best work on The Mandalorian) is a fine replacement, crafting an intriguingly internalised, post-modern musical landscape that thrums and pulses in time with the story and emotions of the characters rather than the action itself. Interestingly it’s on the subject of sound that some of the film’s rare detractions have been levelled, and I can see some of the points – the soundtrack mix is an all-encompassing thing, and there are times when the dialogue can be overwhelmed, but in Nolan’s defence this film is a heady, immersive experience, something you really need to concentrate on, so these potential flaws are easily forgiven. As a work of filmmaking art, this is another flawless wonder from one of the true masters of the craft working in cinema today, but it’s art with palpable substance, a rewarding whole that proved truly unbeatable in 2020 …

#wolfwalkers #wonder woman 1984 #ww84 #love and monsters #parasite #parasite movie #the old guard #mank #enola holmes #1917 #1917 movie #Birds of Prey #birds of prey the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #tenet #tenet movie #2020 in movies

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vosh-rakh · 3 years

Text

meeting of the minds

Ku-vastei wearily steps inside from the rain, slamming the round metal door behind her. She begins to wring out her robes, swearing to every god and saint she knows under her breath.

A heavily-armored man draws his sword and points it towards her. “What are you doing here, slave?”

Too tired to speak, Ku simply glares at the cyrod as she continues to dry herself off.

“How did you get up here?” pursues the warrior, stepping closer. “These are Master Aryon’s private -”

Before he can take another step, a daedric spearpoint materializes in xanthous light at his throat, freezing him in place. “Come no closer, n’wah,” Ku declares, her tired voice deep and rumbling, “if you value your neck.”

“Turedas? What’s all this commotion about?” calls a silvery voice from upstairs. A dunmer descends the spiral staircase, hiking up his robe so he doesn’t trip. He spies Ku-vastei with her conjured weapon pressed against his bodyguard’s gorget and his face lights up. “Ah, Turedas, settle down. This is the guest I told you to expect.”

The cyrod carefully sheathes his weapon, and Ku follows suit, the spear dissipating into tiny flecks of yellow floating to the ceiling and beyond. “I did not expect you meant to meet with a slave, Councilor,” says Turedas, his eyes still carefully trained on Ku.

“She is no slave of mine or anyone else,” replies Master Aryon, patting the warrior on the back. Ku-vastei notices he lacks the coarse Vvardenfell accent. “She is like Smokeskin-killer, a free argonian. We do not keep slaves in Tel Vos.” He smiles at Ku-vastei. “My apologies for the confusion. My man here once worked at the slave market in Sadrith Mora. Despite his Cyrodiilic origins, his heart was hardened to the abuses there.”

Ku-vastei grunts and goes back to wringing out her robes. “No, no,” interjects Aryon, taking a careless step closer. “Here. Allow me. You’ll feel warmer for a moment.”

Ku narrows her eyes but allows him. With a wave of his hand, vaporous orange light encircles her, pulling the moisture from her clothing and suffusing her body with a pleasant warmth. Her tail pulls itself taut with a cozy shiver. “Thank you,” she offers in return.

“Think nothing of it, muthsera. Come upstairs with me, I was just about to sit down for dinner.” He waves her towards the stairs with a practiced bow and flourish of his hands. “Turedas, if you would, please mop up the entryway.”

Turedas groans but nods in deference to his master. Ku follows Aryon up the fungal stairs, her tail “accidentally” slapping Turedas on her way past. As they climb, she begs the question, “See, you know what stairs are. No levitation necessary to go from one floor to the other. Then why do you require it to access this tower at all?”

“It is a longstanding tradition of the Telvanni,” answers Master Aryon. “We are a House steeped in wizardry, of course. So to reach our finest, you must prove yourself capable of such an essential spell, or at least resourceful enough to buy or brew a potion. This way it is impossible for lesser men to waste our often valuable time.” He pauses, then adds, “...Or so the tradition goes.”

“So you hesitate before tradition?” Ku observes.

“In its most outdated forms, yes.”

“Yet you keep the common folk of Vos a mile away from you. Very faithful adherence.”

The magister turns to look at Ku-vastei for a moment, then smiles. “...Some traditions die harder than others. Some must be followed so that others may be changed. It is a sacrifice. You are very observant, Ku-vastei, and that shall do you well in House Telvanni.”

They arrive at the second floor of the fungiform tower, where a table ladened with food awaits. “Be my honored guest, muthsera, and have a seat,” Master Aryon proclaims, throwing his arms wide with entreaty.

As Ku-vastei sets aside her pack and cautiously tucks her tail to sit at the table, she admires with salivating tongue the grand feast laid out before her: gleaming slaughterfish sashimi with an inky dipping sauce; an entire leg of mudcrab, plump and stuffed with golden meat; perfectly molded saltrice balls, neatly tucked into hackle-lo leaves; a bowl of bright blue roasted dovah-flies; and a large cup of mulled shein, steaming with an intoxicating aroma. She lifts it to her nose with both hands, inhaling deeply. The weather must have clogged her sinuses, because the blast of spices clears them right back out, like a fire removing a colony of its congestive kwama.

“Feel free to help yourself,” Aryon says, taking his own seat and separating his corkbulb chopsticks. “I prepared enough for the both of us.”

Ku takes a mighty swig of the shein before setting it back down. She forgoes her own pair of chopsticks and begins popping dovah-flies into her mouth with gusto, each one carefully pinched between her claws. Aryon watches attentively as he slowly dips a piece of sashimi into the black sauce.

“You knew -” Ku says between bite-swallows, “- that I would be coming.”

Aryon ignores this observation, instead making one of his own. “You approach this meal with proud carelessness. Who is to say I haven’t poisoned the dovah-flies?”

Ku laughs, picking up the massive crab leg. “A man of your status should know we argonians are immune to the poisons of men and mer.”

“Yes,” Aryon replies with a chuckle of his own. “Of men and mer, yes. But I know of at least three brewed in the dark depths of your homeland that are immune to your immunity.”

The leg cracks open violently, mudcrab meat scattering across the table.

“But you needn’t worry,” entreats Aryon. He moves his chopsticks in a single calculated motion to pick up a dovah-fly and pops it into his mouth, savoring the crunch before continuing. “Such poisons have no antidotes. We are here as allies, Ku-vastei. We serve the same purpose. In serving me, you serve yourself.” He pauses to fish a piece of misplaced crab meat out of the murky depths of the sauce. “My Mouth told me you were coming.” He taps on a lavender-stoned ring on his finger as he chews.

“...Telepathic ring?” Ku asks, her pupils dilating slightly as she examines it. She gently takes a saltrice ball and nibbles on it, a bit more cautiously now, despite Aryon’s assurances.

“Close,” Aryon says after swallowing. “Teleportation. I prefer to meet face to face. I had Galos take the long way back to Sadrith Mora.” He rolls the ring under his fingers across the table towards Ku-vastei. “This is yours now, as I’m making you my new Mouth.”

“I’m not standing around in Sadrith Mora all day.” Ku’s hunger gets the best of her, and she finishes off the ball quickly. But the words have an effect - she takes her own pair of chopsticks and awkwardly fiddles with them to pick up a piece of sashimi. She does not touch the ring just yet.

Aryon laughs. “No, no, I won’t expect that of you. Galos will still take care of the minor clerical duties of the position.” He watches Ku’s attempts with a frown. “Look. See how I hold them? Like this,” he says, rotating his hand towards Ku-vastei. He deftly picks up a dovah-fly and pops it into his mouth.

Ku adjusts her grip and tries to pick up a dovah-fly herself. She manages to lift it a few inches from the bowl before twisting it out of the sticks, sending it rolling off the table. “Xuth,” she exclaims under her breath.

“Much better. You’re a quick learner.” He sets down his chopsticks and leans back in his chair. “I suppose they didn’t teach you proper etiquette at the Savethi Plantation, did they?”

Ku-vastei’s nostrils flare slightly. “You’re very well researched,” she remarks, biding her temper.

“Yes,” Master Aryon says. “I’m well aware of your past prior to arriving on Vvardenfell. Your role in the Arnesian War is particularly impressive. You’re quite the impactful character, Ku-vastei.”

“What’s your point?” Ku lays down her own chopsticks.

“You know, unlike most of my fellows in the House, I’m quite sympathetic to your plight, and that of your people.”

Ku presses a palm firmly on the surface of the table. “You know nothing of ‘our plight,’ n’wah. You live just the same privileged life as the rest of you house-folk.”

Aryon clears his throat and leans in. “I may not have ever been a slave, Ku-vastei, but I am fond of progress. The business of slavery is an ancient tradition, and ancient traditions must be abolished for a new society to blossom. Are you familiar with the teachings of Vivec?”

“No,” Ku-vastei lies. She’s read some of his sermons, but admitting familiarity feels treacherous.

“Ah, nevermind then. But as I said, in order for our society to flourish, it must be destroyed and made anew. This goes especially for our Great House Telvanni. You will find me just as progressive as the staunchest abolitionist.”

He lifts his cup of shein to his nose, inhaling the aroma of the spices. “I’m aware how your name translates from Jel to Aldmeris. ‘Catalyst for necessary change.’ It served you well in rebellion, and I think it can serve us well here. Working with me, you can once again be that catalyst, and forever change the face of Great House Telvanni.” With his offer pitched, he leans back in his chair and takes a sip of the wine.

Ku-vastei mulls it over for a bit. In order to advance within the house, it seems she has little choice. And perhaps he truly will end up a valuable ally. She picks up the ring and inspects it briefly before sliding it onto her middle finger. The magical ring glows in reaction to its new wearer, expanding and tightening to fit comfortably. “One condition,” she says. “Build some damn stairs to this place.”

“Well,” Aryon interjects, “with the ring, you won’t need-”

“I don’t care. Build some stairs.”

