#Let's make drama and tragedy!!!!

[syl-stormblessed]

just read this week’s chapters and i’m one HUNDRED percent hopping on the “Adolin is going to be Odium’s champion” train

[violets-emotionalbreakdown]

Something important for us all to remember is that we've had 3 years to make these characters our own, to internalize them. Fanon is not canon. My Vi is not your Vi is not my mutual's Vi. My Caitlyn is not your Caitlyn. My Jinx is not your Jinx.

We've had 3 years for them to grow and change, to identify with them and project on them, to mold them into what we need them to be.

We've had 3 years with an amazing starting point where we could veer off in so many different directions, not constrained by knowing what comes next.

We're about to know what comes next. All those possibilities, those dreams for what we wanted, are going to be unequivocally canon divergent (except for every fic writer who called Vi being a street/pit fighter, they get to be smug as hell).

There is only one canon.

I've fallen prey to this before, where after a long gap and making a character mine, she didn't react in the new canon to things like my version of her would have. That's ok. It doesn't make it bad storytelling on the actual writer's part. That doesn't make it out of character.

You get me? It doesn't make it bad or ooc if the characters in the new season aren't the way you predicted or want them to be. You will have time afterward to incorporate the new information, possibly re-evaluate your view of them, and make them your own again. (For good this time, bc it's the last season.)

So just watch and let things play out and let them settle before you get upset, ok?

[atsukunaritai]

「つうか、みっちゃんが一番好きだ。」

「俺が死ぬまで一番。」

— Actually, you're number one for me, Micchan.

— You're number one until the day I die.

永遠の昨日　第３・８話　　　　　　　|　　　　　　　Eternal Yesterday ep. 3&8

[cherrysnax]

need to preface this by saying I looooove Felicia sm but god it’s so frustrating that when she pops up she gets to keep her personality, her depth, her everything, even in like her very few appearances but MJ has to get EVERYTHING WIPED AWAY even in the comics??? but literally the only close to faithful adaptions of her are spectacular, some of the 90s show and PART of the raimi movies and it’s only slivers!!!! And usually if mjs around Gwen doesn’t exist so we never the catalyst to her and peters bond, their shared grief that Peter can’t understand at first <\3

[salmoncakepls]

..

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Rita Hayworth (Gilda, Cover Girl)—Absolutely, drop-dead gorgeous. She steals every movie she’s in; she was Fred Astaire’s favorite dance partner, as you can see in clips from their movies [link][link]. Born Margarita Carmen Cansino, Rita's story had its tragedies—her father was awful and had her performing in nightclubs way, way too young; the studio totally remade her look because they were afraid of her hispanic image, putting her through painful treatments and diets; she had a string of failed marriages. But beside all that, I think there's something about Rita that still glows through—an inner beauty that has nothing to do with the studio, or the men who pinned their dreams on her. Rita brings an incandescence to roles that's impossible to replicate, and was truly a great actress in that she could switch from herself—shy Margarita—into a bold and glamorous femme fatale so convincingly everyone fell in love with her as Gilda. She's my favorite movie star, and I think she was a beautiful human through and through—Rita, gorgeous and real and shining bright.

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

" I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Rita Hayworth:

Do you need any other propaganda? Here’s the video.

She was not called "the love goddess" for nothing: beautiful, glamorous, despite playing sexy and provocative roles her inherent shyness somehow also would shine through sometimes, creating this contradictory and incredibly attractive image

Often played "the bad girl" who tempted the male hero away from "the good girl"; but did have roles that broke her out of that mold. She was also the inspiration for Jessica Rabbit. THE pinup girlie.

HELP

She was soo beautiful when she was young and she MAINTAINED that beauty into her later years and I think that old lady glamour is hot. bombastic sex appeal

every line she delivers in gilda is so flirty and passionate or absolutely desolate and it's so good

I just have a lot of feelings about her

[renshengs]

beyond evil (2021) occupies a very interesting space in the larger expanse of crime shows. like, it is a Cop Show. it is undeniably a Cop Show even if the two main characters, who are both cops for very different reasons, are handled with significantly greater awareness and intention than usual.

it is also, impressively, a show that pierces the real ugly rot of 1) police corruption and its overlap with capitalism 2) atrocious real-life lawmaking 3) the poor handling of femicide in stories. i cannot express how abruptly shocked i was to discover that i did not hate the way this show was carrying itself, despite its crime drama genre, narrative about two homoerotic cops, and its murder mystery premise featuring a plot about a serial killer with solely female victims. here is a story that understands its purpose and is so clear-eyed about it that i did in fact tentatively suspend all my wariness about Cop Shows to watch it—and what i got was a scathing response to every serial killer and true crime documentary out there. a narrative that said: enough. enough. look at the way grief rots people from the inside out. look at the way loss ruins lives. do not forget the sufferings of the innocent.

far too many crime dramas possess an incredibly dehumanizing analytical tone to them that goes, “what if these poor women died in brutal gruesome tragic ways? anyway, look at these men and their heroic journey for justice!” it’s why i can’t fucking stand to watch them for the sake of my blood pressure. while beyond evil is not exempt from using such gruesomeness as a part of its horror aspect, the women in this show, particularly the women who were murdered, occupy such a heavy weight over the narrative that it is impossible to reduce them to what they’re usually reduced to: numbers in files, or cold cases. and because the purpose of beyond evil is to examine the ways grief and loss bring about destruction to people’s lives and communities, these women cannot be seen as numbers. they need to be vivid and real; the audience needs to feel their loss as deeply and gnawingly as the townspeople do. as we would in real life.

personally i’m still surprised at myself for liking a Cop Show this much—because the law enforcement sympathy is unavoidable in a cop show—but then i’m also shocked at how immediately this show establishes its awareness of police power. i don’t mean it gives a passing nod, like a brief disclaimer. i mean that you watch until the end and you’re like: oh! the entire fucking show is about police power and its consequences! this entire goddamn show is about cops’ potential for harm and how it destroys lives! the main character only ever became a cop out of desperation because he realized it would protect him from suffering further at the hands of the police. because he realized it was the only way for him to get access to both the information and the legal power needed to take his own steps to solve his sister’s murder. it’s not radical—it’s a cop show. but it is novel. a cop whose relationship with his own occupation is bitterly resigned at best and traumatic at worst.

this is far from an original thought, but truly i think what makes beyond evil worth watching is that it is so incredibly careful with itself. its meta awareness of its own genre heightens it to a tier above other crime dramas—it knows and rejects voyeuristic perspectives into the lives of people who’ve suffered real loss and tragedy, and so it makes the loss inescapable. every direction you look, someone’s life has been irrevocably altered by the murders you learn about in the story. it gives you no space to push away the murder—no, you need to sit directly in its field of impact. all the fucking time. you are not watching the town suffer, you’re suffering with the town. the story sucks you in and makes you live alongside the rest of them; it's why the first watch hurts so raw. because the story refuses to let you take a true-crime approach. because it refuses to prioritize the narratives of perpetrators over human lives. you are there, and you are hurting.

man. really, if you're going to watch anything, watch this.

[jji-lee]

mark had no idea what had gotten into him. he had already been walking towards the library as he typed out a quick thank you to haechan, maybe he should’ve asked where he got head, to avoid that area, but he had other priorities in mind. he didn’t even realize he was speed walking until he got into the elevator and felt how fast his heart was beating, was he that out of shape?

as he walked up to the library doors he stopped to take a deep breath, fixing his hair, not like he was gonna go up to you anyways.

“um excuse me are you going in?”

he turned to eye the shorter male recognizing him from somewhere,

“oh uh yeah my bad.”

he ducked his head opening the door for the familiar stranger. he entered after him stopping to look around the library. it was exactly how he had imagined it, nerds everywhere. but he had to try his best to fit in, again ruffling his hair a bit and evening out the string on his hoodie. all he had to do was pretend to be interested in books and look around, hopefully catching a glimpse at the check out desk. but somehow he found a way to look as unnatural as possible.

he had been in the library for a total of 5 minutes and he had already dropped 3 books and disturbed at least 6 studying students. he bowed, apologizing for making noise. after all the ruckus, he somehow found his way to the drama-tragedy section, haechan would’ve loved this and- oh there’s the check out desk, he peeked through the shelves trying to see if someone was at the register,

“mark? what are you doing here?”

he quickly got off his tippy toes, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t just trying to spy on someone, of course dropping a book along the way.

you picked the book up handing it to him. mark lee at the library, now you had really seen everything. he threw you a dirty glance once he recognized you, snatching the book from your hand,

“this is a library, i’m obviously just looking for a book y/n, this is the one actually!”

he held up and shook the book in his hand. you let out a laugh,

“romeo and juliet? really?”

he raised his eyebrows looking at the title of the book he held, clearing his throat,

“yes, actually, maybe if you read something like this you’d actually, you know, understand the depth of romance.”

you grabbed the book from him,

“from the sound of it next door you don’t even, you know, understand the depth of romance. so if you’re done being a dumbass i can check you out so we don’t have to keep talking to each other.”

he smirked at you,

“you wanna check me out? didn’t know you were so straight forward. i knew you were dirty when i found out you liked to listen to me fuck through the walls.”

you scrunched your nose at him in disgust,

“who said i liked to listen, you’re just fucking loud, the whole floor can hear you but i’m the only one with the balls to tell you to shut up.”

he smirked again, obviously about to make another stupid remark, but you beat him to it holding the book up and pointing at it.

“before you embarrass yourself more, i meant check you out as in check out the book so you can take it home.”

your free hand reached for the scanner in your back pocket, aiming the red scanning light at his face. a soft beep sound filling the air as you pressed on the button.

no fucking way mark felt his stomach tighten at your words no fucking way you were the mystery girl working here at the library. he licked his lips trying his best to keep his cool,

“uh i’d prefer to be checked out by someone with a little more respect for their customers, is there anyone else that can help me?”

he pretended to look around for another worker. you rolled your eyes at him,

“i’m the only one on shift today, so suck it up markie.”

no fucking way, he knew he’d done a lot of bad shit in his life but he still went to church on sundays sometimes and even donated to cute kitten foundations again sometimes, so how could something this bad be happening to him! there was no way that you could be his sweet juliet.

he followed you as you strolled to the check out desk, getting behind the register before scanning his book. there was no way you could be his juliet, haechan must’ve given him the directions to another library, maybe his juliet was lying about working at the library and telling a little lie just like he was, but then wouldn’t that make her a-

“hellooo? earth to mark i know i’m a pretty sight but i really don’t want to spend any more time with you, give me your ID so i can scan it.”

oh right his id, he dug into his pockets, where did he put that damn ID. you stood behind the desk hand on your hip as you waited, he dug into his jean pockets and into his hoodie pocket, nothing, of course he left his wallet in his dorm. he laughed nervously,

“uh actually on second thought, i don’t really wanna check this book out.”

you raised an eyebrow, confused at his sudden change in demeanor.

“i’m gonna uh, go now, thanks for the help or whatever.”

he quickly shuffled away, looking back at you every few steps, what was wrong with him? you heard a loud slap against the desk table making you flinch,

“romeo and juliet huh, who knew mark lee was a romantic.”

you held up your hand towards the short brunette, eyes focusing back on mark.

“renjun you need to stop sneaking up on me.”

he hummed in response also turning to watch mark awkwardly leave the library.

“you should’ve seen him at the library entrance he was fixing his hair and hyping himself up to enter.”

now you turned to look at renjun, curiosity in your eyes,

“do you think he might have a crush on someone?”

renjun laughed at your question,

“that is literally impossible-”

but then he stopped himself, turning to point at you and nod,

“maybe you’re right! that explains the sudden silence next door!”

you couldn’t believe it. could mark lee have a crush?

you looked down at the book he had left, mind abandoning all thoughts of your neighbor's mystery crush. romeo and juliet huh? wonder what my romeo is doing right now...

𖦹 .ᐣ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ cryptic crush — [13] 10/10

previous — masterlist — next

notes : we all know y/n is hawt, so what will mark now do with this information ououououououou.....

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @dalsosapple , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @miichellehciim , @h-aechanie , @hizhu , @mystverse , @wonwootakemyheart , @ppeachyttae , @jae-n0 , @onlyhyunjin , @alethea-moon , @onyourmark-99 , @sunnystarred , @p-d1ddy , @hisrkive , @flwrs4marklee , @haechskiss , @rutheaflowers , @busy-daydreaming02 , @byeonwooseokabs , @bunniin , @odxrilove , @candied-czennie , @injunnie-lemon , @sunflowerhae , @nosungluv , @222brainrot , @vklve , @aerivrs , @slayhaechan , @aek1ra , @honeynanamin , @roseangelxfuma , @starfilledgaze , @meowtella , @grassbutneo , @hyuck-me

[antimony-medusa]

Honestly though like if you're following Philza you should get used to the fact that since the dawn of him streaming RP people have violently disliked his reaction to any angst beats because like, the cc finds angst rp funny and is also a very giggly guy. And if you're here for drama and tragedy it looks like he's not taking the pain seriously, which is obviously going to be something you don't like seeing. Trust me. We have been here before. I have watched DSMP. There were people saying he didn't take Techno's IRL death seriously enough because he was positive on stream. Like, this is top five things people get mad at cc!phil and his characters for, after "breaks the fourth wall" and "is an imperfect person/parent" and "idk his vibes just grate and I read them as Bad y'know".

I personally think that like the fact that he was repeatedly saying to the eggs that they were gonna get Tubbo back, they'll bring him back with the create wrench cause he cares about create, don't worry it'll all be okay; that was all evidence that the character does care about Tubbo and for heaven's sake, if you want angst, read that as denial and you're fully comfortably in one of the recognized stages of grieving. I was making jokes the day people in my life died, this is also one of the ways people deal with loss. But I also see why that's a POV clash if you wanted a more straightforward depiction of grief and angst? Phil was pretty far from being in tears, which is what some people think was warranted. So like, sure, if you've been watching a specific perspective, Phil's reaction was trivializing. I can see that perspective as well.

It is not fun to see someone calling your POV "vile" and "heartless" and "too selfish to consider other people" and the other delightful stuff that I just saw on a scroll through the tag, but like, that's just POV clash, you gotta let people have their own opinions and block the neg tags and maybe block people who are being really loud. Sincerely, it does nobody any good to go beefing about people being mean about your favourite cubito. Post careful lore exploration on your own blog if you want but doing replies, sending anons, all of that is the way down which A Bad Time lies. Sincerely like, this has happened before, this will happen again, just go listen to good music or something and ignore it.

[burningcheese-merchant]

A Thought About Burning Spice Cookie

I was kind of just going about my business today when I had a sort of... revelation, I guess? About Burning Spice. Looking back, I'm not really sure why it took me so long to think of this, but I like to live by the ideal "the best time was then, the second best time is now", so here we go.

Burning Spice was once the Herald of Change (or History, in the original Korean text). He was said to have fought for and defended fledgling civilizations in the distant past, protecting people and helping them in dark times. His throne decor even says he used to let people into his palace and allow them to engage in honest discussion with him about their problems, after which he'd get up and go out and do something about those problems. He sounded like a pretty swell guy... until he got bored with everything and went insane, of course. But here's the thing.

