#ah the literature that built me <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanaminokanojo · 3 years

Text

BLOOM | Sukuna X You | Part 1/3

collection masterlist

one two three | Bloom Masterlist

His hair was the color of cherry blossoms, that's the first thing you noticed. It was the softest shade of pink, easy on the eyes, reminding you of the tendrils of filtered rays of the sun lightly touching the edges of clouds very early in the morning. Or your favorite angora wool sweater.

The man stole your attention from the book you were reading when you chanced a look from your periphery just to check who sat on the stool beside your usual spot on the bar – the seat at the very end by the wall. Your planned glance turned into a furtive stare at the sight of him from his candy-floss-hued hair, the rippling muscles hidden under his white oxford shirt and the array of tattoos that peeked through his neatly folded sleeves. And boy, since when did men smell like vanilla and spring while also exuding such a virile scent?

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at the thought, internally shaking your head at your behavior. You should not be staring at people, and though you weren't exactly ogling him, you were still observing him enough to associate him with your favorite article of winter clothing.

"Hey. The usual for you?" you heard Maki, the bar owner, ask, giving you the idea that the man was a regular. How you haven't spotted him before was a mystery.

If it was already hard concentrating on the novel you were reading, you've completely forgotten about it when you heard him say, "Make that single-malt." It's either the gates of hell opened at the sudden heat you felt on your skin at the sound of his voice or the gates of heaven did with how delicious it sounded in your ear, thick like honey and deep with a distinct ring to it. It got you wondering what his mother craved for when she was pregnant with him, and your brain said, "Greek gods," when you lifted your eyes from the current page you were reading and briefly exchanged looks with him as he shifted his line of vision from Maki to you.

You turned your eyes back to your book, making it seem like you were just absently looking about, but in reality, it took herculean effort to wrench your gaze from him. In that brief meeting of your eyes, the features of his face registered in your head like a bar code scanner, etching itself in your mind like a white-hot brand. He wasn't shockingly handsome, but he was beautiful in his own right with those intense eyes that reminded you of drowning pools and the rugged yet refined planes of his face. It was as if an artist painted him in passionate anger, slowly fell in love with the piece and began redefining his features with gentler strokes.

You turned the page of your book despite not getting any reading done. Well, it has been the case for a considerable amount of minutes now, but you tried anyway, furiously staring down at the new page but not comprehending anything. Your eyes kept scanning the same sentence over and over again but it was not sinking in at all.

"Excuse me, miss," that deep voice you've already developed a strange affection for assaulted your senses again, making your head snap up to the direction it was coming from. Hell, you think you'll do its owner's bidding just hearing it at the rate you were going, reacting automatically as if you were programmed with a voice prompt or something.

You were about to look at him but Maki caught your attention as she pushed the smoothie you ordered towards you, placing it precisely in front of you on the hardwood surface with her fingers. She arched a brow at you, causing you to stiffen on your seat.

You've been coming to the quiet little bar since you grew old enough to drink. In fact, you considered it your regular watering hole, going there whenever you can even in the day as it doubled as a gastro-pub. You've already come to know the staff who reserved the spot for you every single time you told them you were coming, particularly the tough but very lovable Maki. She's basically a friend now, and you knew you were acting off if she was giving you odd looks.

"Thanks, Maki," you said just in time, even managing to smile. She just shook her head at you before walking away to tend to another client.

"I have to know what book you are reading," the person beside you said just as you began sipping on your drink, which, you've noted, was a cherry blossom tea smoothie that reminded you of him.

You let go of the straw between your lips, swallowing hard. Turning your attention to him, you found him sitting sideways, chin propped on the heel of his palm as he regarded you. "Huh?" was all you could manage to say to him.

A slow, crooked smile etched itself across his mouth, the action appearing sensuous with the gradual way his expressions changed. "That book," he said for your benefit. "May I know what it is about?"

You just blinked, still questioning yourself if he was addressing you.

"If you're that engrossed about it, it must be great," he said. "Mind telling me the title?"

"Book?" you asked dumbly. He was really frying your brain.

He pointed at the book you were holding with his lips, protruding them slightly before smiling again. Jesus, you loved the way he smiled. The gesture didn't belong there when you've already thought he was the smirking, grinning-devil type. It was too soft a gesture, but then again his hair was shell-pink – a contradiction to his stridently brawny features.

"Oh." Despite yourself, you found yourself chuckling. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Not by the book, I hope."

