#who refuse to write him off entirely but loathe the person who he’s become | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

Hates to, Hate you.

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Harry realizes that hurting Y/N broke him into pieces and tries to win her back with the confession of true feelings, will Y/N let him? If yes, how? How will he walk through fire for her?

Pairing: Famous!Harry x Reader!with anxiety.

AU: fake dating, slow burn, sexual tension, enemies to lover!

Warning: Mentions of violence, sexual assault, language, adult topics.

PART 1, MASTERLIST

"Please, stop." He says dolefully rubbing his eyebrows to get rid of the ache pounding in his head.

He's miserable. It hurts to not have her with him. It's been two tragic months of going through constant sleepless nights, disrestless stomach, intoxicating himself to forget her, staring at things like a hawk and missing her terribly.

He was alone before her and never felt this lonely.

He sees her everywhere. In his dreams and her shadows in his drawing room getting excited over a ceramic vase someone gifted him. Dancing in his kitchen to the beat of pink floyd and hip-checking him for a cheerful nudge, in his back garden rescuing a sparrow who broke it's neck and in his attic stressing over her assignments.

Everything reminds him of her. The fruity drinks that the barista's handing to the people, the fairy lights upon their heads and how she used to fond over them —- buying it for his bedroom too and when he refused to hang them, she just brushed off his snarky comment and did it herself.

The ring in Harris finger floods back all the bitter-sweet memories of the time he refused to have a lil fun with her, (Y/N and Harris made friendship rings and bracelets for eachother with the colorful beads to spend their boring time in his home waiting for him to write some lines before they went to a gumball shop) as they try to knock some senses in their friend's brain, "You tried to dodge a heartbreak and still ended up shattering your heart, yourself." They worry about him. That he's been bearing the pain all alone and not sharing it with anyone.

His voice croak-y and hoarse, "How's she?" The question haunts him. She blocked his phone number and even in the wee hours of night he wrecks his mind whether he should call her or not, he couldn't because she doesn't want to hear his voice.

He misses her voice. He misses her complaints and whines as if they filled the stoic parts of his life with happiness.

"How'd I know?" Harris lowers down to rest their elbows on the table, "I -- I thought . . she isn't in contact with ye'?" When Harris shakes their head with a gesture that he's being truthful it sinks his heart furthermore.

He clears his throat, twisting the jewels on his hand and sucks his bottom lip to muster some courage, "I've been seeing someone." Harris chokes on the boba they were chewing on for so long, "You what?" They are completely perturbed at his statement. Even though they've been working together and been friends before Y/N came in the picture, she's still their bezzy and we don't betray our bezzies like that.

"Yeah, someone to help me sort me feelings out." Harry frowns confusedly and then realization washes upon him so he becomes frantic in his chair, "No . . not what you're thinkin'." He runs his fingers through his hair to subside the twitch in them.

"A therapist, 'm talkin' bout a therapist . ." He sighs watching his tea waft down sympathetically.

"Oh. That's a good start, Harry!" Harris tries to bring the same dimply boyish smile that used to flutter over his lips whenever she used to tease him, unfortunately it never appears.

Y/N didn't handle her first ever heartbreak well. She lost her appetite, her focus on her studies and to her surprise didn't shed a single tear –-- it just kept piling in her chest and she waited for the moment it'd burst until she saw those pictures plastered all over social media. Pictures of him with some model that isn't a shorty pants like her at all, totally how those ladies described his type to be and someone with whom he wouldn't be embarrassed to hang out with.

She's everything, Y/N's jealous of. Those sparkling blue eyes compared to her boring brown ones, handsome figure and the radiance of richness.

Then she got stuck into her life responsibilities and worried about other things such that; she wasn't able to pay any bills and her flat's rent despite doing two part time jobs along with doing her class-fellows assignments in return of money and still got kicked out of it. Her close friend offered her to live in her studio and she has made it her kitchen, study, sleeping room with her stuff and clothes scattered everywhere.

She lives on noodles and toasted breads sometimes treating herself with delights of kit-kat bars in the middle of nights.

Watches her friend do her work and leave when the night comes by —- she has never felt this lonely in her entire life.

"So, was it love at first sight?" Nora her friend asks, handing her cuppa tea and a scone. Y/N let a weak sad smile slip, shaking her head and reminiscing all those moments where she was falling in love with him without even realizing, "Falling in love slowly patiently is the most beautiful . . . at some time I used to loathe his existence but staying with him and after knowing him, it was like --— an escapeless tunnel. I didn't realize it, till one day I woke up and my heart saw him in a different light, where I wanted to give him all me lovin' but he wasn't ready for it." She shrugs sipping the hot beverage and doesn't flinch from the burn that tingles at the tip of her tongue.

When she put her cup aside Nora takes her hand assuring her sweetly, "You'll have that person soon -- he's just on his way, with a big bouquet of roses and a teddy bear to give you the lovin' you deserve." Y/N giggles at that waving her off and not showing how her person is still Harry. What does she do to forget him? To fool her in thinking he isn't her first love.

"Aish, Nora aren't you gettin' late? Gooo." She had some clients to meet before she stopped here at studio to grab some things but it turned into a girlie hangout, "Take care honey and don't forget to put a bucket there." She points to the corner where water's dripping from the rooftop and Y/N exhaled an exasperated sigh of breath when the door clicks leaving her alone yet again.

It was past twelve and when usually she pulls an all nighter to study -- today she decided to sleep early. Her bad habit of overthinking kicks in again, this time it's not over some silly thing but she ponders over where she went wrong? She should've kept her feelings to herself and atleast would have been sleeping in her bed cuddled with her chonky cat Zippy.

She misses Zippy badly.

A noise of door unlocking loudly drags her from her reverie and her heart pounds against her ribcage ready to break it. Who could be at this hour of night? It could be Nora since she's the only one who got keys to the place.

Sitting up quickly she squints against the blinding lights and watches someone's boot stepping over her blanket that flopped onto the floor from the sofa she's sleeping on.

"Kevin? What are you doing here?" He's Nora's boyfriend and her classfellow. He just shrugs tumbling his way towards the sofa and she tries to scoot back from him as much as possible, "I'm here to see you. . ." He slurs. It knocks her breath out, filling terror in her veins as the heels of her feet rub against the leather of the couch in her effort to be away from him.

"What? This's not appropriate I -- I . . suggest you to call Nora s –- so, what're you doin —-" She squeaks in fear sinking into the couch when he towers over her and traps her under him with his hands on either side of her body aggressively, "I like you. Why don't you get it!!" She flinches when he shouts angrily with bloodshot eyes and the smell of alcohol disgusts her springing tears in her eyes.

"Please, stop . . ." She whispers with silent tears running down her throat using all her strength to push at his shoulders but he grips her hips tightly and yanks at her sleeping shirt revealing the strap of her bralette. She couldn't even cry for help. It's useless so putting some belief in herself for the last time she uses all her power and kicks him in his crotch pushing him roughly on the floor.

His nails tear at her delicate skin but she doesn't care before running out of the studio ignoring the names he's calling her from behind.

She runs away, away and away. Not thinking twice where she's going before crossing the bridges and tunnels. It feels like her ears are bleeding with the echo of loud horns of traffic and the hopelessness of her life makes her fall on her knees. She cries all the tears she was bottling up for months feeling like she's running out of time and reaching dangerously near to her end.

She's been in the same neighbourhood she's been before many times. The chilly wind doesn't prick goosebumps over her skin, the night's darkness doesn't scare her and the stray dog that's barking somewhere in far doesn't affect her at all as she stares at the door from where she has stepped into her comfort space many times.

Harry's with Scottie. His childhood friend who's here in London for some shoot. They were lounged in the living room talking their hearts out and their cringey memories from when they were small when he halted mid-talk, jaw slacking when his eyes took the sight of someone standing at his main door from the multiple security screens appearing on the telly.

He doesn't believe at first. Thinking he's hallucinating and that maybe he just saw a flicker of a ghost but when she looks up revealing her sad face and those big brown eyes he rushes to open the door.

"Fuck." He breathes out working on the heavy cold locks of the oak door with shaky hands anxiously and she was about to walk away with her back turned to him when he spurts out her name in haste, "Y/N." She listens to him. Insides breaking with the nirvana and scent of him surrounding her.

His breath hitches in his throat when she spins to meet his apprehensive gaze and she doesn't give him a chance to have a proper look at her before falling in his arms, her head hitting his chest and body shaking vigorously as she sobs sadly.

"Darlin'?" He asks worriedly, slipping his arms around her shoulders to lull her in his embrace, "Are you oka?" He feels like his stomach ate his heart as he anticipates an explanation from her and she isn't doing anything but crying.

"You're scarin' me, pet. What happened honey?" He pulls away to cradle her face in his calloused palms. His chests pangs with hurt and remorse upon seeing her tear stained cheeks, wobbly blue lips, and disheveled state.

He steps inside with her still in his arms and rubs his hand down her spine to calm her down as little sad sniffles and hiccups keep slipping out of her mouth.

He sits her on the sofa squatting down infront of her and Scottie brings her water. When she refuses to drink it because Harry strokes his thumb against the apple of her cheek, "Shh, 's okay . . you're okay. You're with me now, sweet girl." It's like the world and anything else has blurred around him and his ever priority's focusing on her only. His observant gaze dawdles from her face to her bruised shoulder emitting an afflicted gasp of trepidity from between his lips and it deepens to a growl when it fell over her hip-bone where the fabric of her pyjama's spotted with blood.

He glances up at Scottie who gives him a knowing look of horror. He gets closer to her and she doesn't retract as his thumb streaks away the blood oozing from her shoulder gently, saying nothing as he examines it.

After a brief pause Y/N's heart skips a nervous beat when he tilts her chin to have a better look at her face, taking in the evidence of someone handling his petal so brutally it left scratches at her face.

Harry looks her dead in the eyes. His anger barely restrained tippling from the pot ready to leave burns, his voice is tense and quite, ears heating with wrath.

"Who did this to you?"

"Kevin." The tears are back at her waterline more concerned that he's panicking because of her and Scottie sits beside her massaging her shoulders.

"Kevin, who?" Harry's question is curt controlling himself from finding this mother fucker himself and beat the shit out of him, "H -- he's my friend's boyfriend, I though --– was sleeping in her studio 'n 'n --- when he . . . he —-- " She hides her face in her palms unable to speak but Harry quickly pulls her down in a comforting hug whispering sweet things to stop her crying.

She parts from him with puffy eyes and swollen lips shaking her head at her stupidity, "I … I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here, 'm gonna leave — ' " She's a weeping blubbering mess trying to stand up on her jello legs with the help of the couch's armrest.

He catches her wrist crying out, "No! Don't! please, please stay . . . . fo' me?" Scottie has never seen him like this. Bended out of shape for a person, begging them on his knees to protect them as he rambles loudly.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden on you, I -- I'll go in the morning." Since she has nowhere to go it's better she sleeps here for a night instead of on the streets.

Harry finds it ironic. That once he didn't want her overnights now he wants her all days and weeks, perhaps till the end of his life.

He's gonna win her back.

He hands her his tattered comfy sleeping clothes and the spare toothbrush leaving her to it. When he comes back downstairs Scottie's waiting for him at the main door.

"You should report a file against that bastard the first thing in the morning." Scottie tells him seriously and he nods. His head snaps when she spoke softly, smiling at him, "You're in love."

"What?"

"I haven't seen you like that with anyone, Harry. Make it to her foolish boi -- tell her what you feel." She laughs, jolting him with his shoulders and he smiles timidly bidding her a good-bye.

The door to her room's ajar opened as he peeks inside to make sure she's okay and sighs deeply when finds her staring blankly at the ceiling. The floorboard creaks when he pads inside quietly and her stare diverts to him while he stands on the foot of bed, "I read somewhere that cuddlin' helps ye'sleep better, you w'na try?" She hums in return, fisting the duvet under her chin and slip shuts her eyes remaining stiff in her spot when he slides under the duvet closer to her.

She turns into a puddle when his long arms wrap around her tummy, "Is this okay?" His voice a mere whisper of care earning an honest nod from her -- his thigh strings over her legs to cocoon her in his warmth completely, ". . and this?" She again nod at him so,

He smushes his cheek into the crook of her neck and she could feel something moist on her skin while his lips puckered to speak, "Y/N?" He murmures broken and sad snuggling more into her.

"Hmm?" She hums, the exhaustion from walking and crying this much forcing her to sleep, "I've missed you, terribly." Her heart leaps and she wants to exchange the familiarity of emotions but her tongue remains heavy in her mouth.

Her toes curls and fingers clutches the wrinkly fabric of the pillow case she had her head rested on but now it's slipping down from over it due to her body shaking vigorously as she tries to escape those filthy, gruesome hands like a terrifying shadows of evil choking her throat and sucking the life out of her.

Harry's head snaps down to where she was snuggled to his side moments ago when she murmur-yells no,no,no,no'. He feels like someone placed a heavy brick over his chest at the sight of his lovie writhing like a leaf petrified of whatever she's dreaming of and his shoulders rolls back while he perches on his elbow to shake her gently out of it.

"Y/N . . ." He remains dulcet. Chewing onto his already swollen bottom lip since he didn't even close his eyes the entire night manipulating the plush flesh, he doesn't know what kept him awake —- but it sure was this sense of responsibility to make her feel protected under his wings. She smacks his arm away pushing at his chest with her all might to skid away to the edge of the bed in her sleepy state, so he quickly hunches on wobbly knees to catch her before she falls.

"It's just me, Angel, Harry –- wake up darlin'," His heart beating ominously frantic and head jumbling with horrible thoughts of what she's going through as her warmed up cheeks soak with tears, he has never seen her like this, he never wanted to see her for the first time after months like this --- shattered to pieces and drained of her energy.

He smooths his thumb to caress her cheek slightly and swipe those sad tears away. She wakes up with a gasp making him jerk his chin back, blinking rapidly to confirm her surroundings and her fearful vision zeros to his panicked features. She places her palms against his pectorals to make sure he's real and there and that ugly nightmare just ended, "Harry?" He gulps the thick web of tears down his throat and bobs his head.

"Yes, sweet girl, Harry . . ." The very streaks of golden rays sneak through the curtains and dances between their faces as she fists the hem of his shirt, "It was just a nightmare." He assures her running his hand up and down her arms to calm her down.

"Don't be afraid, dovie' won't let anybody hurt ya from now on, g'na protect you —--" It was the last straw for her before she flipped him over and climbed out of his bed to get out from his room.

"Shit." He drives into a state of frenzy following her down the stairs like a puppy almost missing a step or two as she wears the slippers she came in last night, "Where ye' goin'?" His muscles twitch in a hurry to make his next move and save whatever's between them that's keeping him sane, " Dunno, away from you." She shrugs, lost in her own fog and the sting in his heart's unbearable with the inflammation of hurt.

"Why?" He tumbles through the last step and infront of her, eyes bloodshot and heart how from the squeezing agony of loosing her for second time for the same cause.

"Because, I w'na forget about you!!" The scream she had in her lungs to convey her anger gets stuck in her throat. His shoulders slump from the burden of guilt and regret.

"Why?" He feels like throwing up with the unbearable anguish of him hurting to a point he wants to wash his memories out of her mind.

"Because you make me so confused, Harry…" Her face pinches into an exasperated expression of hopelessness while she nudges him aside to pass by him and to the main door but he catches her wrist before she could step outside and never come back to him, "I wouldn't confuse you from now on …. 've been better fo' you y/n, 'cos I want you to know that I'm yours." His confession springes her off guard by pure stupefaction and when she looks at him -- he's already gazing at her as if she's the moon surrounded by singing stars.

"Please, let me fight for you baby." Tears springs at his waterline ready to welcome a sob out of his lungs. Because he knows he'll be unable to live his life without her, his love will rot in the cage of his heart because he'd never be able to express it for anyone except her.

He continues not holding back anything from her instead unlocking another love language and that's being vulnerable and completely defenceless to her, "While being with you I still thought a part of me was in love with my ex and I didn't want ya to be me second priority, could neve', was so so wrong 'cos even though you're not my firsts you're gonna be my lasts. I'll make sure that you're." He gulps down the tears blocking his wind pipes and making it difficult to speak.

"I want you to give us another chance, to forgive me and give me a proper chance to love you 'cos that's what you deserve . .." The sincerity and genuineness in his stained smaragdine irises turns her pudgy in his hold, ". . . you deserve all the lovin' in this world, honey."

"Work for it then." She tells him and his pretty eyes widen adorably as of some golden fish, a vivacious smile adorns his features and he doesn't take a moment before swiping her off her feet and into his arms to hug her tightly.

His insides feels like nourishing after a time with contentment and satisfaction.

To have his loved one in his arms.

In his life.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank youuu." He rambles into the crook of her neck, elated and joyful. Swaying their bodies together and making her smile softly after a prolonged time of suffering.

She'll heal.

He'll make sure to put ointment of affection and love on her wounds to help her heal, for herself but nobody else.

"You've got to be kidding me!" She mutters putting the alcohol swab on his torn bleeding knuckles and he squeaks locking his calf around her ankle, "Ouch! Ye' mad woman."

Harry and her went to file a report against Kevin, along with Nora who became her witness because she despises that disgusting of a man to be even around her and her studio let alone her boyfriend.

Harry was her biggest support through the whole process and dropped her off assuring her he'll pick all her stuff from Nora's place. There he was, Kevin. Stumbling at the footpath after Nora kicked him and his luggage out.

Harry's very patient and optimistic but not when his loved ones get hurt. He didn't know what was happening around him before he sprinted towards Kevin and punched him square in his face, breaking his nose and busting his own knuckles with a fierce shout of "y'son of a bastard!"

"If I ever . . . ever see ya near her, I promise that you wouldn't be able to see the living daylight." He grunted, resisting to hit him in the shin with his boots and walked past him to the studio to collect her stuff.

He was grief stricken seeing the way she had to live and not finding her pet cat anywhere. His heart could be heard cracking into tinytinytiny pieces when Nora told him that Y/N gave it to the vet since she was unable to afford it.

When she catches him staring up at her like a love-stricken puppy she huffs wrapping a band-aid around his knuckles, "'M mad at you." He seems unfazed making her gasp when brings her closer with his legs wrapped around her's, "Why . . . you're always mad at me." He whines jutting out his bottom lip and she shakes her head at his silly dotiness.

"You -– you can't go hurtin' yourself fo' me, H." She's very unaware, because certainly he'd do it as many times.

She narrows down her eyes to squint him in offense when he brushes her comment off with nonchalance and raises his bandaged wrist up to her face, "Will you kiss it better' fo' me, pet?" Her insides crumbles like dry rose petals falling from a beloved book of her favourite romances.

"Hmm?" He nudges it in a questioning suppressing a smirk. She wipes her clammy and antiseptic hands down her trousers not meeting his gaze while taking his hand awkwardly but delicately closer to where her soft mouth is located; she halts glowering at him, "Only if you ask nicely."

"That wasn't nice? Thought I was being a good boy there." He mumbles diligently pulling at the hem of her shirt and she bites down a smile, fingers still wrapped round his wrist.

"Pretty please…?" He wheezes his words out begging-ly -- upper lip curving, pupils dilating and she shrugs, "..if you insist so.." His grin was immaculate that of golden sun when she pressed her lips to his knuckles carefully giving it a gentle pat afterward.

"Not doing that again." She breathes out the air she was winding up inside her for so long. Spinning on her heels to turn her back towards him and put the first aid back under the sink, "We'll see 'bout that, let's do some grocery." He stands up patting his thighs loudly, "Wouldn't be surprised if we'll find bugs in me cabinet instead of goodies."

They've been roaming isles for an hour now and they always end up fighting who will push it. Harry doesn't let her because she keeps on filling it with instant noodles, chocolate bars and sakurai oreos.

"How about we try to live till our fifties wouldn't be that beautiful?" He follows behind her closely. His chest brushes against her shoulders everytime she makes a stop to cooes over some brightly coloured food and candies, "'M trying to make it till next year, dunno 'bout you." She mutters grumpy-ly tossing another packet of cherry lollipop inside the trolley.

He puts it back.

With a strict warning glare to her way.

"I want you to stay healthy." He says sternly glaring up at her from his ducked position. She tosses the lollipop back from the shelf, "'M paying for my things." She dismisses him off panning deadly.

"Fo' fucks sake, 's not 'bout money!" He grits annoyed at her stubbornness and she arches her brow leaning against the trolley, "Harry…'m not an actress or some high-paid model. Lemme enjoy real things, okay? Or just say you'd look too outta my league standing next to me." Her brows pints down into a frown and her shoulder slumps with her body further relaxing against the trolley.

She's up for a debate with him right in the middle of the junk food aisle if that's the case.

"See. That's why I don't want to be married!" A couple from far banters off in astonishment catching Y/N completely off guard.

"Uh-ah!" She yelps getting startled from the boom of interruption and a high-pitch squeaks leaves out of her petite lungs when the trolley rolls from under her perched elbow making her stumble for a nice trip but the bang never came as Harry coiled his arm around her waist to pull her on stable feet with a firm hand over her smallest of back.

His gentle pupils flicker between her frenzied one's, noses tickling and teasing each other with each spurt of breath that rushes out of her parted soft mouth and against his cheek.

"Maybe it's not that bad after all." The couple who were planning their future based on another couple, who's not even a couple yet but trying to work on it with their shared amount of affection; sighs in awement leaving Harry and Y/N in their own bubble.

He takes her by the elbow and helps her with his lips thinned, "Careful there." His mumble is deep and coherent husk.