I think I understand why he ended up this way.

To put it as vaguely as possible, I do stuff in real life that may or may not have something to do with history as a subject. And I will gladly tell you all point-blank: history is fucking horrible. History is bleak. History is dark and cruel. The more you dive into it, the more it appears to you as a joke without a punchline. History is a drama, a tragedy, and a big fucking farce all at the same time.

Of course Burning Spice got tired of it. I get tired of it sometimes. Because sometimes, all history ever seems to be is a bunch of delinquents writing "I'm a bad kid" on the chalkboard repeatedly forever and ever. Just a bunch of bad people hurting each other for reasons that'll only come across as stupid long after they've all died at each other's hands. I'm sure Burning Spice started to think "what's even the point of building anything if someone is just going to come tear it down?" And it's hard to not think that when that's what ALWAYS happens. That's what history is a lot of the time. Brutal competition. A war of all against all.

The cure to the cynicism and melancholy history can and will inflict on you, at least in my opinion, is... to stop dwelling on it, honestly. At the end of the day, you have to remember that the past is gone. What's done is done. Things happen and sometimes, you can't do anything about it. You can't go back and save Lincoln from being assassinated. You can't go back and stop the Holocaust. You can't go back and save the world from all those wars and famines and disease epidemics. History both changes constantly and is unchanging at the same time. You have to make peace with what you cannot change - the past - and move forward, because time won't wait for you. We have to remember these things, these dark times; we all have a duty to do so, for the sake of those that came before us and those that will come after. But we also have to remember to live for the sake of those around us here and now. It is the present that shapes the world the most. It is in the present that we find true happiness. Not in the yellowed pages of old textbooks about the past and not in the pie-in-the-sky fever dreams we have about the future.

I think that's what fucked Burning Spice over. He forgot to live in the present. He was so focused on bringing about change, so absorbed in giving everything he had to everyone else, so invested in preserving the past and paving the way for the future, that he started losing sight of what was already there in front of him. His friends. His people. Too much time spent on the bigger picture and not enough spent on the tiny details that don't seem important at first glance, but when you look closer, you realize are what made the whole, entire picture as big as it is in the first place. He, like many do, like I do, began to see how cyclical and futile history can really be. He just saw people looking for reasons to hurt one another and destroy anything good they'd built together. Civilizations that were once grand and prosperous falling to anarchy. Clans with close ties turning against one another. Friend groups fracturing. All this hard work, undone, over and over again. And for what? What did they do any of this for? What did HE do any of this for?

I think his descent into villainy was slow, but sure. A little piece of his soul crumbling to dust with every person he felt like he failed because whatever great change he enacted was undone and everyone else suffered for it. And no one was ever really there to help steer him back onto the right path. Not his friends, not his family, not his people at large. Whether this was because they didn't know he was hurting like this (he seems like the type to keep things close to the chest anyway), they didn't know how to help or comfort him, or they didn't care, ultimately does not matter; regardless, it boils down to Burning Spice never being reminded to find solace in those around him right now, instead of constantly fretting over those before or after.

Maybe if he did remember, if he paid more attention to what IS and not what WAS or what WILL BE, he could've been saved. If he'd let Shadow Milk tell him more about his books and the little puppets he liked to craft. If he listened to Eternal Sugar play her harp more. If he sat and played a few more rounds of Go with Mystic Flour. If he had a friendly sparring match or two extra with Silent Salt. If he ate and drank and danced with his fellow spices like he probably used to like doing. If he stopped thinking he always had to be this larger-than-life figure who lorded over and protected society, and just let himself breathe and be a normal, happy person. It wouldn't make the ultimate folly of history sting any less, but he could have at least made peace with it and continued onward in spite of it.

But he didn't. He succumbed to history's poison, like so many have and so many will. And in an ironic twist of fate, which you will also often find throughout history, the tide of change swallowed him whole and drowned him. He let the failures of yesterday color his perception of today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. More and more people came across to him as bad actors until the whole world was just a devil's stage play, and it was being performed at his expense. Hard work and self-sacrifice lost their flavor. He tried to keep going, tried to keep pushing. Maybe he knew what was happening to him on some level and fought desperately to save himself. Put duct tape over the cracks in a dam, because that's probably all it amounted to, because the wisdom he needed didn't exist within him at that time and he didn't/couldn't find it anywhere else. Pushed forward even when he couldn't see where he was going anymore. Until every muscle in his body hurt. Until he'd lived long enough to see everything he ever lived and worked for be taken apart for scrap, for a vendetta, for shits and giggles.

Until he started looking at those bandits and warlords and terrorists he used to help put away and thinking... "hey. Maybe they're seeing something I'm not. If nothing else at all, they sure look like they're having fun. Way more than I am right now." Until he gave in to despair and grew bitter, and thought "well, if nothing I do really matters, if destroying it all is what makes people happy, then maybe I should give it a shot."

And then he became a bandit, a warlord, a terrorist. He turned into all those people he hated and continues to hate today. He cut out the middle-man and just ended lives before they could begin. Razed civilizations to the ground because that was what was going to happen anyway, whether it be by his hand or someone else's. What does it even matter? What does anything matter? This is all history is. Pain and suffering. He's only doing what's natural. He's solving problems before they can even occur, really. He's doing everyone a REAL favor. Destruction truly is the only way.

The best way to make the world a better place is to make the lives of those around you better first. Even just helping the one person makes a difference in its own way. Think less about making history by winning a war or toppling a regime and more about making history in an old person's life by helping them up when they fall down. Or making history in a dog's life by volunteering at an animal shelter. Or making history in your friends' lives by having a fun day with them that they'll remember and cherish even on their deathbeds. Change doesn't have to be grand. It doesn't need to be an all-consuming tide that rises above the tallest buildings. It can just be gentle waves and seafoam, washing over the sand and kissing one's feet. That's enough, more often than not. More than one might realize.

Maybe if somebody made sure Burning Spice kept this in mind, he wouldn't have turned into a Beast in the end.

TL;DR: History is shit. Him losing it makes perfect sense. It probably would've happened to me, too. Somebody should've been there to keep him grounded. Everyone failed him and he failed himself. Remember to live in the present. YO SOCRATES, IT'S A FUCKING COOKIE

[hollowdeath]

Oh hello, I just wanted to tell you that what you wrote is amazing! I read it over and over and couldn't stop reading. You are soooo amazing! *((Ugly crying😭❤️))*

And umm.. I would like to share about the imagination in my head about Dark Harry Potter. He joins the Lord Voldemort and betrayed all his friends. When the war ended, the Lord's side Voldemort wins. Everything is in chaos but Harry ignores it all because he only cares about the reader, his old girlfriend. (Harry still loves the reader even though the reader hates Harry.) He might have requested that the Lord Voldemort gave the reader as a reward to him after the war. Something like that, and ummm, a drama that is both bitter and sad and angry at the same time full of longing for each other? A rough and sad lovemaking? 🥺

hi! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: dark!harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: harry's all-consuming anger successfully tempts him to join voldemort in the war, sending you, his girlfriend, away in an attempt to keep you safe. years later he asks for your return, and is met with bitterness and rage as you struggle to navigate your feelings for each other in a post-war world.

c/w: smut!!! angst!! slow burn! mentions/threats of weapons, violence, abuse, and death/murder. smut is all the way at the end (grinding, oral, penetration, submissive!harry & dominant!reader) lightly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate

word count: 12.6k

a/n: this is giving me manacled x star wars and i love it lol, so so so much fun to write. i tried to make the reader more angst-y and dominant than normal, so if you like this please let me know! sorry if the plot doesn't make much sense. i also started school this week so please be patient with me! going to try and start posting shorter blurbs/headcanons between requests <3

harry was standing at a window in the lord's manor, watching the street below him as people sulked aimlessly by. it was a typical, gloomy day, the clouds gathering heavily above. it had been raining for weeks, maybe even months at this point, and it was beginning to cast a permanent gray shadow across the city. not even the weather could escape the tragedies of the war.

though harry chose to not dwell on the war, he felt its lingering effects. even from his lofty spot in the comfort of the lord's castle, which he barely left anymore. its walls had become harry's second skin. so long as he had everything delivered to him whenever he desired, it was disgusting to him to even think of stepping outside.

yet still, harry could see the abandoned and damaged shops just outside the lord's gates lining the courtyard along the cobblestone streets. the burnt remains of what once was. the sunken-in faces of the remaining people in the city. the lack of light, the lack of life, the lack of magic.

there's a part of harry, a weak cry from deep inside his repressed past, that feels bad. he was once a young wizard with bright eyes walking the streets of these same shops. he once enjoyed the sounds of shared happiness, and found solace in the fact that despite his lack of, there would always be joy in the world around him.

however, as harry grew older, and the circumstances around him shifted, he found himself getting angrier more often. not just on a weekly basis over small interactions or mistakes, but all the time, from the moment he was awoken by his nightmares to the moment he fell back into them. harry simply had no room inside of him left for anything else. it was just anger. pure, unbridled anger that only caused annoyance at first, then small outbursts of irritation after a while, and, eventually, he couldn't look at anyone or anything without wanting to physically destroy it for no reason other than he was just angry.

harry was angry at the world for having magic in it in the first place. he hated the divide it caused between muggles and non-muggles, pure bloods and half bloods. he was angry that divide is what took his parents from him before he could even properly know them. he was angry he had to grow up in abuse and neglect under the guise of 'safety'. he was angry he never received an apology, an admittance of guilt, not even a hint of closure for the past that was still controlling his present.

the boy who used to risk his life to save hogwarts and the students inside of it would eventually be the same one to let them fall.

when voldemort came back, and harry's anger was at its worst, he knew there was a connection. he didn't know about horcruxes yet and he certainly didn't know he was one. and yet he knew, somewhere deep inside him again, that it wasn't a coincidence. there was a reason his anger was consuming him, and the reason was voldemort.

after cedric's death, harry had begun to spiral. the nightmares were worse than before, he felt deathly paranoid constantly, and couldn't escape the intruding memories of the graveyard. though harry had managed well enough afterwards, still suppressing his rage, he couldn't hide the change in his personality from those closest to him. ron and hermione were the first to bring it up, but, of course, harry had snapped and told them to mind the business that pays them. despite his resistance, they tried until the very end to help their best friend see through his anger, to remember what was right and wrong.

however, once sirius was dead, it was all over.

harry had simply lost any hope that was left within him. watching sirius fall through the veil, his eyes lifeless and cold, was like watching harry himself die. he didn't think he could get any lower, and then he watched the only family he had left be cursed just within his reach.

harry was never the same after that. when he sat in bed late at night staring at the marauders map in his lap, he thought about how much he hated this life that's been made for him. the boy who lived, the scape goat, the hero, our only hope. it was crushing. harry was just a boy. he wanted to live a normal life.

but he knew he never could. not after tom riddle, not after cedric, not after sirius. even if everything went away tomorrow and harry could just attend his classes and be with his friends, nothing would change. he would still be alone, he would still be angry, and he would still suffer from his traumas. what was the point in fighting for good or living to see the end when you would always end up alone?

except, harry wasn't alone, really. he had you.

if there was one thing in this lifetime, one thing throughout this entire war that could have saved harry, it was you.

you and harry had been classmates for a year or so before really getting to know each other, and started dating not long after. when you were around, harry knew there was something worth fighting for. though he may feel angry and everything and everyone and everything everyone said, harry could never truly be mad with you. it's like when you looked at him the anger was muted, numb, deep inside him, and as soon as someone would interrupt it was bubbling at the surface again.

you were worried about harry, of course, and saw the effects his anger had on his relationships with everyone else around him. besides you.

he remembers you clearly, still to this day, and just how upset you were anytime he lashed out. if he'd felt anything other than anger at that time, it would've been guilt. guilt for hurting you, for scaring you. guilt, but not guilty enough to stop.

the anger was stronger.

even when you asked him, begged him, please, harry, please stop letting your anger win, and even when he promised, swore on his own grave, that he would try harder to stop for you, he never did.

harry was beyond angry. he was spiteful. all he had ever been was kind, a pushover who gave everyone the respect he was never graced with. he's saved strangers who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. he's lost his family in their sacrifice for the greater good that now rested upon harry's 16 year old shoulders.

he was beginning to think the fight wasn't worth it.

not only did the fight for good no longer seem worthy to harry, the fight against it only seemed to become more enticing. why should harry continue to risk his life and sanity when there would always be fights of blood purity? why should he be the hero everyone else has always wanted him to be?

for a long time, the answer was you. you were reason enough for harry to keep fighting, to keep his anger under control. when he looked at you things made sense for just a moment, his suffering was worth it to see you alive and well. until it wasn't.

everyone has a breaking point, and harry felt like he had finally reached his. as the war had geared up to a point of no return, harry had to make a decision. he had always assumed his decision was already made for him since birth, but he soon realized he never actually had to follow this path set for him in the first place. he was free to do as he pleased. he wasn't dumbledore, he wasn't his parents, he wasn't even the hero everyone thought he was. he was angry. he was spiteful.

worse than that, harry was vengeful.

so, when he met voldemort in the woods during the battle of hogwarts to accept his death, harry instead offered him a proposal the dark lord simply couldn't refuse. harry potter, his living horcrux, would become his successor upon his death. harry would fight with and for voldemort, training to become the most powerful dark wizard in history, and to finally let tom riddle rest well knowing the world was in just as dark, evil hands as his own.

though voldemort was skeptical at first, naturally, as harry expected him to be, he could eventually see the darkness within harry nearly consuming him whole. he was as serious as death itself. he no longer had the desire within him to continue fighting for, what he saw as, a lost cause. voldemort was rather pleased with this news, though never expected harry to come around like he did. he hadn't even considered it, really. but who was he to deny his own successor?

upon harry's return to hogwarts with voldemort and his death eaters in tow, every single person who watched was stunned into silence. even mcgonagall, who had been instructing and encouraging the students all night in their fight, had become speechless and teary eyed at the sight. ron had to catch hermione, who nearly fell to the floor.

but nobody was as upset as you were.

you had already been sobbing watching harry walk off into the woods towards his own death thinking you would never see him alive again. only to watch him emerge from the same treeline with the enemy by his side. it's like you got kicked in the gut. you would've almost rather never seen harry again.

"harry!" you had screamed in a broken voice as he crossed the bridge, voldemort's snake slithering at his feet. you were running to him, breaking through the multiple arms that tried to hold you back.

voldemort tried to raise his wand to you, but harry had stopped him, telling him to let him handle it. he was suspicious at first, still not fully trusting harry's intentions just yet, but was reassured by the sinister look in his eyes.

harry looked at you. he remembers feeling a twinge of that same guilt from before, the tiniest spark of hope deep within his rage. he really did love you, at least at some point he did. you would've made all of this worth it, you would've been the reason to keep going. but not even you were reason enough anymore. for so long he had been ready to take his revenge on the world that failed him.

"harry, what are you doing?" you had asked him, voice shaking. you were almost whispering, your eyes nervously glancing towards voldemort every other second in fear for your safety. harry grabbed your hands but you pulled them back, a look of disgust coming across your face.