Aryon narrows his eyes briefly but smiles. He extends his hand over the feast. “Deal.”

Ku takes his soft hand and shakes it firmly, saying nothing.

After feasting further and conversing about House politics and magical theory, Ku-vastei makes ready to leave. On her way out she meets Turedas again.

“Good evening, sera,” he says, hissing the honorific.

“I’m Master Aryon’s Mouth now, n’wah.”

The color falls from the cyrod’s face. “Yes, serjo. Of course.”

Ku-vastei turns swiftly towards the door, slapping Turedas with her tail again as she does, before quickly marching out into the clear night.

#title sucks but w/e #tes #tesblr #morrowind #vvardenfell #telvanni #master aryon #oc: ku-vastei #tel vos

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cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Lucien’s R&S - My love rival older brother (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (我的情敌哥哥) was part of the Dream Heart Lake event which will unlikely come to EN🍒

More Lucien R&S from this event:

> regarding what books don’t say

> my love rival older brother ♡

> the victim who disappeared

> since that rainy night

[ Chapter One ]

I have a really, really strong rival in love. His name is Lucien.

All the girls in class like him, including Nana. I initially thought she would be different from other girls, but I didn’t expect that she’d start talking about becoming Lucien’s bride all day long lately.

Their starry-eyed infatuation leaves me feeling rather confused and revolted. Isn’t he just a guy who’s slightly taller than I am, a little more dashing than I am, and a little more intelligent than I am right now? When I grow up, I can definitely surpass him.

I’m not saying this groundlessly - the Auntie from the canteen said it. She would secretly give me an extra fruit candy whenever she hears me complain, and will say, “Xiao Kai is still growing. As long as you eat properly, there will be a day when you’ll be even taller and more dashing than Professor Lucien!”

I really wish the girls in my class could be as rational as Auntie Zhang, instead of waking up early to squeeze in front of the mirror to apply make-up when they find out Lucien would be coming.

Under normal circumstances, I’d be the one tying the bow atop Nana’s hair. If I were to acknowledge that I’m the second best in tying bows, no one would dare to acknowledge that they’re the first.

However, ever since Lucien helped Nana tie her hair once, she started getting dissatisfied, commenting that my tying didn’t look good, and would deliberately make things difficult for me. She would wait for that man, who comes once every half a month, to help her tie it.

That man appears even fewer times than the number of Power Rangers episodes shown on TV over the weekends. But his popularity among the female students is incredibly high. Every time he arrives, he tells us stories, show us the Cat’s Cradle, occasionally adds a small science lesson, performs little magic tricks, and things like that.

The girls don’t seem to care about what Lucien talks about. After all, I can tell how the words “Lack of Understanding” are written across their faces when they’re listening to the class.

He, on the other hand, teaches very seriously, and explains the originally plain and simple knowledge of those books even more plainly and simply. I don’t know if it counts as a hobby, but the girls seem especially keen on hearing him explain the same learning point three times in different ways.

He’ll be visiting us again tomorrow, and I’ve decided that this time, he’s not going to steal my thunder.

[ Chapter Two ]

As usual, the girls get up early to welcome Lucien - including Nana.

What they weren’t expecting was for Lucien to bring a pretty-looking Sister along with him. The both of them are walking very closely, slightly different from people who were brought over as accompanying teachers.

“I know what’s going on. This Big Sister is Brother Lucien’s girlfriend!”

The boys immediately start hollering along with me, while the girls engage in a discussion. Big Sister is at the side, frantically shaking her head in denial. But Lucien just smiles, crinkling his eyes at her. Anyone with clear eyesight can tell that he’s interested in her.

“What nonsense! I’m Brother Lucien’s bride!”

“That’s right, that’s right! Brother Lucien has given me candy before!”

“Everyone received a piece of candy. But I have a brush that Brother Lucien rewarded me with!”

Everybody starts talking, and the scene becomes chaotic, just as I expected. Lucien doesn’t seem affected. Just like what the adults often say, he’s “A Master of Love.”

While everyone is still busy with their fervent discussion, he says something into Big Sister’s ear, without a change in his expression. The red hue on Big Sister’s face turns redder. Even without much thinking involved, one can already tell that he must have said something embarrassing.

Nana seems to have noticed Lucien’s action, and starts bawling. Thinking that this is a great opportunity for her to let go of Lucien, I tag on a sentence triumphantly. “There’s no use in crying. You’re no longer Brother Lucien’s wife.”

This just makes Nana cry even more fiercely, and her entire face gets red and swollen.

Seeing how upset she is, I feel a twinge of guilt. Thinking that softening my heart at this moment would be equivalent to a loss, I take out the handkerchief I’ve been gripping tightly in my pocket to coax her.

I didn’t expect that Lucien would act before I could. Although he was at Big Sister’s side just a second ago, he immediately moves over to Nana’s side in the next moment. In his hand, he even has a little flower hair tie.

“Here, don’t cry. Nana’s such a cute girl. Next time, there will definitely be many boys who will compete to marry you.” After tying the flower onto her hair, Lucien pats her head.

As though an ‘off’ switch has been clicked, Nana, who was weeping earlier, stops crying instantly, breaking into a smile.

Watching how she has once again revealed a smile to this man - one she has never shown me even half of, I really can’t stand it. In my heart, I decide to win the next round!

[ Chapter Three ]

Perhaps due to Big Sister’s request, Lucien is attending the PE class with us for once.

Judging by how gentle and frail he looks, I think this is a great opportunity to reverse the impression Nana has of me.

The regretful thing is, my luck in drawing lots remains as poor as always. I end up drawing a lot which puts me in the same group as Big Sister. And our opponents happen to be Nana and Lucien.

Looking at how Nana is so excited to be holding Lucien’s hand to the point where she’s jumping three feet into the air, I grit my teeth silently, drawing up a plan for the following battle.

Before the competition, I pull on Big Sister’s hand, standing on tip toes as I tell her the overall strategy for the competition. Surprisingly, Big Sister seems eager, which makes me heave a sigh of relief.

If she were another Lucien enthusiast, my “Concentrate All The Firepower on Lucien's Face” battle proposal would have definitely failed before it could be carried out.

Prior to the official start of the competition, I grip Big Sister’s hand tightly, stating our grand goal. “Pretty Sister, we must definitely win this competition!”

With a blow of the whistle, the two of us focus our firepower on Lucien as we whack the balls. Big Sister is even more cooperative than I expected. But I didn’t expect that Lucien had actually been keeping his abilities hidden. His ability at sports is shockingly good.

He’s as agile as a leaping tiger, dodging and jumping with his long legs. Although we go all out to throw the little balls, not even one hits him. Just as the battle enters its most intense juncture, Big Sister gets carelessly struck by a ball that Nana throws, and has to leave the court regretfully.

At this moment, I had miscalculated and underestimated the battle between women. But this didn’t mean that the showdown between Lucien and I would end.

Standing by myself in the court while carrying the determination of two people, I swing my arm and wave the small ball in my hand. Increasing the speed of the ball would inevitably cause my accuracy to deteriorate. But I didn’t expect for my hand would slip, sending the small ball in Nana’s direction.

“Nana, be careful!”

Although warning your opponent in a competition is an absolute taboo, I couldn’t care less given the circumstances. Poor Nana is scared frozen to the spot as the small ball flies towards her. In the meantime, Lucien rushes over to block it from the other side of the court.

“Nana, are you all right?”

“Mm, I’m fine. But Brother Lucien has been hit by the ball. Does it hurt a lot... Let Nana blow on it for you. Once I blow on it, the pain will fly away!” While Nana says this, she’s so frantic that she’s on the verge of tears. It’s as though she was the one hit by the ball instead.

“Mm, I’ll have to trouble Nana then.” Lucien places his arm before Nana, letting her hold it carefully and blow on it for a very long time before he leaves the court.

Although Nana is still on the field, her heart has long since ran off with Lucien. When she sees Lucien bringing Big Sister out of the sports hall, she loses her will to fight even more. As though she’s venting her anger, she smashes the ball onto the floor. “I’m not playing anymore. You’ve won!”

When faced with this competition, which I won for no reason, my heart doesn’t feel anything...

I’m thinking - what kind of evidence must I obtain about Lucien before Nana would completely give up on him?

[ Chapter Four ]

At noon, everyone has returned to the dormitories for their afternoon rest. But I’m still burdened with an incomplete task, and am unable to sleep!

Secretively, I sneak out of the dormitory when the teacher-on-duty dozes off, looking for Lucien everywhere.

I don’t see any traces of Lucien or Big Sister at the lakeside, the tiny forest, and all the locations suitable to bring a girlfriend to. Without harbouring any hopes, I return to the classroom. I didn't think that i’d discover something unexpected:

I see both my targets, who have completely lost their fighting spirit, laying down on the table, looking as though they’re asleep.

In order to capture such an image which harnesses historical value, I had specially taken the phone the teacher-on-duty had left on the table secretly before heading out. Since what one says isn’t necessarily true, I have to use real evidence to enable Nana to give up on Lucien.

Carefully, I tap on the camera function. After pointing it towards Lucien and Big Sister, I capture a photograph of their intimate moment with a “ka cha”.

Wait a minute, why is there a “ka cha”?!

I frantically fiddle with the phone, but accidentally tap the capture function several more times. The sound of “ka cha”s fills the air. Before I can find the cause of it, Lucien has already woken up.

I meet Lucien’s eyes awkwardly, thinking in my heart that this man was obviously just pretending to be asleep. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been roused awake by such a soft sound!

He places a finger in front of his lips to do a “no sound” gesture, then takes the phone in my hand, flipping through the substantial evidence I had painstakingly captured earlier.

Just when I thought the photographs would be destroyed without a trace, Lucien returns the phone to me, and speaks in a soft voice. “Mm, your photography skills aren’t bad. But this phone - isn’t it Teacher Liu’s?”