You looked away, smiling to yourself as you closed the object in question and slid it over to him. When you looked at him, you were surprised to see him actually reading the synopsis at the back, interest flickering in his dark eyes. You were already expecting him to just read the title, probably the author, too, thinking he was just flirting with you judging by his last words. But he was actually reading it.

"It's about an architect," he stated. "He must be mind-blowingly awesome if you're too transfixed on his story."

"No, Howard Roark is mostly a recalcitrant bastard who breaks rules here and there, doesn't cooperate or collaborate and is stone-faced about most anything."

"But it's what you like about him," he supplied.

You nodded. "He’s a breath of fresh air in a world governed by stuffy archaic principles. The spring to a long, stagnant winter of conformity. I'm in love with him." Noticing the look of amusement on his face, you were quick to add, "What?"

"Nothing." His smile didn't waver though. "Are you an architect, too?"

"Too?" you repeated with inflection then tilted your head. "Ah, you're an architect, huh?"

"Guilty."

"Any projects of note?" you asked, tilting your head in wonder when he seemed flustered. "What is it?"

He shook his head slowly. "You're very straightforward."

At that, you grinned. "Should I take you out to dinner before I get that information?" You sipped leisurely at your smoothie, glad that you throw him off as much as he flusters you.

"You don't have to," he found himself answering anyway. "But I work for a firm, so they get most of the credit. We built that new hotel at Shinjuku."

"Eh? Didn't pin you for a baroque kind of guy."

"You know..." He was all ears now judging by how he leaned closer to you. He leveled his expression to yours then. "So, what kind of guy did you think I am?"

There it is, you thought, the smirk you've been waiting for. Without giving it much thought, you said, "The Howard Roark type, of course."

***

"You seriously don't remember, do you?"

It wasn't that you didn't. You simply had no idea how you got home, considering how you ended up all smashed after enjoying too many margaritas after your smoothie. You seriously just didn't know certain things. You didn't know what happened after you reached your limit. And out of all the things you know you should not have missed, you didn't know his name.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a headache, trying to fill in every bit of information your friends were trying to leech out of you in your addled state. You've been expecting it - the great inquisition - especially after you returned in a state lesser than they've been expecting, unconscious, according to the collective stories of your roommates, when you told them you were just stepping out to get some reading done. And on a school night, no less. Very atypical of you indeed.

"What should I be remembering?" you responded to Ieiri. You weren't exactly fond of her worrisome nature although you knew she was just watching your back especially since she has been rather disapproving of your escapades with these guys you somewhat dated back then. You appreciated it, but it didn't mean you liked it.

"Oh, I don't know, Y/N. Strawberry blond? Tats? Drives a Jeep? Ring any bells?" she said, jogging your memory. "He came knocking at two in the morning, carrying you in his arms. I mean he was hot according to Satoru, but do you even know the guy?"

“Cherry blossom,” you absently corrected the color Ieiri mentioned.

“Huh?”

“Him, I remember.” You smiled at the thought, not hiding your delight from them. You were sure they were just annoyed that they weren't in on the action since Satoru, your other friend and roommate, who seem nonexistent recently, was the one who interacted with the man you met and supposedly brought you back to the house you rented with all of them. And Satoru doesn't know basic decorum to actually ask what the man’s name was. "Howard."

"Howard?" Suguru, another one of your friends who was in the literature department as you were, asked. "Howard Roark?" He knew the reference, obviously. You forced him to read the book before it even became one of your study materials.

You nodded enthusiastically. "He's an architect."

"He didn't look like a 'Howard,' apparently," Ieiri said.

"That name is from her favorite book," Suguru supplied, his dark eyes shifting to you as he tucked some stray strands of his long, raven locks which were currently tied in a half-up. "So your guy's an architect, too."

"That, but he isn't 'my guy' and I don't know what his name is."

He grinned then. "If you're openly calling him by the name of the character you claim to be in love with, I'm assuming..."

"No!" Ieiri gasped.

You laughed despite the action making your head hurt. You were still hungover after all, but you didn't mind, not when you knew you had a good night. Probably a great night to allow yourself to be hammered like you have been. You only ever drank to your fill when the company is great and when you were in a jovial mood.

"It's nothing like that. He just feels like spring time. Looks like it, too." You waved your hands in front of you for emphasis. Still, your expressions said otherwise.

You weren't in love with the man because you didn't believe in mushy things like love at first sight, but you knew you liked him, just that you weren't getting your hopes up cause there's a chance you might not see him ever again, assuming your meeting was something transient like the blossoms his hair made you think of. Even if he was a regular at Maki's, if your schedules didn't coincide with one another, it would not be easy to meet. You've been coming to the same bar for years and yet, you've only ever seen him that time. You never really know.