"come with me." harry had told you. your look of disgusted transformed into shock, anger, confusion, and guilt. there were mumblings coming from the crowd of students behind you. "what?" you had asked, nearly breathless at this point, your eyes searching him for answers.

"come with me, [y/n]. i want you by my side as i become the most powerful dark lord in the world." harry explained, taking steps towards you with an excited grin on his face, his eyes still dark with corruption. you were still in shock when he grabbed for your hands. he kissed your knuckles softly with a quiet, "i love you,"

he had meant it, but not like he used to.

it took a few moments of silence and some tense eye contact before you pulled your hands away, letting the tears fall again as you attempted to gather your words. "you can't do this, harry. i will never join the dark lord. you know this isn't right, why are you doing this? why? why?" you're practically begging for an answer as harry looked away, an irritated expression on his face, clenching his jaw together. your hands reached for his shirt and jacket, trying to shake some sense into him as you grasped them tightly and pulled him closer.

"don't you love me?" you had asked him in the most heartbreaking, soul crushing voice. your words were weak, but your sentiment was palpable. you were bloody, dirty, covered in scars from fighting, holding harry close to you as you begged him with wide eyes. not too much earlier in the year he would've folded immediately looking at you, so innocent and desperate, his last bit of hope in the world.

but it was already far too late.

"take her to azkaban," harry had announced, angling his head back to the deatheaters behind him, keeping his eyes locked with yours. your grip on his clothes loosened and shocked gasps came from the crowd. harry looked at voldemort, who was a bit puzzled by the situation, but backed up harry's real nonetheless. "you heard the boy," he snapped towards the men behind him.

the deatheaters walked towards you as you stepped away from harry. "no, no, no, stop!" you were screaming, trying to back away from them, but they had grabbed your arms aggressively and began dragging you towards the bridge. "[y/n]!" a few students had shouted, running towards you before their attempts were blocked by a wave of voldemort's wand. the students fell to the ground, watching helplessly as you continued to fight your way out of the deatheaters' grasps. harry stood still, emotionless, completely stoic as he heard your desperate wails and calls for his name disappear into the woods behind him.

the rest of that night or day or whatever it was has since been completely blocked out of harry's mind, forever. his rage had reached a level he didn't know was possible. all he could recall anymore is the blood, the screaming, the running, and the light of his wand in his hand. many students and professors died during that battle at his hand, along with voldemort's and the deatheaters'. the castle was then burned to the ground, signifying the end of the battle. hogwarts had never stood a chance.

and, now, harry stands in the dark lord's manor, staring at the abandoned buildings lining his street, and he's thinking of you.

he often wondered how life would have been if you had joined him that day. though his years since have been packed with death, fights, destruction, and chaos, there were moments alone or in peril where you crossed his mind like a gentle breeze. a simpler part of his past, a light in his darkness. your soft, kind eyes, wide with shock as you back away from him, fixated on the deatheaters coming to collect you. your sweet, melodic voice screaming and breaking as you were dragged away, fighting for your freedom. harry could remember the moment perfectly despite everything else in his life being a blur.

he wonders how you would have filled the role as his partner in crime after choosing him. two dark lords unstoppable against the forces of the wizarding world, fighting 'good' and spreading evil just as he had been this whole time. would you have succumbed easily to the temptation? would you be as dark as harry was? could you maybe even be darker?

but harry knew it was a fruitless endeavor from the beginning. he had wanted to ask you anyways, to at least give you a chance to make the decision to be with him, even if he already knew what your response would be. harry was a bit let down at first, hoping maybe there was enough love between you to push morals aside, but he knew he would never be that lucky. part of why he fell in love with you way before his anger began was your commitment and dedication to what you believed was right. that same trait would be the driving force behind his decision to lock you away.

harry knew you. and he knew you wouldn't stop fighting until your body gave out, and maybe even after that. he may have lost you by sending you to azkaban for the foreseeable future of the war, but he'd rather know you were safe somewhere solitary than spend his years wondering where your dead body had been rotting into the dirt all this time. though azkaban was desolate, dark, isolated, and torturous, it allowed harry to sleep at night thinking of your still-beating heart resting safely behind those impenetrable walls.

lately his nights had become more restless, though, as the thought of you still residing in azkaban began to sit with him. he didn't feel guilt, really, he knew it was what was ultimately best for you. but he did miss you.

after the war had died down and voldemort took his place as the rightful dark lord of the world, harry's anger began to subside for the first time in years. rather than rage fueling his insatiable desire to destroy, he felt incredibly numb and disengaged with everything around him. the desolate streets and grim sky and abandoned city outside the windows began to fit his mental state more and more. for the first time since he was a teenager, harry could see past the anger.

and all he wanted was you.

so, harry had reached out to the dark lord, who spent most of his time at his new ministry castle across the country from the old manor he let harry watch over. they communicated every so often, checking in on business and social matters, but otherwise never had to meet in person. 

harry sent him a letter asking for your release and direct delivery to his household, barring from reason. he felt after the war he had lead with and for voldemort, he owed harry a singular favor all these years later.

it only took 2 days for a confirmation letter to be sent back to harry, signed by voldemort himself, dating your arrival for the next day.

harry had his house elf, jinx, make up your room, asking her to be sure it was comfortable and clean before your delivery tomorrow afternoon, and to also provide plenty of options for dinner.

harry spent all night thinking about you, wondering what you'd look like after all this time. how similar or different you would be from what he remembers. how you'd react to seeing him. he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't react well, likely needing an extended period of alone time to adjust being here before he'd ever get a civil moment with you. but he was up for the challenge, otherwise he'd never ask for your return in the first place. he was releasing his anger, and instead building his patience, if not just to hold you one more time.

there was a delicious smell filling the mansion as the clock drew nearer to your arrival. harry was dressed better than he had been in years, and had jinx make the usually desolate looking building feel warm and inviting. fireplaces roaring, warm lamps flooding the hallways, and the grand dining table set to perfection for 2 particular guests.

harry didn't want to make it too obvious, but it was hard for him to hide how excited he was to see you again. even if you were different, even if you hated him, all he wanted was to see you in person, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since the day you were dragged away at his command.

once the hour was upon him, harry could hear footsteps and voices on the second floor. his heart leaped, setting down his glass of wine before heading for the stairs.

"let go of me, let go of me," a strained voice was crying down the hall, the sounds of a struggle coming from harry's left. he saw two house elves, rather squat and bulky, holding onto the arms of a frail body covered in a simple striped prison dress.

one elf turned to harry and gave him a devilish grin, "ah, there's the man himself!" he growled, his partner turning as well. "sorry we were late, mr. potter, someone here wasn't too keen on leaving azkaban, for some reason," he apologizes, pulling at the arm he's holding.

you slowly turn your head and stop struggling, your eyes wide with fear and mouth dropped open. "harry?" you whispered to yourself, your knees nearly giving out beneath you before the elves aggressively pulled you back up.

the first elf groans, rolling his eyes at you. "where can we put her, huh?" he asks, his tone impatient. harry pulls a few gold coins out of his pocket and hands them over to both of the elves. "right here is just fine. thank you, boys," he tells them.

the elves happily accept the tips and drop you to the ground, quickly disappearing in a flash.

you're left heavily breathing on the floor of the hall, sniffling and groaning in pain before diverting your attention to harry. your eyes were still wide, your eyebrows creased in confusion as you tried to move yourself further away from him on your hands and knees.

harry gave you your space, but watched intently as you nervously increased the distance between both of you. your hair was long, tangled, greasy, and falling around you like a curtain. you were smaller than he remembered, your eyes sunken in and cheeks more hollowed than before. you were pale, and visibly dirty. the soles of your feet were nearly black.

harry felt a pain in his stomach, his blood pressure rising imagining how you lived inside the walls of the prison. he couldn't identify the feeling. it was different from anger, but it wasn't far off.

as you continued to back up, your eyes shifted to a widow on your right. you slowly gained the energy to lift yourself and reach for the window, throwing it open before attempting to stick your hand out.

your hand hit the open window like you had never moved the glass barrier. you continued trying to stick your hand and head out, hitting at the invisible barrier with all your strength, making frustrated sounds.

"there's a spell on the house, love. you can't leave, just for now, until we can work things out," harry tried to explain gently as you continued trying to escape. he took a step towards you and you stepped away, leaning on the wall for support as you began to cry harder.

"get away from me, get away, what the fuck, what the fuck is happening," you tried to shout at him, your faced turned away and other arm putting distance between you and harry. you were gasping for air, your voice stressed and broken, shaking your head as you tried to continue backing up into the wall.

harry still attempted to give you your space. he hated to see you like this. you were so defensive and scared of everything going on around you. he wanted to give you time to calm down, but felt you needed to know what was going on.

"[y/n]," harry said, causing your head to snap towards him with curious eyes. your arm lowered slightly, your knees still weak beneath you. "listen to me, okay? just for a second," harry tried to ask kindly. he hadn't realized just how long it had been since he talked to someone this gently.

you continued to stand defensively, your eyes scanning harry up and down nervously as your breathing slowly started to still.

harry sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before turning his attention to you again. "i know this is a lot, and i know it's confusing," he starts, his voice unexpectedly shaky. "but i asked voldemort, and i had you released from azkaban. i figured you may like a warm place to stay, so i had you brought here,"

you still looked confused for a moment before you narrowed your eyes, your arm coming up once again to defend yourself. "what are you talking about? where are we?" you asked harry suspiciously, still scanning him from head to toe.

"my manor. well, the lord's manor, but, essentially mine," harry says a bit awkwardly. you gave him a look of disgust, leaning further into the wall for support. "why would i want to be here? with you?" you practically spat at him with hatred in your eyes. harry was unaffected.

"i know you don't. but there's nowhere else to go. i promise." harry tells you solemnly. your eyes widen a bit again, a flash of fear coming across your face, but the anger quickly returns.

"i'd rather live in rubble than prop my feet up in the dark lord's manor," you say sharply, taking a step towards him in attempt to intimidate him. though you weren't much shorter than harry, you were weak, and tired, and he wasn't necessarily afraid of your threats.

he took a step back anyways, giving you more space. "look," he says, his eyes turning to the floor before he can steady his breathing and reply. "it's just for now. if you really don't want to stay, i won't make you." he says softly before returning his eyes to yours. they're not as bright as he remembers them in his dreams about you.

"but," he says, causing your jaw to clench. "you will stay until you're well again. and it's not up for debate." harry tells you firmly, his tone not as gentle as before.

you swallow harshly, your stomach growling audibly as the smell of the food downstairs begins to settle into your senses.

harry notices this and smirks to himself before quickly returning to a neutral state. "now," he announces, straightening out his blazer. "until the food is ready, there's a room made up for you just down this hall and to your left. it has a bathroom, and clothes. take all the time you need." he says before promptly turning on his heels and heading downstairs, his heart still racing from his encounter with you.

sitting in the living room watching the fireplace in front of him, harry eventually hears the door of your new bedroom click open and swiftly close. not long after he can hear the plumbing rumble as you take your first shower. he smiles at the fact that you're finally in his life once more, even if the circumstances were completely unusual.

harry's nearly concerned and wanting to send jinx to check on you after 2 hours of running water before it stops, the sound of the bathroom fan taking its place. harry's relieved.

"jinx, could tell our guest the foods ready," harry tells the elf as she brings the last tray from the kitchen to the dining room. she nods to herself, shuffling up the stairs sluggishly.

harry's pouring another glass of wine in the kitchen and decides to pour you one as well. on his way into the dining room, he sees you standing in the entryway. you're dressed in a large jumper, oversized pajamas bottoms, and your hair is still rather wet plopped into a bun on top of your head. your skin is rubbed raw, your cheeks still flushed pink as you analyze the table full of food in front of you.

harry smiles at your shocked gaze, your stomach growling again as he tries to hand you your glass of wine. you turn your nose at him, taking a step back. he smiles curtly and heads to his seat, setting your glass with his.

"figured you might be hungry," harry says as he sits down, his plate made for him already. he looks at you, arms still crossed, nose turned away, but eyes peeking at the endless food at your disposal. he can tell you're trying to keep your guard up, but your stomach hasn't stopped rumbling since you came downstairs.

he gestures to your chair just across from him, a plate made for you as well. you look at him, your eyes curious but expression still tight. you carefully take a step closer to the table, but you're still weary.

harry gives you a sympathetic smile. "after tonight you can have any meal you want in your solitude. i just thought i'd be nice and host my guest for the first night," he tells you, catching your gaze.

your curious look quickly turns to one of anger. "i'm not your guest. i'm practically a prisoner again." you hiss, your eyes boring into his with contempt. harry can sense the rage building inside of you. he's familiar with the feeling.

though you were different in so many ways, your dull eyes and lifeless voice, you were also similar in your determined attitude. you had always been the type to stand up and take charge, which harry completely admired and was impressed by. he found your beauty to be most potent in your strong will and cunning mind.

he admired you for just a moment, looking down at him with enough hatred to send shivers over his body. you looked so young, your skin supple and smooth under the light of the candles and fireplace, your hair falling loosely to frame your furrowed brow. you were just as pretty as he remembered, even if your expression always contained a hint of sadness and fear around him.

harry simply smiles softly, sitting back in his chair. "i prefer guest," he says teasingly. you suddenly snap at him, grabbing for his steak knife and pushing your arm to his neck against the back of the chair, holding the point of the knife to the side of his neck.

if looks could kill, the knife would've been unnecessary. your eyes were nearly black as you shakily push against harry's throat. "let me out of here now or i swear, harry," your voice cracks saying his name. "i swear i'll fucking kill you," you spit, leaning further into your grasp him on, your jaw clenched tightly.

harry, to your surprise, just chuckles to himself, not even struggling to breathe as he looks up at you deviously. your eyes widen just before you feel your arms start to move for you, as well as your legs. your neck is strained as well, an invisible force pushing you away from harry as the knife drops from your hand.

you're suddenly released from the mysterious grasp, and you choke out a breath, looking back at harry. he's smirking, but trying not to let you see as his pointed hand lowers from you. he fixes his shirt and chair, gesturing again to your seat across from him. "as thrilling as that was, love, not yet. i'd like you to stay here for at least a month before i consider placing you elsewhere." harry states, picking his knife back up to place on the table.

you stare at harry incredulously. "a month?" you ask, your face turning red again. you take another step towards him but you falter in fear of him using the same force as before to stop you. you stumble as your mind races to gather your thoughts. "how…you…i'm not staying here for a month! this is insanity! how could you send me away like that and just bring me back like it was nothing? a shower and a plate of food and suddenly those 5 years in azkaban never happened?"

you're now shouting at harry with a broken voice, your emotions on high as the tears threaten to fall again. harry watches you, just watches, and simply gestures to your chair again. "just join me," he insists.

you go to yell again, but harry sternly interrupts. "we can discuss this another time. please. sit down." he commands from you.

your mask drops for a moment, a look of fear crossing your face before diverting your eyes away completely to your chair. your stomach growls again, your hand covering it to hide the sound.

it takes a few moments until you slowly make your way to sit down, glancing at harry before taking your seat. harry begins eating silently, and, not long after, you're digging into your first real plate of food in years.

harry can't help but smile to himself subtly watching you indulge yourself for a moment, the mask slipping again as you gratefully shovel spoonfuls of food into your mouth with a sigh of relief. he was glad you were eating, even if he had to put up a bit of a fight to convince you.

as harry finishes up, you're still making your way through your second plate. he stands, grabbing your attention and making you curl back into your seat. "jinx," he calls out before sipping the last of his wine. jinx comes to the table and grabs harry's glass and plate, turning to take them to the kitchen. 