In order to protect this evidence with my life, I have no choice but to tell a tiny lie. “T-that’s because I behaved very well today! Teacher rewarded me by letting me play with it!”

“Take a look. Sister is very tired too. If you leave obediently right now, I can give you another reward.”

“Okay! If you can honestly answer a question I have, I’ll leave immediately!” I didn’t expect that there’d come a day where I’d be able to exchange conditions with Lucien. With such a great opportunity, of course I have to ask him something especially important.

“Mm, go on.”

“What’s your view on Nana?” To me, this is an extremely important question.

“She’s a very obedient little girl. And let me tell you a small secret. As compared to pink, she likes lemon yellow even more.”

Lemon yellow.

I remember this quietly in my heart, and recall how Nana does indeed like collecting small, lemon yellow objects. I originally thought she cherished them so much because they were things Lucien gave to her.

As the saying goes, opportunity only knocks once. Seeing that Big Sister wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon, I grasp at the chance to push on in the flush of victory. “In that case, is Big Sister your girlfriend?”

But Lucien is an astute man. He doesn’t let anyone take advantage of him. “Didn't we agree that it’d only be one question?”

Hmph, fine. Anyway, I already know that Nana likes lemon yellow, so I’ve got nothing else to fear!

With such a thought in mind, I grip the phone and leave the classroom with huge strides.

When I turn my head once more, Lucien is once again pretending to be asleep next to Big Sister.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc lucien #cncancelled

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oristromboli · 3 years

Text

If You Be Our Star, We’ll Be Your Sky | 1

Chapter 1: Haunted Memories

In which you grapple with past events bleeding into the present.

(Smut this chapter: none)

“The arrogation of mankind ends here.”

Things became a blur after that – your wings burst forth and you saw the twins take off in opposite directions as you split down the middle. Like some dance, the three of you wove between oscillating pillars of dark shapes folding in on themselves before all converged in on the imposing woman. She was no different from any other gate, any other obstacle you needed to cross between worlds; while you were often the one to suggest the quiet and efficient route, the twins charged forward with one clear goal in mind. Two-against-one were bad odds, especially when it was you between a rock and a hard-place – or, more accurately, squeezed between one twin and the other. You pitied the god as she braced for their combined onslaught, clearly unaware of what hell would rain down-

Except. Except, suddenly, you witnessed the twins suspended in mid-air, caught and strung up for their audacity.

You didn’t think, you couldn’t think, you dove for the first twin you saw and yanked them away from that void that crept from her fingers.

Lumine looked up, shocked and horrified all at once, and indescribable shame turned to ice in your blood. While you held on to Aether, you both witnessed Lumine become swallowed in that blackness, that.. nothingness, and you could only let go of Aether as he shot forward to flank the god.

His sword was drawn and in a flash of light did it seem to make contact. You quickly joined his side with hopes to see Lumine amidst the chaos. Everything would be okay again, you three could go back to adventuring, she would forgive the split-second decision, you told yourself. That is, until you saw the god tall and proud with barely a scoff as she looked at you two without even the decency of contempt. In that moment, you suddenly understood the impulsive twins’ tempers. You both dove towards the god, weapons drawn and red in your eyes.

Wait. Wait, no, that’s not right. The red was neither your anger nor panic, but the god’s powers enclosed on you both.

“Wait! Stop! Give my sister back!” Aether cried, and you closed your eyes, wishing to all the stars above that this was all a dream and you could stop suffocating –

---

“Paimon! Paimon, get off of her,” Aether said, laughing as he lifts the fairy off of your chest and what the fuck Paimon.

“Aw, Paimon just wanted to help! She wasn’t waking up, so Paimon thought that shaking her would help,” she said, pouting as you felt her tiny paws release your shirt to only hang limply as she was carried like a sack of potatoes away from you. Emergency rations indeed.

“Okay, we need to have a serious talk about you and personal boundaries,” you mutter while you sit up, massaging feeling back into your collarbone. “If you don’t want to be designated as mascot number two behind our lil’ buddy, I suggest you start losing some weight before sitting on me.” You jerk your thumb towards Aether’s belt where a small glass ball hung and a golden Seelie flickered rhythmically. Is it snoring?

“Hey! Paimon is not mascot number two! And Aether’s cooking is too good…” she mumbles, flipping between indignant to having the gall to look somewhat guilty as she breaks free from his grasp. That didn’t last long, though, as Aether snickers with an incriminating finger poking the fairy.

“So, you admit to being our mascot?”

You very quickly tune their bickering out and set out about collecting your own bedroll before moving on to Aether’s. Most of your powers were sealed except for the few convenient ones, such as access to a subspace for storage and the ability to travel quickly within Teyvat, but otherwise, everything else was left for discovery. In that way, organizing your campsite became quick and easy work on the days that you weren’t woken by Hilichurls looking to turn your bedrolls into breakfast burritos.

Actually, scratch that. Hilichurls are better than Paimon ‘accidentally’ strangling you.

Aether’s laugh rings clear around you as he stretches his lithe body, already limber and prepared for the day. He never seemed to care much about comfortable beds – or, well, any basic comforts – but Paimon is right, he makes damn good meals. In your many months on Teyvat looking for Lumine, you both fell into a steady rhythm where he cooked and acted as a de facto leader while you archived everything you came across. Between the three – no, the two of you - you were often the one taking notes and painting the landscape around you in an effort to remember these adventures while Aether acted as the beacon of hope for the locals.

Even if Aether fills Lumine’s role easily, you can tell it was never comfortable.

You pause at that thought, glancing over to Aether who was making very exaggerated gestures to what you can only assume are his steps for Paimon à la carte. The ball holding your new friend bounces around with his movements, but the Seelie inside seemed unperturbed, if you were being honest. He never parted with the creature, and you were sure it was equally possessive of its new master.

In his own way, you think Aether tries to be subtle about it: between the Seelie’s ethereal golden glow and its headstrong personality, you can’t help but notice how he cradles the ball with a forlorn expression some nights. It was only polite to roll over in your pretend-sleep and very pointedly not comment. When he wasn’t wrapped around the ball, you laid next to him and held him as tightly in silent understanding, often falling asleep tangled like that.

The tear stains are always ignored the morning after.

You swallow around a sudden lump and turn around, fumbling for your own journal to see the next tasks for the day. Despite your own emotions, you know that Aether doesn’t blame you, he told you himself many times and says that there was only one of you. Still, you can’t help but wonder if - while he doesn’t blame you per se - he wishes it was Lumine you chose and not him. Ever the self-sacrificing big brother.

A red thread lies hidden in the page you left off, acting as a sort of make-shift bookmark. Wrapped in knots and with a sort of tender care for the regal dragon with amber eyes near the bottom is a single Starconch, dangling around with each gentle breeze. If anybody asks you, you would deny it vehemently, but you swore you could hear laughter from that conch sometimes from another big brother. Twirling the sapphire item, you can’t help the bittersweet smile that breaks out on your face against the stupid memory.

---

You decided to stray from Liyue that day, most of your daily commissions done with Aether treating Paimon to dinner afterward. Like two parents, you switched days on who gets the honors of taking the overgrown child while the other relishes in time for themselves. It was natural; though you were used to traveling as a pack, sometimes you just… needed to get away.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one with that idea as you soon spied a figure lounging in the sandy beaches close to the city. When you were close enough to see the scarf billowing in the breeze, you stopped and immediately held your breath. Shit, shit, shit, did he know you were here? Maybe if you just quietly turned around, you could get away and leave the Eleventh Harbinger alone. Not that you were strangers to each other. Far from, actually, as you grew friendly with each other over the many weeks - or has it been months? Time flows differently in this world – spent together in Liyue.

“Hey, girlie,” he calls without looking your way and you freeze. Whelp, there goes that plan.

“H-hey,” you stutter, only to stop and tap your throat lightly before trying again. “Hey, Childe. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He snickers and turns then with a wide smile, yet it wasn’t as feral as you expected. If anything, he seems distant. “No, you’re fine. Looking for some peace and quiet from that stir-fry?”

“Oh, how did you know,” you say with a small smirk as you walk closer. Childe looks up at you and pats the sand next to him. No harm in that, sure, you could sit down. He was better company than Paimon at the moment, anyway. At that thought you grimace briefly, when the hell did you want to spend more time with a Fatui Harbinger? Still, you join him in watching the waters dance across the sand.

Okay, yeah, you can admit the view is gorgeous. Liyue never fails you in that regard with its mountains and crystal clear waters. The trees are always an explosion of color while the geography varies dramatically from one corner to another. You're certain Childe thought the same despite his incessant complaints about the heat.

Which, speaking of, he was unusually quiet and focused. When you glance at him, you only notice then he was thumbing a small, blue shell with a star on it. He catches your eye and holds up the conch. “Mm? This? You know, there’s an old legend in Liyue that says that if you hold the conch up to your ear, you can hear what your heart longs for,” he says as he flicks the conch to your hands. “For most, that’s the sea, of course. All the boats, all the business opportunities. Maybe you’ll hear the gremlin’s whining?”

You punch his shoulder lightly while he laughs, all the while eyeing you carefully. Maybe this was your cue to listen? However, when you hold the conch up, you didn’t hear the sea at all. Almost… suffocatingly empty, like… Your eyes widen, imperceptible to all except for damnably sharp Harbinger who you felt nudging against your foot from his own. “So? What’d you hear?”

“I hear… the ocean. The one between worlds,” you lie before you held it back out to him.

Childe guessed yours and Aether’s otherworldly - or rather, "not human" as he put it - status early on. You weren’t surprised coming from someone who carefully pointed out the use of elemental powers without visions, so you never bothered to obfuscate your stories from other realms too deeply. How Zhongli suspected, however, was beyond you at the time. The funeral consultant dismissed Aether’s questions with a lazy wave and this is no more strange than adepti in teapots.