But then, you got your answer pretty quickly.

From: Satoru

See you at 7 tomorrow night. Same place.

That’s how Satoru's message read, sent late the previous night. You almost forgot about the agreement you’ve had with him to get unlimited barbecue after sleeping the rest of the day but you made it out just in time. It was something you did with all three of your friends as a way to bond with them individually.

You glanced at the clock on your phone, feeling the stares of the restaurant staff on you. Well, you’ve been there for more than an hour waiting for him. One hour and thirteen minutes to be precise. All you’ve ordered so far was a glass of lemonade and you were able to finish that in the first half hour, sitting on a table for two when evidently, you were alone. All your texts were ignored and your calls were always being redirected to voicemail.

“Where the fuck are you, Gojo Satoru?” you asked him in one of your messages, hissing low into your phone just so the other diners would not be offended by your words. You got a message another twenty minutes later, the sound of your phone almost making you jump from your seat. However, when you looked at it, it was from an unknown number.

You were about to check the message when one of the waitresses came to your table, pad and pen on the ready. She’s always the one who served you whenever you and your friends would go there for a dose of beef and pork fat, and she has always been nice to you.

“Not to be nosy but I think your friend isn’t coming.”

You nodded, grimacing. “Tell me about it.”

“The boss has been giving you the stink eye, too.”

Looking over the counter, you saw the elderly man really looking at you. He looked away when you met his eyes, muttering to himself. You knew how the owner could get, but you simply loved going there since their food is good and the service is just the same. You smiled ruefully at the woman before you. “I’ll have a sukiyaki set and warm sake, please. Thank you.”

“Would that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She flashed you a bright smile before disappearing into the back rooms.

You almost forgot the message you saw earlier, but then, your phone lit up again with that familiar tone. The new message was from the same number.

From: Unknown

How are you?

From: Unknown

I hope you’re okay.

You frowned, not having the slightest clue as to who could be texting you.

From: You

Who is this?

Your order came but there was no response from the mystery texter or Satoru. You felt pathetic looking at your phone every once in a while as you ate and drank. Normally, you wouldn’t even have given anybody, including your best friends, the time of the day, making you wait for longer than an hour without as much as a message. You don’t ever wait for people over the agreed meeting time. You hated it with passion. And you were already thinking of ways to make Satoru pay.

You were about to eat a mouthful of beef when you heard the chair across you being dragged back. Your eyes flicked to the direction, and to your utter shock, you almost dropped your chopsticks if it weren’t for the hand that reached out and held onto your hand, securing the utensils.

Once again, you were sitting on your usual spot at the bar, eyes clashing with those intense ones owned by the pink-haired guy who apparently drove a charcoal grey Jeep and reminded you of spring, the same one who drove you home the other night.

“Careful,” he said, his scent assaulting your senses.

A lump formed in your throat, making you unable to form proper words, so you settled for putting down the chopsticks. You folded your hands together on your lap, recovering from your consternation before you finally looked at him, unable to help it but grin. He looked different that day, more laid back in a white baseball cap mussing his candy-floss hair down, a loose-fitting shirt in the same hue and jeans. He looked so fresh, you felt the air around you cool down considerably.

“How did you…” you hesitated and shook you head. “Hello.”

He broke into that crooked smile. “Crazy how the moment you sent the message, I saw you through the glass walls while I drove past.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again, not quite knowing how to react to it when suddenly, the first part of his statement registered in your mind. “Wait, message?” You picked up your phone, showing him the messages. “This is you?”

He nodded slowly. “Looks like you’re doing great.” He regarded the bottle of sake on the table. “I had to get your number to check up on you. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Y-yeah, I mean, no, not at all. Thank you by the way.” You chuckled, saving his number and naming him Spring God in your contacts. “I wasn’t really expecting you to bring me home.”

“I got your address from your driving license.” He grinned then. “I thought of taking you back to my place, but I didn’t know how that would sit with you.”

Who says chivalry was dead? “I’m sorry for acting crazy, if I did anyway." You chuckled. "I don't remember…and for having to bring me all the way to the house.”

“It’s fine. It was lovely meeting Satoru.”

At that, your face flushed red. You winced. “I’m sorry for whatever he did while I was out of it.” He could be crazy at times, and you wouldn't be surprised if he did something untoward.