She didn't whine about his green vegetables, boring low fat cheese and planned meals, celery or whatever that shit is, after that. Walking by his side like a kid who just got relief from his time out punishment.

While on the counter she asked him politely rather than biting his head of, "Lemme pay please. I'm already imposing on you by staying at your place." She knows that he wouldn't let her. Harry wants to take care of her -- in every way. He just hopes she warms up to him slowly that there will be a day she thinks of his home as hers too, oh how the table turns!

T'not make her think that his love for her is only restrictive to materialistic things he lets her pay --- but for half of it.

"D'ya got a change, miss?" The cashier asks her and she cranes her neck up to him. He denies waving his credit card with a disappointed expression so she quickly takes a chewing gum from the racks beside in return for the change.

He stops in his tracks. Watching her with glinting eyes more like fawning at her when she sways on her feet happily swinging the bag in her hold side by side.

"C'mon Harry!" She grins twiddling her fingers in a gesture to usher him where she's standing beside his car, "Yup. On your command, darlin'." He shakes his head. To fetch himself from the fond-land he always enters with anything she does.

There's a low hum of telly buzzing in the room as they sit crossed legs on the coffee rug with their knees brushing if any of them moves their bum a tad, while they slurp onto the remaining soup in the noodles cup.

This whole time he wanted to say something, to talk to her, his heart out and make it a domestic routine of sharing stuff while they eat comfy in eachother's presence but seems like his tongue betrays him everytime and his needy eyes always want to admire her and the little things she does.

He licks his lips, nodding profusely when she asks for his cup and chopsticks to take to the kitchen. A huge sigh of relief vanishes out from his chest when she disappears inside giving him time to re-collect himself, he rummages through the bag to take out the chewing gum they bought at the last moment.

He rips the packet with his teeth but it remains pressed there between his morals when he senses the familiarity of the foil --- she bought a fucking condom out of accident!

At the same moment she pads outside halting in her tracks infront of him with a horrendous expression as her peepers wouldn't stop blinking. He doesn't not know what got into him but he throws it her way as if he's utterly disgusted by it.

Sinks into the couch and refuses to meet her gaze. She throws it back at him, "I don't want it, keep it you might need it." There he goes. The smugness fuels back as he outstretches his arm over the back of the couch and man-spreads scrutinizing the way her eyes linger at his meaty thighs before flicking them away with a nervous gulp.

"You've already planned it all out, hun?" He smirks rubbing the belly of his nose with his pinky's knuckle and she folds her elbows under her breasts shaking her head at his teasing, "Yeah planning to . . . murder you t'night." She laughs out evilly when his eyes widen comically.

"Hmm. I see. Didn't know ye' were this kinky 'n naughty." She rolls her eyes at his edgy nip. She wouldn't admit it but him testing her patience turns her hot and flustered.

"Night, H." She yawns and his heart grows ten times bigger at the softness of her appearance. She cranes her head against her shoulder to look at him from the spot she's standing at when his voice calls for her, "Y/N!? Ye'really into knives? In the bed I mean." His grin mischievous knowing fully well what he's doing to her as he waits for her answer propped on his knees.

She slams the door at his face and he plops back into the sofa with a pouty victorious smile.

Harry didn't realise that in the middle of watching Gilmore Girls on the telly he fell asleep straining his neck from keeping it in a weird angle, his arms hugging the pillow and feet dangling adorably nowhere. He groans knuckling away the sleep and tries to wake up when he heard a feeble noise of someone taking his name until he looks up and finds Y/N towering him with her fluffy cream blanket pinched around her head darlingly.

"What happened, pet? Y'okay!?" He gasps trying to sit up and take her precious face to inspect her properly but she shakes her head and lays him back gently.

Her nose runny and cheeks rosied as she asks for a favour from him, "Can I -- um," She wipes her nose with the sleeve of her sweater paw. He doesn't question her further and opens his long arms to welcome her for a warm embrace.

"C'mere, pet." His whisper delicate to her.

She lies down pressed to his front resting her head on his sprawled arm and scooches herself closer to him smiling shyly against his hoodie where a Harry is embroidered in pink thread. It's like a gust of fresh spring and dew of nighty mountains as Harry takes a relaxing breather snuggling her impossibly affectionately close to himself, petting down her sweet smelling hair.

"Y'can talk to me 'bout anythin'." Their heart-beats in sync as he keeps his palm spread at her back to protect her from falling, "Ye' know that right?" He pulls back to cradle her chin between his fingers and look her in eyes sincerely.

"I know that button. Sleep for now, hmm?" He smiles softly, shutting his eyes from giving out how much a mere love name's enough to fuse him into a cloud of giddiness.

In the morning though, Harry's a small spoon and Y/N a big one. Her limbs trying to latch to his body in every way possible with her cheek smashed against his shoulder blade.

His lips quirks up into a lazy loopy smile full of contentment and peacefulness as he weaves his each finger into her's to bring her knuckles to his mouth and smother it in kisses, "Rise n' shine you furball." He rasps. chin doubling adorably as he tries to look at his squirmy girl.

He turns to face her side, temples touching and lips hovering over eachother's skin. He feels her smiling against his chin as she cuddles up into him, "I'd like to make you a brekkie…." She murmurs playing with baby curls on the nape of his neck.

"Dunno 'bout that. What if you poison me, t'death?" He giggles and she smacks his belly pouting grumpy-ly.

"Offer, expired. no more brekkie for you." She tells him wiggling out of his grip and walks towards kitchen but burst into gleeful laugh when he wraps around her calves like a koala bear, "Was jokinnnn', babe." He emphasizes his words with a twinge of whine and she meanders her hand in his ruffled curls.

"Kay! Kay! But, I could only make you omelette and sour bread." He jumps back on his feet enthusiastically looping his arm around her clavicles, "No problem. Glad t'eat anythin' made from your lovely hands."

She made him brekkie and he made fabulous peach tea for them. She blabbered off and he listened with careful ears. He praised her with glinting proud eyes and she treasured these praises in her heart.

While she chewed slowly he messaged his manager that he couldn't come to any working place for a week or so. He wants to make it special and memorable for them, their honeymoon phase.

"D'ya have any class today?" He asks her leaning towards her atop the counter, "Nope 's Saturday dummy." She chuckles flicking her thumb against his forehead and he gives a dimpled grin with bolted shut eyes.

"Yeah … silly me."

"Why?"

"So that I could take ye' ona date." His inners bouncing desperate to know her answer, "Me?" She points at herself surprised with parted lips.

"Yes you, is there somebody else sitting with us? Hello?" He calls for that non-existent person and she suckles her bottom lip to subside her squeals down. She breathes out, "Some ghostie? Evil spirit? Jesus himself —-" She cuts his banter of. With a light slap to the back of his hand.

"Okay." She says with an excited shake of head happiness bare in her words and Harry literally slips from his seat padding towards her in haste, "I'd love to." She confirms with a sweet smile and he hooks his nimble finger around her jeans loop to pull her closer to him for a fervid emotional hug.

She was a frolic mess in her room trying out her outfits and fitting into her skirts, trousers anything that could match perfectly. Deciding to terminate any ideas to wear cotton floral sun-dresses instead ends up tucking a baby pink sweater into her chequered white and black plaid trouser along with a pair of Mary Janes booties.

She took huge puffs of breath to calm her wild heart down when the knock on her door appeared. He decided to be a full on romantic today doing all the date rituals without any shame dressing up in a silk shirt three shades lighter than her's, with a pussy bow around his neck and she thinks she couldn't be more in love with him as he has a bunch of sunflowers and jasmines in the cracks of his jewels adorned fingers.

"Well, well, well, Look who came to their enemy's door holding presents." She smirks and he scowls, "Oh cut it. 'M here to pick y'up fo' our date."

What makes her lose her mind's Zippy on his shoulder.

"Oh my goodness! Harry!" She leaps towards him and takes her fluffy beast in her arms and showers Zippy's crown with many many kisses, "Thank you!" She cries out joyfully wrapping her free arm around his waist and cuddles him for dear life.

"I lo —-- " She thinks it'd be embarrassing to say it on the first date and Harry almost had a mini heart-attack but she changed her words, "I can't be more grateful to you, thank you so much."

"Now, stop thankin' me hunny." He gives her the flowers he plucked himself from his backyard and kisses the apple of her cheek turning her into a gooey mesh.

"Where is it?" She avoids checking him out.

"Why should I tell ya?" He nudges her to lock her elbow around his and she gazes up at him with loving eyes, "'cos 'm your date that's why."

"Bribe me then." He grins bashfully.

"Harry!!" She gasps and huffs tipy-toeing timidly to plant a soft kiss to his chin but it lands against his throat making him thin his lips to give out a noise that could embarrass both of them.

"Not telling you." He squeaks dragging her outside into the porch and she whines, "You leech!"

"You did not!" She snaps her neck in utter exhilaration from the view in front of her and towards Harry who's watching her with puffed cheeks to not to give out his bunny smile as her face turns guppy. The sunshine dawdles around them and she pulls him down to her level with the tug of their intertwined hands, "You're somethin' else, Styles." It warms his blood. Bursting sentiments of pure love and amiability through each orifice that leads to his heart.

"Only fo' you." He whispers stroking the plush of her cheek -- restraining to place his needy lips on her alluring pillow one's inviting him to have a good taste of their sweetness before they could taste the ripeness of strawberries growing at the farm he just took her.

"Uhm. Let's see who could collect more!" She grins pushing herself three steps away from him with support of his pecs, "What's the prize?" He asks pawing at her hips to keep her in intimate distance and she giggles tapping his chin.

"A feeling of saccharine-ss and sweetness when we'll eat those strawberries out." She tries not to step on heavy branches that are still growing and makes her way to the fresh patch, "Perhaps, that could be acquired from eatin' somethin' else out too." His wet lips brushes against her earlobe as he speaks, sending a shiver down her spine.

"You're being very loud and lewd." She pokes him in ribs. Squatting down to pluck a juicy perfectly sized strawberry and hovering it against his mouth to give him a taste, "Hmm what could I say 'm a man of dirty words." His eyes darken to an intoxicating shade of emerald as his heart-shaped magenta lips wrap around the strawberry to split it in two with his teeth.

He still remembers. How her mouth tasted that night, how her lips came molding around his's like a stamp of a lover's letter and her body fitted against his's like a lost piece of puzzle.

Just made for him.

"Harry …" She's out of words. Maybe, breath.

"Yes dovie?" He hooks his finger into her belt's loop to saturate the thread like distance between them and makes tight hold at the nape of her neck to crane her head up to meet his honey eyed gaze, "D'ya know how to make strawberry mochi?" His shoulder slumps at her question and he rests his cheek atop her temple cutely.

"Noo." His voice sort of whine-y.

"No, problem. We'll make it together." She chuckles turning back to collect the strawberries into her basket.

She never had this fun. Messing around with him. Feeding eachother the sweet fruit. Him scaring her that some rat sprinted by her feet and enjoying the way she jumps at him, only wheezing comically when she throws a blow at him.

Her giggles bounces off each and every ivory flower and leafy plant as he pins her to the viridescent grass, with his thighs and tickles her non-stop. What started as raspberries turns into sloppy smothers of kisses all over her face.

"Harry!!" She bursts into another fit of laughter, "Stop." She warns him squeezing her thighs around his waist and he giggles challenging her.

"O'what? Huhh?" She closes her eyes nuzzling into his arm that's trapping her down, "Or I'll kiss you…" Her voice gentle and dulcet making his grip loosen and heartbeat fastens like a thunderbolt.

"'M not afraid of that." He gives a toothy grin sneaking a glance at her hand which's gliding up his throat to cup his cheek, eyelids fluttering like petals from breeze as she smudges her sweet mesh coated lips against his's in a tenderly ardent, and yearningly amiable kiss feeling her pulse ring in her ears with so much force.

His fingers make their home down her smooth hair to cup the nape of her neck, elbows digging into mud when he lifts her up to deepen the kiss sloppily. Just her. Only her. Swirling inside of him as his very thought.

Their noses crooking perfectly, skins kissing and bodies hitched to eachother with the knot of souls.

She whimpers into his mouth squishing the poor strawberry she was holding in her free hand from the intensity of fierce sentiments she's spiraling in; to have him all and swallow him all because he's that damn gorgeous. His tongue pokes and tickles the plush insides of her small mouth tasting the strawberry straight from where he loves the most. His belly burning with the fire of desire feeling the way her body's reacting with puriency to his subtle touches of affection.

He was dying to have a kiss from her the day she gave him her lips that night and he couldn't resist but to think about it regularly.

A wet filthy sound bubbles around them when they part away with the remnants of spit in the form of intricate strings connecting them; that breaks when he relaxes his forehead against her's taking a good breather of mossy air.

"S' messy." He tuts when his eyes fall at her palm covered in strawberry pulp.

She gasps giddy-ly when he pokes his pink tongue out and takes a huge swipe up her palm with an erotic hum that rattled her insides.

"H -- arry." She nibbles at her bottom lip to filter noises she's unable to hold meanwhile he sucks her fingers one by one to clean them, her panties twisting with an ache of want.

"Hmm. All nice 'n clean, now we should go." He says flipping her wrist to act as if he's inspecting it. Brushes the dirt of his trousers leaving her baffled and grumpy. When she doesn't stand up he squats down at her level arching a brow at her and before she could know what's happening she's thrown over his broad shoulder like a rag doll.

Her squeals hearty and giggly as she tries to punch his back but her breath gets caught in her throat when his large hand comes spanking her butt-cheek. He waits for her reaction —- grinning cheekily when she sucks in her weak mewls and grabs the back of his neck blabbering his name off.

He puts her back on the ground once out on the gravel path and hands her the basket piled with strawberries. Ducks down to sponge a kiss to her cheek telling her to stay glued to her spot as he leaves to pay.

She smiles down at her feet then at the sky revinding all the moments and their lovely kiss that makes her feel all warm and stupidly gooey.

While boarding the train he wiggles his finger behind himself to get a hold on her and keep her close to him, craning his neck with a lopsided sly smile, "Hold me hand."

"If you insist." She nods with a grin slipping her fingers over his palm and he wovens them with his own with a firm grip stepping inside the train and helps her to do so with his free hand behind her head.

She sighs. Sitting with her back pressed against the window of the train. One leg folded and other dangling from the seat as she stares at Harry with a pouty smile.

"Don't ya think you're sittin' too far away from me?" He says, grabbing her knee, "Come here." And slides her towards himself now their thighs overlapping. He doesn't like even the mere distance between them —-- might sound sappy but he wants to be like her scent.

"Happy?" She pinches his cheek and he winces dramatically ruffling her already loose tresses of hair making her look as if she was on a roller coaster minutes ago, "aren't you a one clingy bunny!" She huffs trying to blow away the hair falling in her eyes. He bobs his head in agreement and slings his elbow around her shoulders to tuck her under his chin protectively.

"Okie, now add some sugar in it —- aish slow down …" She coughs waving away the sugar dust tickling her nostrils as Harry poured so much sugar all at once. He has his chin rested on her head and her hips crooned against his thighs as they make the strawberry and vanilla mochi together.

His puffer jacket on her shoulders (To the time they went to buy grocery stuff it started being cold and Harry being a mommy he took out his jacket and bundled her up in it) —- She sneezes and he quips pecking her hair, "Bless your heart." Fetches her a tissue too.

"Thank you, bubs." She giggles grabbing his jaw bringing him down to smooch a kiss to his lips. She pulls back but he persists snaking his palm around the nape of her neck to keep her put —- she gives in with her heart fluttering like candle flame in a destructive storm.

Turns in his embrace and hooks her elbows behind his head patching tiny, tiny, tiny pecks on his pillowy lips until he gets desperate to kiss her mouth and tongue pushing her to his front by gliding his hand into the back-pocket of her jeans.

Her head lulls. Feeling as if the kitchen got filled with candy clouds floating around her when he cradles her cheeks in his both palms lapping at her bottom lip and nips at it with every whimper of desire that falls, "Mine." He breathes out rubbing the bridge of his nose up and down her cheek like a puppy nuzzling into his favourite plushie.

"Yours." She says without any hesitation.

He smashes his wet lips back on hers. Swirls of gleeful colours surrounding them as he feels like he could kiss her forever.

She gasps gazing down lustfully at his wine cherried lips when he holds her from waist and sits her on the wooden counter, "I want you to take me." She murmurs nailing at the silk of his top and he paws at her hip-bones cravingly, it makes her feel like one the most desired women alive.

"I'm all yours to pleasure you lovie'," He looks her in the eyes with so much love and affection it melts her whole, "Just ask me and I'll give me girl what she wants …. " He says trailing sloppy kisses down her throat. Her head falls against the tiled wall giving him more access to her skin --- so he could mark her as he wishes.

The heat from his mouth to her bare skin arouses her to an extent she feels wetness sticking to the insides of her thighs with each grind of his crotch against her's.

She tugs at the roots of his curls, mouth parted around a moan when he grazes his touch over her plump breasts, "Is this okay?" He asks breathlessly and she bobs her head vigorously latching onto him.

"Yes, please, more … " He blinks to let reality sink in when she raises her arms in the air for him to get rid of her clothes.

He smiles. Hard. Crinkles forming by his eyes and cheery lines around his mouth as she looks up at him with those doe eyes glinting with his own reflection.

She squirms grumpily and he cackles loudly when she hooks his fingers into the hem of her jeans as a sign that "just undress me right now and fuck me hard over this counter." But, the romantic sap he's just keeps on being a tease.

"Fuck me already." She huffs locking her ankles behind his back.

"Trust me, I want it as bad as y'do but are you sure —-- "

"I'm --- just fuck …. " She cuts him off, cupping his cheeks and kisses his mouth. He groans when she sucks his swollen lip in between his teeth and lifts her pelvis grinned against his swell lining in his trouser to elaborate her neediness through actions,

He undresses her finally folding them and putting them away nicely while she stays a breathless mess just in her undies, her sheer panties soaked in her juices and profanities of moans fuses into air from both of them as Harry places his hands on her knees. Irises darkening with lust when he looks at the delicate lines of her drippy pussy lips forming from underneath the material.

"Spread your legs, I want to feel how turned on I made you feel." His voice an obscene grunt and it tingles her core making her feel she should obey him, "Fuckin' hell." His moan is dirty as he rubs the pad of his long digits against her soaked centre. His piercing gaze flitting between her thighs crumbled her in the best way possible.

She fists the hem of his top, tugging at it with the blabbering of his name.

A series of pornographic whines leaves her through her nose when he demands her to raise her bum so he could get rid of the last thing being a bother to them.

"Oh my — " She arches her spine when his fingers withered in her stickiness, between her glistening pussy lips to her mound pinching her clitoris in the way and listens to the soapy noises he's creating while lathering his hand with her juices he'd love more to coat his tongue with.

"This is what you want, hmm? For me to bend you over this counter right fucking now and pump me thick cock inside your sweet cunt from behind till you're screaming for me to ram harder inside you, so deep that you feel me in your little tummy and I keep it there for hours making you cum on it again and again — many time that you're milky and cramped around my prick like a filthy girl you're." He dips his impossibly sweet pink tongue inside her mouth and makes her sip down his dirty words through her throat not letting her mewls slip out as his lengthy finger slicks inside her causing her melt against his chest with a turmoil of emotions and heat she never felt before.

Her brain whirles with the mantra of fuckfuckfuck but her guppy lips says otherwise, she coils her arms around his shoulders scratching her nails down his neck — eyes rolling back as she shakes with the build of ecstasy.

"You're so snug and warm, sweets. Can't wait to be inside you." He husks curling his digit to give her upper wall a good rub, "Harry!" Her scream comes out gruff vibrating with a sexy octave.

"Yes, baby." He pinches her chin between his thumb and forefinger staining soft wet kisses from the corner of her lips, to her rosy cheeks and down her throat sewing love bites along her veins.

"Does it feel good, hmm? 'M g'na stuff you full of my prick bet it'll make you feel like heavens --" Her brows tenses up as he forces her to keep her eyes locked with his's and groans with the throb in his cock bound to implode with each whimper of his name she lets out hiking up her knees on the counter — the heels of her feet sticking firmly against the edge of the counter giving a carnally pleasing view for him to enjoy and ooze with sticky precum.

He huffs out breathily, fingers sliding in and out at a fast pace while he moves down to take her perky nipple between his teeth teasing it with nip of his tongue, "Fuck. Mhmm baby I've so many dirty things to d'to you, would you be an atta girl and be naughty with me?" He nuzzles his curls against her skin grinding his knuckles up and down against her swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes." She moans trying to sink impossibly deep on his fingers. He admires her in amusement as her belly twists into ripples and she thrashes in his tight hold —- broken into pieces of vulnerability foxily.

He withers his gaze to where he's driving his fingers roughly inside her and a cold shiver runs down his spine, eyelashes fluttering and he sucks his bottom lip brutally praising her softly, "yes just like that darling taking my fingers so good —- they'll look pretty down your throat too while I'll fill your other holes with me, all me." He wraps a hand around her throat giving it a light squeeze and it was enough to spread warmth and the saccharine feeling of fullness in her every tissue gushing over his fingers.

"You're mine." He growls nipping at her sweet spot –-- wearing her out with his continuous different motions inside her. His wrist glistening with her come and her head lulls on his tanned shoulder, eyes slip shut, chest levitating with shallow breaths.

She cups his cheeks wrapping her trembling legs around his waist and kisses his smile, it's sloppy and barely a kiss with their lazy effort to keep their mouths on each other to soak into intimacy.

Next they're a moaning and crying mess on the kitchen floor with her knee hooked around his hip to keep him close as he stretches her out leaving a pleasurable burn against her squishy inviting walls.