Your companion shakes his head and wraps his gloves around yours, closing the conch into your fist.

“The ocean between worlds, huh?” Childe looks up then, something… something dark and inaccessible in his eyes again. You purse your lips and lower your eyes. “You know, I hear whales. The ones in the ocean here… They call out and follow each other,” he finishes, the pause in his sentence enough to be nearly visceral. He turns to you, eyes wicked and teeth bared in a wide smile. “Maybe they’re looking for a good kill?”

You snort. It became quite easy for you to dismiss these little moments of vulnerability, to close your eyes and forget. Ironic, considering you spent your waking days desperately trying to remember. “Maybe. Maybe there are some up there, looking for their next adventure. They’re… never alone, you know,” you murmur and ignore the curious look Childe gave you, “they have constellations all around them. To guide them home.”

“Sure,” he scoffs and stands. All of a sudden, that vulnerability was stamped underfoot like a stray pest. Did you say something wrong? Regardless, it’s unavoidable that some of the sand flies in your face from Childe’s movement, but you take the opportunity to swat him in fake annoyance nonetheless. Score one for you, zero for Fatui. Childe chuckles and offers his hand, which you take gratefully and will not comment on his tight grip while he dusted your back off, nope. You will not.

It wasn’t a long walk back to Liyue and the two of you fell into an easy banter. Well, easy for Childe since he ruthlessly pinpointed your pet peeves for exploitation, but you enjoy him nonetheless. This felt natural, dancing between the lines of friend and enemy.

Along the docks, the two of you run into Zhongli examining tapestries from a stand.

“Ah! Zhongli! What a surprise finding you here!... ” No it isn’t.

“... Just browsing, I see. What are you planning on buying?...” You mean what you are going to buy, Childe.

“... Is there anything we can help with?” Help the walking encyclopedia of Liyue? The entire time your face twists more in your incredulity at the implication of Zhongli requiring anything other than Mora. Still, you nod along, if only to hear Zhongli speak at length about the history associated. You are, after all, a curator of all things practical in knowledge.

The fact that his warm voice sends shivers to your core was just a bonus, honest.

Zhongli’s eyes shimmer as he looks at the two of you, crinkling faintly along the edges. “Indeed, I would greatly appreciate assistance in deciding which pattern to buy.” He turns back to the stand with a hand resting on his chin, and you flank Zhongli’s right while Childe goes to his left. “This design over here depicts Glaze Lilies in bloom, a wondrous sight most rare these days in Liyue. A moment preserved for all to appreciate. Over here, we see the clouds descending upon the mountains of Liyue…”

So you told yourself you were going to listen to Zhongli, but you suddenly can’t help staring at a long, crimson token. The strings appear to be woven in complicated patterns, but when you look closer, you realize that the patterns are dragon scales that meet on a wild head with Cor Lapis eyes. How curious. Once upon a time, you were sure a design like this would have adorned the walls of kings of yore, yet now it only serves as a cheap souvenir.

The single thought of pretty propels you grab it.

Of course, this does not go unnoticed by Zhongli and Childe. You felt the silence rather than heard it; in that moment, you look to their inquisitive gazes, eyes wide and face as flushed as the dragon. “I… I. I saw this and. It’s… Pretty. Pretty nice,” you lamely explain, suddenly at a loss for words when the full force of their combined gaze is set upon you. Stars and gods above, that was pathetic. Tourist trap sprung.

Childe’s smile grows indulgent and Zhongli’s tight-lipped expression never moves while his shoulders barely trembled. They… thought this was cute. Great. You purse your lips and turn away, mumbling obscenities under your breath. Still, a traitorous grin comes as you felt Childe’s hand settle on your shoulder as he not-so-subtly breaches your personal space after side-stepping the funeral consultant.

“A pretty token for a pretty girl, no?” he coos and leans forward to inspect the trinket in your hand.

“Childe possesses an expensive eye,” Zhongli agrees and his voice floods your other ear as the older man follows Childe’s lead. His rich timbre petrifies you, and you could only stand there with a white-knuckle grip while you listen to their appraisal. “In Liyue, an invisible red string is said to entwine the fate of all those caught in its distinct pattern, destined to meet regardless of time or circumstance. Never will it break, safeguarded by the divine itself. Even the tangled pandemonium it may cause would lead only to a grander, more intricate pattern at journey’s end. Perhaps this will lead you to your destination?”

“Zhongli, as much as I appreciate Liyue’s customs and stories, isn’t this a little too on the nose? Saccharine to the very end indeed,” Child snickers. Still, when he notices your crestfallen expression at his bickering, he gazes at Zhongli again before you hear your name called softly. “Hey. Let’s make a deal, yes?”

“What? No, no, no I am not making a deal with a Fauti Harbinger,” you immediately hiss and whip around. Damn the fallen Geo Archon, you will not be beholden to the whims to a Harbinger in the land that once belonged to the God of Contracts. In a desperate bid for allies, you beg your other friend, who was suddenly and conveniently interested in another token on the stand. Damn him too, you decide.

“Come on, pretty bird,” Childe says and pokes your side.

“I think I liked it better when you called me pretty girl.”

“Ah, no no, pretty bird because you always cry when the cats come over to play.”

“I do not, fuck you very much. And did you just call yourself a cat -?”

“I promise, this is a deal you’ll like. Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. I’ll buy it anyway.” Childe waves his hand to the vendor to barter. Before long, he returns triumphant with the long thread in hand and gently lays it in your own in the same manner he did with the Starconch shell. “Y’ready to hear my deal?”

“No.”

“In return for me generously buying you this,” he continues, ignoring your very pointed is this how he treats you, Zhongli and the amused no, simply you in response, “I want your end of the deal to be carrying this with you, in that little journal you think we don’t see you scribbling in.”

Your face immediately flushes with indignation. “Like a bookmark? Why?”

“Because,” Childe says while he carefully wraps the end closest to the dragon’s head around the shell. By the time he’s finished, the dragon looks to be gripping the glimmering item and protective amber eyes gaze upwards to the heavens, ignorant to Zhongli’s intense scrutiny. “Because, sweet thing, I think Zhongli’s right. The Hero of Mondstadt, a Fatui Harbinger, and a funeral consultant all walk into a bar – “

“That is not how I remember our first meeting, Childe.”

“ – and forgive our dear comrade’s ignorance of Snezhnayan jokes. Point being, I don’t want you to forget this,” he says, winking when you blink owlishly. It’s hard to remember that you’re supposed to hate this man and hate his sentimentality.

“This… this is your attempt to piss me off, isn’t it? Make me never forget I’m friends with a Harbinger? Put a mark on my back that says ‘I.O.U.’?”

“Aw, now why would I do that? You wound me!” Childe pretends to be hurt before elbowing you with all the mischief you would see Aether give you before charging a Hilichurl camp. “Besides, you said it yourself, friend. I just want to be remembered. That’s the only debt you owe.”

As much as you wanted to hit Childe then, you both turn when you hear Zhongli’s rumbling chuckle. You lean forward against Zhongli opting to hit him instead and relish in his little grunt to your effort, clearly only putting on a show for humor’s sake. “Wow. Is this a gift from you too, Zhongli?”

“Hey! I paid for it!”

“Thank you,” you say fondly. “Except… Except I have nothing in return. Zhongli told me about how he gave you chopsticks, and you two gave me this – never mind how you even pay for Zhongli’s entire life. How can I…” You look down then, somber of the fact you are in the land of contracts.

(All must be fair in love and war.)

“How can I make this fair?” you settle, gazing up suddenly. Childe only laughs, characteristic of his lackadaisical attitude and oh stars you know this is going to bite you in the ass. You feel Zhongli’s hand rest on your hip and when you turn to him, he’s -

Oh gods he’s so close -

“Your company is enough, dear bird. Now come. I am in need of eyes tempered by travels outside of Liyue. It is refreshing to see these items anew.” He pivots on his heel and walks further along the docks without turning behind to check whether you and Childe would follow. You both do, of course, but not without half-hearted grumbles at his presumptuousness.

It became easier then, the bickering between you and Childe with Zhongli only stepping in when he cared enough to distract your verbal blows for opinions on his next purchase. That, of course, only led to the two of you turning on the refined gentlemen, determined to crack that stony exterior as punishment for his ridiculous disregard for money. How immature, how… childish. Damn it.

You hear your name being called. “Hey, hey, are you listening? Hey-“

---

“Heyyy!” Paimon says, floating in front of your face while Aether snaps his fingers. Blinking awake, you snap to attention. Aether had gathered the rest of your supplies, and the three of you were ready to continue on your travels by foot to gather ingredients on approach to Dragonspine. “Hey! Paimon asked if you were ready to go?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah I am. Sorry, was just trying to remember our, ah… next commissions,” you mumble before putting the journal away. Paimon gazes at you sympathetically then. With a sharp turn on your heel, you began walking towards the mountain with a renewed bounce in your step and lame determination to ignore Paimon’s pity. “C’mon! Better to get there sooner rather than later, yeah?”

Aether jogs to catch up and flicks his eyes between you and Paimon in some grand conspiracy. “Think if Paimon eats the last of our goulash again, we can use her as a hot blanket?” You both laugh, whipping around then to stare at the aforementioned fairy who only gulps.

“Paimon, ahh, Paimon is going to go scout ahead! Can never be too careful!” she chirps before floating ahead at a speed you only ever saw her gain when she spies a fresh meal. You were thankful, though. It’s no secret how you hurt these past few months since Childe’s departure to Schnezaya after his release of Osial. In many ways, that disaster became old news with the citizens of Liyue eager to remember the event only as of the fond ascension of the Liyue Qixing’s power rather than the near-death blow from the Vortex God. The peaceful Rite of Descension held after solidified the transition into the age of men. Though rumors were abound of Childe’s – no, Tartaglia’s – involvement, they were quickly muddled with the Fatui emphasizing new business opportunities in an attempt to let it all be “water under the bridge.”