He shook his head, letting out a slight chuckle. “He was very nice to me, don’t worry.” He furrowed his brows then. “I also got your name. Y/N. I don’t know if you forgot to tell me or you just didn’t trust me enough, but I’d like to think it’s the former since you didn’t seem to think twice about getting wasted with me like you did.”

You deliberately didn’t tell him your name, but he was making it sound a little nicer. It wasn’t really something you planned on doing again, meeting him, but somehow, he found you. You shook you head, coming clean. “If you put it that way, okay, but really, I thought it was better if you didn’t know.”

“Hmm. Why is that?”

You found it endearing that he tilted his head a bit to the side when he asked the question. Your lips curled upwards at the corner. “I just never thought I’d meet you again.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

You laughed awkwardly at his remark. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Okay.”

You requested for another order of barbecue for him. He declined but you insisted. “Come on. My treat for your act of kindness.” You snickered. “Besides, my supposed date bailed.”

“Date?”

Sighing, you said, “Well, not really. Satoru. We agreed to meet here over an hour ago but he hasn’t been answering my messages or calls. Something probably came up.”

He eyed you thoughtfully. “If you don't mind me asking, is he your...?"

"My what?"

"Your boyfriend…maybe."

You chuckled at the thought, but then you realized you didn't even know his name. "I don't really tell strangers about things like that," you teased.

“Okay, but I thought we’re past being strangers.” He smirked then and you swore you felt your stomach flip.

“We’re in the getting-to-know-each-other phase,” you told him with a laugh, acceding. "Since I didn't tell you my name, I didn't expect you to tell me yours. Plus I didn't ask, so may I have yours?"

"Sukuna," he said. "Ryomen Sukuna."

"Su-ku-na," you repeated, liking the feel of the syllables as they rolled out of your tongue. Finally, the person you've gotten so fond of in just a short time had a name. You didn't know what his name meant but it seemed to match him well regardless of how arbitrary it was to his person. You couldn't think of any better name though. "I like your name. It's pretty." You smiled brightly at him then. "And no, Satoru is not my boyfriend."

Ryomen Sukuna was an absolute puzzle to you. How he could look so badass and pretty much intimidating with his strapping physique and inked skin – throw in the multiple piercings on his left ear which you were noticing or the first time – while also pulling off all these adorable little actuations was a quandary to you. Tall, solidly built men like him should not be reminding you of soft, cute things, but the moment he blinked in confusion, you knew you couldn't get enough of it.

"Nobody ever said that about my name, but thanks," he returned in that deep voice after a moment's pause. And was that a dusting of roses over his cheeks? The surprises you were getting from this man was endless. He really was such a breath of fresh air, so far from the usual stereotypes.

Your face seemed to be perpetually pulled into a smile whenever you were around him, and you didn't think you were doing a good job suppressing the urge to be beaming like an idiot around him. "So, anyway, what made you think that blue-eyed idiot is my boyfriend?" you asked, changing the topic.

"Well, he was a bit hostile at first when he took you from me, making me explain things but then started apologizing after. He told me you could be a handful when inebriated..." He let his voice trail off as if letting you chew on his words.

"You agree with him." It wasn't a question.

"Yes." Sukuna pretended to frown. "He also calls you 'his princess'."

You threw your head back, covering your eyes momentarily in embarrassment. "Now I wish you met Ieiri and Suguru instead," proceeding to explain that the nickname was something akin to what a father would call his precious daughter.

"He was rather intimidating, but I guess he's just looking out for you."

"He's still not off the hook for standing me up," you quipped, "But you finding him intimidating is funny."

"Why?"

You scoffed, gesturing over to him. "I think you can snap him in two if you wished, too."

"He was scary," Sukuna insisted.

"He's harmless...most of the time, but yeah, he’s rather protective. That’s one of my dads for you."

He laughed then. "There's nothing scarier than a fiercely protective friend…or a doting father. I can't muscle my way out of that for sure."

"Ah, then you'll find Ieiri scarier."

The night pretty much went well and ended on a good note. Sukuna did most of the talking for the rest of the night. You learned he was six years older than you at twenty nine, one of the head architects at the firm he worked for, has a love-hate relationship with his job cause he wants to draw portraits instead, was a delinquent when he was younger but got away with things cause he was a straight-A student, loved dogs so much that he cries when they die in movies, was closer to his mom, got his tattoos on a sudden whim, and was pretty much a sweet, charming genuine person which contrasted his appearance. What you see isn't what you get. That just isn't how it worked with him.