"[y/n], this is jinx," harry motions to the elf, who gives you a warm smile. you return the smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "if you ever need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask her. she lives to serve," harry tells you proudly, earning a slight look of disgust from you before returning a smile at jinx.

"this was a lovely dinner, ms. jinx, thank you so much, truly," you thank her honestly. she bows to you slightly before continuing her way through the doors to the kitchen.

you shoot harry a glare. "the harry i knew would've never kept a house elf," you say, your words dripping with disdain. harry ignores your statement, turning to the stairs before ascending them.

he leaves you alone at the dining table, closing himself off in the master bedroom for the night. just as he's finishing up brushing his teeth, he hears your door click shut. that night he fell asleep feeling more reassured than he had in years knowing the pretty girl he couldn't keep his mind off of was asleep just down the hall from him.

it had been a few weeks since harry moved you in, and he rarely ended up seeing you in the mansion. you were often locked away in your room, or taking showers, and harry only ever saw you when you were finishing up a meal with jinx.

you had become quite close with her, it seems, which harry found sweet. he was worried at first that you may be using jinx as a way to find an escape from the house, but after a while without incident, harry realized how silly the idea was. you truly could connect with anyone.

one of the only other times he saw you, though, was when he passed by the open library one night. harry had been restless, thinking about his past in depth, feeling emotions he couldn't place, and decided to watch the sunrise to clear his head. he took a quick glance through the doors before spotting you curled up on one of the couches, a book in hand, fast asleep beside a warm lamp.

harry stopped, taking a moment to admire you from afar. you had gained some weight back being here, which harry loved to see. your cheeks were full and rounded, your hands not as frail, and the color was coming back to your skin. your hair looked impossibly soft under the light, sprawled everywhere around your angelic, sleeping face. harry couldn't help the cheesy smile that overcame his face. he was just happy that you were okay.

outside of that, harry spent most of his time alone, thinking about you. you hadn't reached out to him yet, which he expected, but was surprised when a month came and went and you still didn't confront him. he hadn't made his decision just yet, so he didn't have an answer for you even if you had asked him. he saw you were doing better, but still wasn't confident in letting you go. not just for selfish reasons, of course, but he wanted to be sure you were equipped enough to live on your own.

but, harry had to admit, his heart raced when he heard your soft footsteps pass his door to the stairs. his mind went blank seeing your figure standing in the dining room with jinx, chatting over a plate of snacks together. his blood ran cold when he heard your soft giggle from somewhere in the mansion. like a beautiful ghost haunting his past.

harry knew even before he sent his letter to voldemort that his feelings for you had never truly gone away. deep under his rage, his unforgiving heart, his cold blooded nature, his love for you had always remained. but he was learning to accept your departure if you chose to do so. a final goodbye to the most beautiful part of his unsightly life. harry wasn't sure he could handle the idea.

he was struggling with his thoughts, the constant back and forth he was feeling about you. at first harry was sleeping better with you there knowing you were safe, but now he stayed up late worrying himself sick over the decisions he had to make now that you were actually there.

sitting in bed, staring at the rising sun through his window, harry's mind was exhausting him. he hadn't slept all night and could feel the effects setting in. slowly, he stood from the bed and slipped on his house shoes along with his robe. he quietly leaves his room to not disturb you so early just down the hall.

he walks to the opposite end of the hall towards the balcony, and takes his usual seat facing the sunrise.

harry contemplates here most mornings, but never comes to any radical conclusions. he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's best for you anymore. he knows he selfishly wants you all to himself still, but also knows you deserve to live the life you want no matter what his opinion is. it's the same conversation with himself every time, and it leaves him confused and upset for keeping you here like he is. even if his heart is in the right place.

his thoughts are interrupted by jinx, who offers harry a cup of tea. he thanks her, but quickly calls her back to ask a question. "jinx, um…[y/n], how is she doing?" he asks.

jinx, a quiet house elf, gives harry a smile, and pats his shoulder. her smile is warm and reassuring, as well as her hand. as she walks off, harry smiles to himself a bit. he's not completely satisfied with the answer, but he takes what he can get.

finishing his cup of tea with the sun shining over the horizon, harry turns to head inside before being met with the sight of you standing at the open doorway of the balcony. 

you're dressed in a simple long sleeve pajama shirt along with comfortable pants, your arms crossed as the morning chill sets into the air. harry's a bit startled at first, but gives you a polite smile, diverting his eyes and walking around you to leave you be.

"harry," you said softly, turning to him.

harry's heart dropped, but turned to you promptly with eager eyes. the way you said his name, your soft voice, he was already so captivated by you.

"can we talk?"

now harry was worried. this is what he's been afraid of since you got here. he's not ready to answer you. he doesn't know what he's going to say when you desperately ask him to leave and never come back.

"of course," he says calmly, gesturing to the balcony so you could sit together.

once you've joined him in watching the sun, you two fall into a somewhat comfortable silence as the soft wind whistles past.

"i never thanked you," you said quietly after a while, almost a whisper in the wind. harry looked at you, looking at the sunrise. your face was radiant. you were brilliant in the light of the sun, your hair still impossibly soft and beautiful, falling around you, following the flow of the air. harry was overwhelmed with the beauty your presence held in this moment. "you never had to."

you glanced at harry, studying his expression, before turning back to the sun. "it's also been a month." you state coldly. harry's gaze drops, sighing. "57 days, technically," he mumbles.

a few moments of silence pass again, leaving harry an anxious mess in his seat. he tried to think of a gentle way to let you know he still needed time to decide what to do. a way to tell you without putting his life at risk to your anger.

"well, as much as i hate to say this, you were right," you say, still watching the sunrise in deep thought. harry was shocked by your words, immediately sitting up in his seat to get a better look at your face.

you were stoic, your eyes fixated on the scene out beyond your reach. "what?" harry asked, not believing his own ears. a small smile crept to your lips, the first one he's managed to see himself since you've been here. his heart aches at just the hint of seeing it again.

"don't make me say it again, potter," you try to say threateningly with that small smile, your eyes falling to your lap.

harry is stunned into silence, watching you with careful eyes. "but, you were right. i needed time to be healthy again." you said to him, your back still turned. harry stayed quiet, allowing you to continue. "i was angry with you. i still am. i don't think it'll ever stop," you inform him, the coldness returning to your voice. "but," he was preparing himself for the rejection, the questions, the begging.

"i'd like to stay, if you'll have me," you offer in a slightly embarrassed tone, your face turned the other way.

to say harry was shocked at your request is an understatement. he was expecting you to have a plan to take him out if he had rejected your request to leave yet. he never considered the idea that you might actually want to stay with him.

"i'll have you forever, if you let me," harry responds, a small smile on his face as well. you shoot him a warning look. "not forever. just until i feel well again." you tell him, your voice cold once more. you turn back to the sun, now completely over the horizon. "figured you owe me that much," you say in an accusatory voice.

harry just smirks to himself. you could never be soft for long when he was around. but he appreciated that you felt you could ask him to stay, though you never had to in the first place. harry really would have had you forever, if you'd let him.

"stay as long as you need to." he says.

you glance back at him again, your eyes softer this time. you're analyzing him for a moment before turning to him a bit. "it took me a long time to understand why you sent me to azkaban," you tell him, your voice steady and emotionless. harry just watches you, admiring the light surrounding you.

"you would've never stood a chance in destroying the world had i been free," you state, your eyes still examining him. harry offers you another small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes the same way. "you knew you were weak," you say.

harry's now analyzing your expression, your words swimming around in his mind. "i did," he admitted to you. "it was just easier if i knew where you were all this time," he says breathlessly.

your eyes narrow at him once more, the anger returning to your body language. "easier for you. i would've never done the same if the roles were reversed." you snapped at him harshly. harry believed you. he thought about it a lot in his nightly battles with his own mind.

"you're right," harry stated, still admiring you in your anger. you were upset, but gave harry a questioning look. your eyes softened only a bit. "i think about it all the time," he admits to you gently.

you're a bit puzzled by his admittance of guilt, but don't let it stop you. "i hope it haunts you at night the way it haunts me," you say sharply, your eyes dark.

"always has," harry says to himself, only making you more angry. "you poor thing. must've been so tough relaxing in this mansion knowing i was rotting away in solitary confinement." your voice is strong, powerful, a contrast to the broken words you gave harry your first day here.

"it was," harry says simply, sensing your rising impatience with him. you stood from your seat, towering over him as he continued watching you in wonder. "you evil little rat. you're just lucky my magic is restricted by this spell. i would've killed you in your sleep that first night." you threaten him, gesturing to the protection spell around the castle and balcony.

harry wants to stop himself, but can't keep the smirk off his face. this only angers you more, pulling your arm back and slapping harry square across his face.

he doesn't react, instead allowing himself to stay facing away from you. "i hate you," you state weakly, your hands balled at your side. harry looks at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "i know," he says softly.

you frustratedly sit back down, turning to look back at the sunrise once more.

a long silence settles over you two, listening to the sounds of the city as it awakens around you. eventually, you stand, turning to leave harry alone on the balcony. you pause before you leave.

"i still never thanked you, harry." you speak softly, your back turned to him. he looks over at you, your curves glowing in the morning light. "you never had to," he replies, and you're off down the dark hallway.

for the next few months, you and harry live together amicably. he sees you around more often as you start to leave the confines of your room. of course the library was a place of solace for you, but he started to see you more in the living room, on the balcony, or in the dining room enjoying jinx's company. for a while you two exchanged polite greetings, simple glances and acknowledgements, before asking about each other's days, or commenting on the weather. it was agonizingly slow for harry, but he was breaking through your walls one way or another.

one day not long after you'd slapped him on the balcony, you sat in the living room with harry, across from his seat on the couch. he was surprised by your presence, but gave you a small smile over his book anyway. "jinx tells me you've been acting different," you'd stated bluntly, watching his face for a reaction.

harry put down the book he was reading, giving you his attention. "have i?" he asks. you were always examining him, your eyes critical but curious at the same time. "she says your anger used to be terrible. even worse than i remember." you lead him on.

harry bit his lip thinking about the years where his rage was at its worst. he tried not to dwell on them, and instead tried to focus on the newfound emotions consuming his life. but he couldn't deny the path of destruction he'd left while seeing red.

harry eventually nodded, his eyes distant. "it was," he admits, his voice just as lost in thought. you shifted in your seat. "you let it ruin everything, harry." you said softly, leaving him looking at the floor in disappointment. "i know," he admitted.

the silence between you was palpable. harry felt the weight of it on his shoulders before you spoke again. "i would hear about the things you did while in azkaban. the guard would tell me even after i asked him to stop." you inform him. harry can still feel your eyes shooting daggers at him.

"for so long i fantasized about being the one to kill you, to finally put an end to voldemort." you said wistfully. harry glanced at you, seeing a longing look on your face. "how brave of [y/n] to put her love aside to kill the dark lord's apprentice." you said in a mocking tone, leaning back in your seat.

harry watched you, imagining you in azkaban, dreaming of putting an end to his life, while he dreamed of freeing you. it was a fair trade, he thought, and not one he would argue against at this point. and it didn't go unnoticed that you mentioned your love for him, either.

"you still can," harry says, causing you to snap your eyes back at him. "excuse me?" you ask with a sneer. harry puts his book to the side and sits up, his feet planted on the ground. "kill me, that is. it's not impossible." he tells you with intrigue.

you're staring at him incredulously, your eyes always searching him. "you're…you're kidding, right? i mean, you took my magic while yours seems to be highly skilled. you really think i'd stand a chance?" you ask with a sarcastic laugh.

harry stands from his seat, taking achingly slow steps around the coffee table towards you. "yes, while your magic is weak, you are not, [y/n]. i've gone out of my way to keep the knives, fire pokers, swords, and hundreds of books on potions and charms out for your use, at any time, have i not?" harry questions you, getting closer now. though you would normally pull back from him, you stay seated, trying to process his words.

standing just before you, harry admires the curves of your face against the light of the fire. "with your nimble step and cunning wit," harry lifts his hand to gently put his fingers to your chin. the first physical contact he's had with you. unless you count the time you held that knife to his throat. "you could gut me like a pig before i even have the chance to squeal," harry's voice is soft but dark, your breathing caught in your throat at the contact.

as he backed away, harry could see the physical effect he had on you. your nervous blinking, your jaw tightening, hands trembling; he found it sweet he could still do that to you, even if you claimed to hate him.

after that day, harry felt less tension between you two. maybe being vulnerable around you made you realize he was never a threat to begin with. he didn't want anything from you, and he didn't care if you never wanted anything from him. as long as you were safe, that was all he cared about. he hoped you were starting to understand that.

though conversations between you were still tense and cryptic, there was a sense of unspoken comradery that felt nostalgic to you both. your serious, brooding angst matched with harry's calm, collected coldness made for an interesting match. it was never the same as before, you were both fairly aware it wasn't ever going to be, but there was an undoubted chemistry that still lingered from your teenage years together.

however, something else that always lingered during your interactions is your distaste for harry's actions. at any chance you can, you poke and prod at his past, partly to understand, he assumes, but also to test his limits. you were always cautious and suspicious of his submissive behavior when it came to this kind of confrontation; how could someone who was, at least at one point, so evil, so cruel and heartless, become so nonchalant about their past? who wipes out entire cities just to 'not dwell on it'?

this was always a point of contention between you, even if everything else until that point had been somewhat playful. it never so much upset harry as it riled you up, bringing strong emotions to the forefront, causing you to lash out at him. though he always stayed calm, he also always seemed to listen. he never disagreed with your feelings or sentiments, if anything he agreed with your hatred for himself. it's like that day in the living room when he tempted you with his death, and yet you never took the bait.

harry rather enjoyed watching you work yourself up, and admired how quick you were to defend yourself. he never wanted to upset you, of course, but sometimes he couldn't help his cheeky responses knowing it would get a look out of you that made his heart jump. it might not be the most gentlemanly thing he does, but something about your anger excited him. it was nothing like his vengeful rage from the past, but it had its own potency that ran a chill down his spine. harry was so used to everyone cowering away from him in fear of his power that he relished your open aggression towards him. it was thrilling, and it was exactly what he needed.

harry tried to remain respectful of his guest, but having such a beautiful mind and body occupy his space with him was hard to ignore sometimes. his eyes would wander, as well as his thoughts, and he had caught himself fantasizing about you a few too many times to admit. you were stunning, of course, you always had been, but there was something about you now that elevated your beauty in harry's eyes. maybe it was the dark, unforgiving coldness of your eyes, or the strong scowl that your expression rested in, or the underlying anger that was ready to bubble over at any point, but harry was completely infatuated with who you had become.