His cock sits warm inside her pussy and his balls snug against her bum. It's torturous waiting for her to give a signal that he might move because he couldn't resist but to be rock hard inside her and fuck her for hours but his knees are laughing at him for being unable to bear the sting of cold tiles.

"You can move, 'm okay." She whispers hugging him for dear life and he nods grinding his hips slowly, the bulbous head of his dick hitting all the right spots —- he's so good at fucking.

He takes her fleshy tits in his palms caressing them with each lewd stroke of his cock inside her and treats her glistening lips from his spit back to his mouth, pecking it generously.

"Pull me hair." He groans pushing hard and guides her hand into his swirl of sweaty curls — hips stuttering, eyes rolling back into his skull erotically when she does so peppering loving kisses under his earlobe, "You're g'na ruin me lovie … fuck me please." He whines grabbing her ass and lifts her pelvis to slide inside her dripping pussy with much more roughness.

She has never seen him like this. Shredded to seams for her, sweat beading down his gorgeous face like glimmer of pearls and eyes mossed with so much lust and desperation it knocks air out of her lungs.

He rolls them over gently and her squeal turns into a shameless yawp when he feels much more bigger than before inside her with her being on top of him —- he was right she could feel him in her tummy.

She's clueless what to do. Not that she's gonna show it –- she doesn't want to give him an impression that she knows barely anything about riding but the way she begins with zealous back and forth movement digging the heels of her palms against his pecks wrecks him havoc.

"You're doin' so good pet, yes, yes, yes. Use me baby. Use me like your little fuck toy 'm c'mon." He grabs the nape of her neck and brings her down to skim his tongue over her lips, manipulating the plushiness of them with his teeth. His balls slapping against her skin as she bounces on his cock diligently and he fists the soft flesh of her bum with both of his hands to help her ride him knows she's labouring herself out, "I'm all yours." He says caressing her sides to make sure she's okay and brushes the wisp of sticky hair behind her ear.

"You're looking so sexy sitting on my dick like that -- how about I don't allow you to cum so you could keep me warm with your pussy like that fo' hours?" His pants out gripping at her thighs as his prick spills with wetness inside her and she cries out shaking, "No!" He smirks crinkled forming by his eyes and takes this chance to drive hard up inside her making her flop onto his chest.

She gasps moistly, pulsating around him feeling every ridge and vein of his cock stroking against her walls creating obscene noises of skin meeting skin and their moistures mixing soapily like gooe.

"Cum fo' me baby -- squeezing me s' tight. I know you're there." His pants laboured and heavy as he sucks his own digits coating them with his spit nicely and glides them down pressing them to her weeping bud, then flickers it in prolong circles. Toes curling. His thrusts consistent and fast. She crooks her nose against his's murmuring to him with a wavering voice.

"I'm gonna cum, fuck."

"You're gonna make me come."

Her eyes widen in surprise but her body reacts otherwise albeit she has never experienced it —- but her moans were uncontrollable when he spanked her butt cheek and she crampied down at him jolting tremendously with the wave of insanity spreading to her bones.

"I'm a naughty boy, give it to me." He kisses his teeth together man spreading and throwing his knees up to ram up inside her perfectly.

His eyes shuts till he could see white spotting behind them -- he spills inside her in form of thick ribbons and milks her cunt with it riding her out of her high. She clings to his body and snuggles into him to tone down the shivers running down her spine with each tiny orgasm she feels rushing out with his lazy thrusts.

"I'm jello." She tells him and he looks down at her with a mishevious grin, "Does that give me a reason to eat you whole?" She rolls her eyes poking at his cheek with a grossed out expression.

"I'm still inside ye', remember?" He stirs his hips to make her realise and she yelps not know if it's making her feel hot or utterly sensitive, "You're insatiable." She mumbles pouting her lips to indicate him she's dying for his lips to smooch kisses to her.

"No kidding I love the noises you make when you come undone." She confesses timidly drawing stars at his chest and he giggles kissing her temple gently, "Stop before you wake me buddy up again –- he quite fond of you." He blushes hiding his face into the crook of her neck with tiny voice.

They're canoodling under the fluffy blanket on the sofa watching telly after they just took a bath together, shampooing eachother with peach scents and drying eachother off with warm towels. She's nuzzled into his side wearing one of his baby yellow robes, his arm stays around her shoulder thumb addicted to caressing her silky cheek, sometimes spreading his fingers down her throat to tip her chin up to smooch sweet kisses on her lips.

"You're cute when you're not a pest." She giggles and he frowns comically pretending to munch her alive, "That's very rude -- you should be thankful that I lov — " Her heart almost stops functioning.

They were sipping onto their green teas and nibbling onto the strawberry mochi they made and refrigerated before when the doorbell rang making them groan in laziness.

She stood up going to see what took Harry so long on the door and got revealed to him talking instinctively to whoever rang the bell.

"Hi, Y/N." Scottie smiles at him. Carrying her luggage and Y/N looks down at her attire for a second then forwards her hand shyly. She was so scared that day –- it's a blur to her but now she watches Scottie properly she realizes …. She's the same girl from all the paparazzi photos.

Something switches off inside her. The rainbows and confettis, the moonlight and stars and the nebula of the whole galaxy she had consumed in her little body from making love to Harry just shuts down into a white noise.

Her bottom lip plumps into a pout. Eyebrows trembling from this confused feeling of some invisible thing squeezing the life out of her.

She's jealous.

"I just came here to say bye." Scottie's voice makes her focus back into reality.

"Oh…" She just nods. She doesn't return the hug even though her brain guilt trips her for that and when Scottie leaves with the air thick and tense, Harry corners her in between a wall and piece of furniture cradling her grumpy face in his careful palms speaking gently to her.

"You don't 'ave to worry 'bout her, she's just a friend …. Infact you don't have to worry 'bout anyone because I love you so so much baby that I don't see myself spending me life with anyone else." She glances up at him twice, jaw falling slack from shock and he chuckles smothering her in kind-hearted kisses when she stares at him like a hawk.

"You what!?"

"I love you, Y/N." Her eyes closing like a moth flapping nearer to fire and finding peace in burning inside it.

"I love you too so much." She whispers and welcomes his lips melting against her ardently. With the passion only lovers hold. Amiability she couldn't find anyone else but in his embrace, in his kisses and his lovemaking.

"Can we go back to cuddlin'? Me feet gettin' cold baby." He whines treading fastly into the living room while carrying her like a kitten from behind and makes squeaky noises once snoozed under the warmth of the blanket.

He touches their foreheads. Kissing the tip of her nose adorably.

"I love you." Then burst into giggles. When she returns the passion coyly.

"I love you too."

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #Harry Styles fluffy duffy

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illuminatedquill · 3 years

Text

Extracurricular, An Analysis

Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri

“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won’t adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is sign on as it’s accomplice.” - Tom Robbins

You know the story. You’ve heard it before, right?

Boy meets girl.

Girl finds out that boy is running a side protection business for prostitutes.

Girl decides to blackmail boy into letting her join his business.

Classic high school criminal shenanigans ensue leading them into more dangerous situations where they are forced to make desperate decisions to stay alive.

Oh, and they fall in love along the way.

Oh? You haven’t heard this one before? Then let me introduce you to this delightful kdrama called Extracurricular.

I watched this one while waiting for the newest Hometown Cha Cha Cha episodes to drop and ended up binging the whole series in two days. There are many remarkable parts of this series: it’s a crime drama, first and foremost, that showcases high school teenagers caught in a cycle of violence and crime, abandoned by the society and adults that are supposed to be protecting them. There are no clear good guys and bad guys in this drama; everyone is cast in shades of grey. Our main leads, Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri, run the prostitution business, and are both from broken family backgrounds. Their actions are morally questionable at best, but the top tier performances from Kim Dong Hee (you might remember him from Itaewon Class) and Park Ju Hyun make you cheer for them anyway. You want them to have a happy ending, despite the horrible things they do. The audience is always reminded that despite how clever they are in staying ahead, their actions have consequences, and they’re just high school kids. The drama never pulls it punches.

But, weirdly enough, it’s also a love story. And that’s the part the really sticks with me until now. (The chemistry between the main leads is absolute dynamite and I could watch ten episodes of them just verbally sparring with each other. They don’t even kiss. They’re that fantastic when together on screen.)

I’m writing this because this is undoubtedly one of my all time favorite kdramas and I have a lot of feelings about our main pairing, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri. I can’t call them a couple (wait, didn’t I just say they fall in love) because their relationship can’t be labelled simply as that. Think of it as something similar to the main leads in My Ahjussi. Two people who should have become soulmates, yet met at the wrong time.

This kdrama is not particularly happy, and while I do encourage people to watch this, I am warning that the subject matter is extremely dark. If you’re sensitive to scenes depicting sexual assault, graphic violence, or anything in that zip code you’ll want to steer clear.

Also, I’ll be diving into spoiler territory in this analysis. So if you want to go in clean, then stop reading here.

Still here? Awesome. Let’s dive deep into the messy, amazing pairing that is Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri. First, let’s do a brief character background on our two main leads, starting with Ji-soo.

Oh Ji-soo is one half of our main pairing and this story starts with him. He lives by himself and has been essentially abandoned by his only parents; his father is a failed businessman who gambles whatever money he acquires on scams and his mother ran away. His apartment is small, sparse, but functional. He owns only a few outfits aside from his school uniform. The only unique item he owns is a pet hermit crab that he takes care of. His life outside of school is non-existent; he has no friends, no one to hang out with and do typical high school teenager activities with. He takes care of himself and lives only for himself and his “dream”: to graduate, attend college, get married, and have kids like a normal person.

But to do that, he needs a large amount of money. He has no other financial means to do so (his father is largely absent, as is his mother), so he decides, at some point, to start up this protection business for prostitutes. The drama doesn’t go into detail about the how and why he came to this conclusion that this was the best way to make a lot of money in a short amount of time, so you’ll have to suspend your disbelief from the get go. Considering the themes of the story (how youths abandoned by society tend to act out in extreme ways to make it in this world), it’s not hard to believe his desperation would drive him to make such a decision.

Ji-soo, despite his shady business, is actually a decent person. There’s a streak of humanity that exists inside him that refuses to go out, despite the increasingly dark and bleak events that start to overtake his life. He’s attached to his hermit crab, cares for his “employees” outside of them being tools to make him money, and doesn’t want to see anyone get hurt. He goes above and beyond what’s required to help out people at the risk of his own life (in particular, Gyu-ri, and we’ll get into that shortly).

What we learn from the first few episodes is that Oh Ji-soo is extremely smart and methodical in how he approaches his life. At school, he is known as a model student - quiet, top of the class in terms of grades, doesn’t draw any attention to himself, always follows along with what the teachers ask of him. Only his homeroom teacher, Mr. Cho, seems to consider his quiet style of existence to be concerning and tries to make him less socially awkward by pairing him up with another student in a new extracurricular club. This leads to the introduction of Bae Gyu-ri, Ji-soo’s longtime crush and future partner-in-crime.

Meet Bae Gyu-ri, the other half of our dynamic duo. Her introduction into the story kickstarts the entire plot, as one of her earliest actions leads to a domino effect that spells increasing doom and tragedy for our main leads. She messes with Ji-soo’s operation at a critical moment and she spends the rest of the drama doing her best to make up for the consequences that follow.

In my personal opinion, she is probably the best main female lead I’ve ever seen in a kdrama. Hands down, no other character exists (currently) that rivals her sheer cunning, wit, and badassery. Gyu-ri is Crazy, capital C, and is the chaos to Ji-soo’s control; the fire to his ice. Despite being the direct cause of half the events that happen to Ji-soo in the drama, he can’t help but need her because of what she offers. They make an incredible team. Her competitiveness, her need to win no matter the odds, helps them survive time and time again.

Gyu-ri is from the opposite end of the spectrum of Ji-soo; he’s dirt poor and she’s insanely rich (always nice to see a reversal of typical kdrama tropes). Her mother and father run a successful entertainment company. Gyu-ri is popular at school, friends with seemingly everybody, pretty, cheerful and gets along well with her teachers. Ji-soo, and the audience, believe from the beginning that she has the perfect life. It’s not hard to believe that she’s just involving herself in Ji-soo’s business because she’s bored and needs an outlet, at first.

We soon learn otherwise. Gyu-ri has more in common with Ji-soo than he initially realizes, in that they’re both trapped in circumstances beyond their control - it’s just that Gyu-ri’s cage is gilded, whereas his is not. Her parents are strict and have her life planned out for her, all without her consent or input, leaving her feeling frustrated and powerless despite her rich lifestyle. A suicide attempt hasn’t done much to change her parents attitude towards her, only serving to further their control over her life.

So, when she learns of Ji-soo’s operation she immediately seeks to angle her way into it. First, she tries to rip him off, believing that he’s an evil “pimp” and thus deserves it. But after spending some time with him, she changes her mind last second and decides to help him out instead.

And, now, let’s get into their relationship, which is one of the best (if not the best) aspect in the entire series.

I need to be upfront about something: the relationship between Ji-soo and Gyu-ri is not exactly healthy. I wouldn’t describe it as toxic - the circumstances surrounding them aren’t exactly the best environment to encourage open and honest communication - but it’s definitely not what should be considered ideal, especially for young adults, and especially for young adults who are dabbling in crime instead of studying.

So, why do I love them so much? If you’ve read some of my previous posts, you know that I loathe toxic relationships in kdramas, so I understand if you think I’m coming off as hypocritical here. Why do I like Oh Ji-soo and Bae Gyu-ri when I didn’t like, for example from recent history, (oh boy, here I go again on my Nevertheless BS) Park Jae-eon and Yu Na-bi?

First, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are way cooler than Jae-eon and Na-bi ever could be. They run a criminal enterprise that involves having a high amount of intelligence, cunning, and daring to do so. Do Jae-eon and Na-bi run a criminal enterprise as a side business? No, they don’t, because they’re boring art students.

Secondly, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri actually progress in their relationship and change their views as they learn from each other. Now, granted, that progress isn’t towards becoming better versions of each other - quite the opposite. But at least they have progress. Jae-eon and Na-bi stayed in the same stupid cycle for the whole series and then decided that it was better staying that way as opposed to trying for something else.

Last, but certainly not least, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are actually interesting to watch for me. The chemistry between Park Ju Hyun and Kim Dong Hee is explosive and they way they spar, exchange looks, and just generally exist around each other on screen is something I can watch forever. I’ve said this before but Han So Hee and Song Kang’s on screen chemistry, outside of their intimate scenes, really didn’t impress me.

Okay, back to Extracurricular. This relationship, man. It’s all I can think about (other than HomeCha’s Du-sik and Hye-jin, but that’s another post). Ji-soo and Gyu-ri are so good together.

I’ve noted before that Ji-soo is methodical in how he approaches his life; he plans out everything ahead, and rigs any situation as much as he can in his favor. It’s brilliant, but when a crisis happens, he doesn’t know how to deal with it effectively. He panics and flounders; becomes indecisive at a time when clear, decisive action is required.

Enter Gyu-ri. She quickly becomes the partner he never knew he needed. When there’s a situation, she becomes invaluable in her quick thinking and wit, coming up with solutions on the fly. It’s not perfect, but it keeps them just one small step ahead of whatever is coming their way.

The only thing preventing them from becoming unstoppable is the lack of communication and trust they have with each other. A lot of that has to do with how Gyu-ri entered Ji-soo’s business - she blackmailed him first, and, when that failed, she strong armed her way into getting him to accept her help. It’s implied in the drama that Ji-soo has had a crush on Gyu-ri for a while (since ninth grade, I believe) and in the first episode he actually gets the chance to spend time with her outside of school on a sort of quasi-date.

It goes sideways pretty quickly because of some shenanigans from his business, but not before she gets to know him and says some pretty touching words regarding his situation. Poor guy is head over heels - even after finding out that she’s the one blackmailing him, his feelings are only dampened, not extinguished. When he catches a glimpse of her family’s situation, he gains a deeper understanding of her and why she acts the way she does. Even more importantly, Ji-soo treats her the same after finding out this information which, to someone like Gyu-ri, means more than if he comforted her about it.

If you want to see a physical representation of how he feels, other than paying attention to his actions, you can see it in him keeping mementos from Gyu-ri. She has an interesting habit of folding bags into origami shapes and giving it to him. Even after the blackmail reveal, you can see that he continues to keep these in a container on his desk. It’s really cute that he keeps these, when it probably doesn’t even matter that much to Gyu-ri.

Towards the end of the drama, Ji-soo prepares to turn himself in to prevent Gyu-ri from being implicated in the crimes they committed. And it costs him almost everything to protect her. Ji-soo, the quiet, nerdy kid, puts himself on the line time and time again to protect Gyu-ri, knowing that it puts his life and his dream at risk to do so. And all for what? For some girl that he thinks doesn’t even like him in return?

Well, let’s talk about that. Because I’ve seen some comments that Gyu-ri was only using Ji-soo for her own selfish gain. And I can agree that was how it was at the beginning for her; she definitely was only interested in acquiring money, like Ji-soo was, in order to achieve her own goal of being free from her parents.

But, oh man, that is not what is motivating her at the end.

It’s actually pointed out relatively early by some of her friends that it’s obvious that she likes Ji-soo more than he likes her. Understandably Ji-soo is keeping her at arms length from him given the whole recent blackmailing, so it would make sense that it looks that way.

Further questioning reveals what she likes the most about him:

“It’s not like I’m crazy about him. He’s fun. And amusing. He’s smart. And there’s a certain charm he has. He also has a wolfish side to him. But he thinks he’s a puppy.”

- Bae Gyu-ri

But, as she gets to know Ji-soo better, you can certainly see that she starts to fall hard for him. As a cover story for why they hang out so much together during and after school, Gyu-ri states to everyone that they’re dating. The reactions across the school definitely imply that this is a shocking development, which means that Gyu-ri hasn’t dated anyone before. So why Ji-soo other than the reasons she herself states?

He challenges her, just as she challenges him. Gyu-ri may be the more dynamic, quick thinking of the pair but Ji-soo is every inch her intellectual equal - just in different ways. She doesn’t seem to be the type to be easily impressed, but you can tell that she’s definitely impressed by Ji-soo’s operation and how thoroughly set up it is. When Ji-soo is frustrated at the beginning by his setbacks, he blows up at another student (knocks him out in a crazy punch) and immediately walks over to Gyu-ri afterwards (who saw the whole thing) to inform her that she is now his partner in crime.

The look in her eyes, and the small smirk she has speaks volumes about her attraction to him in that scene. Smoldering.

And, oh yes, she’s prone to jealousy. Another classmate, Min-hee, gives Ji-soo a present out of the blue (it was supposed to be for her boyfriend, Ki-tae, but that’s another sub-plot) - all within view of Gyu-ri. It’s hilarious how she tries to brush it off. Later, for plot reasons, Ji-soo has to spend more time with Min-hee which only furthers Gyu-ri’s annoyance.

And her motivations stop being entirely about the money and more towards helping preserve the dream that she and Ji-soo share about being free. There’s a scene in episode 8 where it’s revealed that, due to a business partnership with a local gang (set up by none other than Gyu-ri herself in a desperate move), Ji-soo would have to drop out of school permanently to work on their behalf. Gyu-ri overhears this and, despite badly needing the gang’s help in sustaining their own business, immediately terminates the partnership.

All because it would interfere with Ji-soo’s dream.

Man, if that isn’t love.

In the following episode, Gyu-ri, and later on Ji-soo, is kidnapped by the same gang in retaliation for terminating their partnership. Ji-soo comes to her rescue but Gyu-ri is already almost free (again, she’s really, really badass) and is demanding that they bring Ji-soo to her instead of running for her life.

Surviving this latest attempt puts the two in a reflective, vulnerable mood and Gyu-ri asks Ji-soo why he keeps saving her. Ji-soo asks later on why she keeps risking her life to be with him. They don’t say the answer in words but in an almost kiss (yeah, you read that right - almost).

And then, if you aren’t already convinced, Ji-soo crosses his one last remaining line in an effort to keep Gyu-ri safe; he accidentally pushes a fellow classmate down some steps and, instead of helping her, leaves her to die after grabbing the evidence she has on him and Gyu-ri.

Extracurricular pulls off quite the magic trick here, hiding this well done love story in the middle of a serious crime drama.

The real tragedy is that Ji-soo thinks that Gyu-ri views this whole business, and by extension his life, as one big game. It’s something that she takes offense at, visibly becoming upset when he says that.

But even if that were true, he should be assured since Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose.

As they hurtle towards the end and face up to the consequences of their actions, Ji-soo and Gyu-ri undoubtedly lose sight of their original goals and dreams. They do some fairly horrible things to stay alive and ahead of the police who are close on their trail. You can’t really blame them for doing what they did; in the face of a society that has abandoned them, what they’re doing is a logical outcome to gain what they want so desperately and deserve so much: the chance to be free to live like normal, care-free people.

I can’t say for certain that they achieve that. The drama is serious in consequences and, at the end, the net around them is drawing tighter and tighter. I won’t spoil the ending scene for you, because I highly encourage you watch this drama yourself but I will say this: Ji-soo and Gyu-ri seem stuck in an impossible situation with nowhere to go, and no one to help them, with a clock ticking down towards either death or discovery by the police.

But, all the same, I’m always the optimist. They’ve gotten through situations like this before and they can certainly do so again. Maybe not as bad as this one, but not too far out of their league. And, like I mentioned before, Gyu-ri doesn’t like to lose. Especially when it comes to Ji-soo.