Rather, they attempted to save face while Ningguang squeezed them under her golden thumb as retribution. Ultimately though, nobody truly witnessed Childe himself summoning the god of old.

That doesn’t make his actions any better after knowing. If anything, you find it almost easier to forgive – bitter in your private admission – since he acted only within his nature, no more and no less. Understanding was swift after you and Aether were somehow roped into helping him wrangle Teucer, a spitting image of the stubborn Childe you knew and not bloodthirsty Tartaglia, before his return to Schnezaya. You couldn’t find it in yourself to truly hate him after the Fatui’s blatant trust in you two to keep his secret, even as you jot down a new quest afterward: ‘Strangle Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, at your next meeting.’

Before his departure from the Northland Bank, you even had the courtesy to warn him under your breath when you hugged him farewell. He naturally returned the sentiment and squeezed harder in emphasis.

Yep. Reasonable. Single-minded friends to the end.

No, you hate the Fatui more. Whether Tartaglia ever forgives his conniving comrades – and the Tsarista - is something for the stars to witness. You know how deeply he respected the Tsarista for her frigid yet imperial attitude, something borne from the experience of a true warrior who courted death head on, whose pale complexion was forever marred by the scarlet slaughter. The only time you saw light in his eyes was when he waxed poetry of her carnage, much to Paimon’s disgust.

His contempt for deceit often warred with his pragmatic attitude of “the ends justify the means.” Despite his misgivings, he acted within his orders perfectly. He even expressed his distaste for unnecessary power demonstrations, a complete contrast to your false assumption and Signora’s patronizations over his desire for chaos. The reward? Being used and tossed aside. With Tartaglia designated as a pawn in the Cryo Archon’s grand game instead of granted the bare decency for communication between commander and general, you couldn’t help but wonder where his opinions of her now lie. Even as he cursed Zhongli and Signora for leading him on, you heard humor lacing his words. You were sure that Tartaglia always suspected Zhongli to be more than a consultant, but the Tsaritsa’s blatant disregard for the Harbinger’s intelligence was offensive, even to you.

In the end, what Tartaglia really thinks of her now doesn’t matter. It never did.

No, you were – are, you desperately try to remind yourself – more disappointed with Zhongli, with Rex Lapis, the God of Contracts, the God of War, with fucking Morax. When you first came to Liyue with the intention of hunting down the Geo Archon, both you and Aether marveled at the Geo powers bestowed upon you from the first statue encountered out of Mondstadt. Surely, Aether pondered then, this meant that the Geo Archon approved of your Holy Grail quest. Instead, many months later and after some rather painful revelations, you both discovered that Zhongli – gentle, kind, and dear Zhongli – was none other than the stone-cold god instead. Aether tried convincing you for weeks that this was Zhongli’s nature, that as a god who walked Liyue for over six thousand years, he likely saw these as tactical maneuvers similar to the Archon War.

Aether, bless him, understood Zhongli’s reasoning deeply; after all, you two were likely thousands of years old yourselves despite stopping the count many centuries ago. You logically understand the desire for peace, but you can’t help the emotional betrayal.

Thankfully, Aether keeps most of his comments to himself. He knows you well enough to know why you were really upset, why your heart twists at the memories you spent with the former Archon, but he is wise enough to know when to pick his battles.

You still remember your bitter conversations with Zhongli afterwards, your rampage in seeking him out at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor for answers. Except, what answers could he give you that he didn’t already offer at the Golden House? Still, that didn’t stop you as you barreled forward, didn’t stop you from pounding against his stone-cold chest and meeting his irritatingly serene gaze as you demanded he sat down for what pitiful interrogation you could dish out on the God of War. Since that confrontation, you spent much of your time in Liyue attempting to harass – or reconcile? – with Zhongli.

As you approach the mountain’s base, you feel Aether’s hand on your shoulder and his soft voice, “She didn’t mean it you know. She’s worried about you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll bet you, I don’t think she’s forgiven him either. Paimon knows you’re trying, you’ve spent more time with Zhongli to repair things, but as much as she loves the fact that you’ve gotten him to pay for all our meals now, I'm pretty sure she’s still mad at him.”

You laugh then, and Aether perks up at your shift. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, matching his steps with yours as you snicker along. “Stars help the Lord of Geo, because he hasn’t face the fury of a hungry Paimon.”

---

“Promise me.”

“I understand.”

“No, Morax, you don’t. I need you to promise me.” You scowl hard, hands slamming on the desk as you stare deep into his amber eyes. He only passively stares back, but you knew him better than that. Those months of connection, of deeper understanding – even if you didn’t truly understand then it was because of two immortals who subconsciously recognized eternity in the other – gave you some advantages, such as recognizing that flicker of guilt across his eyes before disappearing. You don’t relent in your assault as you both ignore Aether and Paimon in the background tensely watching. “You owe us. That explanation at the Golden House and Rite of Parting was crap.”

"But Mr. Zhongli told us everything - "

"He gave us half the story, Paimon," you growl. "Isn't that right? How deep in with the Fatui were you? What did you tolerate?"

The air grows thick as memories of each Fatui camp obliterated run through your mind. You barely managed to stomach reading even half of the detailed accounts on the experiments conducted within Liyue. His eyes flick to the bags around your eyes, then towards the journal hanging by your side.

Zhongli’s fingers rap his table as his nostrils flare. Good. You got him on edge. Still, before you can say more, he relents and you try not to be disappointed. He knows when he is faced with an immovable mountain. With no more protest, Zhongli rummages for spare paper and ink before pulling both out and writes up a quick contract with a few lines of promises for total honesty. The pen narrowly avoids tearing the paper with the pressure. As he hands the paper to you, he never meets your eyes as he says, “It is important to me that you know I was authentic with you after Osial’s defeat. I hope this reassures and appeases your curiosity. If a physical symbol is required for what I have always given you, starlight, then so be it.”

Each word of his grows softer, yet only digs deeper daggers into your heart. Starlight. His own nickname for you to mirror Tartaglia’s pretty bird, yet you didn’t know why or how it came to be. Regardless, you take the contract and inspect his signature. Grabbing the pen from his hand – and with barely a flinch at his fingers lingering near yours – you sign your own name. “… Not always, clearly. It’s done,” you murmur and bring the contact with you to the fire behind him. All other parties in the room watch as you shuffle closer to the fire, ears straining for your next words that are nearly drowned in the incessant crackling. “You’re a lot like him, you know. Childe.”

Zhongli stiffens. “You have said so before.”

“You both see the world around you as means to an end, some limit to be pushed or some assessment to be passed. Is he… is he as bloodthirsty as you were, too? Back then?” He draws a sharp breath, though you don’t look behind you to see what expression he wears.

“… Yes. He is. I had expressed such sentiments to him before his departure. Childe only laughed, and… He told me that he knew there was a reason he liked me.” It takes all your willpower to not grip the contract any harder than you did, so you were proud of yourself, damn it. Still, you nod before tossing the contract into the fire.

Zhongli swiftly rises at that, and as you turn around, you watch his fierce eyes on you debate either questioning you or hurling a stone pillar towards you on pure instinct. Some habits die hard, it seems.

You only laugh, shoulders relaxing for the first time since Osial rose from the sea. “Zhongli.” He freezes, as if it were possible to become even tenser than he already is, and mouth parts lightly as you whisper his mortal name so sweetly. “All I needed to know was your willingness. I don’t care about contracts, I never even asked for it. Let’s not do that. It’s been six thousand years already, hasn’t it?”

He swallows thickly. “Yes. It has been.” Zhongli sits down and sweeps an arm out, gesturing for you three to take seats in front of his desk. Although you were the one to initiate the conversation, Aether and Paimon ask most of the questions while you keep your eyes glued to the desk in front of you. That didn’t stop you from feeling Zhongli’s eyes on you though, ever curious as to what was behind your own neutral complexion.

He taught you too well to hide your emotions; the thought alone is enough to crack the god of stone’s heart.

Unfortunately for the three of you, Zhongli can offer no explanation for their activities within Liyue. Although he was aware of some of their sickening actions, he was forced to turn a blind eye as he focused on the grander picture. Mortals needed to learn to handle affairs amongst themselves while he doubled his efforts in safeguarding what was personally important to him as he prepared to step down.

As you three were leaving his office – and after Paimon manages to convince Zhongli to pay for all her meals as recompense – you linger when you hear the former Archon call your name. When you turn back to see him, his own eyes aren’t meeting yours, but are instead taking the ring from around his thumb to place on the desk. What is the old idiot doing?

“I am not worthy of this gift,” he begins, closing his eyes as he shifts the ring forward. Copper floods your mouth from how tightly you bite your tongue then to keep from practically weeping at witnessing Zhongli attempt to give back the ring you gifted so many months ago. “You gave this to Childe and I as equal payment for our own gifts, yet you did this as promise to remain as true friends. I will not apologize for my actions, as I did what I believe to be right for Liyue as its Geo Archon.” His eyes open, resolute and vibrant. True to his word, there is no remorse for his manipulations. “As a mortal, however… I do not believe I have adequately upheld my end of the bargain. ”

Underneath his gloves, his knuckles go white from how tightly he clenches his fists in his lap.

“Zhongli…” You step forward to grab the ring before gently taking one of his hands. After unfurling his fist, you gingerly place the ring back in his palm. The ring you gave Zhongli is of a golden dragon wrapped around, biting its own tail. A symbol of eternity. For Tartaglia – Childe, you correct yourself, he was Childe then – you gave him a ring of silver and sea glass so brilliant, it acted as a mirror that could rival the ocean’s reflections. “Do you remember how Childe whined that my gift was impractical, compared to the utensils and bookmark?”