he knew how hypocritical it was for him to admire the parts of you that were forced out in your desperation to survive the decision he made for you all those years ago. though you seldom mentioned your years in azkaban, harry could see and feel the effects it continued to have on you. they weighed on him heavily, and though harry wasn't one to regret what's happened in the past, he wished he could've figured out another way to protect you at the time. a way that didn't dim the light inside of you the way that it has been.

but still, that light was there. when you smiled to yourself at your own quips, when you admired the food jinx prepares you, when you lost yourself in your books, harry could physically feel the light radiating within you. it was familiar, like an old hug from a friend, and was unmistakably beautiful.

sometimes he felt like a teenager again, discovering the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place. your natural charm, your captivating eyes, the innate draw he felt to you simply by being in your presence. it was unlike anything he's felt for another person, before or since meeting you. but rather than two teenagers flirting over study dates, you were now two closed off adults with a complicated history and 'break up', if you could even call it that. it was nothing like the past, yet it was entirely too similar.

you and harry had been sitting in silence together in the living room, reading your respective books, enjoying each other's company. it was one of harry's favorite things to do with you now, and one of the only ways you two could be together without it ending in tension. neither of you talked, neither of you made noise outside of the occasional chuckle or gasp at your readings; it was a peaceful excuse for harry to be near you, and sometimes admire you from over the pages.

this night, however, you broke the traditional silence by asking harry a question you'd been keeping to yourself. "harry," you started. he loved the sound of his name in your voice, it was invigorating to listen to.

harry turned his head to you, his book still in his lap, noticing you've long since placed yours on the table beside you. "[y/n]," he responded with his typical smirk, returning his eyes to his book.

you cleared your throat a bit, your ankles crossing in front of you. "how often did you think of me," it was more of a statement than a question, your tone not as cold and questioning as it typically was.

harry knew what you meant, of course, and waited a moment before answering you. "i'd never stopped," he said simply. it was true, and it still is.

you turned to look at the fireplace, your knees bouncing out of the corner of harry's eye as he pretends to continue reading. "but you never came back for me," you stated. harry's eyebrows furrowed, glancing at you again before looking away to leave you with your words. "you left me there to die," you said, that familiar coldness returning to your tone.

harry let out a sharp breath. "that was never my intention, and you know that." he says without a reaction. you become visibly irritated, your jaw clenching with your fists. "you never thought about me," you insisted, your words heavy with contempt.

harry shut his book and threw it beside him, leaning towards you. you turned to glare at him, your nostrils flared. "i was lucky to sleep one full night in the last 5 years without a singular dream of you." he tells you, his voice as steady as his eye contact. "you haunt me like a ghost, [y/n]. you always will."

you're looking at him questionably as you stand from your seat across from him, now making your way towards him. "good. i hope you never forget about what you did to me. i won't." you hiss at him, your cheeks turning red. harry's mind races with you towering over him, leaning back in his seat to fully enjoy the view.

"how could i forget about you?" he quips, that same damn smirk making you grit your teeth. you take another, heavier step towards him, your fists trembling at your sides. "stop fucking doing that," you spit threateningly.

harry cocks his head to the side, looking you up and down. he likes seeing you like this, even if it scares him a bit. "what?" he asks, pushing you even further.

you step between his legs and lean into his face, only leaving a few inches between you. "that, you fucking creep. is this funny to you?" your voice is raised now, the anger finally starting to boil over again. "not at all," harry says, still smirking at your reaction.

"then wipe the smirk off your face and stop doing this to me, harry." you instruct him, leaning back to cross your arms in front of you. harry's biting his lip, not able to resist the lustful thoughts he's having of you in this situation. "doing what, exactly?" he asks, curious what you mean.

"this, all of this, harry. you look at me like a starving animal. you watch me around the house like a stalker. you say you think of me all the time and yet you've only so much as touched my chin." you rattle off, clearly frustrated with these thoughts you've kept inside. "you bring me back here and have me live like a princess when there's people outside who live like animals because of you and what you've done," you continue to raise your voice at him, now getting yourself completely worked up.

harry just watches you, like always, not disagreeing with any of your sentiments. as he normally doesn't, he knows you're a smart girl.

"and you're still fucking looking at me like that," you growl, your arm coming across his neck once more, like the first night you were here, holding him against the cushions of the couch.

harry doesn't stop you, as he never does, and instead enjoys the feeling of you kneeling between his legs in an attempt to further choke him. "i swear on my own life i'll still kill you, potter. what the fuck do you want from me?" you interrogate him, your dark eyes searching him for answers.

the smirk on harry's face only grows, causing you to push further into his throat. it's ironic how much he wants from you right now that would only further put his life at risk in your hands.

"i…never wanted…anything…" harry chokes out. he knows he's stronger than you and could easily escape your grasp, but he enjoys the feeling of letting you have control over the moment, and over him.

"that's a fucking lie," you say through gritted teeth, getting nose to nose with harry. "tell me what you want." you insist.

harry's heart is racing, his mind going blank from the lack of oxygen, and an inconvenient erection growing through his trousers. he could tell you so many things he wants, how many nights he's spent imagining you on top of him like this once again. he knows it would only anger you more, and he was almost tempted by that thought alone.

after a few moments of harry struggling to keep his eyes focused on you, you could feel something against your thigh that caught your attention. glancing down, your weight on harry's throat lessened enough for him to breathe slightly. you looked back up at his eyes with a look of confusion and shock before quickly returning to anger.

"seriously? are you fucking turned on right now as i'm threatening your life?" you ask him with disgust, slightly pulling away. harry's cheeks flush as he tries to catch his breath, your arm still resting across this collarbone. he stays quiet, his eyes glancing between you and his lap.

you scoff at him. "you're so pathetic, potter. how you were ever a leader of anything is a mystery to me." you ridicule him, an amused smirk coming across your own face.

your condescending attitude only fuels harry's excitement more, trying not to let his expression expose how much he's enjoying this.

"it's almost like you want me to kill you," your voice is quiet but dangerously cold, giving harry goosebumps as your breath falls across his blushing face. he tries to stop it but his body can't resist a low whine being forced from his throat.

your eyes fall to his lips for just a moment before you lean into them, surprising harry with a hungry kiss as you relax your weight onto his body. more moans escape harry's mouth as you roughly force your tongue past his lips. his hand naturally finds your waist, but you slap it away harshly with your free hand. "no touching." you warn him, your lips brushing against his.

"yes ma'am," harry responds.

you give him a look, your other leg kneeling beside his as you straddle his thigh, your skirt falling perfectly over his knee. "i still hate you," you growl, choking him against the couch once more. "i know," harry says breathlessly, staring at you like a helpless puppy.

forcing him into a suffocating kiss, you eventually let harry breathe as your lips find his neck, your teeth sinking into his skin and hands grasping his shoulders tightly. he groans at the pain, earning a slight roll of your hips on his leg. harry wants nothing more than to touch you right now, guiding your hips into his body, pleasuring you like he's wanted to for so long. but for now, he's just glad you're kissing him, and enjoys the feeling of your breath against his bruised skin.

"shirt off." you command, sitting back to observe the puddle harry's become in your grasp. he wastes no time taking off his sweater, throwing it behind him as your eyes trace over his scarred torso. your cold gaze softens at the sight, your fingers tracing the healed wounds carefully.

for a moment, when you glance at harry through your eyelashes, he feels that same love you shared as kids. the soft, innocent admiration that came with inexperience. for just one moment, nothing was complicated, and there was no history. you were discovering harry all over again, like he had been with you.

the moment didn't last for long as your gaze hardened once more looking at him. you stood from your straddling position, much to his disappointment. he was ready for you to end the moment and leave, but you didn't.

"on your knees." you instructed him. again, harry wasted no time as he sunk to his knees in front of the couch, eye level with the hem of your skirt. he looked up at you eagerly, hardly believing the privilege he had to see you above him like this.

harry's heart was racing as you lifted your skirt to expose your panties to him. his eyes never left yours, his breathing hitching at the beauty just in front of his face. his hands were patiently folded in his lap, aching to grab every part of you.

you slowly lifted one thigh onto harry's shoulder, reaching down to take the glasses off his face for him, setting them to the side. "now," you told him, your voice seductive as you lean your weight into him once more. harry holds his shoulders steady, his mouth close enough to your soaked pantines to nearly taste you already.

"let me ride your face," you coo, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as he continues staring at you with hungry eyes. "it's the least you can do for me," you smirk, your voice still chillingly cold and cryptic.

harry lets out a sigh of relief and desperation, eyes glancing at your panties before returning to your gaze. you slowly push his open mouth onto you, not able to hold back a sound of relief yourself.

harry's eyes flutter shut as your hips roll onto his face, losing himself in your smell and taste. your fingers tangle into his hair to keep him in place, soft, breathy gasps falling from your lips as you watch from above.

after a minute you become too desperate and pull your panties aside, instructing harry to hold them as you force his mouth onto your dripping pussy. harry listens like a good boy and holds the fabric, his hand also taking the chance to grip your inner thigh. a deep moan escapes your throat at the feeling.

harry's tongue quickly works its way across your arousal, enjoying every part of you as he pushes himself further into your pussy. your hands try to pull his hair back to relieve some of the overwhelming feeling, but harry doesn't let you control him for once. he's desperate to please you, his hunger growing the more of you he's allowed to have.

harry's other hand grabs for your skirt to hold it above his head, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. your face is twisted in pleasure, lips bitten, eyes glazed over as you watch harry disappear between your legs.

harry moans at the sight of you, sending shivers across your skin. you moan, biting your lips closed, your hips stuttering against his mouth. "fuck," you mumble, earning another moan from harry as his tongue circles your sensitive clit.

a hand rushed to your mouth as you attempt to hide your filthy noises, the feeling making your eyes roll back. you're trying to mask your pleasure, but harry can see right through you.

you finally successfully pull his mouth off of you, lips swollen and wet as his head rests in your grip. "good," you say breathlessly. your voice falters a bit. you take your thigh off harry's shoulder, again, much to his disappointment.

"sit," you tell him, gesturing to the couch once more. harry complies, returning to his spot on the couch behind him. you reach forward and unbutton his pants, pulling them down a bit with his assistance. you can see his erection through his briefs, causing you to smirk a bit before returning to your neutral expression.

"no touching," you remind harry as you position yourself to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. harry's sure you can hear his heartbeat racing under your control.

you start grinding your soaking wet panties against harry's clothed cock, your mouth falling open with his at the sensation. the light of the fire behind you leaves harry with the beautiful sight of you glowing in his lap, your warm skin pressed against his as your breathy moans fall into his neck.

harry can hardly take the teasing any longer, his moans becoming needier the harder he gets under you. "fuck, [y/n]," his voice is deep with desire, his head rolling back once your roll your hips into him harshly. you moan at the sound of your own name, your hands returning to his shoulders as your nails dig deep into his skin.

"that's right, say my name," you smirk, grinding into harry at a faster pace. "so pathetic," you remind him.

harry continuously lets your name fall from his lips as you watch him, a helpless, desperate mess beneath you. he loves the feeling of letting you use him any way you want to.

soon you can't wait much longer, and you pull out harry's cock from his briefs. the feeling of your hand grasping his shift makes harry's hips buck up involuntarily, silently asking for more.

you can't help but chuckle at just how eager he is. you're more than enjoying the control and effect you have over him.

"now," you say again, causing harry to look back at you with needy eyes. "you're gonna let me use you until i cum," you tell him, teasing yourself with the feeling of him against your wet pussy. harry's eyes nearly roll back again as he nods for you, his lips parted with uneven breaths.

you slide harry inside of you, adjusting to the feeling as harry's head falls back once again in pleasure. "so fucking wet," harry sighs softly, nearly whining. once your hips lower completely onto his length, you start to ride harry slowly, still adjusting to him. he's a full blown whining mess beneath you, his chest flushed and heaving as your pussy tightens around him.

you take in the sight of him, your eyes exploring every sweaty part of his body as you continue riding at a slow pace. you unwrap your arms from his shoulders, leaning back into your hips. "take my shirt off," you tell harry.

his eyes open again, looking at you eagerly. his hands nervously begin lifting your shirt, holding the fabric carefully between his fingers, and savors the sight and feeling of pulling it off of you, his eyes glancing at your chest before locking with yours again.

"so beautiful," he tells you, your skin looking deliciously soft in the warm lowlight. "i know, now be quiet," you shut him up, picking up the pace of your hips.

harry's eyes narrow at you, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around his cock only making him hungrier for your pleasure. the sight of you bouncing in his lap, your breasts just in front of his face as you lean your hands next to his head on the back of the couch.

"open," you tell harry.

he doesn't have to be told twice before his lips part, his tongue eagerly waiting for you. you guide your nipple into his mouth, your hips rolling onto harry's cock in circles. his teeth and tongue tease the sensitive skin, your pussy gripping harry even more and earning a low growl from his chest. his hands remained at his sides, but he wanted nothing more than to feel you everywhere on top of him.

you start riding harry once more, his teeth still gripping your nipple making you whine at the feeling. "fuck," you let the word slip out, your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. harry's more than aroused at your reaction to him, his cock aching inside of you to release.

you pull harry's head back by his hair, forcing him to look up at you. you reach for his glasses that you sat down earlier, returning them to his face delicately. harry appreciates the gesture and can better see the pleasure in your eyes, a soft smile falling across his lips.

"so pretty," he whispers. he can see the blush you try to hide, looking away from his eyes and down at your hips.

you start groaning in frustration, your grip on his hair tightening, causing harry to wince. "you're gonna make me cum," you tell him through broken moans, your thrusts becoming uneven. harry can feel you tightening around him again. he groans at the feeling, your name slipping from his mouth again and again. this only makes you fall apart more, high pitched whimpers coming from you as you chase your high.

you soon sink into harry's neck, your cries of pain and pleasure falling across his skin as your legs start to shake. you can't even form words as your body feels the waves of intense pleasure from each thrust onto harry's cock. your hands move to his shoulders again, holding onto him for stability as you continue to ride out your climax.

harry grows impatient at the feeling of your orgasm and watching you break down into him. he finally grabs for you, moving your hips to the couch beside him, staying inside you while you gasp at his movement. he kicks off his pants and adjusts himself between your legs.

"harry," you try to protest, your voice weak and shaky. "just let me do this, darling," he growls, his hips becoming flush against yours as he pushes his cock completely inside of you. you let out a gasp, your hand slapping over your lips once more.

harry hungrily digs his cock deeper inside of you with each slow thrust, his hands holding himself up above you as he watches his cock easily slide in and out of your soaking wet pussy. he folds your legs back as he sinks even deeper into you.