Their relationship is truly dangerous, as Ji-soo himself notes. Them being together is the source of their problems; they’re too much alike now, as opposed to the beginning of the drama where he stated that they’re too different. Their love is the kind of love where both of them are willing to burn the whole world down if it means keeping each other safe.

I’m a real sucker for those kind of love stories. No one’s a hero here. They’re just kids in high school, doing the best with what they know.

Who are we to judge what is right and wrong? Especially when the one committing the acts are high school kids who don’t know any better and just want to save each other?

Do we have that right?

Do they really deserve that punishment? Shouldn’t we be pointing fingers at the society that forced them to act this way?

Extracurricular really makes you think about that. Is it really so outlandish and terrible what Ji-soo and Gyu-ri do to survive when the adults who are supposed to be protecting them, teaching them better, have failed in their duty?

Maybe they really did win at the end. Not so much in succeeding in their goals but in gaining something that not even regular people are likely to find - a partner, a soulmate, someone who will stand by you no matter what.

If you do watch the ending, and are not an optimist like I am, then all I can say is this: whatever happened, they were together at the end.

They were together.

#extracurricular netflix #human class #netflix #kdrama #oh jisoo #bae gyuri #park joo hyun #park ju hyun #kim dong hee

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

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What if Bella had met the Volturi's as a child? What would it change and what ties do you think it would have?

It’d change a fair amount, as in, the entire plot of Twilight would have been derailed. Or, that is, it might change nothing at all.

So, we have three options here.

Nothing Changes

Bella is an extraordinarily delicious child visiting Italy and the small medieval town of Volterra.

If Bella doesn’t happen to be on the tour, probably whoever’s looking at her sighs, looks longingly at her delicious blood, and then walks away. The Volturi do not lose control in their own city.

Bella goes on her merry way and Twilight presumably happens. Except maybe Bella goes to Alice, “Oh yeah, Volterra, I went there once. Nifty place, nice buildings.” Alice stares.

Bella’s Eaten

Bella’s an extraordinarily delicious child whose mother thinks it’s a great idea to sign them up for the tour of Volterra castle. It’s a very exclusive tour you know! Bella’s eaten almost immediately, she’s probably fought over, Jane gets one limb and Alec gets another.

Years later, Edward arrives in Forks, his personal purgatory where he listens to the banal thoughts of teenagers. Bella Swan does not arrive. Edward continues to be miserable and depressed.

The Cullens have a game of baseball with James, Laurent, and Victoria. Unfortunately, James recognizes Alice, and is intrigued enough to come after her. Unfortunately, Alice is a vampire and not a human with human relatives to hold hostage. The Cullens murder him, Laurent flees to have sex with the sexy Denali ladies, and Victoria swears vengeance upon Jasper.

Unfortunately, her gift tells her that any attempt to murder Jasper will end up with her dead. Jasper doesn’t give her the time needed to plan. He hunts her down and murders her in cold blood.

Carlisle has the world’s worst weekend.

Edward is still depressed and concludes this is why vampires are abominations without souls. Irina gets to keep her boyfriend, he cheats on the diet and leaves within the year. Irina drowns herself in rebound sex with pretty mortals to try and feel better abou tbeing dumped. It doesn’t work.

Aro Discovers Bella

And this is probably the route you were thinking of.

Perhaps Aro’s taking a midnight stroll with Renata, perhaps he catches Bella on the tour, but somehow he manages to meet her and happens to brush her hand. Suddenly, eating Bella is off the table forever.

Bella’s gift isn’t game changing in the way Alec and Jane’s were, necessarily, but it is something Aro does not want falling into enemy hands and something he may one day need.

He’d probably do something similar to what he intended to do with Alec and Jane. He’d leave her to live her mortal life, keep close tabs on her, and turn her when she’s a young adult (probably around twenty).

Which means Bella returns to America, probably tailed by Demetri, and has no awareness that she is at some poing going to become an immortral blood drinking creature and move to Italy to become a member of an ancient vampire sect.

Bella moves to Forks, she has a run in with Edward Cullen who very nearly eats her, Demetri calls Aro to say “we have a problem”. At first, Aro isn’t too concerned, he’s delighted to hear that Carlisle’s alive and well and my god he has a coven now. Given Edward is Carlisle’s progeny, Aro is probably sure Edward will leave the city completely to avoid temptation and the others will quickly move on.

Edward’s back within the week. He attends school. He sits within a foot of Bella Swan in Biology class.

Demetri at this point probably summons Bella out of school in the middle of Biology with no warning, gets her the hell away from Edward, and has to come up with the world’s most ridiculous lie of why she should never enter within 20 feet of Edward Cullen ever again.

Demetri is a federal agent and Edward is under suspicion of being a sexual predator and serial murderer. Here are all the women who have disappeared in various towns the Cullen family have lived in.

Bella is of course horrified and shocked, but given Edward’s reaction in that first Biology class and his weirdness in the second one...

Aro calls Carlisle. It’s a very awkward talk. Carlisle apologizes for not writing in forever he got... distracted. Aro says it’s fine, no big, CARLISLE MISSED WATCHING THE MOON LANDING WITH HIM. But regardless, Aro is calling to ask him what the fuck.

Aro tells him about Bella, Carlisle is very uncomfortable with this girl having no choice but to become a vampire and no idea what’s going to happen to her, but there’s no talking Aro out of it. He’s even more uncomfortable that he has been begging Edward to skip town but, for some unknown reason that is perhaps pride, Edward is refusing.

“All these worlds are yours,” Aro undoubtedly says, “Except Europa, attempt no landing there.”

In other words, hands off Isabella Swan.

Carlisle tells Edward. Edward is appalled and conflicted. At this point, he’s unwillingly fascinated by Bella but has not yet decided he’s in love. He doesn’t quite have her Carlisle persona crafted yet and so she’s not the saintly figure deserving of worship. Right now she’s just this plain, boring, girl who dared to smell delicious.

So, a part of him thinks it serves her right. Now she will suffer for all eternity as he does. More, he can save face, the monster inside him can go back to sleep for her days are number and he can pretend he’s the wonderful person everyone thinks he is. Everything will remain as exactly as it is. EDWARD IS FINE, THIS IS FINE.

Another part of him panics. First, this girl is condemned to the worst future imaginable. Not only is she becoming a demon, but a blood drinking demon at Blood Drinking Demon HQ. More, if she becomes a vampire, no blood for Edward. And remember, this is a scent he would scour the world for. Edward salivates over the thought of her blood, obsesses over it constantly, and fantasizes over how he will devour her. Suddenly, Edward may not be able to eat her. In canon, the option of eating her is always on the table, and some part of Edward is always thinking about it, always leaving it open. Here, it’s soon to be gone.

Edward probably sneaks into her room at night to watch over her sleep. Telling himself he’s protecting her from meteors but also realizing that he’s there to test his own will power and ponder over the future in which he quietly eats her in the middle of the night.

Now, this can go two ways

Bella wakes up, and that guy Demetri said is a sexual predator targeting her is IN HER BEDROOM LOOKING SCARY AS FUCK. Bella undoubtedly screams bloody murder and tries to hit Edward with something.

Edward panics at the noise and eats her. Then when Charlie comes running he eats Charlie Swan too. The house is an utter blood bath, Edward stands there in a daze knowing the monster inside him has won. He no longer looks anything like Carlisle Cullen (this is a thing Edward does).

Probably though, Demetri is there. Which means Edward has heard his thoughts from the beginning. While Edward has the overconfidence of Gilderoy Lockhart, and tells Bella things like the laws of physics not applying to his driving or that he could beat Jasper in a fight with both hands tied behind his back, usually when push comes to shove he knows where he stands. (He tries to fight Jane in Volterra, it doesn’t go well, and he acts very meek at being confronted by Jane, Felix, etc. When he fights Victoria, he doesn’t fight at all, but just blathers nonsense and it somehow works out for him.)

So, while Edward will tell Jasper later that he totally could have taken Demetri, he’s not going to try.

So, instead, Demetri goes, “Hey buddy, looking for a midnight snack?” and Edward shuffles and petulantly asks, “Aren’t you looking for a midnight snack?!” Edward’s here to protect Bella, you see. Demetri just nods, of course, Edward’s here to protect Bella.

They stare at each other.

Neither leaves.

Eventually, Edward slinks away, feeling very disgusted with himself, angry and Demetri, and internally raging that he didn’t get to eat Bella.

Demetri calls Aro and notes that they’ve got to turn the girl. Demetri cannot watch her 24/7 and this boy is 100% going to eat her. Aro hops on a plane in record time, bringing Renata, and makes an awkward visit to both Carlisle and Bella.

Aro tells Bella the truth about Edward which is... a little different but also pretty scary, the truth about what’s going to happen to her and why it’s important, and anything else she wants to know.

I imagine Bella quietly and stoically accepts her fate.

Edward doesn’t get to eat Bella Swan. He feels very conflicted about it and is filled with self-loathing that he’s conflicted about it. I imagine the Madonna complex he holds for Bella blossoms at this point, and he later comes to Italy with the intent to free her from the Volturi clutches.

This doesn’t work out.

Knowing Edward, his attempts increase in desperation until, finally, he does something very illegal in an attempt to free her and make up for damning her to this life.

The Volturi are forced to execute Edward.

Carlisle gets yet another awkward, terrible, phone call from Aro.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #aro #the volturi #bella swan #demetri #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #anti edward/bella #meta #headcanon #opinion

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epona610 · 3 years

Text

A Comparison of OUAT Redemption Stories

So I was DMing with someone about a different show entirely, and I brought up OUAT because I loved/hated this show so much and it’s largely based on redemption stories. I was going to briefly explain why I find Hook’s arc so compelling (though not without its flaws, of course) and Regina’s so lacking, but it turns out that I still cannot write briefly about this subject. So I’m posting this here because this is what my blog was originally about, and I find I still feel very much the same way even after a few years have passed. I want to preface this by saying I haven’t rewatched the show since it went off the air, and I certainly could’ve forgotten some things. And I’m obviously biased in that I loathe the character of Regina so much, although here I’m trying to explain exactly why I can’t stand her.

Hook and Regina were both motivated by revenge for the deaths of their first loves. Rumple murdered his ex-wife and Hook’s current lover/partner/co-captain, Milah, so Hook set out to kill Rumple himself, the Dark One, who is one of (if not the) most powerful beings in their world. Hook caused a lot of harm to innocent people as collateral damage, but eventually he gave up on the idea of revenge and basically peacefully coexisted with the guy who had murdered his first love and chopped off his hand. Regina’s mother was the one to kill her first love, but did she go after her? No, she went after the ten-year-old child (Snow) whom her mother had manipulated into telling about her first love (by playing on Snow’s feelings for her dead mother, whom Regina’s mother had murdered). Regina was going after an innocent person from the beginning because she was afraid of her mother.

Then there’s the scale of the harm done. Regina: literally slaughtered at least two whole villages, sent countless children to be literally eaten by a cannibal, cursed an entire population by permanently altering their minds, has murdered so many people and taken so many hearts she lost track of whose was whose, illegally adopted a child whom she knowingly raised in a town where no one else grew or aged and then gaslit him when he caught on, murdered her father in order to cast the curse. Hook: was a pirate so he has killed people (we learn that his rings come from murder victims, whose names and circumstances he remembers) killed his own father (who had sold him into child slavery) thereby orphaning his little brother, killed David’s father, backhanded Belle across the face once, shot her so she’d cross the town line and lose her memories, sort of turned Baelfire over to Peter Pan (but only after Bae refused to let Hook hide him so I never got why he felt guilty over that honestly). No indiscriminate mass murder that we know of.

And of course there’s the remorse or utter lack thereof. Regina is constantly defending her actions. I’ll use her own words to illustrate. She at one point says to Snow: “To be fair, I was threatening you. Everyone else just became collateral damage.” And then later we get this infuriating exchange:

Regina: Need I remind you I dedicated years to knocking you down? But nothing could stop you.

Snow: You took my kingdom, cast your curse, I lost my daughter for 28 years.

Regina: And then you found her.

Clearly no remorse or recognition for the fact that she stole Emma’s entire childhood from her and her parents. And the classic, said as she was escaping a tree that attacks people’s regret: “I did cast a curse that devastated an entire population. I have tortured and murdered. I’ve done some terrible things. I should be overflowing with regret, but I’m not.”

I feel that I should add that she ends that last statement with “because it got me my son”. And that sounds lovely, but that means that she doesn’t regret the harm she’s done since getting him (continuing to enslave and sexually abuse her victims, murdering Graham, attempting to murder the entire town so Henry would have nobody else to love) or even more notably, the harm she’s done to Henry (raising him in a psychologically unhealthy environment, cursing him in an attempt to curse his mother, gaslighting him, attempting to murder his entire family, altering his memories, etc.) Regina says time and again that she “gave up on revenge” against Snow, but as far as I can tell, she only decided she was satisfied because she’d succeeded in irreparably harming Snow. She took away her chance to raise her daughter, who ended up being raised in an abusive foster system and felt obligated to give up her own child.

And then I compare that to Hook’s apologizing and making things right with people he’s hurt, like Ursula, his younger brother Liam, and David. And then he and Belle become close friends and eventually they have this conversation:

Belle: I’m sorry, I can’t stay here. If Rumple finds you harboring me...

Hook: His wrath will be an added bonus.

Belle: I don’t understand. Why would you risk your life for me?

Hook: Long ago, I... I tried to kill you in the queen’s castle once. I failed. But along the way, I did something I can live with no longer. I laid a hand on you. And there’s the matter of my shooting you at the town line.

Belle: Yeah, well. You’ve changed since all that.

Hook: Maybe. I have a long road to travel before I can be someone I can be proud of. Despite the forgiveness of others, I must forgive myself, and I’m not there yet.

So yeah, that’s a summary of why I find Hook’s redemption arc to be (somewhat) believable and satisfying and Regina’s to be... basically nonexistent. The show tells us she’s a hero and a good person now, but she never apologizes or shows remorse. She makes it abundantly clear that she’s doing good only in the hopes of getting happiness for herself, which she absolutely feels entitled to even though she’s taken it from so many others (the amount of times she complained about not getting what she wants despite occasionally doing the right thing is incredible). She still even has a bunch of hearts whose owners she apparently forgot! There’s no indication that guilt weighs on her at all, or that she even feels any guilt. I can’t buy a “redemption” from someone who never shows remorse or accepts responsibility.

Note: these quotations weren’t taken from memory, nor did I go back and watch the episodes. They came from the OUAT transcripts found here.

#anti regina #anti regina mills #captain hook #redemption narratives #not using the general ouat tag because I don't need a ton of attention on this right now #haha #but yeah if any Regina fan comes across this #and wants to debate in good faith #feel free to send me an ask

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

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Do you have any advice on how to write a noncon scene? I kind of want to try writing one as an experiment, but it’s not something I’m used to writing at all. I really don’t know where to start. I’m worried that it will just end up being cringy.

CW: Discussion of writing noncon under the cut, will not be graphic exactly but it will discuss emotions, resulting trauma, physical effects, etc

So, my first piece of advice is this: do not be afraid of the first go-round being cringy. Do not fear this. It will probably happen, because your first time writing out of your previous comfort zone will often end up feeling stilted or difficult! That is TOTALLY normal, don’t feel bad.

Secondly, let’s talk POV. Because a noncon scene from the whumper POV will be very different than from the whumpee POV. Your whumper can be intimate - they can be forcing some kind of affection into the moment, playacting at this being something other than what it is, etc. They may be sadistic and chasing their own pleasure without any regard for how it hurts the whumpee, or enjoying their pain.

The whumpee may be frightened. They may be angry. They may get sick, or feel sick. They may be defiant or freeze up (fight, flight, or freeze is a good place to start thinking this through - would my OC fight back? Would they try to get away? Would they just freeze up and go still?)

Some super quick pointers:

1. It is very possible or entirely inevitable that your whumpee WILL be injured unless the whumper takes specific care to take steps to keep them from being physically injured by the process. The process of preparing them is often good for building tension and dread into a scene, but it’s not necessary if it doesn’t fit your whumper.

2. If your whumper is an intimate or romantic whumper, they may spend time trying to make the whumpee ‘enjoy’ themself, or convincing them they want this, or they made it happen in some way, etc. If they are sadistic, they may instead delight in emphasizing how much the whumpee does NOT want it! An overlap may be discussing how beautiful their tears are, etc.

3. Your whumpee’s thoughts will likely fragment and become disjointed or panicked, but also they may begin to dissoci@te, feeling ‘separate’ from themself and what’s happeing to them.

4. You don’t need to use a lot of flowery terminology for the body parts involved. I’m a big fan of cutting to the chase. Call a cock a cock, if you will. Euphemisms can be incredibly distracting for the reader and take them out of the scene. But also, if your creepy whumper is like my Savvie Marcoset, maybe they use those euphemisms to build even further dread and disgust in the whumpee without even realizing it. The flowery language may be part of how the whumper hurts them.

5. Noncon is a traumatic event. Your whumpee may try to set it aside, to keep going. Some survivors can rationalize or talk themselves through it long enough to push through the immediate danger. Some can’t. Take some time to think through your OC and what their post-noncon response would be. Every single person who survives a traumatic event is an individual who may have a different response both in the moment and afterward.

Examples:

Kauri tends to turn it around, because of his own trauma and conditioning, and convince himself he wanted it. He pursues unhealthy physical connections with men for a long time as a way to more or less feel in control of a body he lost any agency over. With Owen, in the moment, he tries to please him and is frightened of not being able to do so well enough to keep Owen happy.

@whumpiary’s Cassius Bergen outright seeks out echoes of his own trauma to take control of it, and in the moment even when frightened forces himself to feign being into it, cracks jokes, etc.

@evermetnotforgotten’s Lev often dissoci@tes heavily and simply feels less present during his assaults.

Danny Michaelson slips into a headspace of eager-to-please to make his experience less horrifying in the moment only to let his emotions out when he’s alone.

Chris, you’ll notice, even in his memories primarily thinks of what happened to him with Oliver in metaphor and very vague allusions and doesn’t think about it with detail - until his breakdown, when finally you see him remember and acknowledge how absolutely horrifying his experience was, the terror and pain. In the moment, when he is facing it, he freezes up, goes still, and can’t fight back or even run.

@moose-teeth’s B is a fighter, who defies and fights until literally injured badly enough that he can’t anymore.

@whump-tr0pes’s Isaac names it what it is but also folds it into his existing struggles with self-loathing.

Antoni simply represses it entirely and refuses to acknowledge it ever happened. Even in the moment with Mr. Davies, he refused to name what was happening to him, because it would make it ‘real’.

6. For writing in the moment - if whumpee POV, keep in mind that as the scene unfolds, the whumpee’s thoughts will likely get shorter, interrupted, cut off. Show, don’t tell - the scratchy cheap sheets under their back, a cold chain around their ankles, the overheated warmth of the whumper, how sweat feels dripping onto skin. Disgust. Nausea. Their movements. Describe it all. Rather than saying, “Whumpee laid on the bed and thought they would throw up”, consider some details that feel more immediate:

Whumpee’s eyes locked on the ceiling fan, lazily circling, clicking softly with each full circle of the blades. The rhythmic click of the fan matched the way Whumper moved, his every rock forward briefly blotting out the sight of the fan, revealing it again.

His stomach twisted, lurched, and he felt bile rise up his throat. When he coughed, dry and sounding more like a sob, the Whumper clapped a hand over his mouth and whispered, “Don’t you dare ruin this moment.”

7. For writing the aftermath - does your whumper pretend to comfort them? Do they clean the Whumpee up, provide aftercare that is a mockery of affection? Do they simply leave them to clean themself up, or even leave them somewhere where that isn’t possible? Are they injured, requiring first aid?

8. Finally, I want to reiterate my first bit of advice: the first time you write noncon, it will probably be cringy. It’s your first draft! Oh man. The first noncon scene I ever wrote was the actual fucking worst. It was SO BAD. But I reused details from it later on in a much better-written scene!

Get the writing out, then reread and edit as you go, working through bits you’re not sure about. Consider how you can make the moments connect and flow together.

My biggest advice for a successful scene here is to remember that you are writing an act which will be traumatic to the Whumpee. Don’t throw that aside or ignore it, and to focus on sensory details of the experience to make it more immediate and grounded.

#noncon tw #writing noncon #writing #writing advice #whump writing

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arianajbb · 3 years

Text

FIC RECS - 1

💕 Clueless by @justsomebucky

Movie AU. Inspired by Clueless - A high society boy and a do-gooder-type girl find love.

💕 as you wish, ma’am by @aescapisms

SOCIAL MEDIA AU || Bucky Barnes fucks up and sends you the wrong presentation file.

💕 A Lesson In Love by @buckyywiththegoodhair

(College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

. 💕 The End Of The War by @redgillan

Everyone knows you and Steve can’t stand each other, but after he runs into you after one of his fights, he starts to see you in a different light.

💕 Babies! Assemble by @honeyloverogers

On a mission involving time travel, as if they haven’t learned at all that it’s dangerous, the Avengers get turned into babies. Including your boyfriend.

💕 Have You Any Wool by @threeminutesoflife

Dinner with Ransom doesn’t go as planned.

💕 Peaches and Plums by @cptnbvcks

After escaping hydra, Bucky finds a pretty peach vendor to work out his troubled mind with.

💕 Stitches by @revengingbarnes

You’re just a clueless new medical student. You’re not equipped to deal with charming, witty, handsome doctors. Especially not ones with pretty blue eyes that make you weak in the knees.

💕 Saturdays by @sunmoonandbucky

Bucky Barnes has a new routine.