You loved it when he talked. It was rather entertaining as he had a way of telling stories which made you feel like you were actually there when it happened. Eventually, you forgot the reason why you were at the restaurant in the first place. It was as if you went there for the purpose of meeting Sukuna himself. Satoru was all but forgotten as you dissolved into carefree laughter and playful banters, and you felt at ease and more like yourself around him, pretty much like when you were with your three favorite people in the world.

“It’s not really that funny,” Sukuna told you, watching you laugh heartily at that one episode in his freshmen year when he made a mistake of going on a date with the wrong girl who happened to have the same name as his supposed date. You continued to laugh as if he didn’t say anything.

“It’s just crazy that both of them were there at the same time. I mean, what were the odds?”

He parked by the sidewalk in front of your house, killing the engine. “That’s the reason why I have never agreed to a single blind date ever again.” He pulled the key out of the ignition, glancing at the direction of your house. “We’re here.”

Your laughter died down when you followed the direction of his gaze. The lights were off except for the one lighting up the porch of the house you shared with your friends. You returned your gaze to him then. “Thanks for driving me home. Again.”

“I enjoyed your company. It’s the least I can do.”

You smiled warmly at him, reaching over to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek when he suddenly turned his head a fraction towards you. That minute change made your lips end up against his instead. He was surprised at first and remained immobile against you, but when you pulled away, he chased you back, connecting your mouths, his lips feeling soft and warm yet emitting that air of dominance as it coaxed yours to move in sync with his. You were kissing him back in no time, but you immediately caught yourself and withdrew, utterly flustered.

Your heart thudded heavily as he held you in his intense gaze, his tongue slowly running over his lower lip, making you even more mentally incapacitated. It made you want to just pull him back to you and covet those lips with yours again. You snapped out of it though. You already knew he was capable of hot-wiring and hijacking your brain.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you told him when you were able to form words again.

Sukuna looked at you from under his lashes, smiling slightly. “I’m not.”

Taken aback, you chuckled nervously. “No?”

He shook his head, reached over and ruffled your hair a bit. “Go inside. It’s late.” You nodded and disembarked from the car while he leaned on the steering wheel, watching you. You were already on the pavement, about to close the door, when he spoke again. “Can I come see you again?”

“Sure,” you said without thinking. “Good night, Sukuna.” Man, you just loved saying his name.

“Bye, Y/N. Good night.”

He drove away while you made your way towards your doorstep. Your fingers flew to your lips once you were standing on your porch, smiling to yourself at the realization of having kissed him. Shaking your head, you fished for the keys from your pocket and entered the house, not quite remembering how you got to your room, but you slept that night with pleasant dreams of running your fingers through pink locks of hair.

***

"I'm really sorry. Something came up and my phone died."

You acceded. It wasn’t as if Satoru did something so big. You went to the outdoor kiosks near the parking lot by the football grounds to catch up on some reading while Satoru ate and told you bits of his past few days, since he got held up at their family estate. Having such a traditional, high-ranking family in the country sure had its downsides, and you weren't about to make him even more agitated than he already was. He had it difficult, you knew that, and you weren’t about to be petty over him not coming to your supposed bonding time. He may be happy-go-lucky but you felt tension simmering just under the surface when you squeezed his hand in assurance.

Suguru and Ieiri followed shortly after Satoru fetched you from class, also surprised to see him there. "So, you finally decided to show up," the former said.

"Don't ask," Satoru said.

"Wasn't planning to," Suguru scoffed, his attention shifting to you. “What are you working on anyway?” he asked, flipping the file you were reading haphazardly to peer through the contents.

“I’m making an analysis report on ‘The Romantic Manifesto’.” you answered, looking up from the notes you were writing when your eyes suddenly strayed over his shoulder. You almost did a double-take, glancing at Suguru before returning your line of vision at the spot beyond where he sat.

“It’s due…” your voice trailed off when you realized just what, or rather who, you were looking at. You weren’t so sure whether what you were seeing was real or a mirage, a very familiar, specific and detailed one, but then, you figured it was the former when the person smirked and cocked his head to the side, beckoning you over to where he leaned against his grey Jeep as he raised a cup of what looked like cherry blossom tea.

Suguru arched a brow at you, looking behind him but not really noticing the object of your distraction. “Hey, you okay?”

Ieiri followed the direction of your gaze and nudged you when she saw who you were looking at. "Is that your Howard? Damn, girl. He’s sizzling."

You nodded, but at that same moment, you rose from the table without any explanation, your feet immediately leading you towards the outdoor carpark. When you were within earshot, you said, “What are you doing here?”