“Yes,” Zhongli says, smiling at the memory. “He complained that it would hinder battle as he gripped his bow.”

“Right. I said that it was so he would never forget how annoying I can be when I wanted to,” you giggle. “I gave this to you after you told me of how… of how all your friends forever shined like gold in your memories. I wanted to be like that too.” Before he could respond to your crack, you continue, purposefully cutting his thoughts off. “I know you promised to write Childe. He told me he made peace with you after bribery with some osmanthus wine. Something about learning how to be mortal, getting a chance to fight you, all that. He also told me he was ordered to keep you close as an asset, even if he didn’t understand why at the beginning. The Tsaritsa wants to keep tabs on your ‘progress’ and movements, I’m sure. For all of Tartaglia’s Fatuiness, he’s not very secretive about that sort of stuff. Guess he was glad to be done with those lies.”

Zhongli doesn’t respond and watches your face as you speak, so you took this as a cue to continue your speech as you withdrew your hands. You meet his gaze then. “I want you to let him know that I won’t try to make contact with him. I made my peace with him while Teucer was here, I harbor no bad blood. We were both pawns.” You ignore how Zhongli’s throat bobbed. “But I can’t keep contact with him. Not now, at least, not with where our mission is heading.”

After a long moment, the Geo Archon closes his eyes, before reopening to the imperial gaze the statues of him around the country forever etched. You both knew this was little more than a game, though. Nothing could make you bend the knee to any god before, why would you now? “Will you still visit me in Liyue?” he asks. For all of his age, you marvel at how lost he sounds.

A god who never learned how to be vulnerable, to be human.

“Yes, I promise, because you’re my friend.”

---

After that, the weeks crawled by, but you kept your promise. Ningguang saw fit to reward you, Aether, and Paimon with a reserved room in the finest inn at Feiyun Slope for whenever you passed through, as befitting of the Heroes of Monstadt and Liyue. Though the three of you collapsed on the floor in the apartment and wept honest-to-gods tears of joy of not having to open your wallet for once, you saw this as a cosmological suggestion for you to begin your journey of forgiving Zhongli.

Which, no, that was a lie actually. You knew deep down you already forgave Zhongli, that wasn’t the issue.

Long after Paimon retreated to her own bed tucked amongst an ungodly amount of pillows and blankets set in one of the larger windows, Aether sat you down in another windowsill to ask you honestly about your feelings on Zhongli and Childe. Thank the stars you knew Aether for centuries because he opened his arms instinctually as you sniffled and crawled over, burying your head into his chest as tears flowed openly for the first time since you both lost Lumine. After apologies and please let me wash your scarf I’m sorry I made it gross and no don’t you dare I ruin your shirts all the time, you began to confess how, for the first time, you felt dually matched tit-for-tat in these two men.

Tartaglia reminds you of the joys of adventures, of youth, of the difference between surviving and being alive while Zhongli gives you the stability that a mountain eternal would. He beckoned you through the history of Liyue with a warm smile, shared in your long conversations with Aether on the nature of life well into the night against the dawn, and stood steadfast as warden against your own anxieties of eternity despite not knowing then of his own timeless status.

Could it be helped that you fell as quickly as a star, set aflame with hopes of something more?

Yet, once again, luck proved to not be on your side. You remember in the days leading up to the battle with Osial at discovering how Zhongli and Childe would share long conversations or made time for meals regardless of busy schedules. Though you confessed to Aether that you recognize it was because both wanted to keep tabs on the other without revealing their ulterior motives, it didn’t fail to ignite anxiety, especially now that you knew Zhongli maintained correspondence with Childe, despite the former’s insistence that it was strictly friendly and contractual.

Stars, could you have felt any more like a selfish kid then? To want both men left you feeling equal parts angry with yourself and with them. How dare you allow yourself to get close to them? You should have left the socializing to Aether, fuck.

Combined with the fact that both men betrayed everyone involved and were shy of brawling each other in the Golden House, you couldn't help but feel that most - if not all - of the memories made were false. Bloodthirsty, warmongering, and ruthless in pursuit of their goals. Did they really care for any but themselves?

Aether held you tightly that night, singing songs in your shared native tongue that sounded of bells and twinkling glass to lull you into a fitful sleep. In the weeks after, you grew to become friendly with Zhongli once again, and if Aether didn’t know you any better, he would have said you moved on.

Except he did know you better.

Despite his own attempts at explanation, he knew you had to see for yourself what both he and Paimon witnessed during those long months spent in Liyue with Childe and Zhongli. He knew how frustrated the Harbinger and ex-Archon would grow, restless in their seats if you took too long escorting Paimon around the city to collect snacks. Aether got along like fire to a wooden house with the other two, all wit and not-so-professional humor. However, knowing that he fulfilled the diplomatic role to help others, you took the opportunity to try to irritate Childe where you could – at first because of his Fatui status, until it evolved into you and the Harbinger competing to elicit a laugh from present company without throwing hands.

While Aether certainly didn’t like to pry where it wasn’t his business – that was Kaeya’s modus operandi, thank you – he sometimes wondered if Childe and Zhongli viewed you and Aether as the guide to that murky area between mortal and divine. Their robust characters more than once reinforced his idea that Visions reflected personalities rather than the nation’s sovereign ruler. By extension, when he thought about how water crystalizes geo, he concluded that the speed Childe and Zhongli summoned shields and attempted to break them in a conversational dance whenever they were together was due to some deeper, instinctual urge.

That, or they were just nearly the same brand of deceitful, halfwitted idiots.

Perhaps that was why they felt comfortable constructing such a close friendship. To both of them, this merely played into some larger façade, all while convinced that the other was entirely fooled by the thick shield. Aether laughed to himself. The morons got so tangled in mental games, they unknowingly built a true and dependable relationship, if the blatant stress between them in the Golden House was anything to by.

Aether was not born yesterday. He didn’t survive these many millennium by not carefully observing the inhabitants of each world they visited. He is friendly, yes, but not ignorant. And how could he fault you for trying to find some sliver of happiness here, even if it was temporary? Stars above know his own heart ached each night.

That was why he was so sure you felt as comfortable around them as you did with Paimon and himself. The traveling troupe acted as a pacifying force for whatever the hell was going on between Childe and Zhongli being head deep in manipulations. In the little ragtag gang of the three travelers, none of you held tolerance for any bullshit and welcomed only peace, in whatever form a Fatui Harbinger and Geo Archon could manage.

He personally never doubted the authenticity of any sentiments, any stories expressed in conversations between all of you, even if you were now swimming with mistrust. The loneliness of not being able to trust anybody... He doesn't know if he can take much more abandonment after Lumine's entrapment. Everyone holds their own secrets, what they share always has a sliver of truth. Lies are built on that. By extension, Aether had no doubts that Childe and Zhongli were equal parts stubborn, righteous, and fucked up in their own uniquely Teyvaten ways.

At this point though, weren’t you all? Aether glumly drew his gaze upwards to the peak of the mountain. All of this for a five-thousand mora commission? Whoopee.

When the three of you grew closer to Dragonspine, he fell behind to gather tinder for a cooking fire to shake himself out of these deeper thoughts. As Aether returned, he couldn’t help his open fascination as Paimon played dodgeball with the small stones you were hurling at her when she kept commenting on your stove-building skills instead of helping.

In a hidden blessing, some things will never change. While rummaging through his subspace storage, the smile on his face quickly falls when he realizes –

“Guys. We have a problem.”

notes:

1) According to the game, starconches let you hear the ocean, no matter where you are. In a lot of religious texts (Buddhist, Egyptian, Mesopotamian, etc), the oceans are referenced as the bridge between heaven and earth, i.e. "bridge between worlds"

2) In one of childe's voicelines, he specifically references the Traveler wielding a lot of unusual powers without a vision

3) One of the MC's voicelines also references how time in Teyvat seems to be quicker with the days being so short

love yall <3

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x childe #childe #childe x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact #zhongli fanfiction #childe fanfic #zhongli fanfic #aether #genshin zhongli #genshin aether #genshin childe

19 notes · View notes

zabrak-show · 4 years

Note

can i request a fic where reader is maul's apprentice and kind of a daughter-like figure to him? and she accidentally calls him dad?

Uhhh OK!! This was such a cute request and yet I made myself cry writing it. lmao so I’m sorry in advance. This is a found family story. Also, I made this gender-neutral, I hope this is ok. The setting is Dathomir at the time of the Solo movie. So after Clone Wars Maul becomes the shadowy ruler of Crimson Dawn on Dathomir. He found an apprentice on Mandalore and has been training them for about 10 years.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Found Family!, Family trauma

Whoosh!

A training orb narrowly missed your head as you ducked out of the way and finally struck it with your lightsaber. You had let yourself get distracted and it was a close call. You’d been at this for too long to make mistakes like that. You felt a deep shame for an instant but turned it into energy to focus on the training lesson at hand. You ducked and rolled on the cold stone floor, striking down the last training orb in a flash of sparks. The air now filled with the scent of dust, ozone, and sweat as you breathed in a sigh of relief. To be able to sit for even just a moment was an immeasurable treat these days.

You’d been training under Maul for almost 10 years now and he’d always been an incredibly stern and demanding Master, but lately, he’d been almost overbearing with his training. You felt frustrated at times, but mostly just wanted to make him proud of all that you knew you were capable of.

“How is it an apprentice of mine could still flounder at training orbs?” The all too familiar hauntingly deep voice of you your master filled the large room. He walked in slowly with his hands clasped behind his back and his metal feet clanking against the stone in a soft tapping you’d grown to know and love through the years, but at this moment, felt disdain towards the intrusion.

“I still won in the end,” you protested as you quickly rose from the seated position.

“Spare me. You are better than this. Better than these errors. And you know it. What is distracting you these days?” he questioned you with the same stern tone, but a tenderness behind it only you could detect.