"holy fuck," he groans, his breathing heavy, hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep himself steady. "so beautiful, [y/n]," harry tells you again, his droopy eyes focused on your face twisted in pleasure.

you look at him, your eyes full of lust, but still cold as ice. "i…hate you," you remind him through strained breaths, struggling to take his entire length, still glaring at him.

this pushes harry over the edge, his hips quickening until he feels himself start to unravel. he pulls out of your warm pussy and cums on your stomach, groaning at the sight of you below him.

you gasp at the feeling, looking at harry with shock. "did you just cum from me saying i hate you?" you ask, your tone mocking his desperation. harry nods, still stroking his cock slowly, his other hand remaining on your thigh as his moans quiet down.

"you're disgusting," you tell him coldly, but harry can see the smirk on your face and the lust in your eyes. he watches you below him, smirking in return.

"and you love it."

[azzydoesstuff]

lethal company dashboard simulator

🛠️ she-fillin-my-quota Follow

man 41-experimentation has the worst abandoned facilities. where is all the scrap guh??

🪲 lootyloot-nestynest Follow

the fuck are you calling an abandoned facility?? experimentation is my fucking home you prick. you scrappers call these facilities abandoned but they're not. you're just wandering into our homes and stealing our things. leave it to the scrapper to regurgitate insectophobic slop. blocked

#like i swear to god. these fucking scrappers are so stupid. i hope they all die #insect pride

3,601 notes

🌰 nuts-be-cracked Follow

i swear to god y'all, ain't NOTHINg moving on my watch

🖇️ boioioioing Follow

heyyyy 😏

🌰 nuts-be-cracked Follow

😬

457 notes

🦅 professionalhawkster2 Follow

bro why do the fucking dogs keep messing with my gang?? they almost killed jerry a couple hours ago

🦖 heywhosaidthat Follow

how about you be fucking quiet you fucking pickle thieves

#seriously who steals pickles lmao #fuck baboon hawks

92 notes

🖳 theindomitablesigurd-deactivated1968

T HEY TOOK M Y PIcKLES!!!!1!!

#naw i'm uptading th ose mf dangjer level to 75% agfter tha t shit

18 notes

🛠️ she-fillin-my-quota Follow

first time visiting 7-dine! wonder what i'm gonna find lol

🖇️ boioioioing Follow

hey i live there! lol

🛠️ she-fillin-my-quota Follow

🫣

🖇️ boioioioing Follow

man what the hell

#cw coilphobia #fucking scrappers #hope i coil this bitch lmao

7,084 notes

🦑 badjokesbyjeb Follow

What do you do after eating a really tasty planet? You give the restaraunt five golden stars.

🪙 living-on-the-blingbling-baby Follow

BEAST LET ME OUT ALREADY I NEED TO GET OUT I CAN'T BE DIGESTED YOU FUCKING BEAST CEASE THIS MOCKERY OF OUR GOLDEN PLANET RELEASE ME SPIT OUT THE RINDS LET ME LEAVE

🖁 across-the-system Follow

Haha, good one Jeb! You should really change your url!

#you fucking idiot don't say shit like that #he's gonna fucking escape at some point if you keep doing this and then you'll really be fucked you fucking moron #goodjokesbyjeb

765,014 notes

🦈 thump-thump-thump Follow

who up eatin' their legs

🛠️ she-fillin-my-quota Follow

what

🦈 thump-thump-thump Follow

us thumpers get called halves because when we're born we have to eat the bottom half of our bodies to get out of our eggs. this is why we have no legs and have to use our arms to walk around. hope this helps ❤️

#cw thumperphobic slur #cw half #don't be ignorant like this and do your research #also don't call us halves please #thumpers #thumperposting #thumper gang

132 notes

☣️ richrichardguy-deactivated0709

man why don't this fucking door open. oh it's my fucking crew behind it fucking great. fucking assholes won't stop saying i smell

🌿 rapaxfoliumsnap Follow

hey i think we haven't met before

☣️ richrichardguy-deactivated0709

😨

🖳 theindomitablesigurd-deactivated1968

RICH NOOOOOOOOOOO

#bro stank like shit but i didn't want him to go like this #not like this! not like thiiiiiiis!

64,089 notes

🪲 lootyloot-nestynest Follow

you guys, i just found the coolest fucking metal sheet. you have no idea

42 notes

🛠️ she-fillin-my-quota Follow

BRO GET OUT OF THE DOORWAY STUPID FUCKING BOX

🎁 lethaljesterjestering Follow

listen to my tune

351 notes

🔦 new-guy-working-here Follow

hey guys it's my first week working for the company! i think i'm gonna make quota this time

🌿 rapaxfoliumsnap Follow

no you're not

🔦 new-guy-working-here Follow

no i'm not

9,278 notes

🎭 she-fillin-my-quota Follow

hey guys i'm resigning from the company rn. im gonna make some changes accordingly on my blog now. can someone tell @lootyloot-nestynest i'm sorry and ask them to unblock me. i'm a changed man now, i'm not a scrapper anymore

🖇️ boioioioing Follow

guys idk something seems off about this guy. he was spewing coilphobic shit a couple days ago

🎭 comedy-tragedy-drama Follow

guess who's been busy, coily? 😏😏😏

🖇️ boioioioing Follow

no fucking way

#the madman did it #bro got fucking masked lmao

[maxtermind]

SCENE 2 :: HOW MUCH TRAGEDY ↳ you were never not mine — carlos sainz ༉‧₊˚✧

★ : pairing :: carlos sainz x reader ★ : genre :: angst; fluff separated by a hidden emotional turmoil, carlos and y/n navigate the complexities of co-parenting their twins amidst the high-stakes f1 world. amidst paddock visits and personal healing, will they go further apart or find their way back to each other? ★ : a/n :: text posts are going to return from tom till then you can enjoy this<3 taglist form is in the series masterlist btw!! HATS OFF TO EVERY SINGLE SMAU WRITER BECAUSE THIS IS SO HARD LMAO

( series masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )

carlos is typing... (y/n's pov)

f1 10 mins ago

f1 LET'S GET THE EUROPEAN LEG OF THE SEASON STARTED! 🇮🇹

username oh the admin knows what they did with carlos at the front lmao username can't wait for the races! let's goooo! 🇮🇹🏁 username so excited for this leg of the season! bring it on! 🤩 username hoping for some amazing races! good luck to all the drivers! 🙌 username here for the racing, not y/n’s drama ⤷ username ugh yes like can we focus on racing and not y/n’s drama? username italy, here we come! forza ferrari! ❤️ ⤷ username poor carlos, dealing with y/n’s drama and still racing username ready for some intense racing action! 🏎🔥 username who else is here for the drama? carlos and y/n's relationship update please! 😂 ⤷ username i hope carlos and y/n figure things out. it was so nice seeing her at the race again

yn.user 20 mins ago

yn.user behind every successful man is his loving fam❤️ congratulations papa sainz

username this is a joke, right? after all the drama? lilymhe wow such a hottie and a MOM? smash! ⤷ yn.user date and time🙏 ⤷ alexalbon uhm... im right here? username weren't you just out with another man? hypocrite ⤷ username loving fam? like she didn't just get caught with another guy? 😂 username wow, pretending everything is fine now? ⤷ username guess she's trying to clean up her image good luck with that username this is so fake everyone knows the truth username acting like a loving family after everything? sure, y/n ⤷ username like who the fuck are you fooling, y/n? we know the real story username you're so pretty, y/n! i bought the tickets just to see you irl username didn't take long for the fake posts to start

carlossainz 20 mins ago

carlossainz victory feels even sweeter with my kids by my side!🏆❤️

username congrats, carlos! the kids are your ONLY real supporters. username so glad you’re focusing on the kids and not the drama. ⤷ username victory without y/n? this is peak comedy😭 ⤷ username way to go, carlos! the kids are all you need! username finally, a win focused on the right people. congrats, carlos! username oh god we really lost the great war huh username great win, carlos! the kids must be so proud. ⤷ username this is the content we love. kids over drama! username well done! no need for distractions we're so proud❤️ ⤷ username the kids are his real mvps so lol username congrats, carlos! the kids are your biggest fans.

twitter

boo is typing... (y/n's pov)

lily is typing… (y/n's pov)

yn.user 20 mins ago

yn.user as my boys said: finally a worthy opponent✨

username this is why some people shouldn't have kids. username she's a mess. no wonder they broke up ⤷ username using her kids for attention. disgusting! carlossainz so you're also bad at scrabble? ⤷ username oh shit carlos didn't come to play ⤷ username you tell her carlos!! username no stability for those poor kids with her around. ⤷ username kids must be so confused with a new man every week username pathetic attempt to make carlos jealous. GROW UP, Y/N!!!

carlos is typing… (y/n's pov)

instagram stories

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[ironstrange1991]

The Goatee Problem

Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 0,600k

Warnings: None, just fluff.

A/N: This is just a small blurb I came up with instead of finishing my Defender smut. Didn't want to end the month with nothing so I am posting this. Hope you guys like it and have a short but very nice reading.

"Believe me, you don't want to see this"

Stephen's voice sounded a bit shaky and nervous and his insistence that you do not go into the bathroom had you worried.

"Stephen, just tell me what happened. Are you hurt?"

You tried again to open the door and this time he didn't try to stop you from entering.

He was standing by the sink, but he turned his face so you couldn't see him in the mirror's reflection. You walked over hugging him from behind and he sighed "My hands... are shaking more than usual today... I shouldn't have tried..."

He turned to you, his face still smeared with shaving foam, but the goatee you were so used to was gone. "I had no alternative but..."

"Oh..." Was all you managed to say before bursting out laughing. Stephen frowned slightly offended.

"That's why I didn't want you to see me like this" He said pulling the towel from his shoulder and wiping his face.

He was gorgeous. Of course it was weird to see him without the goatee, but he was still handsome without it.

"I am not laughing at how you look, but at all the drama you are making."

You caressed his strangely smooth face, your index finger tracing around his lips and down to his chin. Stephen's skin was extremely soft.

"I've had my goatee for years, I don't even recognize myself without it."

You nodded, still distracted by how much the sight of Stephen in that different way was messing with you. "Well, I can't complain, you're still as hot as ever"

His face flushed with your compliment which made the whole situation even cuter. You pulled him to your lips and the feel of his smooth skin was different and interesting at the same time. He seemed taken aback by the intensity of your kiss and he was the one who broke the kiss to breathe.

"Don't get me wrong, Steph. I want the goatee back and you're going to have to put up with Wong and America's jokes for a month, but it's not all bad"

He didn't seem to understand where there could be a bright side to that tragedy and you made sure to make that clear when you kissed him again and continued to kiss the corner of his lips, running your lips up his cheeks  until you reached his ear and licked his earlobe with the tip of your tongue before whispering "I'm sure it will feel very interesting between my legs"

He glanced at you completely intrigued as you pulled away and walked towards the bedroom.

"Did you like it then?" He asked still unsure.

You chuckled "Yes I did. Besides I'm sure in another universe there must be a version of you without the goatee."

He took a good look in the mirror and shook his head as if trying to encourage himself. "You're right, it isn't so bad."

"Don't get too excited tiger, I want my goatee back as soon as possible or you'll be sleeping on the couch." You warned.

“How do I face Wong and America now?” He asked, his voice sounding completely mortified “Shit, can’t let Stark see me like this.”

“Good lucky with that.” You said laughing while leaving the room.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

BACK TO DOCTOR STRANGE MASTERLIST

BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @ppatricia34me @strangesgirls @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @coffedraven @withalittlehoney

@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @whiskeyho @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma @sassenach-on-the-rocks

@thealleydog @anadlockfan @pinkthick @loverofallbroken @butchers-girl @ironstrangeheart @asgards-princess-of-mischief @slytherinqueen4life @spideybv28 @pxanonymous16-blog @kinavet

[the-bloody-sadist]

in case no one else has asked, please list your top 10 BL manga/manwha? 👀

i am. very interested in what other media you enjoy, especially BL

Combining these two bc I didn't wanna leave the second out!

(I wasn't a big fan of Blood Bank personally but I'm so glad it helped you with your world building Lil Whale!!)

I'm hoping some of these are unheard of for you guys because THERE ARE SO MANY BL/YAOI AND I READ THEM CONSTANTLY BUT NOT SO MANY ARE FANTASTIC AND MIND-BLOWING AND SPECTACULAR AND DEEPLY PSYCHOLOGICAL! I'm pretty sure I'll end up listing WAY more than 10, mainly because I want to highlight ones I feel like a lot of people haven't read. ALSO because I read so fucking many of them that I've collected a stash and NOW IS MY CHANCE TO YELL ABOUT THEM.

Just a disclaimer, these are not in any sort of order, as they're all about the same level in my head, just grouped. I'll list the "big name" BLs that I adore after these! First up are the ones that either have a quiet fandom or aren't well known! Since there'll be so many, I'm not going to say much about them, just know that usually no BL/Yaoi is perfect to me, since there are many bad psychology tropes here and there or unnecessary cruelties that aren't exactly realistic etc., but overall, I like the way that the story and characters are handled and/or love the art.

Here's the top five of my top ten that's not a top ten bc there are so many (I just said I wouldn't group them but I lied my ass off apparently):

Jealousy [Scarlet Beriko]: This is one of those that emotionally hits so hard that it will stick with me forever and I will usually tear up just a tiny bit when I think back to the moments that made this one so beautiful. A lot of times a story with major hurt, angst, and tragedy won't wrap up with enough to make me scream and cheer at the end. But THIS ONE DID. And I stopped reading for a while when a big event happened because I thought it would end horribly and I'd have to suffer three weeks of fiction-induced depression for a man who wasn't even real. BUT NAY. The themes you get in this one revolve around loneliness (huge draw for me, it always hits), mafia-connected characters and the rivalries from that, self-destructive prostitution, and characters who have difficulty receiving love without freaking out. Are those even themes idk. OH WELL. YOU GET THE POINT. I want this one on my shelf. You might've heard of it, but the fandom is silent so I never did. T_T OH ALSO THE ART ON THIS ONE IS GORGEOUS I FUCKING LOVE IT.

Hitori to Hitori no 3650nichi [Hitomi]: First of all, favorite manga artist. FAVORITE MANGA ARTIST. I'm never exactly sure if the artist is also the writer or if the writer is never the artist or...BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER. Anyway! I listed this particular title because it was the first that I found by this person - but then I discovered it was a part of a bigger series, and there are like I DON'T KNOW FIVE DIFFERENT MANGA?? OR SOMETHING??? Related to this one. I don't know which order, I just know that I read them all in a frenzy. THE CHARACTERS. OH! OH THE CHARACTERS! Oh my gods, it's so good. LMFAO. The arcs these characters have are fantastic, and I loved the fact that the abuser in one is shown to be the victim of abuse in a prequel story, and that his anger issues and other elements of his personality came about to affect him and destroy him. Just...I don't recall the details, READ IT. That's all. Spectacular depictions of nuanced trauma within abusive relationships.