💕 Love Made Me Crazy by @sinner-as-saint

It was all strategic; a plan meticulously constructed by you and your business partner; against James Buchanan Barnes. Not to take him down, no. But just to surpass him in the business world by uncovering his secrets; to learn his ways and hope to be better than him in every way possible. The façade you put up – of being close to him and earning his trust was supposed to be short-lived, most importantly; harmless. But then as always, things got a tad bit more complex when feelings intervened…

💕 To Be So Lonely by @wlntrsldler

When Bucky and Y/N signed up for this online pen pal system, they never expected to grow attached to the other person behind the screen. In the pen pal system, they can only unlock the other person’s messages on the 25th of each month. They can write and send off their response as soon as they want but the other person is not able to see it until the 25th.

💕 eye candy by @angelwidow

Being Tony Stark’s receptionist was hard. Working alongside the most gorgeous salesman you’d ever seen was even harder. Actually talking to said salesman? Well, that was just insane.

💕 Strange Times by @beccaanne814

You have a certain type - smart, charming, and handsome as sin. For years you’ve been in love with the only man you thought possessed all of those traits, but a chance encounter with a Strange individual sends you and a certain ex-assassin on a journey of self-discovery. As you try to find a way back home, will you also be able to uncover the perfect man hidden beneath layers of guilt and self-loathing.

💕 Stuck Wit U by @slyyywriting

You and Bucky don’t get along. Your fights have become too destructive so Tony and Steve decide that enough is enough.

💕 Take Me Higher by @buckychrist

Who knew that the way into the big broody super soldier’s heart was through his unmet need for a good cuddle?

💕 x by @mcfreakin-bitch

💕 x by @thejamesoldier

💕 Betrayal by @midnightsunfae

Bucky catches you flirting with someone at a party and he doesn’t take to it very well.

💕 two paper airplanes flying by @feliciahardyn

ransom drysdale will always find you, no matter where you are. always.

💕 Dear Lover by @feliciahardyn

you dance with bucky barnes in the obscurity of your room as you recalled the first time you met and how three years later you ended up tangled in each other’s arms. (based on the song “lover” by taylor swift)

💕 Make You Love Me by @slyyywriting

You flirt with Bucky every single chance you get.

💕 The unseen one by @extremelyblackandwhite

The God of the Underworld falls in love with a mortal.

💕 Hellfire by @chamomilebottom

💕 Promised by @cherienymphe

when you start waking up with bruises you can’t explain, your nightmares turn into a reality.

💕 Everything by @trillian-anders

💕 tell me you own me by @darthstyles

mean daddy harry comes out to play

💕 The Chef’s Strike by @bucky-smiles

A contract went unfulfilled…

💕 Bittersweet Temptations by @revengingbarnes

Y/N Y/L/N loves coffee, always has, which is why she spent all her adult years creating the perfect coffee shop. Cutesy, homey and cozy, it’s the job of her dreams. So what if business has been a little slow lately? It’s her happy place, it would always be. But that was all until the flirty, witty and obnoxious Bucky Barnes opened up a rival coffee shop two blocks down the street. Business and profit are all Bucky cares about. He’s the exact opposite of everything Y/N stands for, and naturally, she can’t stand him. But what happens when Y/N is running the risk of losing her beloved shop and Bucky’s the only one lending her a helping hand?

💕 The Neighbor by @staymay5

💕 came in close by @buckyskorpion

what could possibly go wrong with a couple of good-natured pranks between sworn enemies?

💕 (1) New Message by @yikeswtfmate

One night Wanda and Nat dare Y/N to text her hottest ex. She complies, only to realise it’s not her ex she’s texting and this might be the most attractive man she’s actually laid eyes on.

💕 Eye For An Eye by @sinner-as-saint

Battered and bruising, Y/N is out to seek sweet revenge from a man, James Buchanan Barnes, who tore her family apart 10 years ago. Y/N’s plan was simple; infiltrate his life, mess with his head, toy with his heart and leave him broken. Headstrong, she will stop at nothing, not even when it comes down to her being the villain in her own story…

💕 Under Oath by @ugh-supersoldiers

The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.

. 💕 Hate To Love You by @revengingbarnes

While on her death bed, Y/N’s mother has just one wish; her daughter to be married and settled in her life. It’s something her mother has never stopped pestering her about. But up until now, Y/N had managed to not give into her family’s traditions of arranged marriage. And she might have continued to do so if weren’t her mother’s last desire. Unable to refuse her mother’s desperate plea, Y/N agrees to meet the man her parents have chosen for her. There’s just one tiny problem. Her soon-to-be husband is her ex. More tragically, he’s the one ex she never managed to get over.

💕 Everything by @hootyhoobuckaroo

. 💕 late night devils by @whistlingwillows

Bucky gets revenge on his ex with you, the girl he never got over no matter how much he thought he did.

💕 Safe with Me by @bitsandbobsandstuff

When an unknown threat enters your life, protection is offered at the highest level. As Bucky Barnes comes into your life, the game changes, and you realise falling for the man tasked with keeping you safe is the last thing you expected.

💕 Wildest Dreams by @hopesbarnes

Everyone said he was a bad guy, that he broke hearts. But maybe they were wrong about him.

💕 Things Bucky says during sex. by @steveodinsonbarnes

💕 charming by @venusbarnes

in which you’re a girl in need of protection, and Bucky’s the perfect man for the job.

💕 one stroke and you’ve consumed my waking days by @buckthegrump

Bucky has a pen pal.

💕 Just One Kiss by @sarahwroteathing

Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss? (40′s happy ending AU)

💕 Come Over by @moonstruckbucky

You’re new to New York City. Fresh out of post-grad and wanting a change of pace, and this change comes in more ways than one.

💕 Even In The Darkest Times by @justauthoring

Bucky x reader where they were together in the forties and when Steve goes back, he sends her into the future so she can be with Bucky while he stays in the past with Peggy.

💕 Hearts Don’t Lie by @daenyara

when y/n and her family have to leave Europe to escape the war, finding love in New York is the last thing she expects (and the last thing that interests her). Much to her annoyance, her parents set her up with the one person in all Brooklyn she cannot stand: the charming James Barnes, who’s decided to show her he’s not as bad as she thinks.

💕 A Bid on Bucky by @samingtonwilson

You spend thousands of dollars at a bachelor auction for Bucky when you could’ve had him for free this entire time.

💕 Helpless For You by @sgtjbuccky

A blind date has lead you and Bucky to the fourth date. Each one proving that you’ve got it bad more than prior and it doesn’t quite matter what will happen - you will keep on falling for that handsome devil and you don’t even mind.

💕 Lavender by @wkemeup

Not every nightmare is the same and Bucky doesn’t always wake up as the man you know.

💕 Fixed by @drawlfoy

draco has a teasing relationship with the reader–they playfully argue and go back and forth but never acknowledge the fact that there may be something more. draco notices her pulling back and becoming more reserved. he follows her out of the dining hall one day to find her having a breakdown over a dark secret.

💕 Anytime by @notimetoblog

Bucky is still cautious when it comes to touching people & vice versa. one day after a mission, the avengers are in the quinjet on their way home, Bucky sat down beside the reader & accidentally falling asleep on her & snuggling her. she doesn’t make it a big deal but all the other members are surprised. just fluff involving soft Bucky.

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yunsoh · 3 years

Text

alrighty season 3 ep 2 thoughts. this post got ridiculously long so the rest is under a read more:

- literally i love every single time we see akito sleeping in this long and empty room. there’s something very encompassing about how empty it is + how the angle emphasizes it, especially when we can clearly see she’s sharing her bed

- shigure and tohru’s moments alone are always soo so sweet. their relationship so far is very much one where there’s a lot of affection between them (which ofc makes one of their biggest scenes together during the final act feel especially hurtful even though it’s a side of shigure we’re well aware of by that point -- it’s just something that tohru up until that point hadn’t witnessed, much less been directly confronted with. but i’m getting ahead of myself lmfao moving on)

- actually related to the above love tohru asking “wouldn’t i just be interrogating him?” and “the things kureno told me make me feel like i’m looking into a deep, dark well” just ahh i do love this background progression of shigure and tohru’s relationship and how it reaches a head when they have their talk about kyo later.

- this is perhaps unintentional but: having this shot of machi noticing yuki + clearly having some new feelings about him overlaid with/directly followed by momiji and tohru, where we still know momiji has an unrequited crush on her. yes it makes me laugh a little but it’s also fitting because at this moment in time yuki does not have a crush on machi in return + sees her only as a friend.

- it’s been mentioned but it bears repeating. why are they not progressing momiji’s height whatsoever lmaooo. funny because yuki and kyo have had gradual changes but they’re really just trying to make this growth spurt reveal super jarring huh. also holy shit he looks TINY next to haru in this shot. next

- the one kid in class asking hana to fuck the priyuki girls up but she’s like “actually i really don’t care” LMAO........ love her

- ugh i really love this moment with yuki.......... i think it’s been a while since we’ve seen the general student population (not just the prince yuki girls) still treat him in a revering way, now also in part because he’s the student council president but definitely still because of his reputation as the prince. this was something that was so deeply ostracizing to him early on in the series, and does still remind him of his loneliness -- but that loneliness isn’t crippling to him anymore, because now he does have friends who like him and who he can have fun with.

i’m going to write a bigger post on this later probably because this is a really important progression point in how yuki understands himself to exist in his school’s ecosystem + how his self-esteem is still developing.

- additionally i just want to say that this scene isn’t yuki suddenly falling for machi, or really something to be read as mutually romantic between them -- machi i think absolutely has a crush on him at this point (because he is. the only person who is actually nice to her and considers her existence aside from kakeru but moving on) but yuki’s perception of her at this moment is heavily tied to how he thinks of himself as a friend + whether he’s a worthy enough person to befriend. the fact that machi shatters those doubts for him in such an overt way is important.

- anyways machi is rly cute here i loooove that she’s comfortable being more expressive around him even though it’s mostly out of embarrassment LMAO...... she’s learning how to display her feelings and trusts him with that..... cute.

- also of note yuki putting his hand on the top of her head which is like... he’s trying to convey that he feels they have (or are starting to have) a trusting friendship with each other but it’s like. a bit too much for machi to handle omfg. honestly this goes in hand with way back when ayame patted yuki’s head in praise which was clearly something yuki didn’t receive much of as a kid, and i’m assuming machi also rarely if ever received that same sort of praise. what i’m saying is they’re both trying lmaoo

- also as usual shimazaki’s deliveries are spot on yuki is soooo fucking cute in this scene. “what? seriously? they’re even worse than the ones i made” he’s so casual and funny with her it’s so good

- okay the timeskip to sunset makes me laugh it makes it seem like tohru and kyo have just been waiting in that room alone for hourssss

- ugh how sexy would it have been if the brief flashback to kureno + the music overlay had been cut out here. like tohru seeing the birds and then turning to ask kyo what he would think if someone’s curse had been broken would have gotten the message across just as well + i think would have been more emotionally impactful.

- tohru’s expression here though is so good just. ugh. will say this point in hers and kyo’s relationship is just so tasty because he really is her most trusted confidant but she’s also so aware of anything that could be construed as him rejecting her or pushing her away, which now that she’s getting especially wrapped up in the family’s secrets...... it’s a thin line she’s walking w wanting to protect him but not wanting to push him away bc he’s resigned to what will happen

- this visual is so weeeeeird aoghjksd the screen being framed by her bangs. what. why

- hmmmm in general idk if the flower scene hit very well. it felt kind of awkward? kyo and tohru both seemed really stiff which is weird because literally just a minute ago they were animated pretty well tbh

- this post is already so long and i only JUST started the akigure part of the ep....... i’m so sorry

- machi and kyo both handing off white flowers to yuki and tohru respectively and then we’re hit with shigure giving akito a red flower instead. obviously because akito is symbolized by red camellias + to refer back to her memory of shigure giving one to her, but also just basic color symbolism -- white being more indicative of purity and new beginnings, red being something both passionate, evocative, dangerous.

- oh we’re back to the kids. it is not in fact akigure time yet.

- i loooove this tohru outfit so much she’s so cute in it. also ig it bears mentioning because i didn’t say anything about it last time, but the reboot hinting more directly to the audience that something bad happened to rin, rather than just her disappearing entirely, is def more overt than in the manga. that short scene of ren intercepting rin in the last ep was chronological yes, but in the manga we don’t see that happen until after we know that akito��s been keeping her in the cat’s room. so just by tohru mentioning that she hasn’t seen or heard from rin in a while, we’re clued in that something bad to her must have happened because of ren. which i don’t think is a bad decision honestly -- since ren is set up as the antagonist for this season, it might make viewers assume that ren did something bad to her, only for it to be revealed that it was akito and that akito is still becoming more and more unhinged. but that also ren is unhinged. disasters.

- “i’m sorry, i’m afraid i do have parents” this rly is just the mid-20s mood isn’t it

- mitsuru fucking hissing at shigure i cannot

- nakamura’s acting during this phone scene is so goooood oh my god. the LOATHING. honestly this alone just makes me crazy abt the insanity that is akito + kureno + shigure like jesus christ.

- kureno’s pitiful little “nii-san” after shigure obliterates his entire life. there we go

- honestly it’s funny how shigure’s expression looks when akito yells at him for sleeping with ren because for a moment it looks like he has NO idea what she’s talking about but then. nope. he fucked her mom.

- do like the little detail of akito pointing as she tells shigure to get out, but when he leaves he just turns in the opposite direction. like truly he has never followed orders to the t once in his life.

- this shot of ren is so fucking absurd oh my god. pls get ur male gaze directing out of here.

- “i... thought you forgot” man the way this is delivered feels really striking. i think because akito is never caught off guard in a way that surprises her in such a quiet way, or in a way that leaves her plainly vulnerable. like her vitriol towards him has to do with the fact that she feels he’s abandoning the bond they used to have (and ofc they bond they have through the curse), and that memory of him does act as a linchpin.

- it’s primo bitchy shigure hours. primo akito meltdown hours.

- this shot is soooo foreboding wow. straight up darkness. tho i kind of wish this shot was used instead for the “i want to crush her to a pulp” line, or at the very least that the shot for that line was just framed differently

- god they’re so fucking awful for each other. purely just a disaster duo. shigure taking control of the conversation + dismissing akito’s meltdown and emotional manipulation leaves akito feeling the only way she can have control over him is through seducing him since no other method works. the convo that has with her accusing him of sleeping with a lot of other women + her not knowing how to handle the fact that he slept with ren, and ofc the convo it has with her misogyny and how she views herself. they have this really vitriolic push and pull for control because akito doesn’t know what to do when she loses any control at all, and shigure’s grasping at what little control he can have considering how their power dynamics work with the bond -- walking away when she’s being manipulative, refusing to coddle her. like shigure’s wish for them to be on an equal playing field without the curse is a pipe dream because their relationship is just so, so damaged as is and is so heavily informed by what has already happened between them. takaya why did you have them end up together for realsies why did you--

- what is with the reboot team making akito break down the walls and doors all the time lmfao. bro the structural damage caused by this little 90lb disaster.

- i think i understand why they took it out (like maybe it would have been too overt with how they’ve set up the audience to expect something bad happened to rin after running into ren) but man they really just didn’t adapt one of the most haunting parts of the series huh. like this shot of rin being trapped inside the cat’s room right beside shigure thinking “i’ll be waiting for you” maaaan man!!

- okay addendum: apparently she is in the room. in hindsight i did notice this but it did not register as a person because i thought it was just a glare on the window 😭

#fruits basket #fruits basket spoilers #holy shit this post is long i'm so sorry LMAO..... i had so much to say

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yandere-southpark · 4 years

Note

Gosh that was so good I’m literally loved it thank you can I request what type of yandere is everybody or just some random ones if this makes sense ❤️

HCs for Platonic and Romantic Yandere Christophe, Gregory & Damien

A.N. - Glad to hear I did my favourite character justice! So I just used this as an excuse to write for a few of the characters that I figure won't get requested much but still wanted to do something for. Fair warning that all three of these boys are quite high on the yandere scale, so the danger is afoot.

Christophe (aka "The Mole")

Platonic:

The ultimate soldier of fortune and guard dog rolled into one. No task is off-limits, out of the question, or too daunting for Christophe. If his friend wants it done, he will make it his mission in life to see it come to fruition no matter how many lives get thrown under the bus or ended prematurely in the process.

He devotes himself to serving them and eliminating all obstacles and irritants from their life, as it is the only way he knows how to express any sort of positive sentiment for another person. Christophe is woefully inexperienced with the concept of friendship, and it shows.

It's something he never believed to be genuine nor allowed himself to indulge in due to deep-rooted trust issues largely stemming from his mother's poor treatment of him, so this sudden and overwhelming preoccupation with defending his friend from the world is entirely foreign to him.

Christophe is all too familiar with how unfriendly and predatory people can be, so he takes it upon himself to become his friend's self-proclaimed bodyguard. A target now lies on the backs of anyone they interact with.

Their friends are manipulative moochers who will turn on them the moment times get tough, and their family is waiting for the perfect excuse to disown them and finally be rid of them.

Strangers and acquaintances are dealt the worst hand of all. Christophe has no time for tomfoolery, and if someone rubs him or his friend the wrong way for even a second, he will not hesitate to crack them over the head with his shovel and spit on their corpse.

His friend will likely be subjected to various long-winded rants about the futility of relationships and how the world has gone to hell in a handbasket, but there is always a recurring theme. No one is worthy of their trust except him.

Romantic:

Christophe is already fiercely paranoid and unstable. Throw obsession into the mix, and it’s a one-way ticket to hell on earth. At first, he loathes these feelings and his partner for causing them. In his eyes, love is nothing more than a sham revolving around leeching on to one another only to get stabbed in the back.

He tries desperately to bury his raging emotions and ignore his partner’s existence, but they invade his thoughts every second of every day without fail, never allowing him a single moment of reprieve. It chips away at his remaining sanity, keeps him up at night, and leads to many instances of him absentmindedly following them for a while only to come to his senses and be enraged by his own behaviour.

Just because Christophe is obsessed with his partner does not mean he is nice to them. If anything, he is actually ruder to them than he is to most. For the longest time, he refuses to accept the fact that these feelings are not going away and blames his partner for his inner turmoil, expressing his denial and frustration by acting belligerent towards them and making them think he detests them.

In a way, he does, but his true feelings become all too apparent whenever someone flirts with them or when they avoid him. Christophe will eventually crack during one of these two scenarios. What follows is a tumultuous rage in which the mercenary screams his head off, assaults anyone who attempts to impede him, and unloads on his partner.

They have every facet of his real opinion on them shouted in their face before he takes his shovel to whoever may be with them, not relenting until the other person is unidentifiable. Every perceived culprit and contributor is absolutely brutalized.

When the smoke clears, his partner is left with no friends and a dwindling number of living relatives.

Gregory of Yardale

Platonic:

The one who seems to know everything about anyone his friend ever comes into contact with while simultaneously being everywhere they are yet never where they need him to be when they actually need him.

When his friend wants his help with something, Gregory suddenly vanishes off the face of the earth or conveniently has a prior commitment that takes priority even if he told them he was free a mere moment earlier. He thinks asking him for help is the only sensible choice because no one else could ever hope to match his intellect and prowess, but just because his friend’s life is the only one he values other than his own does not get them a free ride.

If they truly desire his assistance, they can earn it by either waiting for him to become available or begging him to make an exception because there are few things Gregory delights in more than some good old-fashioned ego-stroking. At least, that’s his thought process. In reality, it does not play out that way most of the time.

His friend usually turns to someone else for help at this point, which insults Gregory to the core and makes him insanely jealous. It is a slap in the face reminding him that they do not hold him in as high of a regard as he holds himself.

Infuriating but manageable, he decides. All he needs to do is exterminate the peasant they dare to believe can compare to him and announce that his so-called busy schedule has miraculously opened. A deal fell through or a client cancelled a meeting and now he has all the time in the world to assist them.

If the deed is already finished, it is a disgrace to everything Gregory stands for, and whoever replaced him is dying if it is his final act on this earth. If the task is only partially completed, it spells a marginally better fate for the other person, as he will focus more on debasing and criticizing their undeveloped work rather than on hunting them down.

If they fail or ditch his friend, he interprets it as proof of his superiority, and his friend will never hear the end of his monologues about how he is the only one they should rely on and who will always be there for them.

No matter what the case is, their helper would be wise to sleep with one eye open for the foreseeable future.

Romantic:

Gregory loves what he does. Every untimely death brings a smile to his face. Plotting the murder of his rivals and any pests who cannot refrain from sticking their noses in his private affairs is an art form to him. Watching the authorities scramble for the slightest shred of evidence while the helpless denizens of South Park grow evermore desperate and paranoid with each disappearance instills in him a profound sense of pride.

If he feels generous, they find the body. If not, it will be as if the victim never existed outside of a few stray memories that will fade once the case inevitably goes cold.

Gregory is far from an overenthusiastic amateur when it comes to under-the-table deeds. Every death is manipulated to support his alibi and outfitted with a backstory dissuading any notion of his culpability.

When his partner is left lonely and disheartened by their friends' passing or vanishing, he offers them his shoulder to cry on and feeds them lies. One friend up and left due to a family emergency, another missed weeks of school only to return a shadow of their former self unable to look them in the eye because of a deteriorating home environment, and their best friend was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time when that car rounded the corner.

Has a dangerous taste for the dramatic. Gregory prefers to steer clear of harming family members, but that will not prevent him from endeavouring to convince his partner that they are holding them back and killing their true potential.

He drips with charm and charisma at all the right moments and leaves little to no trace of his nefarious pastimes in his dialogues, but the ever-intensifying urge to spill his guts about everything he has done in their honour and revel in obtaining their undivided attention for once is more than a little maddening.