“I’ll do better. I will do the lesson again right now. Again and again until it’s perfect.” you offered desperately.

“Hmmm… so you will not tell me what it is that distracts you? You’ve been training all day. Go wash up and spend the night meditating and maybe then you can tell me why you are distracted.” he turned and walked out of the room his black robes lightly rustling with his sudden movements. You wanted to be defiant and yell after him how out of touch he was and what a crotchety old man he had become, but you held back and just stewed in your negative feelings for a moment before ultimately deciding to do exactly as he said.

After your shower, you felt immensely better and decided to go meditate, although it was a bit begrudgingly. You wanted to go hang out with the nightbrothers, truth be told, but you also were just not in the mood for that either. You felt like you were stuck, in a funk. You missed Mandalore. Your parents were trash and you thought you had come to terms with that, but then why did you still wake up in the middle of the night dreaming about them and being in the house you grew up in? You knew Maul sensed this unbalanced feeling in you. Even if he hadn’t so much as told you he knew, it was clear he could read it on you anyway.

You set your room up to meditate, lighting some magick Dathomrian herbs and setting all the lights down low. You sat on a pillow trying to clear your mind. All you could hear was your Master’s voice and try as you might to block it out it was too loud. You got up angrily to pace the room, but then you realized you weren’t just hearing his voice in your head, he was in the next room over having a conversation. Curiosity got the best of you and you wandered out into the hall to eavesdrop.

“I wasn’t there, but if I had been perhaps I could have saved him” you overheard a woman’s voice you slightly recognized, but couldn’t quite place it yet.

“hmmm, ha ha ha ha.” your Master began his iconic sinister laugh and you knew this was not good already, but also sensed the darkness surrounding his force signature.

‘Was he..scared? What could he have to fear?’ you pondered to yourself outside the room the voices emanated from.

“Bring the ship and come to me on Dathomir and you and I will then decide what to do about the traitor Beckett and his accomplices.” Maul snarled out and you heard the hiss of his lightsaber being activated.

“I’m on my way.” the woman responded with the immediacy that predicated only bad things on the way.

You crept back to your room knowing the peace you had known with Maul for the last ten years was about to change. You sat back down on your pillow and attempted to meditate in case your master were to walk by or come in.

“Y/N, get up. I’m sending you on a solo mission and you need to take whatever is most important to you.” Maul barged into your room as you had suspected may happen. You rushed to your feet and began looking for your bags to pack,

“Oh.. ok. Where am I going? Why aren’t you coming with me?” you tried to seem nonchalant, but his anxiety was boring into your soul and freaking you out. You’d never seen him so panicked.

“No time, just get ready and meet me at the ship hangar in an hour.” he ran out of the room before you could protest. His metal legs clanking against the stone down the hallway as you’d heard a million times before. You froze for a moment, trying desperately to always remember that sound. It was the first sound you remembered him from when he saved you on Mandalore. You had been run out of your home barely 10 years old, by your family for being force-sensitive and tried to survive on the streets of Sundari. It had gone ok for a month or so before you started to run out of party tricks to use on the gangs and you had been ambushed one night by several different gang leaders. Why your master was out walking that night and in that exact side street you’d never know, but he saved your life and the sound of his metal legs on stone pavement would forever be a reminder of that.

You swallowed a ball of anxiety and it snaked its way down your throat until finally settling into a heavy stone in your stomach. You knew he was sending you away, you sensed it. You hated that you could sense these things. Ignorance was bliss and it was not something you’d ever been privy to. You tried to breathe in the calming herbs still burning on your altar in a futile attempt to acquiesce some of these feelings. You snuffed out the incense, grabbed your bags, and left your room, not looking back as there was simply no sense of dwelling any longer.

You met Maul at the hangar and he was still in his fake calm, but frenzied mood.

“Master, you know I sense your feelings as well?” you asked with a concerned look on your face.

“Yes, my apprentice. You are more powerful than you know. I simply cannot afford to let anything happen to you. I’m sure this will all blow over in a couple of years, I just need you to hide for a while.” He reached out to grab your arm as he spoke, his fiery amber eyes gazing into your soul.

“A couple of years? That’s so long. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” You shifted your body away from him snatching your arm out of his grasp. You were an adult now and yet he still treated you like a child. It was more than you could stand.

“There’s no time to explain it all now, and I know you are no longer a child. That’s why I’m sending you away. If my old master finds out about you, about me. about any of this... Trust me, please?”

He barely spoke of his old master and when he did it was not good. You knew this was bad, but you were still so sad and confused.

“Can’t I hide on Dathomir? Please don’t send me away, dad.” the tears were spilling out of your eyes and you didn’t quite register what you had called your master until you looked up into his red face, his amber eyes widening in shock at the words.

Before you could completely die from cringe he grabbed you in a robust hug. Something he had only done once before when you were very little and your pet loth-cat had died.

“I would be so honored to be your dad. And that’s why it’s even more important for you to get away from me from awhile.” He grabbed your face to wipe away the tears with his gloved hands.

“Remember how I said we survive in the shadows? My shadow may have been lifted up and I can’t afford any more losses. You are all I have.” he pleaded with you and you choked back your sobs to give him another hug before you boarded the next passenger ship to maker knew where. You’d be on the run for a while you knew.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

as always thanks for reading and thanks for requesting <3

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#reader insert #maul #darth maul #crimson dawn #found family #family dynamic #solo star wars #prequels era #star wars fanfic #darth maul fanfic #family trauma #gender neutral reader #fanfic request

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stargazer-balladeer · 4 years

Text

Crush [Pokémon]

[Steven Stone x Female! Reader]

Inspired by: Crush - David Archuleta

Note: I decided to upload my works from both Quotev and Wattpad here. Hope ya’ll don’t mind :) And I hope ya’ll enjoy this (bc Steven Stone is my husband -///w///-)

Warning: none

[Y/N] groaned as she entered her apartment with exhaustion written in her face, it was a tiring day for the young lady. Constantly getting told to do this and that and this and that, constantly running around to do some errands for her stupid boss and getting told off for not doing her job right. It's just not her day today. She sighed as she removes her shoes and leaves it on the welcoming mat near her door, as she groggily stomped her way in her apartment. It was a relatively small apartment but a shelter nonetheless. It has a kitchen, dining table, living room, bathroom and bedroom. And it fits with her daily salary so win-win.

[Y/N] plopped down on her [F/C] couch as she laid down on one of the cushions, face plat on it. And then she screamed at it, getting rid of her frustration easily. Then she hears her PokeNav vibrating on her bag. She looks up to look at the time, only to see it's quarter to midnight already. She groaned once again. "Who the hell is calling me this late?!" Catty, Delcatty, purred as she jump to sit with her master. "Hey Catty." [Y/N] greeted while petting Catty on the head, which made the cat-like Pokemon purr more. With one hand, she rummaged her bag for her PokeNav and once found, pulled it out. She didn't bother to check her caller's ID as she pressed the green button and put it on her ear.

"Hello, who is this so I'll know who to murder tomorrow." "That's one way to say hello." [Y/N] jumped when she heard a familiar laughter coming from the PokeNav, and feeling her heart jumping from her chest. "S-Steven?! H-Hey!" [Y/N] laughed weakly, now embarrassed that she told her childhood friend that. "Hey to you too, [N/N]."

[Y/N] and Steven were childhood friends, having met accidentally on Meteor Falls. They were on a Journey at that time, and coincidentally bumped into each other. Catty was still a Skitty back then, and wanting to evolve it must've been the reason why [Y/N] was there in the first place, looking for a Moon Stone. Ever since then, they've been close friends. You can say they were rivals, though [Y/N] never participated in the League challenge. Now that Steven was the current Champion of Hoenn and [Y/N] starting to work, they've hardly talk anymore. So [Y/N] was surprised to have received a call from Steven so late in the night where they're supposed to be sleeping.

"What's up? Why'dya call this late?" [Y/N] asked as she brings her knees up and hug them with one arm, while the other held her PokeNav to her ear. Catty curled up beside her and fell asleep. She hears Steven humming on the other side. "I don't really know. I just have this sudden urge to hear your voice." [Y/N] feels her face heating up from Steven's blunt statement. If her heart was beating rapidly awhile ago, now it's beating thrice as much than normal that [Y/N] thought it's gonna burst out of her chest.

"W-Wha--?" "Besides.. we haven't been talking to each other for a while now... and.. I just miss your company." "I swear Steven if your doing this purposely, I'll go there and kill you myself" [Y/N] took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, before smiling. "I also miss talking with you, Steven." The other line went silent, which worried [Y/N], thinking she must've said something wrong. What she doesn't know is that Steven was dying of heart attack from the other side. "H-Hello..? Steven? You still there?" Steven snapped out of trance as he hears [Y/N]'s voice from his PokeNav. He shakily took a deep breath before answering his crus-- friend.

"Sorry. I thought I saw something." Steven lied while staring at the view from the window of his office. He's been doing paperwork for a while now, and he needed a break. Then he remembered [Y/N] and decided to call her, and suddenly remembering that its quarter to midnight when he click her number. He actually prayed to Arceus that [Y/N] was still awake or else he might feel the wrath of the woman again. He learned his lesson, he swear, he just forgot from the fatigue building inside of him. "Oooooh. Is it a ghost?" Steven chuckled as he shake his head. "Nah. I'm just seeing things."

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"You did what?" [Y/N] laughed along with Steven as he told her a story between what happened to the dinner of the Elite 4. It turns out it became eventful as Steven watches it unfold while eating his food. It started out simple and fine, no chaos. But Sydney and Phoebe started fighting about something and started throwing food at one another, but it seems like one hit Glacia. And the fight started. Drake also joined in as food were thrown everywhere. "I'm serious! I was merely enjoying my food while they fight." Steven laughed as [Y/N] giggle.