The Beast Must Die [Lee Hyeon Sook]: This remains one of my favorite depictions IN ANY MEDIA of a psychopath, because it's SO accurate and I'm SO fucking proud of the author for doing their research and OH MY GODS YOU GUYS IT'S ABOUT TO GET A DRAMA CD LET'S FUCKING GO! This story is so good. It's so evil. It's so psycho-thriller. It's so WELL DONE. It features a dark academia-ish secret society within a college setting who hunt people for sport, sometimes. LIKE. Come on. And the psychopath (dark hair) IS THE MAIN LOVE INTEREST! You could literally hear the summary and go "oh this is for Sadist". And I don't get a lot of those that deliver this well. SOMETIMES the art makes me twist my head a little but YOU KNOW WHAT I DO NOT CARE OKAY? It's just SO good. There's murder, there's kidnapping, and - most importantly - a main character who doesn't just DEAL with whatever the psychopath does. He's smart, he fights back, he learns to understand psychopathy to determine if he should remain with the love interest...it's fantastic. That's all. I will stop. *BANGS THE WALL*

Aporia [Seontae]: ALL HAIL THE HEALTHY BDSM RELATIONSHIPS THAT STILL HOLD TENSION AND EMOTIONAL WEIGHT AND SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!! HELLO!!!!! This is my favorite BDSM-themed story. Everything is consensual, but is everything safe??? Not when it comes to the main character's emotions and tendency to sacrifice his wellbeing for a partner. BUT NOT TO WORRY, HIS SADISTIC LOVE INTEREST IS CONSIDERATE AND ATTENTIVE AND CARES ABOUT HIS FEELINGS!! This is, perhaps, one of my favorite depictions of a REAL sadist. A real one as in a realistic, irl BDSM-relationship sadist. Someone who is just as worried about taking care of his partner as he is about hurting him JUUUUST right. ANYWAY! THAT'S ALL! READ IT! HE'S LITERALLY ME!

Royal Servant [MasterGin, Chungnyun]: Okay, we were talking about healthy BDSM in the previous one, now let's talk about TOXIC BDSM-THEMES THAT I LOVE. Lmao. DO YOU LIKE MASTER/SLAVE DYNAMICS? DO YOU LIKE STORIES WHERE THE ARC LEADS TO THE ABUSIVE MASTER EVENTUALLY LEARNING TO NOT BE ABUSIVE AND LOVE THE SLAVE? YEAH ME TOO. I DON'T NEED TO DESCRIBE THIS ANY FURTHER. AUTHOR OF ANGEL BUDDY, THIS IS THE ONE THAT I KNEW HER FOR FIRST.

A bunch of other good ones you may or may not have heard of (I won't describe every one of these unless I have something particular to say, so enjoy the pictures from them that I snatched):

Love me in the Wilderness [Wang Tao]

Neon Sign Amber [Ogeretsu Tanaka]

Zetsubou ni Nake [Shinou Ryo]: Guys. This story is UNIQUE AS HELL. I had to say something about it. The premise is that a man who was raped turns around and goes back after his rapist and rapes him back, and then they fall in love. IT'S....the amount of times my jaw dropped was insane on this one. SOMEHOW IT'S WRITTEN SO WELL. SOMEHOW THEY NAILED THE STRANGE REALISM OF IT AND HAD ME TEARING UP OVER THE INTENSITY OF THE RAPE SCENES. VERY WELL-PACED, VERY TRAUMATIC IN A GOOD WAY. HIGHLY RECOMMEND. The way they come to love each other after this crazy foundation of mutual rape is IMPRESSIVE. Kudos to the writer.

Love or Hate [Yeongha]: This is a very well-known one but there's like zero fandom so I think it fits here. Also a lot of hate going around for it? Which I never understood, fuck those guys. This remains one of the most beautifully-written that I've ever read, and I mean that purely in like...the ACTUAL writing on the page. I'm talking poetry, purple prose. I just recall being blown away by that, and no manga before or since has ever reached its level. For once I felt like the writer was also a novelist because of the way that they put things, and had a clear voice in the style. Did the main boy end up with someone I didn't want him to end up with at the end? Yes. But I felt like it fit pretty well, and it was sort of a tragedy, and it was supposed to hit you painfully in the gut. A lot of people were mad at the main character for that and I don't really think it's fair. In any case! A beautiful story with complex characters and intriguing dilemmas. Highly recommend it.

Shangri La no Tori (Birds of Shangri La) [Ranmaru Zariya]

Two in Six Billion [Denzou]

The Pizza Delivery Man and The Gold Palace [Upi]: Great story and character-building so far! I will say that once it became porn, it dove a little too heavily into it for me. Like I only needed one scene of the porn, I was enjoying the panic attack scenes much more. BUT YEAH, IT'S ONGOING, SO WE'LL SEE WHERE IT GOES! But the panic attack scenes were the reason I read it and yes, I did tear up.

Sleeping Dead and Living Dead [Asada Nemui]: I RECENTLY FOUND THIS ONE AND ADOOOOOOREEE IT SO MUCH. I DO NOT CARE THAT IT'S AN OLD SCIENTIST AND HIS ZOMBIE PATIENT. NORMALLY THAT WOULD HOLD NO SWAY OVER ME, BUT OH GODS, THE ART IS SO PRETTY AND THE STORY IS SO GOOD. I LOVE THE LITTLE ZOMBIE MAN! I LOVE THE LITTLE ROMANCE THEY'VE GOT!

Private Lessons [ANCO, Mongya]: It's cuuuuute what can I saayyyyy it has BDSM and threesomes and I liked it. Very entertaining. Scratches the BDSM itch and the little SUB WAS SO CUTE. Anyway.

Kingyo no Ubugoe [Gontaku Nido]

From Points of Three [White Eared]: Threesome dynamics!!

Silent Lover [Qiang Tang, Bai Li Jun Xi]: I STOPPED THIS ONE AT A CERTAIN POINT BECAUSE IT DIPPED INTO WEIRD M-PREG AND STUFF I CANNOT READ. But BEFORE all that, I was deeply ingrained in this one. It has a main character who can't speak (a particular weakness of mine) and he's OH SO CUTE and he's given as a sex slave basically to the emperor (emperor? idk he's a kingly man, something like that), and the emperor is evil but learns to be soft and yet it takes a LONG TIME SO I WAS BAWLING HYSTERICALLY OVER SOME OF THE HEARTWRENCHINGLY PAINFUL SCENES IN THIS FOR THE POOR YUU-ER. A good read until it decided to go the omegaverse-by-magic-potions route. I didn't stay to figure out where it actually ended up.

Yoru wa Tomodachi [Ido Gihou]

Toumei na Ai no Utsuwa [Hitomi]

Re:Birth [Misuaki Asou]: The singular omegaverse story in existence that I actually liked. Hopefully that says a lot. Mostly because it's about the omegaverse elements NOT being present for the main character and him trying to fake it because he's lonely and afraid that his partner (an alpha *shakes off the disgusting label because who the fuck thought alpha was a cool word*) will leave him if he finds out he's just a regular guy (aka beta I guess? ABO is weird idc).

Sahara no Kuro Washi [Soutome Emu]: MASTER SLAVE MASTER SLAVE---

Haru ni Kaeru [Kunieda Saika]

Incorrigible [Bbong]

Well Done! [ANCO, Mongya]

Nemuri Otoko to Koi Otoko [Zariya Ranmaru]

Even If You Don't Love Me [Pando]: It dropped off SUPER hard (it's ongoing still) but damn was it good in the beginning. I am sick and tired of where it's at currently but the psychological manipulation and the horror of a certain twist in the storyline was CRUSHING to me. I only wish that it would have gone a better way after it happened, because it slowly destroyed itself and became like a lot of tropey rape stories. The asshole just keeps being an asshole and it's not really where the story seemed to want to go with that. But otherwise, it started off strong and I'll give it kudos for that.

Bigger titles I'm pretty sure everyone has heard of that I enjoy:

Saezuru Tori wa Habatakanai [Yoneda Kou]: Is it a little unrealistic that literally everyone in this story is gay apparently and wants to fuck one man apparently and/or rape him? Yes, absolutely. Does that matter once you're in the story and it's so good and all these unrealistic cruelties make a really strong bond between the main love interest and this self-destructive masochist who's probably not really a masochist but only interested in hurting himself because he doesn't know how else to handle his trauma from childhood? Ummmm yeah. Anyway! This one had a lot of inspiration and a lot of tears and a lot of obsession from me. I re-read it all the time, I watch the movie over and over, I listen to the audio drama and cry at my favorite scenes. Do I care in the end that it's a little unrealistic at times? No but I do laugh sometimes when I'm about to share it with a new person. Because BL is just like that generally and you've got to put up with a little of those tropes to find your favorite stories. THIS IS ONE OF THE TOP FAVORITES OF ALL TIME FOR ME BTW, IT'S ONLY SO LOW DOWN HERE BECAUSE PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE IN YAOI KNOWS ABOUT THIS ONE ALREADY, AND WE'RE ALL AWARE OF HOW GOOD IT IS.

ENNEAD [Mojito]: I will say that this is basically the best manga/comic/manhua...what's the Chinese word idk ANYTHING OF THIS MEDIA TYPE that I have ever read. It's not done, and people have been complaining that it's starting to fall into the common BL tropes but you know what I do NOT care. Mojito is a genius, Mojito is a master storyteller, Mojito is beautiful, Mojito is strong - I just love Mojito and this work. So much. The action, the horror of rape, the deep-set character conflicts and dilemmas and internal turmoils. Everything, nailed it. Nailed it. And not to mention it's set in FUCKING EGYPTIAN MYTHOLOGY AND THEY'RE ALL GODS AND THEY HAVE SUCH COOL BATTLES AND COSTUMES AND DUDE???? I'm so hooked. That's all.

Killing Stalking [Koogi]: OBVIOUSLY. I don't really need to say anything about this one except that yeah, some of the psychology is a little off and some of it is just super shallow. But I loved the characters and that's what mattered in the end. I fell in love with Sangwoo too and it ripped my heart out when I read the ending. I was depressed for like two weeks and it was the first story that had ever affected me that way, but I was also younger and this was one of my first yaoi/BLs and yeah. GREAT story though, fantastic storytelling, very lovable characters. Sangwoo was handled so much better than most "asshole/kidnapper/rapist" characters and I will never stop appreciating that, because a lot of writers tend to forget that your villains have to have redeeming qualities if you want us to like them (????). Jinx, I'm fucking coming for you. Suck my dick. KOOGI FTW.

Missing Love/A Married Man [In Hyerin]: Some of the DESCRIPTIONS of how trauma works especially of the sexual nature in this story are SO. SO. GOOD. However, I am beginning to grow VERY ANNOYED at where it decided to go with the most current updates of the story. The author did enough trauma to the main boy, now it's getting so incredibly excessive that it's overdoing it and the author's kinks are showing through. LIKE I GET IT. Okay? I do. But this one became too much and I need him to return to the actual story arc of going through that trauma so he can HEAL with the right person taking care of him.

MadK [Ryo Sumiyoshi]: I am into NONE of the kinks that would lead to me picking up this manga. I hate demons, I'm not a monsterfucker, I can't do extreme guro, and yet I SAW CANNIBALISM. THAT WAS THE ONE THING THAT I THOUGHT I'D GIVE IT A TRY FOR. And then accidentally I got obsessed because the plot is AMAZING and the writing is SO GOOD and who cares if I hate demons and monsters ALL OF THEM ARE BADASS AND HOT (??) AND IT CEASES TO MATTER. Good on the writer for making them appeal by personality alone and expressions and whatever else you signed a deal with the devil to make me like because it worked. Also the guro is beautiful, so it doesn't even matter. Hannibal levels.

Warehouse [Killerwhale]

Painter of the Night [Byeonduck]

Viewfinder/Finder [Yamane Ayano]

Given [Kizu Natsuki, Gusari]

Nii-Chan [Harada] (and basically every other work by Harada)

Sadistic Beauty Side Story [Geumsan Lee, Woo Yeonhui]

Dine With a Vampire [Pangin, Pinko]

Angel Buddy [Mastergin, Chungnyun]

My Partner's Tastes and Fetishes [Deok Hwa]

Interview with a Murderer [KJK]

On or Off [A1]

Steel Under Silk [Snob]

The Pawn's Revenge [Evy]: It was going to be SO GOOD! And then it dropped off harder than a boulder from a balcony and I have absolutely no idea why the author took it the way that they took it, but go off I guess. It's boring as hell now but it started off with promise and I enjoyed the art and character designs. Too bad, I suppose.

Caste Heaven [Ogawa Chise]: An old classic with all the sticky sometimes icky mostly ridiculous BL tropes but hey, it's cute. It's sexy. It's fun. I don't care.

Wet Sand [Doyak]: We're still in the beginning stage of this one but I'm excited to see where it goes! Plus the art SLAPS ASS like nobody's business.

19 Days [Old Xian]: I hate comedy, I hate fluff, I hate buddies that never become lovers, but none of that mattered when I picked this one up. The duality of man. Bite-sized chapters and ACTUALLY AN EVENTUAL ROMANCE that none of us thought we'd ever get.

Legs That Won't Walk [Black Apricot]: Although this one dropped off hard for me and I'm really just following it to see if it picks up again and does something interesting (it probably won't) I did enjoy it in the beginning. I just get tired of the "asshole just keeps being an asshole and nothing else but woobified slut keeps coming back to him??" without the strong and realistic undercurrent of Reasons Why Someone Would Come Back such as manipulation or threats or unhealthy attachment. Perhaps it was sorta there in the beginning with them but now I'm just like why are we still continuing this story.

Pearl Boy [Inking, Zoy]: *Awkwardly scratches neck* It's not the best okay? It's not. It's really not. I don't like half of the things that occur in this one, but the ART, bro. THE ART, BRO? That's what got me into it and what kept me into it, PLUS I do like little Jooha. I stayed for Jooha, too. Dooshik drives me a little batty most of the time and looks ugly for half the story to me, but when he's badass, he's pretty badass, so I can forgive him. I really don't know why he has such drastically changing appearances because I thought he was someone completely different for a bit LMAO. In any case, I have to admit I like the uhhhhh danger that Jooha gets himself into and the crazy things that make no sense but you know what he gets hurt and then there's comfort and rescue and they cry and I cease to care that it makes no sense. (Sorta, I don't actually cease to care I just laugh awkwardly and go okay sure that's how it works because it's so hard to find stories that don't do this LOL I'm beating a dead horse) BUT WHY DOES HE CUM PEARLS? WILL WE EVER KNOW? WHO THE HELL THOUGHT OF THAT AND WITHOUT A SUPPORTING MAGIC SYSTEM IN THE WORLD TO MAKE THAT MAKE SENSE? IT WENT DOWNHILL SO FAST AND THE ENDING IS TERRIBLE BTW. THE VILLAIN SUCKS.

That's it. I can't talk to much or I'll run out of words but HOPE YOU GUYS FIND SOME NEW READS!!