In a perfect world, every murder would be a work of art and a testament to his undying adoration of them. They would gaze upon each masterpiece with awe and realize that the only person in the world who deserved them was him. Alas, Gregory finds himself disappointed with reality once again, but it is nothing a little perseverance cannot remedy.

Damien Thorn

Platonic:

Treats his friend more like a pet. Damien regards them as the one being he will order the legions of Hell to spare following the birth of the apocalypse, but their friends and family's fates are not so promising.

In the meantime, he spends nearly every waking moment of his vacation in South Park accompanying them in their daily life. He has no concept of personal space or privacy when it comes to them and will be baffled if they tell him to leave. Not that it matters if they do, for Damien never sheds his sense of supremacy and views their objections as trivial balderdash.

Their independence is all but stripped from them, and he expects unconditional submission else a few poor bystanders erupt in flames. While his fury is rarely unleashed directly upon his friend, he will target anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby and hunt down the people closest to them if he feels especially slighted.

Every living thing that communicates with his friend is a threat requiring barbarous extermination. Damien is more than willing to crack open the earth like an egg and watch with fiendish delight as the victim is dragged into Hell by demonic spirits and consumed by the fires of the underworld. His friend is welcome to watch it with him, and he insists that they take him up on the offer because they are going to see much more of it soon.

Their future was set in stone the moment they met him. Damien is a stranger to connections of any kind, and, while he does not fully understand what he is experiencing, he knows that he wants his friend to remain by his side for all eternity.

Unfortunately, he cares neither for how this goal is achieved nor whether they consent to his plan or not. Satan eventually catches wind of his scheme when his son rejects the opportunity to return to Hell unless his friend accompanies him.

The devil explains why that is impossible, claiming that they must be dead before their soul may safely traipse through the underworld. Damien takes this at face value and announces to his friend that he wants them to join him in the afterlife. He promises their fate will be a prosperous one, as a majority of demons are bound by his father to obey him.

Trying to escape now would spell the demise of hundreds, if not more. The possibility of sparking a premature Armageddon by refusing looms over his friend's head. Regardless of their response, the decision is not theirs to make. It never was. Endowed with the legacy of Satan, the throne of Pandemonium is his birthright, and Damien was never taught to take no for an answer.

Romantic:

Everyone in his partner's life has been marked for death and can expect the forces of Hell to come knocking on their door shortly. Damien houses no regard for any living thing except himself and whomsoever fate curses to catch his eye. He will pursue them with all the diligence of a merciless demon, never sparing a second thought about the many casualties.

There is a complete and utter lack of prudence and tact in his actions, as he is violently impatient and fails to see the purpose of hunkering down for the long haul when he can trigger Armageddon with a snap of his fingers. Playing the waiting game is such a colossal waste of time for him that he will not hesitate to appear before his partner one day and inform them that they are now a resident of Hell.

Damien does not understand the ways of mortals yet and will likely attempt to bring them to his home with cataclysmic effects, unaware that the souls of the living are not designed to be tethered to the underworld. Being scolded by his father will not be the worst part of that day for either of them.

The unwanted journey may leave his partner traumatized or with a fractured psyche, as they had numerous images of countless people being tortured by methods they thought too barbaric to conceive unrepentantly thrust upon them. If that does not make them crack, the piece of their soul now trapped in Hell begins to tear their mind apart at the seams.

No one will ever have any doubts about Damien's stance on his partner's social life. People are incinerated daily for the slightest transgressions, and there is not much anyone can do about it other than to avoid his partner like the plague.

Born in the seventh circle of Hell, the Antichrist possesses no capacity for morality or compassion. Humans are naught but dirt under his boots. He refuses to allow his partner to leave his sight for any reason, and no one who dares to interfere is graced with so much as a shred of mercy.

Their family inspires a special type of hatred within Damien, for they were around when he was not and share an inherent bond he cannot replicate or replace.

His partner may get the sense that he is merely biding his time until they die so he can claim their soul. It certainly is not the worst path to take, but he is prone to altering his methods on a dime.

He may start to influence aspects of their life to be more hazardous and continually place them in life-threatening situations. Anything to speed up the process.

244 notes · View notes

moonknightly · 4 years

Text

Mistakes and Sour Grapes : Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader (five)

Word Count: 3.8k+

Excerpt: “You remembered what he had told you, about being in the military years ago. You remembered how he’d scanned the crowded bar with something close to distrust on the night he’d helped you tend to it, how he’d seemed nervous to be in such a large, hectic group of people. You remembered touching the scar on the back of his neck, and how he had flinched and guided your hands elsewhere.”

Warnings: Panic attacks, anxiety, swearing, poor writing.

[SERIES MASTERLIST]

You hated making decisions. Even the simple ones, like what to wear or what to make for dinner. Deciding whether or not to wash your hair in the shower was even difficult at times. It was so much easier when someone offered a little bit of guidance, told you what to do instead of asking you what you wanted, or making you do it by yourself. You felt like you needed that guidance now more than ever.

Quitting your job was by no means a simple decision, or one that should be taken lightly and made on a whim, and this was one of those instances that you really wished someone would just smack you across the face and make the decision for you.

Asking Finn would be useless — he’d tell you to stay, and on top of that he’d find out that you slept with Dameron, which was honestly the last thing you wanted right then. You knew he wouldn’t care, not really, but you also didn’t want to chance having to sit through a lecture, and you definitely wanted to avoid his relentless teasing.

You didn’t want to ask your parents, refused to ask one of them, and you didn’t want to ask your other friends. The squirrel that lived in the trees outside of your apartment didn’t exactly offer any sound advice. You didn’t have anyone else to talk to, no where else to turn.

It was a decision you were gonna have to make entirely on your own, and you fucking hated it. You hated it so much.

But you still hated the fact that you were even contemplating quitting even more. You hated that just the mere sight of Poe brought a bad taste to your mouth, and instead of looking forward to your shifts you were now dreading them more and more each day.

Finn had been able to tell a change in your mood, of course he had. He’d asked you about it over and over again in the week since you and Poe had partaken in your little basement escapade, and each time you only gave him the same answer.

You were just tired.

It wasn’t a lie, not really. You were exhausted, hadn’t been sleeping right as you’d stay up most of the night contemplating your next move, trying to map out a plan and figure out if quitting was really an option. You had bills to pay, things that needed to be taken care of and sure, you had enough put away to get you by for a few months without a source of income, though you sincerely hoped it wouldn’t take that long to find another job.

But there was always that chance. What if you didn’t find a job? What if it did take months instead of weeks?

You were almost positive Poe would hire you back on if that were the case, but that wasn’t something you wanted to do either. You didn’t want to go crawling back to him when the whole point of quitting would be to get away from him, put some much needed distance between you both.

The constant back and forth was killing you. You knew you needed to make a decision sooner rather than later, before your anxiety over it grew into something unmanageable.

You wished you could just handle it without any sort of complication, get a grip on it without feeling like every possible outcome would be the worst one. You wished you could act like enough of an adult and separate your feelings from your professional life but it was so hard. Every time you saw him or heard his name your stomach erupted into a crazy frenzy of butterflies and honestly, you couldn’t tell if they were good or bad anymore.

That was another thing you couldn’t make your mind up on — whether or not you loathed Poe Dameron entirely or if you were still harboring a crush on the insanely infuriating man.

When did everything get so damn complicated? Why did it have to be so damn complicated?

Quitting would solve it, would make all of the uncertainty go away. You’d be able to finally think about something other than Poe’s infectious smile and those stupid brown eyes and those rough hands and fuck, that was something you didn’t need to be thinking about at all.

But he’d taken over your mind completely, worked his way between your ribs and mended himself into some piece of your soul buried deep within your chest, and you didn’t understand how. Didn’t understand how you could let yourself become that infatuated with another person given your limited history, and how that history was tainted red with anger and resentment and so many other negative emotions you doubted you would be able to name them all.

But the heat that coursed through your veins when he touched your hand, the burning. How each brush of his fingers along your skin felt electric, and that spark in his eyes that only turned you into flames. That was also red, and something that you were still craving. You still wanted him.

You needed to quit. You needed to quit and never let yourself get near him ever again. He wasn’t good for you. It was stupid that you were that crazy over a man you hardly knew, had only known for a short time and had only fucked once and-

And that’s all it had been. A single fuck that didn’t mean anything to him, and shouldn’t have meant anything to you. He didn’t want you, and you shouldn’t want him, you’d told him you didn’t want him and he believed you. Any chance for anything more had been completely ruined in that moment, but you had to remind yourself that there had never been a chance for more to begin with.

You meant nothing to him, and he was slowly becoming more and more to you and you just couldn’t understand why.

You were quitting. You couldn’t do it, refused to let it turn into anything more than it already was. You wouldn’t let Poe Dameron crawl any further underneath your skin, wouldn’t let him make a home inside of you. It was stupid, foolish, silly.

Quitting was your only option. The only one that made sense.

The walk up to his office felt like it took minutes rather than seconds, your body seeming to weigh more with each step that you took. It made you start to question yourself again, debate whether or not you were really making the right decision. You had to stop second guessing yourself. You just needed to get it over and done with and put it all in the past behind you.

You were going to lose your mind if you didn’t.

The door to his office was closed, which usually meant he wasn’t in, and you cursed under your breath. Of course, the second you build up the courage you’d spent a week searching for, and something goes wrong. Of course.

You decided to knock anyways, just to see, but several seconds passed without so much as a whisper. You knocked a second time, and waited again. Still, nothing.

But right as you were about to turn away, you heard what sounded like a bang come from somewhere behind the shut door. You hesitated, frowning gently, almost sure you were simply hearing things but right when you went to walk away a second time you heard it again, only now it sounded like something had been thrown against the wall right next to the door. It happened again, and your frown only grew, and you paused for another moment before deciding to test the doorknob.

It was unlocked, and you pushed the door open without another thought, eyes on the ground as you looked to see what had been thrown. It was only a pen, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before you glanced up again, eyes scanning the room.

Your breath hitched when they landed on Poe, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest, his back against his desk and the cup of pens he kept on top of it scattered all around him — he’d knocked them off so that he had something to throw to get your attention.

His chest was heaving as his lungs struggled to pull in enough air, eyes frantic and wild when they locked on yours. He looked absolutely terrified, scared out of his mind, and for a moment you thought he might’ve been hurt he was so pale. Even from where you were standing, you could see that he was trembling and it didn’t take you long to realize that no, he wasn’t hurt.

Not physically, anyways.

Poe was having a panic attack, something you were more than familiar with, and from what you could tell based off of your own, it was only getting worse with each passing second.

Everything, all of the animosity and the stress from the last week disappeared completely in that moment as you simply continued to watch him slowly fall apart in front of you. Your desire to quit, the anger behind your decision, it was all gone, and you let yourself give your complete focus over to the man in front of you, as if he hadn’t had it all along.

But you didn’t know what he needed. You knew your own tricks, what made your attacks better and what made you spiral further, but his needs could be different. While you needed reassurance and gentle touches, he might need silence and space.

The last thing you wanted to do was make it worse, and you knew asking him would be pointless. He couldn’t speak, wouldn’t be able to answer you even if he wanted to. You wracked your brain, using your limited knowledge on the man to try and figure something out, anything that would make it even just a little better, get him to a place where he could bring himself the rest of the way down.

But it suddenly clicked as you stood there helplessly, and you immediately turned on your heel, knowing you weren’t the one to help him.

You took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the customers who looked your way with furrowed eyebrows when you made it to the bottom, only continuing down the next flight until you reached the basement.

Bee was asleep in her usual spot, her head perking up and tail wagging as she heard you move towards her. Her vest was sitting on the bar next to her, and you reached for it, causing the dog to immediately sit up and wait patiently for you to slip it on.

“Come on pretty girl,” you said, bending down in front of her to secure her vest in place — the only reason you wasted your time with it was because she couldn’t physically see Poe right then, and you needed her to know it was serious. “He needs you.”

Bee ran ahead of you, but you were right on her tail, following closely behind. She didn’t even stop when she made it upstairs, immediately going for the jacket on the back of his chair. You looked towards Poe, watching as a small bout of relief flashed in his eyes. She was exactly what he needed, and now you were positive what kind of service dog she was.

She came back around the desk with an orange pill bottle in her mouth, and you stepped forward, thinking you were going to have to open it for Poe because you had no idea how he’d get the top off with his hands shaking like they were, but as you grew closer you realized that it didn’t look like a normal bottle from any pharmacy. And sure enough, after she placed it on the ground, Bee was able to open it by pressing her paw straight down onto it.

Poe reached for it, and before he could fish the pill out, Bee was already on the move again, heading towards his backpack sitting beside the couch. She easily pulled his water bottle from the cup holder and brought it to him, but he’d already dry swallowed the pill and simply took it from her, holding it in his hand. Bee stretched out across his lap immediately after, and Poe tangled his free hand into her fur. You watched as she licked at his hand, and Poe’s eyes fluttered shut as he seemed to start relaxing from the pressure alone.

You only sank to the floor across from him, keeping your distance but not wanting to just up and leave him. You knew Bee had him, knew she’d take the best care of him, but still, you just couldn’t bring yourself to.

And so you continued to just sit there and watch as Poe’s breathing started to even out and some color returned to his cheeks. The trembling stopped, so did the sweating you hadn’t noticed before, and he looked more and more like the man you knew with each minute that passed. His hair was still a complete mess though, and you had to resist the urge to reach out and comb your fingers through it, fix it back into place.

You weren’t sure exactly how much time passed before he spoke, but when he did, his voice was quiet and weak, and it honestly made your heart ache in your chest. You didn’t like hearing him so broken.

“Thank you.”

You shook your head, picking at a random string hanging off of your jeans just to give yourself something to do, something else to look at instead of his red rimmed eyes. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“I really do.” He cleared his throat, and even though you weren’t looking at him you could tell his gaze was locked on your hands as well, just watching. “I uh, I haven’t had one hit me out of nowhere like that in a long time. Can usually find Bee before it strikes.”

“She helped you, not me. You really don’t-”

“You grabbed her without me even having to ask. You knew what I needed.”

You shrugged, finally letting your gaze flick up to him. “It wasn’t hard once I pieced it together.”

Poe looked almost embarrassed at that, gnawing on his bottom lip as he closed his eyes again, shrugging himself.

“What?” you asked gently after a moment or two passed, the silence weighing down on you, making you feel as if you had done something wrong.

Another shrug. Another round of silence, though this felt different than it had a week ago. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world either. It was just...silence.

“Poe I’m not going to think any different of you.”

He peeked an eye open, and you could tell that he was watching your chest rise and fall, trying to breathe in time with you. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you swallowed thickly, continuing on when he still didn’t say anything.

“I have panic attacks too,” you offered, your words making him relax his jaw, even if it was just a fraction.

You left it up to him, whether or not the conversation would go anywhere else or if you would both just move back into silence. You were okay with either, really, not wanting to push him to talk if he didn’t want to, but you still had no intention of leaving him. Not until he asked you to.

“It’s not just panic attacks,” he sighed eventually, rubbing a hand over his face as he continued to stroke Bee with the other. “It’s nightmares and shit too. Random flashbacks. On the bad days I can’t even get out of bed and if it weren’t for Bee, I’d probably starve there, forget to drink water and take my meds. It’s-”

“It’s PTSD.”

You remembered what he had told you, about being in the military years ago. You remembered how he’d scanned the crowded bar with something close to distrust on the night he’d helped you tend to it, how he’d seemed nervous to be in such a large, hectic group of people. You remembered touching the scar on the back of his neck, and how he had flinched and guided your hands elsewhere.

Poe swallowed thickly, his eyes finding yours for the first time as he nodded his head slowly. “It’s PTSD,” he echoed.

“And that’s okay,” you said, your voice as gentle as before. “I’m still not gonna think any less of you, Dameron.”

He fell silent again, but didn’t look away from you as he fumbled with Bee’s vest, swiftly undoing it, though she still didn’t move from his lap, and you could tell he was grateful for it.

“I never thought I’d be part of the damn statistic that can’t handle the sound of fireworks,” he chuckled bitterly, the sound devoid of any humor. “But you know what I did my first New Year’s back in the states?”

He paused, for just a second, almost like he was actually expecting you to answer.

“I pulled my dad to the ground, tried to cover him after the first one shot off, and I wouldn’t get off of him until they stopped.”

You stayed silent again, allowing him the chance to just let it out.

“I mean, he was a fuckin’ soldier too and I’ve never once seen the man flinch at any loud sound or, or get nervous in a crowd. Nothing.”

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to him.”

He chuckled again, rolling his eyes. His frustration was evident, and you wished you could fix it for him, take some of it away but you knew it wasn’t your place, knew there was nothing more you could offer him than a shoulder to lean on. He wouldn’t take your help, anyways.

“It’s kind of hard not to when that’s all anyone has ever done your entire life.”

“But it’s not like it’s something you can control. It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“If I had worked harder to push it down-”

“If you had pushed it down it would’ve become unbearable, unmanageable. You wouldn’t have been able to handle it when it finally did hit.”

Poe knew you were right, you could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed, and how he shifted just slightly, looking almost uncomfortable again, like he’d been caught. “How do you know?”

“Because you’re not the only person in the world that has trauma to live with, Poe.”

His face softened, just a fraction, but enough for you to see some flicker of emotion flash in his eyes — the same damned look you had been spending the last week trying to figure out, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Still, you wondered what was going through his head, what he was thinking.

“What is it?” you asked, tearing your gaze away from him, pretending like you hadn’t just admitted that you were just as damaged as him in your own way.

“Really?” he scoffed, shaking his head from side to side. “You’re really going to sit here and tell me not to feel ashamed but then you’re gonna shut down the second your own shit is brought up?”

“We’re not talking about me right now-”

“Seems a little hypocritical if you ask me, princess.”

“Like I said,” you shrugged, sighing under your breath, forcing yourself to find his eyes again. “We’re not talking about me right now.”

He narrowed his eyes, but before he had a chance to argue, you were already speaking again, continuing on.

“Neither of us needs to be thinking about that kind of shit right now. Save it for another day when we’re about five shots in and don’t know any better.”

Again, Poe knew you were right. And this time, he seemed to accept it, a small smirk working its way onto his face as he gave his first genuine laugh of the day. “You promise?”

“As long as I don’t have to pay for them,” you teased, reaching your leg out to gently tap his foot with yours, eyes playful. “I promise.”

You didn’t know why you promised, but you suspected it had something to do with the way his lips twitched upwards and how his eyes started to sparkle like they held the entire night sky.

“You feeling any better?” you asked, keeping your foot in place, trying to play it off like the miniscule contact didn’t make your heart race, like you didn’t notice you were still touching.

“Better,” he sighed, running a hand through his disheveled curls messing them up further. He smirked again, tilting his head to the side. “But a shot does sound nice right about now.”

You snorted, gently kicking at him before you forced yourself to pull back and stand with a soft groan, your back protesting from being on the floor for so long. “I’m not giving you alcohol right now Dameron. But I’d really appreciate it if you’d drink some of that water for me.”

Poe pretended to pout, but easily undid the cap on his nearly forgotten bottle, gulping down the contents in just a few seconds. You reached for it once it was empty, turning on your heel so you could run downstairs and fill it for him, but he stopped you, his hand shooting out to loosely wrap around your wrist.

Your skin felt like it was on fire from his simple touch, and that fire only grew when he started to absentmindedly trail his fingers along the inside of your wrist. At least, you assumed he didn’t realize what he was doing.

“Seriously, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come up here.”

You shook your head, offering him a small smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

He held on tighter when you tried to pull away again, his eyebrows furrowing, lips gently pursed. “Did you need something? Is that why you were looking for me? Shit, sorry, I-”

“No,” you said before you could think twice about your answer, continuing to gently shake your head. “No, it wasn’t anything important. I don’t even remember what it was. Really, Poe, don’t worry about it.”

You hoped your words were convincing, that he wouldn’t be able to see through you or them.

Poe hesitated, but soon nodded, letting go of your wrist and you were sure you saw the tips of his ears turn pink before you turned again, mumbling over your shoulder how you’d be back with a full bottle of ice water in just a minute or two.

You sighed in relief as you started down the stairs, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. The good type of butterflies.

There was no way you could quit now. Even if you really wanted to.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #tros #star wars #tfa #tlj #poe dameron fanfic #my writing

218 notes · View notes

princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

Text

Euphoria

Request: Anonymous said: Cockwarming with geralt? I'm leaving this intentionally vague to give creative freedom. Your writing rocks! You would do me and the world a service if you wrote this

@the-winter-witcher wrote a PHENOMENAL drabble about Geralt, Jaskier, and Reader that inspired this. You can find the drabble here

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader, brief, BRIEF mention of Geralt x Jaskier

Summary: Your curious naivety, and the egging on of Jaskier, made you eat a plant with mind-bending affects. Geralt forces you to learn from your actions and refuses to give you any of the relief you so desperately crave, until things take a turn for the worst.

Author’s Note: For this oneshot I drew inspiration from one time I got high and it ended poorly. Please note that this is not what what every kind of high experience is like. As long as the right amount is taken, the high shouldn’t be a bad experience. If drug use makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read.

Warning(s): drug use, voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, cockwarming, overstimulation

Word Count: 3,043

Your body is burning, and it’s not because of the lit fireplace on the other side of the room. You silently curse Jaskier. Then you remember that if anyone’s to blame, it’s you. You’re the one that went looking for that stupid herb. You’re the one who had ignored Geralt when he’d warned you not to eat it. You’re the one who had been intrigued in Jaskier’s tales of being high of off a mysterious purple flower, not weary like a smart person. And now, you’re the one paying the price for your reckless curiosity.