Soon it became silent for the two of them, neither speaking. You can even hear the background noises. Steven took a deep breath, it’s now or never. “Say... [N/N].” Steven called with a shaky smile. [Y/N] hummed in response, letting the platinum-haired man know that he has her attention. “What if.. you have a crush on somebody.. but you don't know what to how to tell them?” Crack. That was all [Y/N] could hear. The cracking sound of her breaking heart, as she lets out a shaky laugh.

“W-Wow! Y-You? Having a crush? What a surprise!” [Y/N] feigned surprise as she feels her eyes getting blurry. She could hear Steven laughing on the other side. “I-Is that so surprising?” [Y/N]’s [E/C] betrayed her as a tear came out and began rolling down her cheek. She swiftly wipe it as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. What she didn’t know however is that Steven could feel something was wrong with [Y/N].

“[N/N]? Are you alright?” Steven asked, worried about his friend. [Y/N] forced a smile on her face, even though Steven couldn’t see her. “I-I’m fine.” She reassured him, well, tried to atleast. Steven knew she was lying but decided to shrug it off. “Y-You just got to go with it. If that girl doesn’t like you, then she i-isn’t worth it.” [Y/N] responded to Steven’s question. “I-I gotta go. I need to sleep. Bye Steven.” [Y/N] simply said. Before Steven could protest though, she already hung up.

[Y/N] threw her PokeNav to the table in front of her and hugged her knees closer to her chest, bursting into tears while doing so. “I-I should be happy! W-Why the hell am I crying for?” She whined as she used her sleeve to wipe away the tears overflowing from her eyes. But as she wipe them, more tears came. Catty woke up from [Y/N]’s cries as she puts her paws on her thighs and whined her name to get her masters attention. [Y/N] looks at her with a pained look on her face, which Catty returns with a concerned face.

“O-Oh Catty. I’m a horrible person..” [Y/N] trailed off as she hiccups and sniff. Catty whined her name as she tries to comfort [Y/N] the best she could.

Meanwhile with Steven. Steven stared at his PokeNav, which was beeping, signalling that his friend hang up on him. He frowned deeply as corncern and worry overtook his face, his fatigue long gone now. “What happened to you, [N/N]?” Steven whispered as he stuffed his PokeNav into his pockets and standing up. He grabbed his jacket from the rolling chair and put it on. The only thing in his mind is [Y/N].

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“[N/N]? Are you in there? It’s me, Steven! Open up!”

[Y/N] groaned as she blocks out the noise, not wanting anyone in her apartment just yet. It seemed like [Y/N] fell asleep while crying. Steven, who was outside of her door, frowned when he didn't hear anyone inside the apartment. He's been here for quite a while now, constantly knocking and calling for her. One neighbor opened their door to see what was the noise all about, which Steven sheepishly explained. Steven tapped his foot repeatedly on the concrete floor beneath him while eyeing the door. "[N/N]! Open the door!" Steven called for the sixth time now, getting annoyed.

When [Y/N] still didn't open her door, he sighed, bringing his hand to his forehead. "I'm so sorry, [N/N] for doing this but since your not opening your door.. I have no choice." Steven mumbled as he brought out a familiar looking red-and-white capsule from his pocket. He pressed the button on the middle and it became the size of a tennis ball. "Come on out, Metagross." Steven called as he threw the Pokeball upward and out came the familiar Steel-type Pokemon. It made a noise, similar to a wondering sound. Probably curious why its been let out. Steven smiled apologetically at it.

"Sorry to disturb you, Metagross. But do you mind using Psychic to open the door? [N/N]'s not answering the door, I'm afraid." Steven explained to the Steel-type Pokemon. "This is actually invasion of privacy but it must be done." Steven mentally gulped as Metagross obeyed Steven and started using Psychic on [Y/N]'s door. After a few minutes, it opened. This made Steven grin. He turned to Metagross. "Thank you very much, Metagross. Have some rest." After he said that, he returned Metagross to its Pokeball. Steven put the Pokeball back to his pocket as he entered [Y/N]'s apartment.

"[N/N]? Sorry to intrude but you weren't answering so I had Metagross to use Psychic on your door.. Hope you don't mind." "OF COURSE I WOULD MIND! THIS IS AN INVASION OF PRIVACY STEVEN!!" [Y/N] mentally screamed when she heard footsteps coming near. [Y/N] pretended to sleep as she felt Steven's gaze on her. Steven sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. Steven stared at her sleeping face, now noticing dark bags under her eyes. He frowned at this as he crouch down to level her face. He lifts his hand to run his thumb underneath her eyes, which made her (accidentally) flinch. Steven quickly drew his hand, afraid that he might've woken her up. But he saw she's still sleeping, he sighed in relief, still not noticing that she's awake the entire time.

Steven stared at her face with a deep thinking face as he watch her breath, not creepy at all (-_-). He sighed as he ran his hand over his hair once again before settling on the back of his neck. "Why did you react like that over the phone?" Steven mumbled, whether he's really asking her or talking to himself, [Y/N] doesn't know. She just remain sleeping. Catty woke up when Steven entered, she went away to give her master and Steven alone time (I swear Delcatty is more aware of their situation--). He took a deep breath. "Why did you react when I asked you about me liking someone?"

[Y/N] was internally panicking in her mind, and trying to calm her still beating heart. BUT her nose pick up something that it made her sneeze. This made Steven jump in surprise, while [Y/N] is more embarrassed than ever. "WHY DID YOU BETRAY ME NOSE?! YOUR MY PARTNER! YOUR A PART OF ME FOR ARCEUS' SAKE!!" She then heard Steven chuckle. "Cute." Steven whispered, which made [Y/N] open her eyes. "What?"

Now this made Steven jump in surprise, he practically stood up while staring at [Y/N], with wide-eyed and mouth agape. "Y-Y-You're--?!" [Y/N] sweatdropped as she sheepishly laughed. She made a surprise motion with her hands. "Surprise!" She announced weakly. Steven stared at her before heating up. "D-Did you h-hear what I s-said?!" [Y/N] looks away, which is enough for Steven to realize that she was aWAKE THE ENTIRE TIME. "W-W-WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?" Steven couldn't help screaming while asking, more embarrassed than her. [Y/N] sheepishly laughed. "I..."

Steven sighed as he took a deep breath, effectively calming himself down. He stared at [Y/N]'s [E/C] eyes before looking away. Both of them were covered in silence as neither talked, probably too embarrassed at this point. Steven broke the silence with a cough, whether to get her attention or clearing his throat, [Y/N] doesn't know. But it made her snap to the flustered Stone. She quirk her brow at his odd behavior, almost like a lovesick puppy.

"Y-You said over the phone that I should... be front about my feelings.. c-correct?" Steven nervously said as [Y/N] tilted her head before hesitantly nodding her head. Her mind conjuring all kind of scenarios, none of them with Steven returning her feelings though. He took a deep breath before weakly smiling at her. "T-Then.. would you like to b-be my date for the upcoming Champion's ball?" "Oh? Sureee.... wait... date?!" [Y/N] screamed the last part as Steven sheepishly nodded his head.

[Y/N] froze, blinking once, twice, thrice.. Before gasping, face overheating and staring at Steven with a shock expression on her face. This action made Steven think that she doesn't return his feelings, as he smiled sadly. "I-It's okay if you don't agree though.. I understand.." Steven trailed off while looking away from her. [Y/N] stared at him, her mind unable to understand his words yet. When her mind finally caught up, her eyes became blurry as tears started pouring out of them.

Steven's head snapped to her when he heard her sniffle, only finding her in a crying mess. Did his confession be THAT bad?! Steven quickly went to her side and gather her form in his arms. He rubbed her back in a soothing matter as he comfort her. "Are you alright, [N/N]?" [Y/N] then started laughing in delight, which made Steven confused. "Actually, better question is, is your mind okay?" Steven rephrased, now fearing his friend's sanity. She shook her head as she drew back from Steven's warm hug. She has a big smile on her face and affection and adoration dancing in her eyes. Steven could feel his heart beating more rapidly than before, and feels his face heating up. "Of course I'll go with you to the ball, Steven." She laughed. This made Steven hug her with a huge smile also present in his face, laughing alongside her. "Oh Arceus! You don't know how my heart stopped at that moment." [Y/N] hugged him back as her laughter became giggles, before stopping entirely.

"I-I-I thought.. you liked.. May." [Y/N] asked, now remembering why she thought Steven didn't like her. Steven furrowed his brows. "May? She has a crush on Brendan though.." Steven stated, remembering the cheery brunette girl. [Y/N] was now embarrassed, not realizing that the cute brunette girl has a crush on the Gym Leader's son. "Ah.. is that so.."

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"Who knew that this started with a crush.." [Y/N] laughed as she and Steven enjoyed the view from Mossdeep Space Station, watching a meteor shower together. It's been a 2 years since they've started dating, and became official. Now, [Y/N] was living with Steven in Mossdeep and Steven now being the Devon Corporations new president, after his father retired due to old age. Wallace managed to beat Steven, effectively gaining the title of the new Champion. Steven would admit that he was saddened at the fact that he wouldn't be a Champion anymore, but he was glad that Wallace beat him though. It means spending more time with his precious girlfriend. Steven laughed alongside [Y/N] as she cuddled beside him.

"We were like teenagers in love." Steven chuckled, [Y/N] laughed even more at what he said. After their laughter died down, plastered on their face was a content look with a smile. "Hey.. do you mind getting off me for a second?" [Y/N] pouted at this as she complied and move away from Steven. "I'm not heavy!" "Says who?" Steven snickered as [Y/N] hit his arm while glaring at him and huffing, returning her gaze at the sky. Now that she's distracted, Steven quickly grabs the velvet box from his coat. It's now or never after all..

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#pokemon #pokemon x reader #steven stone #steven stone x reader #pokemon steven #self req❣️

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