[kimberbohwrites]

As promised, the smuttiest chapter I have EVER written. Please enjoy. AKA the much anticipated, "Rolan in Rut" Chapter Hope for the Gate Chapter Three Word Count: 3,328 Rated: Explicit -- MDNI! You have been WARNED. READ ON AO3 (or continued below) <Chapters 1&2 Please don't forget to kudos/comment/like/reblog <3 Rolan x Tav art by @ ORANGEKITTYENERGY on tumblr

Summary: Eight months after the events of 'All I Wanted' (my first Rolan x Tav fic [see series]), Tav and Rolan’s relationship is tested by tragedy and turmoil. There will be drama, romance, political intrigue, action, and of course — smut. Is our favorite tiefling strong enough to handle it all and hold on to the girl? Tags/Warnings: Rolan, Tav. Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Porn with Feelings. Porn With Plot, Tiefling Biology, Tieflings, Rolan in Rut, Anti-Tiefling Racism, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Breeding Kink, Breeding, Knotting, Penis In Vagina Sex, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Shameless Smut, Creampie, Smutty

If Rolan had felt more himself, he might be embarrassed about how quickly his dignity was left behind. It is as if something breaks in him as the hours crawl toward the time when Tav and him had agreed to meet. It was agonizing. He’d been in rut before, but it had never felt so acute.

Even her scent left behind on his desk fuels the madness. He knows she’s busy getting ready for their unplanned holiday and he knows he mustn’t bother her. But the fever and aches were growing steadily worse with each passing hour. The only balm for him came in the form of his desk. As he resigned himself to finding relief, a hint of too-familiar shame rises in him but was quickly washed away in the tidal wave of need currently housed within him.

It wasn’t something he was proud of, but he’d grown desperate for her.

Resting his head down and his face flat on the desk he took a deep breath of her scent that still lingered on the wood. His cock grew achingly hard but the rest of him felt a sense of relief, like a cool breeze on sun-scorched skin, the pain remains but the relief is welcome. Taking another deep breath, he freed himself from his pants, taking his throbbing length in hand as he closed his eyes and conjured the image of his Tav.

Trying to bite his lips to contain the muffled groans proved of little use, his desperate pants and whines were still audible even with his face against the desk. He felt filthy, face pressed to his desk as he stroked his cock to her scent and his fever-fueled imagination. He wanted to find her right now and take her, against whatever surface of the Tower he found her nearest.

He needed to be inside her, to ruin her, to make her scream his name.

Stroking faster he felt the pressure build, the bulbous knot at the base of his length already forming. Gods he was desperate to knot her. He needed to feel her squeezing against him as he claimed her. His hips began to rut into his hand as he worked himself closer to the edge, wondering how she would feel stuffed with his knot.

His mouth had slackened as he got closer, now drooling onto his desk as he panted and moaned like nothing more than an animal. He needed Tav, alone. He needed to fuck and fill her and claim her as his mate. His imagination flashed with images of her beautiful core dripping with his spend and it propelled him over the edge. He came so hard he felt lucky he was already face down on his desk as his head reeled.

With each pulse of his cock, he let out a whine of relief as he coated the underside of the desk, his hand and his lap.

—*—*——*—*—

Rolan sat up with a start. His head felt fuzzy as he realized that he must have passed out at his desk. It couldn’t have been for too long judging on the state of things. With a mutter he cast a quick spell to clean up the mess around him. As he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, the other dropped into this lap and found himself still quite hard. He let out a groan of frustration. He’d expected the relief of such a carnal act to last longer but he had never experienced a rut so intense.

Quickly fixing his clothes and appearance with another simple spell (though even the little spells seemed to drain him in his current state) he stood from his desk. The effort making him reach out to the smooth surface for support. His head rushed as the room spun around him.

Zurgan, no more magic for right now. He thought to himself.

He needed to reach the portal room up in Ramazith Tower and meet Tav. He could barely hold himself upright in his current state of, desire. And using magic seemed to no longer be an option.

Looking down revealed the additional challenges of his situation. Though his clothes were clean and fresh once more, the obviousness of his arousal was quite clear to anyone who looked upon him.

Panic prickled at his forehead as his heart began to race. He chided himself, he was no better than a horny young man — it was humiliating. He was better than this. As his thoughts began to consume him threatening to take him to a dark place, a small knock sounded at the door.

“Rolan?”

Tav’s voice cut clear through the panic and right to him. Peeking her head in the door with a smile, she let herself the rest of the way in when she noticed him leaning against the desk for support.

“I thought you might not be feeling well.”

She bit her lip nervously as she approached. Rolan fought the urge to throw her down on the desk, rip off her clothes, and bury himself inside her.

“I think that’s a bit of an understatement actually”

He couldn’t help but sound tense when he answered.

“I thought that might be the case. I hope it’s okay, but I packed your things and have them upstairs and ready for you. The shop is closed, can I help you love?”

It came out in the next breath, before he even knew what he was saying.

“Marry me”

He felt his hand go to his mouth, but it was too late, even if he smothered himself right now the words had already escaped. Judging by the look of abject shock on her face, Tav had heard him quite clearly.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

He quickly added and he heard Tav let out an uneasy breath.

“That’s okay, I know you’re not yourself right now… I was just surprised is all.”

She put a supportive arm around him as if to lead him upstairs but at her touch he jumped as if struck by lightning. He was barely holding on to the gentleman in him as his rut-addled brain screamed at him to mount her right there.

Her touch felt better than anything he’d felt in his life — so much so that he’d almost finished again on the spot.

“I think it’s best if I follow you”

“Right, sorry”

He could smell her arousal as she moved away from him, and he groaned before he could silence himself. Digging his clawed nails into his palms he said a silent prayer to any deity who might listen that he could just hold on a little longer.

He wanted to be gentle with her, she deserved romance but with each passing moment something wild grew stronger within him.

—*—*——*—*—

It had been a process making it upstairs, he’d needed to walk slowly. A combination of fever and arousal making the environment around him distorted and unfamiliar. Tav had been patient and kind of course, trying to keep ahead but always turning back to wait if he got too far behind. He began to feel uncomfortable in his clothing and not just because of his hardened cock pressed against his pants.

His tail swished behind him trying to keep him balanced as he followed her upstairs.

More than once, he found himself wanting to give up. The feeling of too uncomfortable to move almost overwhelming him, but when he saw Tav ahead he would find another spark of energy to keep moving.

Finally, they reached the upstairs of the tower and the room that used to house Lorroakan’s hideous book throne. He’d been as good as his word and the throne had been disassembled and organized back onto bookshelves first when he’d become Master of the Tower.

Knowledge was not a throne to horde and covet, he thought to himself angrily.

The grand space now served as the main library and the home of the permanent portals he’d been working on since Tav had come to stay. Currently only the portal to her home was functional, though he was almost finished with the one to Waterdeep.

When he crossed the threshold into the room, he found her leaning against a desk. Nearby was stacked luggage for both of them. He was immensely grateful for her, he’d focused so much on making sure the Sundries was ready that he forgotten to pack himself.

However, he was unable to voice any of these thoughts at current, his mind simply latched on to her form on the desk.

It was strange, but he was almost grateful for the crippling fever because he wasn’t able to feel his usual sense of anxiety. In truth, Rolan had panicked the several times he’d accidentally thought about what this experience might be like with Tav. He’d always been sensitive about his more infernal attributes even though she’d shown time and time again that she loved each part of him.

Some small part of him still believed it was a trick. Being reduced before her to his most base and primal instincts was something that had long worried him, but now that it was happening, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

The only thing he could feel was need. He couldn’t wait any longer. Not when she was a few steps away, so beautiful and all his. His intentions must have been clear on his face because she turned to him with a coy smile.

“Rolan, we’re almost there”

While his mind attempted to clear the dirty thoughts and take control once more, his body takes a step toward her as if acting on its own. Almost like he’s being pulled toward her by an outside force and that he can no longer resist. Truthfully, he doesn’t want to resist it. Tav makes no attempt to move away, looking up at him as he moved closer with her big beautiful green eyes. Her chest rises and falls gracefully with anticipation. Rolan forgets to breathe when his eyes meet hers.

The last shred of his control is ripped away when she nervously bites her bottom lip again. He’s on her in an instant, his tail coiling around her back to pull her in even though there is no closeness that will be close enough ease the way he burns for her.

“Need you, please”

His words are moaned into her lips between hot, desperate kisses that begin to drag south down her jaw.

“Rolan”

“Please, let me have you, I’ll try to be gentle”

He whines the request as he sucks and licks at the spot where her shoulder and neck meet, feeling elated as her body shivers against his.

“Yes, gods Rolan, yes”

Tav pulls him back to her lips and kisses him hard. His hands reach out to hastily strip her of her clothing. Their kisses turn frantic, teeth and lips against one another as he finally divests them both of their clothes. Certain he’d probably tore his own robe a little in his rush but too desperate to care, he kicks the last of it away.

He pushes gently to lay back on the table, uncaring for the bottles and potion equipment rattling around as he positioned her perfectly and dropped to his knees. His tail latched around one of her ankles as his hands spread her dripping cunt open before him, his body now driven near-feral at the smell of her need.

His tongue is inside her pushing as deep into her and licking against the sweet spot inside her like candy. Her screams and squeals of excitement, her taste, has his cock dripping onto the floor beneath him. With a groan he realizes that before too long the knot at his base will swell. He needs to be inside her before that happens, but he is unwilling to take her without the proper preparation.

Excited at a challenge, he decides to finish her and quickly. Flattening his tongue out inside her to press against her walls, he traces the pads of his point and middle finger over her clit. He carefully avoids his claws in that sensitive area with what little thoughts his brain is still capable of making. The effect is immediate as her abs tense, her thighs tremble and he is just able to push her to her bliss before she bucks out of his grasp completely.

 When she finishes on his tongue and face it’s his name on her lips, screamed until she runs out of air and gasps for breath.

Her taste satisfies the itch and the fever somewhat, but it’s not enough. He barely waits for her to recover, now wild with lust he stands and flips her over on the table. Tav is now chest down on the surface, holding herself up by her tiptoes as she is bent over by him. Bottles tip and clatter to the floor, the sounds of breaking glass barely permeate his brain as her dripping cunt is exposed to him.

“Please Rolan, please”

She begs and mewls softly at him as he leaves wet kisses down her spine, tracing his tongue every few inches against the hot skin.

“Since you asked so nicely”

He groans it out as he straightens and grips his cock, running it up and down her dripping center to coat himself with her slick. 

“Tav… are you sure? This might… hurt or you could get… get pregnant”

He whispers and whimpers his concerns as he readies himself. Desperate as he is to be inside her, he needs to be sure that she wants this… wants him.

She turns her head slightly to see him from her periphery though she’s still bent over the table.

“Rolan…  I want you”

He can tell just from the glint of her green eyes that she has more to say but the moment is wrong. As much as he’d hang on her every word, he is grateful as he pushes into her with a desperate whine.

“Tav… fuck… You feel…”

The sentence goes unfinished as control slips from his grasp. His hips rut wildly against her backside as he bottoms out in her. The slight swelling at the base of his cock already has her squirming and his tail coils around one of her legs to keep her steady.

His clawed fingertips lightly mar the smooth surface of her skin as he clutches her hips and pulls her back onto his cock with each thrust. At first he’s not even aware of the stream of filth leaving his mouth until he feels Tav clench harder around his cock as his words grow obscener.

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock. Going to knot you and stuff you and fill you.” He groans and another whine follows on its heels as his thrusts grow more desperate, “breed you all night and put a baby in you.”

She clenches and cums, squeezing him like a vice as she squirts and drenches him. His thrusts grow faster, harder at the feeling as he fucks her through her orgasm.

Her hands shoot out to grab the table edges for support, sending more supplies and glass crashing to the ground. It goes unnoticed as she gasps and chants his name like a prayer. When she feels his growing knot begin to slow his movements, she is only able to scream as her eyes roll back into her head and she finishes on his cock for a second time.

He’s so close now, desperate for release his thrusts growing shallower as his knot begins to hold him inside her.

“Mine, mine, mine, mine”

He’s unaware of how he chants the word with each shallow, desperate stroke inside her. Tears form in his eyes at the sensation, how she squeezes his fat knot as he frantically grinds into her. Her free leg, the one his tail isn’t wrapped around, kicks out and her toes curl. Though he’s barely aware, Rolan is grateful Tav is enjoying herself as well.

When he cums, its with a shout and a gasp as he unleashes pulse after pulse inside of her. Tears run down his face, whining at how good it feels, the relief of mating almost immediate. The sensations push Tav over the edge with his a final time as she barks out his name.

“Rolan, fuck!”

He rests his sweaty head against her back and kisses her skin softly a contrast to the brutal fucking he’d just given her. She murmurs in gratitude. His body lurches and shakes as his cock throbs within her, still releasing pulses of spend deep within her.

“How long are we…”

“It should go down within the half hour, but I can’t be sure I’ve never done this with anyone… never felt like this before.”

“I love you too, Rolan”

“You should rest”

“Gonna close my eyes”

She whispers already sound sleepy and he can hear her start to drift off, exhausted from the day of packing and helping him. His heart lurches in his chest as he gently leaves more kisses on her back, softly rubbing her shoulders to soothe her as she slipped off.

“I love you more, Tav”

He whispers it to her, unsure if she’s still awake enough to be able to remember he’s said it when she wakes. That’s okay because he plans to tell her a hundred times when she wakes again and a hundred more after that.

As the fever clears, the short window of relief allowing his other senses to function he takes stock of the room around him. Broken glass and scattered potion reagents clutter the floor around them, he knows he should feel bad about the mess he’s made.

Instead, when he sees Tav beneath him his heart swells, the situation they find themselves in is overtly sexual but all he and think of is how much he loves the freshly fucked woman currently asleep on the table. He’s glad she’s resting; he intends to spend the days that follow making her scream his name until her voice gives out.

But he’s also grateful she can’t see the tears that run down his face as he worships her sleeping form, gently stroking her skin and leaving light kisses in the wake of his fingertips. This woman, this beautiful, fearless, frustrating woman had become the most important thing in his life so quickly. It scared him sometimes.

—*—*——*—*—

Downstairs many floors and streets away, and blissfully unaware Cal strode toward the Tower after visiting Lia at the Forge of the Nine. As he rounded the corner he collided with a small figure, sending them sprawling onto the cobblestones.

“I’m SO sorry! I need to pay more attention!” He began to stutter out as he lurched forward to help the figure from the ground.

“Oh, clumsy me — I didn’t see you there”

As Cal reached out to take their hand and stand them up he gasped in surprise.

“Wait, you’re…”

“Fancy bumping into you here!” The monk that Cal had met that very morning said with a smile. The half-elf woman was breathtaking, soft, sweet, and almost delicate looking.

“How…”

Cal gaped as he aided the beautiful woman to her feet.

“My name is Venetia”

“…Cal! My name is Cal!” He awkwardly laughed out as remembered his name at the last second.

“Where were you headed Cal?”

Her voice sounded so sweet and when Cal looked in her eyes, her eyelashes fluttered hypnotically. He swooned at the sight; smitten the instant they’d made eye contact.

“Home”

He pointed to the looming Tower on the skyline. Venetia’s eyes seemed to light up, Cal’s heart raced at the sight.

“Can I walk with you?”

She asked it so nervously, so sweet and shy that Cal immediately said yes without further consideration.

“Of course!”

She fell in beside him, pressing close as they turned toward the Tower and fell into easy conversation.

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