“Geralt!” you call out again, though you know his response won’t change.

You clutch your throat as the fire inside of you licks up the sides of your esophagus, making your throat painfully dry. Every part of you is uncomfortable and hot, including your core. You’ve had your legs squeezed together for a few good minutes now. Still, that annoying ache won’t go away. You might know your body well enough to get the job done, but your hands are nothing compared to Geralt’s.

“Please--I need you.” This time your plea gets his attention. Vocalizing your needs isn’t something you do often, even when it’s him you’re craving. You live by the philosophy of taking what you want in the moment and asking for forgiveness later.

He looks over his shoulder from his place by the fireplace. The fire creates a silver lining around his body. It makes him look like an angel. Or maybe that’s just the drug talking. His gold eyes bore into yours as he takes in your weak, writhing form on the floor of the inn. For a second you see a flash of pity in his eyes, and though you absolutely loath the thought of anyone pitying you, you think his pity is enough for him to give in and tame the monster inside of you. But then his expression cools. You know this is a battle you’ve already lost.

You’re becoming so desperate you want to scream, and if Geralt won’t give you what you need, you’ll do it yourself. He watches you intently as you spread your legs and pull up the skirts of your dress enough to reveal your soaked pussy. You hear a growl from his end of the room. It’s a warning; he knows exactly what you’re planning and will punish you if you go through with it.

“Touch me, Geralt,” you try again, one more time.

His hand twitches, as if longing to reach out to you, but he stays on the other side of the room. “This is the drug talking. You’ll be fine once it’s through your system. Until then, you’ll hold off from touching yourself.”

“But you won’t touch me,” you sigh.

He gives you a hmm that you know is his sound of agreement.

You need release, and you need it now. Every second that passes makes your body burn more hotly, makes you ache even more until you’re completely uncomfortable.

So you ignore him. You try to hold his gaze as you run a finger between your folds, already coating your hand with your juices, but the sensation is so relieving that your eyes close. Geralt doesn’t say anything as you touch yourself but you know he’s watching. Not only can you feel his intense gaze on you, but he’s a bit of a voyeur. After you two were together, that became the only reason he allowed you to touch yourself. He enjoyed the show too much. He’d always wait until after the damage had been done to punish you for touching what was his.

You rub slow circles against your clit and your body shakes as the sensation registers within every nerve. Usually only Geralt can make such a small touch have such a big affect on you, but the drug makes your tactile senses hypersensitive. You understand Jaskier’s warning about addiction now. If this heat, this intensity in your core, is due to the drug, you want to try it again. Pleasure is already shooting through your body so intensely that you know you’re seconds away from coming--and after one simple touch.

Your hand is pulled away from your soaked core. Your eyes flash open to see Geralt kneeling over you, his jaw flexed with impatient disapproval. He holds your wrist in a grip so tight the blood has drained from his knuckles. The pain is dull, though. It doesn’t register the way the pleasure you were feeling a second ago did.

You bring your other hand to your pussy and begin to touch yourself. You can’t fully register Geralt, can’t register the pain in your wrist. All you can think about is that addictive pleasure. It rings through you at an intensity you’ve never experienced and all you know is you want it again and again and again.

Time speeds up so quickly you can’t keep up with it. One second you’re on the floor, Geralt hovering over you as you disobediently continue to touch yourself--and the next you’re on the bed, sitting on Geralt’s lap with your back against his chest, both of your arms locked in his deathly grip.

“Geralt...” you breathe out. The fear that makes your heart race is evident in your voice. The drug was fun--until you started losing track of things. That was what you didn’t like: not being able to control your body. How much time had just passed? How much had you just forgotten? You’ve never blacked out before and it’s not something you want to experience again.

Geralt wraps his other arm around your front, pulling you as tight against him as is comfortable. Your fear begins to simmer. You know that whatever happens, he’ll keep you safe. Even if he’s pissed at you. He won’t let anything happen to you. Right?

His leg tenses underneath you. Probably nothing more than a twitch or a muscle spasm, but it registers in your core all the same. Your body is suddenly on fire again. The pleasure burning inside of you is so intense that you want to scream or cry. His leg relaxes. But you’re still craving release from this painful pleasure, so you begin to grind your hips against him. Your walls flex around nothing and you feel yourself drip onto his pants, soaking the material. A faint moan that you recognize as your own fills your ears--

And then time jumps again.

You’re back on the floor, your back pressed up against the side of the bed. Geralt kneels on the other side of the room, frantically searching through his bag for... something. You don’t know what. Jaskier is beside you, his hand on your shoulder and his blue eyes full of anxious worry as he looks at you.

“What’s happening?” you ask. Your voice is weak. There’s a lump in your throat. Have you been crying?

“...took too much,” you hear Jaskier say, his eyes still on you. Is he talking to you or Geralt?

Geralt grumbles something at Jaskier and you try to hold onto the words long enough to make sense of them, but you lose your focus too soon and the words become lost.

You see Jaskier pull away from you suddenly, his attention now on Geralt. You reach out to the bard, sobbing that you don’t want him to leave you. He wraps his arms around you in an assuring embrace.

“I’m staying right here,” he promises.

Time pulls you forward, though once again you can’t tell if minutes or hours have passed. Jaskier is still by your side, but now Geralt is in front of you. He holds one of his elixir tubes in his hand. It’s empty, you realize--just as you taste the awful, bitter taste in your mouth. It’s so strong that you almost gag. But the haze begins to slowly, slowly loosen it’s deathlike grip around your mind. Your body feels like yours again. You no longer feel like you’re watching everything play out from a bird’s eye view.

“Did you give me something?” you ask Geralt, your eyes on the empty tube.

“It helps clear poison out of your body,” Geralt explains by way of answer. “It tamed the effects of that stupid plant.” He shoots Jaskier a scowl before looking back at you. “But this elixir comes with its own side effects.”

“Meaning...?” you wonder--and then it hits you. Your mouth falls open as your entire body begins to burn. This is nothing like the arousal you felt from the flower. This is magnified, a million times worse. It’s so painful you actually can’t breathe, can’t speak. Tears form in your eyes in a matter of seconds.

Geralt watches you intently. You realize he’s been waiting for the new drug to take affect before he orders Jaskier out of the room. The bard is reluctant, but one warning look from Geralt sends him running.

Geralt cups the side of your face. The simple touch is so much, so overwhelming against your burning skin that it makes you wet. You’d be embarrassed if Geralt wasn’t acting so calm about this, like this is how the elixir is supposed to make someone feel.

“What the hell did you give me?” The question comes out in a strained voice as you hold back a whimper.

He’s hesitant to answer. “It’s an antidote... that’s also an aphrodisiac.”

His deep voice--the way it curls around you and warms the room--makes you moan. You can’t think to be mad at him for worsening your situation. All you are aware of is too much distance between you and him, too much clothing, too much everything.

“Geralt...” You don’t even have the strength to beg him anymore. With no willpower left inside of you, you reach out and kiss him.

He’s surprised enough--or perhaps momentarily generous enough--to not pull back or push you away. Instead he returns the kiss. Your mouth moves against his in fast desperation, too eager to get to the finale to actually take in the current moment. But he kisses you back slowly, forcing you to take your time. Tasting him, feeling his breath mingle with yours, hearing the sloppy collision of your mouths--it makes your every nerve tingle and burn until you think you’ll be consumed by this pleasure.

And then he pulls away from you. Before you can protest, he rises to his feet and moves to the bed, dragging you with him. He hovers over you and lifts your skirts until your bottom half is completely exposed to him. Ever the tease, he takes his time to spread your legs and admire how wet you are. You open your mouth to call out his name, to beg, anything to make him touch you--but before you can get any words out, he dives between your legs and licks a long, slow stripe against your heat. His tongue is wide and warm and strong, and he knows just how to use it, so he has you gasping and writhing in seconds, already on the verge of coming. You let out a shaky gasp as his tongue slides between your folds and moves towards your clit. All it takes is one swipe of his mouth against your bud and you’re seeing stars, gripping the bedsheets with a painful grip. He hums in approval as you cum around his mouth. The vibrations of his voice send a jolt up your spine. You have no control over your body as you grind against his mouth, already desperate for another release. His mouth wraps around you with a tight suck as his tongue circles your clit at a speed that sends you over the edge in ten seconds. Your entire body shakes as you cum for the second time in less than a minute.

“How... how long... will this... last?” you manage to get out between gasps and moans.

He pulls away from you, the bottom half of his face covered in your juices. His pupils are blown. The sight of him is so sinful and hot that you let out a small whine. “From my experience, all night. Or until you pass out. Whichever comes first.”

“Wait, you’ve... experienced... this... before?” you struggle to get out as he marks your inner thighs with playful bites.

His eyes jump to yours as he kisses all the places he just bit you. “How many times do you think Jaskier had to go through this exact situation before he learned his lesson?”

Was Geralt the one who had taken care of him on those nights? You try not to picture it, but a filthy image of Jaskier’s long, lean legs wrapped around Geralt’s back as he plows into the bard runs through your mind before you can stop it. Gods, what I wouldn’t give to be between those two when they go at it, you think, and then your thoughts completely stop when Geralt moves his mouth back to your pussy.

While his tongue entertains your clit, his fingers move between your folds. They’re coated in your arousal in seconds. He hums again against your heat, sending another wave of pleasure through you, and just as you begin to come down from it, your pleasure magnifies again as he inserts those two fingers deep inside of you. You let out a breathy gasp as you cum around him. Your volume grows with each orgasm, but you don’t currently maintain the mental capacity to care. Your orgasm stretches out longer as he moves his fingers inside of you at an inhuman speed. He has to hold down your hips as your legs spasm and squeeze around him in the midst of your high. It’s so good that you forget to breathe for a few seconds and only remember once your head begins to pound. After what feels like forever, he finally relents. Geralt pulls his fingers out of you and lifts them to your mouth. You suck on them eagerly, licking every last drop of juices from his hand. It’s not so much that you like the taste of it--you don’t--but the way he watches you when you do this, with that absolutely feral look in his eyes, makes it all worth it.

He pulls back somewhat reluctantly and begins to unbutton his pants. You try to be patient, but after a few seconds you give in and lean over to help him. You accidentally pop the buttons off in your eagerness. They go flying across the room. You expect Geralt to be mad, but he just chuckles.

“I like seeing you this desperate for me,” he says as he undresses himself. “Under different circumstances, I’d be teasing you all night. I’d love to make you a moaning mess underneath me.”

“I already am,” you huff, hating how pathetically desperate you are right now.

He gives you a smirk that makes your toes curl. “I know.”

He’s between your legs in a flash, his perfectly-erect cock bouncing with the movement. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you as he lines himself up with your entrance. You bite your lip. This is what you’ve been waiting for all night. The fact that it’s finally happening is so relieving you want to cry. Geralt runs his achingly hard cock between your folds long enough that you know he’s once again teasing you. You whimper, but that just encourages him. He begins to move faster between your folds, watching every expression on your face as you go from impatient to aroused to being pushed over the edge for the fourth time. He holds onto you as your body shakes through your orgasm. You breathe a sigh of relief when your orgasm finishes--you’re already so tired, so overstimulated, you just want the pain to end--but he waits until the exact moment you’re coherent again to push all the way inside of you. He bottoms out instantly, not caring if it’s painful, and your walls clench around him so hard he grunts and closes his eyes in bliss. Geralt doesn’t even have to do anything before you’re coming again. You’re so wound up that just the feeling of his thick, heavy cock inside of you is enough to overwhelm you. You clutch desperately to his arms, your nails no doubt leaving marks in his skin, and the orgasm is so overwhelming that you actually do start to cry.

Geralt still doesn’t move inside of you, even when you beg him to. Instead he basks in the way your walls squeeze oh so tightly around him, drawing him to his own pleasure. Even when his desperation is written all over his face, he doesn’t move. You’re granted a moment to control your breathing. Eventually it goes from broken whines to normal breaths. Your body begins to relax, even with his cock buried deep in you. But your energy is spent and you’ve reached your peak of orgasms for the night, so your muscles begin to relax and refuse to move.

“Geralt,” you call out through your sleepy, relaxed haze.

He brushes his nose against your cheek and murmurs, “I’m here. Sleep now, my love.”

And you do.

***

Your body is still intertwined with your witcher’s the next time you open your eyes. It’s impossible to know if hours or days have passed, but your body feels rested enough for you to know that it’s been a while. Geralt is already awake, lost in thought as he stares up at the ceiling. He notices you stir.

“Sleep well?” he asks, his voice a whisper.

You smile and nod into his chest.

“Are you going to eat that plant again?”

“Never,” you say without hesitation. Your mind and body weren’t your own last night. You never want to experience that lack of control again.

He hums softly. You have no doubt it’s a sound of approval. “Are you sore?” he wonders.

You focus on your body, trying to find any pain points. “No,” you tell him honestly.

“Good.” His hand wraps around your neck. “Now I don’t have to hold back from punishing you.”

***

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aerynwrites · 4 years

Text

Duty and Honor

Oberyn Martell x Reader

Author’s Note: Okay I know I said that I had Ezra and Javi Soulmate AU’s in the works (which is still happening lol), but this idea popped into my head like two days ago and I just felt really inspired to write for it! Plus Oberyn is the character that first got me into Pedro Pascal and his work, so I feel I should finally dedicate a piece to the character that started it all! Hope you all enjoy! <3

Summary: Reader is less than enthused to find out she is being married off to the infamous Red Viper, something she makes very clear. (sorry I suck at summaries)

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: cursing, arranged marriages, angst, fluff.

*Thank you to my wonderful beta readers @anniebombannie and @amberthefiredemon Y’all rock and i love you.*

/////

“I will not do it!”

Your voice rings out harshly in the room you’re currently occupying with your father, Tywin Lannister, who just frowns at your outburst.

“You have no say in the matter. You are betrothed to Oberyn Martell, and you will be married to Oberyn Martell within the fortnight,” he says finally, returning his attention to the papers in front of him, “You are dismissed.”

You felt your blood boil within your veins at his dismissive tone, “No.” Your voice is firm and dripping with venom as you clench your fists at your side and hold your chin high.

Tywin freezes before his eyes slowly lift to meet yours, a look of sheer contempt clear in his eyes, “Excuse me?” he snips out.

“I refuse to marry him father, I will not do it” you seethe.

Tywin finally rises from his chair, “You will do as you are told. Whether you like the command or not. You are my daughter and you will do as I say,” his voice is tight, he’s clearly losing his patience with you, but you don’t back down.

You feel tears start to gather in your eyes now, anger being met with complete and utter despair, “No! I won’t let you sell me off like some piece of cattle, I’m your daughter for god’s sake! Does that mean nothing to you? We are Lannister’s!” you cry, voice cracking.

“Enough!” Your father yells, hands slamming against the table loudly, causing you to jump slightly.

“I am used to this coming from your sister, but I expected more from you,” he bites, “Now you best leave before I decide to marry you off to someone like Loras Tyrell instead,” his voice is eerily calm as he finishes, something that scares you slightly.

So, swallowing your pride, you nod, “As you wish, my lord hand.” You sneer the last part before turning on your heel and all but run from the room.

The door closes with a certain finality behind you and you can’t stop the tears that follow.

----------

You sit stiffly beside your father and sister in the banquet hall, watching as the festivities celebrate the arrival of your betrothed roar throughout the room. You had yet to meet the man you were to marry, and silently, you were thankful for it. You weren’t entirely sure you would be able to keep your tongue if the man came to see you, so you thought it best to put off the inevitable. However, as your eyes roamed over the crowd of people, they finally landed on the one person you were trying to avoid.

Prince Oberyn himself.

You watched as he talked boisterously with Margery and Olenna Tyrell, and you also took note of the beautiful woman latched onto his arm. You furrowed your brow slightly, and Cersei must have seen what caught your eye because she let out a dry laugh before nudging your shoulder with her hand.

“I see you have finally spotted your betrothed,” she says.

You turn to look at her slightly, “Apparently so,” you sigh.

“I just wish he would have left his paramour in Dorne,” she says, disdain clear in her words, “It is rather tasteless.”

Your eyes widen and your heart drops into your stomach, “His what?” you whisper, trying to hold back the bile you felt rising in your throat.

Cersei gives you a sympathetic smile. While the woman was known for her cruelty, she had a soft spot for her baby sister, and she was just as angry at your father for his decision as you were, but she had fought that battle before, and lost. So, all she could do was watch.

“I’m sorry my sweet,” she says sincerely, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You take your eyes from her concerned ones and turn your gaze back to your future husband, only to find him staring right back, a devilish grin on his face as he raises his glass to you. You immediately stand from your seat, almost knocking the chair over in the process, and grab your dress in your hands, ignoring your father’s shocked and angered expression.

“(y/n) what in the seven hell’s-“

You cut him off, trying to ignore the confused expression Oberyn sent your way, “Excuse me for a moment,” you whisper, walking swiftly from the table and out of the room, ignoring your father’s frustrated calls of your name all the while.

You wove through the throngs of people, desperate to get out of the suffocating room. Just as you broke through the crowd and got through the doors of the banquet hall you ran directly into what felt like a wall. You let out a startled gasp when you felt a steadying hand on your low back, quickly stepping away and looking up to see that the wall you ran into hadn’t been a wall at all.

It was Oberyn, with his paramour at his side, both of them smiling sweetly at you.

You couldn’t stop the deep frown that settled onto your face as you took a step back from them both, pushing his hand from you, earning confused and somewhat concerned looks from them both. But Oberyn gives you a polite bow, nonetheless, sending you another award-winning smile.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet my betrothed,” he begins, voice thick with a dornish accent, “Prince Oberyn Martell, and Ellaria Sand” He introduces them both, looking at you expectantly.

You had to compose yourself momentarily, you felt tears bubbling in the back of your eyes, but they were quickly stamped out by the anger at your situation. Part of you knew it was irrational, that Oberyn was as forced into this arrangement as you were, yet you couldn’t stop the frustration from escaping, despite all your lady-like training.

You grip the skirt of your dress in your fists tightly, “I wish I could say the same my prince but I cannot,” you begin, feeling a slight sense of triumph at the baffled expressions on both of their faces. You continue.

“I didn't even know of this arrangement until this morning and then I find out that you were to arrive this evening. Then I sit at dinner all night without a single greeting from the man I’m being forced to marry, and I find out from my sister that you brought your paramour with you?” you scoff, “So Prince Oberyn and Ellaria Sand, I am not pleased to meet you in the slightest,” you bark before turning on your heel to return to your chambers, not seeing the concerned glances the pair share as you depart.

------------

The next day you sit in the gardens for breakfast with Sansa while enjoying lemon cakes and the book you have most recently started reading. Sansa and yourself had become quick friends, you being at her side since she arrived in kings landing all those moons ago. You were several years older than her, only a few years younger than Cersei, but you saw her as a younger sister, and she was just happy to have a friend among the enemies. She was currently doing some needlework while you read, the both of you snacking on lemon cakes, when she spoke up, breaking the silence.

“I still can’t believe you said those things to Lord Tywin and Prince Oberyn,” she says quietly, “Aren’t you afraid of what they might do?” she asks innocently.

You pull your eyes from your book and look at the girl for a moment, taking in her questioning stare as she set the embroidering hoop in her lap, and you sighed.

“As much as Tywin likes to look menacing, he would never hurt me. And as for Prince Oberyn-“ you scoff, “I would rather fight the mountain than be married off to a Dornish prince,” you say, earning a gasp followed quickly by laughter from the young girl.

“No, you wouldn’t,” she says before sighing wistfully and returning to her work, “I think Prince Oberyn is quite charming.”

You frown for a moment, taking in the girl’s words. While you absolutely loathed the idea of being married off to some far away lord, you had to admit that Sansa was right. The first thing that flashed through your mind when you saw him at the banquet last night was his charming nature. His dark hair matched with the well-kept scruff lining his jaw, his deep yet sincere dark eyes, and his albeit inappropriate yet fine silk robes, were all things that you noticed. Prince Oberyn was an attractive man, and to make things even worse for you, Ellaria was an equally attractive woman. Perhaps that is what scared you most.

Yes...scared.

While you try to hide your emotions behind a thinly veiled act of anger, you were terrified. Terrified of moving so far away from everything you knew. Terrified of marrying a man you didn’t know. And now, terrified that you would never be truly loved by your future husband, as it seemed that his love was already claimed by another.

You were drawn from your thoughts by Sansa calling your name, an amused smirk on her face, “Thinking about a certain Dornish Prince?” she teases.

You roll your eyes, “Oh shut up,” you groan, “But you’re right.” You relent, “The prince is quite charming. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want to marry him.”

Sansa just nods, still sewing, before she speaks up once more, “Are you scared? I know I was scared when I had to marry King Joffrey,” she admits quietly, before looking shocked by her own words and started to backtrack, “But I’m sure you aren’t. That was a stupid question.” She mutters, quickly returning to her work.

You sit up straighter, moving to reassure the girl that it was, in fact, not a stupid question, when you see a familiar figure clad in orange and yellow approaching your table. You let out a small sigh and rested a hand onto Sansa’s gently, stilling her movements.

“I’m quite terrified actually,” you admit, casting a glance at the Prince who was now a few feet away.

Sansa catches your gaze and sends you a small smile before picking up her sewing and standing from her seat, curtsying to Oberyn as she leaves. You watch her go before you finally turn your attention to the Prince standing in front of you, hands clasped behind his back. You lift your book up to block the sun from your eyes, trying to get a better look at him.

“Good morning Lady (y/n),” he greets kindly, gesturing to the seat across from you, “May I sit?”

You set the book down and look at the chair previously occupied by Sansa and sigh, “I suppose.”

Oberyn smiles and takes a seat, hands clasped and resting on the table. Neither of you say anything for a moment. You sit silently tracing the letters etched into the leather cover of your book, while Oberyn watches you quietly. You take in a deep breath before resting both your hands atop the book impatiently, “Is there a reason you ruined my breakfast, or do you just enjoy tormenting me?” you asked snidely.

Oberyn sent you an amused smile before leaning back in his chair, “We are to be married in less than a fortnight,” he says simply, shrugging his shoulders.

You scoff, “I am well aware of that,” you snap, “I don’t see why you came all this way to rub that in my face.”

Oberyn sighed, “I know you are unhappy with this arrangement, but I am no happier than you are,” he begins, “In Dorne we believe in free love. Being with whoever you want and loving whoever you want, so this-“ he gestures between you two, “is not something I desire either.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks. You should be happy. He just affirmed that he doesn’t want this marriage either, just like you. So why did it hurt so much? Was it the fact that you were destined to be in a mutual disagreement for the rest of your life? Or was it more?

Before you could find an answer Oberyn spoke up once more, “But it is happening. And I would rather not be miserable for the next, however many years of my life. So, if you could at least try to like me, I would greatly appreciate it,” he says finally, sending you another one of those dashing smiles, except this time instead of infuriating you, it makes your heart flutter.

You clear your throat, and glance from the Prince sitting across from you back down to your book, opening it to the page you left off on, “I suppose that’s not such a terrible idea my Prince,” you say casually.

Obery chuckles, “Please, you are to by my wife, Oberyn is fine.”

You only nod at his words, trying to busy yourself with the book in front of you, but he isn’t having any of it.

“Not many women from the north are fond of books,” he notes, pointing to the object in your hands.

You roll your eyes, “This is the south.”

Oberyn just chuckles again, igniting yet another round of butterflies in your stomach, “You have it all wrong my lady-“

“Oh, do I?” you ask indignantly.

He smiles and nods, “this is the north,” he insists, “Dorne is the true south.”

You peer at him over your book, you supposed it did make some sense geographically, but you weren’t going to let him know that, so you shrug, “Yes well, here-“ you gestured around you, “it’s the south and Dorne is just Dorne,” you say simply, attempting to return to your book.

“Have you ever been?” his voice interrupts you once more so you sigh, setting your book down since it didn’t seem like you would get much reading done anyway.

“Have I been where?”

He smiles, “To Dorne.”

You purse your lips, “No, I haven’t…” you pause for a moment before crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair, not wanting to seem too interested but curious nonetheless, “What is it like?”

Oberyn gives you the biggest grin you think you’ve ever seen, before he goes on to tell you of his homeland. The sparkling blue waters, the water gardens, the beautiful flowers and buildings. You spend the next few hours like that. Just talking about your home, his home, and anything else that comes up, and as much as you hate to admit it, you start to enjoy his company. The only reason you end the conversation is because your handmaiden comes to get you to start getting fitted for your dress. As the words leave her mouth you feel a lump form in your throat.

Yes…the wedding.

You had almost forgotten about the dreadful event while you spent the morning talking to Oberyn. He had put you at ease and seemed to make your anxieties melt away. But as the Handmaiden so kindly reminded you, time was of the essence, and the wedding was truly not that far off. You had to fight back the fearful tears as you stood from your chair and gave a small curtsy to Oberyn.

“I’ll be seeing you Oberyn,” you say politely.

He smiles, taking your hand in his own and pressing his lips gently to the back of it, “Good day Lady (y/n).”

All you could manage was a wobbly smile before he dropped your hand and you turned to follow your handmaiden, all the fears from before bubbling back to the surface.

----------

Despite the constant reminders of your impending doom, you and Oberyn continued to meet. He would find you in the gardens or the library or even stumble upon you walking through the castle and you two would end up spending hours together. He would tell you more stories of Dorne, or about his training at the citadel, something you found quite interesting to say the least; and he would ask you about your family, your hobbies, and really anything else about you. you realized as the days turned into weeks and your wedding was only a day away, that you had fallen in love with the Prince of Dorne. A feeling that scared you to no end.

Through these two weeks since you first found out about the betrothal, you had come to love everything about Oberyn. His smile, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he did both of those things. You loved his sense of adventure and his knowledge of seemingly everything there was to know. You loved the way he would hold your hand gently or kiss you on the cheek when bidding you goodnight.

You loved Oberyn Martell.

So, when he started to bring Ellaria along to some of his meetings with you, you couldn’t help but feel jealousy rise within you. But not an anger driven Jealousy – no - this was a despairing saddening jealousy. Because she was a wonderful and kind woman. She had been nothing but kind to you since you met, bringing you sweets, or tucking a flower behind your ear, or braiding your hair. On top of all these overly kind and compassionate gestures, she was beautiful. More beautiful and electrifying than you thought you could ever be. So, you didn’t think for a moment that Oberyn could ever love you when Ellaria was right there. Seven hells, he already had her. He loves her, it was so blatantly clear in the way he looks at her or kisses her or tucks flowers behind her ear. You just knew he would never love you, a thought that made your heart ache so deep in your chest that your throat tightened up anytime you thought about it. Which was most of the time if you were being honest. You had cried yourself to sleep almost every night for the past four nights, even breaking down on poor Sansa one morning at breakfast, forcing the girl to try and console you as you cried into the lemon cakes.

Tonight, the evening before the wedding, was no different.

You had gone to the gardens to try and find some peace from your restless thoughts, hoping the stars would give you some comfort. But as you looked up into the night sky, the crickets chirping and the crackle of the torches filling the air, all you could think of was Oberyn. All you could see were the constellations he had pointed out to your mere nights ago, and the stories Ellaria gave them as he did so. The only thing you would think of as you collapsed, sobbing, onto a nearby bench was the fact that you were about to enter a one-sided marriage, a loveless union with non-mutual feelings. Your chest was aching so fiercely you thought your heart might rip from your chest and it even made your fingers tingle. You couldn’t hear anything over your own sobs, so when a warm hand rested itself on your shoulder you jerked in surprise wiping quickly at your tears as you looked up to identify the intruder. Your heart sank even further when you realized it was the very man you were crying over, sitting next to you on the stone bench, a look of deep concern etched onto his features.

“What is wrong my flower? What has caused you such sadness?” he asks quietly, his hand coming to wipe gently at the tears still streaming down your cheeks.

You sniffle and turn away from him, slightly embarrassed that he found you in such a state, yet unable to compose yourself or stop the tears. You don’t say anything. what could you say? Confess your love to a man who doesn’t love you back? Tell him you are still terrified of getting wed tomorrow? Neither of those options sounded appealing, yet Oberyn seemed to understand anyways. He let out a long sigh, cradling one of your hands in both of his.

“Ah,” he breathes, “The wedding.”

“Yes,” you say simply, throat clogged with too many emotions to say much more.

Oberyn turns to face you, hands squeezing yours reassuringly, “What are you afraid of flower?” His voice is sincere, and filled with concern, and this alone brings more tears to your eyes, and another wave of cries wrack your body as you finally crack. All of your pent-up emotions and thoughts spilling out at once.

“I’m afraid of this marriage Oberyn,” you cry, wiping at your nose with your free hand, “I love you,” you finally admit, “I have grown to love you over this short time, and it terrifies me because you have her.”

Oberyn’s brows knit together in confusion, “Ellaria? What does she have to do with this?” he asks incredulously.

You look at him now, really look at him for the first time since he’s sat down, and you see utter confusion on his face, something out of character for the usually confident and suave man, and you take in a deep, shuddering breath.

“She has everything to do with this,” you whisper, “You lover her.” You say finally, a single tear slips down your cheek as you finally say the words out loud, “You love her Oberyn. Not me. And as much as I love you,” your voice cracks pathetically, “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a one-sided marriage,” you say finally.

Your words hang heavy in the air and, for a moment, everything is silent. Even the crickets have stopped singing and the only thing you can hear are your quiet sniffles. Nothing is said for what feels like ages, until Oberyn takes your chin between his fingers and gently urges you to look at him.

“It’s true,” he begins, “I am in love with Ellaria,” he states.

You let out a small sigh and close your eyes, your heart breaking in two. But Oberyn’s hands cupping the sides of your face make you open your eyes once more and you are greeted with his dark brown eyes swimming in emotion as he gazes at you.

“But I love you too,” he admits, “You can love more than one person, my love. And I love Ellaria and you. My love for is more vast than the stars in the sky, and I knew it from the moment I met you in that hallway,” his words were laced with emotion.

Even though you could tell he was sincere, the seed of self-doubt was planted deeper than you thought, and you shook your head.

“How can you love me when you have Ellaria?” you ask quietly.

Oberyn smiles, one hand moving down to rest behind your neck while the other stayed on your cheek, thumb wiping away any traces of tears.

“Because you are different from any woman I’ve met,” he whispers, “You are fierce and have a quick wit, yet you are unceasingly kind and compassionate. I love the way your nose crinkles when you disagree with something and I love the way you speak about the things you are passionate about. I love the way your eyes shine when you laugh with Sansa or speak with Ellaria. I love your smile and your humor and your biting edge and your passion – “ he pauses for a moment, just to look at you for a moment longer before he continues, “I love you my flower, all of you.”

Before you can process the whirlwind of emotions his words brought upon you, Oberyn is pulling you in for a passionate yet gentle kiss. And as if his words didn’t reassure you enough, this kiss did. You both said all of the things you couldn’t say out loud during this moment, and when you finally pulled away, you were both smiling the most genuinely happy smiles you had in a long time. And for the first time since you found out about this arrangement, you weren’t afraid. You were excited - happy even - to be lucky enough to marry a man like Oberyn.

He smiles at you sweetly, pressing another quick kiss to your lips and asking, “Are you still afraid?”

You just chuckle and shake your head, “Not in the slightest, my Prince.”

/////

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Pedro Tag: @fleurdemiel145 @lustriix @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii @longitud-de-onda @jellyfishpoptart @ah-callie @mutantsandproud @pascalisthepunkest @24kgolden @kaelyn-lobrutto24

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn x reader #oberyn martell #prince oberyn #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader

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polandspringz · 3 years

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Poland’s Thoughts on the OM Angel Event

AKA- I’m trying to bridge this divide in the fandom that only seems to worsen with every piece of new content

So, I just finished the new event, but before I even finished it I saw in the tags a lot of people posting about it and the majority of the reactions were negative. There’s a chance I’m reading the language in the posts a little too strongly, but I think that a lot of this anger towards the developers is misplaced, and this isn’t just limited to the OM fandom, but it is one example that can be representative of a growing issue in how we as fans consume media and interpret content, especially when it extends to how we interact with the creators of said content.

To begin, I understand what people are angry about with this event. They disliked the way the brothers were forced against their will (consent is a term I am seeing thrown around on a few posts) to act righteous, due to the bangles Simeon gave on them that were imbued with magic. People are upset seeing the brothers acting so unlike themselves, Diavolo’s role in it, as both an instigator and bystander, and how Simeon was characterized throughout this event as he largely did not see much wrong with what was happening.

I think the reason so many players are leaving this event with a sour taste is because of the lack of closure. I was taking notes on the entire event and waiting for the end to undo everything like usual and we get the characters discussing how happy they were to be back to normal again or we at least get some of their own thoughts on the experience. I was surprised that we did not get that this time, instead, we only see all the brothers continue to act unlike themselves under the spell, way too cheery and perfect with only Lucifer having partially broken the spell and watching on amused, acting as another bystander in the event. We are given the implication that the rest will return to normal in due time (somewhat like the ending of the Paws event, if I am recalling correctly) but it’s not concrete enough. We should have been given at least an extra few lines of dialogue of the characters back to normal giving their comments on the situation they went through, but because we didn’t, they don’t have any autonomy still, and we as the players are left uncertain about what is our interpretation and what is canon.

However, despite us missing this ending scene, I think the narrative of the event is undeniably still about the idea of one’s true self being important, flaws and all, and I think a lot of players are missing this concept.

When I said earlier that I think many fandoms are suffering from this problem, I’m referring to this problem where fans will gleam a theme from a work, often times it is a theme meant to showcase something problematic, and then the fans will turn on the authors and go “well it’s problematic so the creators’ are in the wrong”, forgetting that the only reason they’re interpreting it as being wrong is because the creators’ intentionally added that frame into the story. I have more strong feelings about this in the BNHA fandom, but for now, let’s stick to the OM fandom and this specific event:

1) Players are mad that the brothers were forcibly changed and not acting like themselves.

This is a valid thing to be angry about, but I am surprised seeing how many people are ignoring the fact that you as the player are given options to acknowledge that you dislike the “righteous” way the characters are being forced to behave. There are multiple points throughout this event where, when the brothers are apologizing or explaining the MC how much they’ve changed, that you can chose an option to say “I liked the old you”, “There’s something off,” or something akin to that. OM does have an issue with a lot of the dialogue options for the MC being a bit too passive, but in this event, you are not forced to like the behavior. During my playthrough of it, I actually refused to kiss some of the characters and almost exclusively told them I disliked the way they were acting even if it was something good like giving to charity in Mammon’s case.

In terms of the brothers’ being forced to act this way against their will, although the overall event does not paint this in a dark tone (it treats the brothers’ actions the same way it does any of their individual scenes with MC in other events), there are pieces of dialogue that help create this theme of choice and free will. In the first set of lessons, Beel says to the MC “It’s something I want to do, not because I’m obligated to.” A few lessons later, Belphegor says “It’s the first time I’ve felt so free.” There is blatant irony in these lines because we as the players know that there is nothing about freedom or wants/personal desires coming from these characters in this state. It’s not even dramatic irony because the MC witnessed and knows that the brothers are under a spell, hence why you can still say you miss how they were acting and that Solomon even acknowledges that things feel wrong. When I see players comment about how they are upset about the brothers being forced to act this way, I don’t understand how they are mad at the writers when it is written in the way that you are supposed to know their words are disingenuous. I will admit that the light hearted tone does offset it and make it seem as if the developers are painting their actions in a good light, but we as the MC are constantly given the option to say that something is wrong. This is not a matter of the developers seeing it as a “good” thing, but they leave it up to the player to make the choice to choose whether to embrace the way the brothers are acting as a positive thing (and personally all the options where you agree with the controlled actions of the brothers’ made me feel as though- if I chose them- that MC was not in a healthy, truthful relationship with the brothers).

In terms of the “consent” argument being thrown around, it is a valid word choice to use in this situation, however, I am surprised to see no one talking about the scene with Lucifer directly involving consent with MC. In lesson 1-12, when you are in his room with him, he asks you to get on the bed, and then pushes you down before the spell controlling him corrects his actions and he apologizes. It is not shown that he pushes you, but the flow of the scene is this-

Lucifer asks MC to get on the bed. Noise is then heard as if someone was putting weight on the bed and Lucifer says “You really trust me quite a lot,” before he says “I didn’t mean to push you down like that.”

Some players may have read it as the MC getting on the bed themselves, and whether Lucifer pushed them onto the bed is debatable, but it’s heavily implied that he at the very least pushes you down onto the bed. I think if anything, the use of the word consent in terms of this event needs to be applied here, as Lucifer forces the MC down without their consent (player is not given an option about whether to comply with his request) before the angelic-form makes him apologize for what he did. I normally am against the people who dislike how evil the demons act (they’re demons! They’re meant to be acting sinful or wrong or disagreeable with our own morals) but I just thought that if people are going to talk about consent in terms of the brothers, we should acknowledge how the theme of consent and choice is also shown in scenes like this, where the spell on Lucifer actually does a good thing by correcting his behavior when he was doing something wrong.

However, there is one more point I want to make about this event, and it follows this discussion about the demon’s behavior-

2) This event, had it been given closure, would’ve had a strong theme of accepting oneself.

This is most clearly seen with Levi and Satan. With Satan, we are aware of his dislike of his rage, his wrath. He does not like to get angry, and puts on masks to try and seem better than his core sin makes him feel. However, when he gets turned into an angel, he specifically says:

“Perhaps that’s why I feel so strange. I don’t feel like myself at all. I end up thinking about if I were an angel, would i have looked and felt like this? And then... I get a foreboding feeling. Like, my heart... becoming tranquil. Normally, that wouldn’t seem like something bad right? Something isn’t right.”

Once again, I would like to point out that the reason that players are able to look at this event and say, “The brothers are being forced to not act like themselves, and that’s bad and upsets me as a player” is because the writers themselves are writing into the story that it is bad. Satan is directly acknowledging that he dislikes what is going on, hence why we as players can say that something is wrong. This isn’t my core analysis of this dialogue, but once again, it is something I am growing tired of seeing people attack or complain about the creators for writing something that is “bad”, as if the creators did not write in the fact that “this is a bad thing.” You can criticize media and the way things are written, but if you are going to ignore the fact that what you’re claiming the writers are ignoring has already been written, your criticism holds little weight.

Moving on, my main takeaway from this scene was that Satan, a character who has spent so long loathing his anger and how he loses himself during it, was upset by his lack of it. We as the MC got very little dialogue in this scene to push the idea further, but to me it was clear that had the story been given more closure, or the events having more story to include more focus on each character, we could have gotten more of a direct statement from Satan of something like “I always disliked my rage, but without it, I don’t feel like me. I’m who I am because of my rage, it’s not something I should be ashamed of.” If that had been included, I’m sure players would have once again been much happier about this event. However, we shouldn’t need such a direct statement of character development to understand that development has happened. One of the biggest techniques about writing dialogue is the idea that when people talk, they don’t say everything, which I see a lot of fandoms griping about when characters don’t directly express things like trauma or abuse in concrete terms or have conversations where they directly say things like “You did something bad to me and I won’t forgive you for that” (I can’t think of the best example right now because it’s 2 AM but again, I have better examples when talking about the BNHA fandom). Ernest Hemingway and his iceberg technique focused on this idea of people rarely saying what they mean, and it’s a much more realistic approach to dialogue.

I’m not saying the writing of OM is anything near the works of great writers. However, I am saying that we shouldn’t need characters to be so unnatural and direct in their dialogue to be satisfied that development has been had or resolution has been met. It’s not natural for them to outright say so, and as readers we shouldn’t need such explicit confirmation of such things (note: when using “confirmation” I am only talking about instances of development, and not things like confirmed representation of LGBTQ or characters expressing their sexuality. Those are entirely different situations requiring different discussion. Please do not misconstrue my words).

Back to the themes of the choice and accepting oneself, I want to end this on the character that truly got the short end of this event- Levi. Levi was so instantaneously changed to have righteous actions and a similar mindset, and there was very little discussion on it within the game itself. However, although Levi does not express much outside of his “controlled” state in this event, when he talks about his “old lifestyle”, we as players can still get a lot from it:

“Huh? My identity? Was my identity solely based on me being an otaku? I’ve been using anime, manga, and games to hide all this time... Always looking down on others while locking myself away in my own world. But not anymore! Instead of spending all my time and energy on 2D stuff, I’m going to spend it on nurturing my relationships in the real world. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

It does not sound wonderful, because it brings up the questions of “Was there anything actually wrong with Levi’s lifestyle to begin with?” Sure, he was a shut in, and that can’t be healthy, and he had a bad self loathing issue, but, he found happiness in anime, manga, and games. He found happiness in sharing it with you the player. We know this from the main storyline, and so we know that Levi is obviously not truly thinking this, but unfortunately we never get to see a conclusion of his thoughts on this, and he is given no autonomy by the end of the event to comment on his words here. I will agree with people that Levi’s is the most upsetting, partially because it makes my fanfiction writer mind spin into thoughts of him trapped inside his body wanting to keep his things but being forced to throw them out. That is upsetting. But it is not something we should be attacking or getting mad at the writers for, because if you are reading the story right, it can be seen as meant to evoke that reaction. Likely if you are Levi stan, this scene upset you, and you should be unhappy to see him acting this way. You should know something’s wrong, because there was nothing wrong with how Levi was living before. But, the last big theme of the event is the idea of good vs. evil, or right vs. wrong, and as we are playing a game where the main idea is to romance demons, we are always going to be skewed to see the traditional “good” side (of Simeon and the angels) as not truly good, and the “bad” side (of the demons) as not really that bad. We can sympathize with them, we understand and feel upset at seeing them slighted by what is considered “good. I saw one person bring up the idea of this event evoking questions of ethics, and I agree, but I’m better at explaining things through philosophy. This event, especially for Simeon’s character, brings to mind questions of if the Celestial Realm in the game’s universe is actually good and has the best interests of others in mind, or if it is actually deeply flawed by its staunchness to what is considered goodness? (We can see similar discussions in shows like Good Omens.)

To conclude, I just want to finish up on Simeon’s character in this event. I saw many exclamations of “why would he do this? What’s wrong with him?” and I like to present the idea that Simeon is much stronger of a manipulator than we have been viewing him through the lens of “holy angel”. He writes TSL based on the brothers, he likely views them as content to inspire him. He does not care for them as deeply as we as the fandom may be twisting him to be. Overall, I find all these problems with reading and analyzing media to stem from people having trouble interpreting morally gray characters, themes, and actions, and often they claim an author is making something black and white when the author is actually directly telling the reader things are not black and white. OM is such a small fandom in the grand scheme of things, but rather than me rehashing an argument in a much larger fandom, this seemed like a refreshing, safer place to start.

If you read through all this, I do hope you enjoyed. My ask box is always open if you want to hear more of my thoughts.

#obey me #shall we date #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me simeon #obey me angels #obey me devs #poland's thoughts

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