You stopped a few feet from him, glancing behind you to where the others had already turned their heads to follow the path you took, flashing you shit-eating grins. It wouldn’t surprise you anymore if they had pieced together who the person was before you. They claimed to be your ‘parents’ but acted like children at times.

“I brought you tea.” Sukuna walked towards you, standing so close that you forgot how to breathe for a few seconds as you inhaled his scent and took in his appearance, looking immaculate in a plain white shirt and faded jeans, but your brain only seemed to register those lips and the memory of how they felt against yours.

You shook your head, snapping out of your trance, mentally cursing at yourself. “Hi.” You exhaled loudly, trying hard not to smile like an idiot while you absently twirled your hair on your finger, suddenly seeing the world through a pinkish filter. "How do you keep finding me?"

Sukuna's smile dropped. “Did I come at an inconvenient time?” he asked gently, trying hard not to sound miffed, but he obviously was taken aback by your words.

“No.” You shook your head, placing a hand over your forehead. You finally smiled at him, letting out a choked snicker. “No, Sukuna. It’s good to see you. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. And you didn't really tell me you were coming.”

He grinned at you then but he still appeared unsure, placing a hand behind his neck. “Right.”

You flashed him a helpless look. “Please don’t look at me like that. I’m just really surprised.”

“Hmm." He moved closer to you, wrapping your hand around the transparent disposable cup. His proximity was affecting you in ways you couldn't admit out loud. "Are you happy to see me, too?"

"Too? So, you're happy to see me?"

"Always."

That's it. You're done for. Trying to avoid his intense gaze and escaping his scrutiny, you glanced over your shoulder to find everyone on your table observing you blatantly. Satoru raised a thumb at you while Ieiri was giggling with Suguru.

"Are those your friends?" Sukuna commented, his minty breath fanning against the side of your face which made you turn a little too quickly to face him again only to be confronted by his face leaning towards yours, mere centimeters away.

“Y-yeah.” You leaned a bit backwards but he moved forward. “That they are.” You stepped backwards again, nearly faltering on your feet, but you immediately gained your balance when he grabbed you by the arm, steadying you.

"Are you alright?" Sukuna asked, looking at you with concern written all over his face which morphed into wonder when you said, "Yeah, you're just overwhelming."

"Huh?"

"I can't think properly when I'm around you," you stated casually, your expressions not giving anything away as per usual. You arched a brow at him when he did the same. "You hot-wire my brain."

"I know what you mean." He smirked despite his confusion. "Is that good or bad?"

You eyed him thoughtfully, biting on your lower lip. "Good for you, bad for me. You can probably tell me to eat dirt and I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He chuckled, looking at you tenderly. "You're too honest."

"To a fault," you agreed, "Suguru tells me all the time. Wanna meet them?"

He ruffled your hair. "Sure."

***

While you weren't exactly expecting to see Sukuna again after the night you met, he became of constant presence around you. You have gone out with him several times over the course of two months. He was a busy person and you also had your priorities, but he always makes you feel special whenever you two would be out and about, behaving like such a gentleman opening and closing doors for you, naturally shifting closer to traffic while you walked, bringing an extra jacket in case you felt cold or a larger umbrella so you don't get wet, bringing you your favorite tea whenever he could.

He picked you up from school for lunch twice, making the most of the hour, and one time, you brought him lunch at work when he suddenly canceled on you, saying he was swamped with work. He sounded really upset so you decided to go to him instead. You brought Suguru with you as a buffer, but Sukuna's colleagues still teased him. He was different in the office – gruff and strict which fitted him more – but he still beamed at you happily when you brought him food, not caring who saw.

Apart from the brief phone calls, you two never really texted. It wasn't really your thing and he didn't like it either, so it could go days on end without you saying anything to each other, but when you do get a chance to speak, it would always be like picking up on where you've left off. He has only ever sent you two messages. One to remind you to take good care of yourself because he was going to be away for a while and another one a week later asking if you wanted to go out with him that coming Friday night.

"Your timing's off," you told him over the phone. You really wanted to say yes, but, "Ieiri, the boys and I are going out that night. Gang tradition."

"Some other time then?"

"Sure."

You hung up after a few more exchanges of words, getting started on reading some notes when Ieiri entered the kitchen. "Was that Howard?"

"Yeah. He's inviting me to go out on Friday, but I already said yes to clubbing with you guys."

She grinned cheekily, wrapping an arm around you as she poked you on the cheek. At times, it feels like Satoru was rubbing off on her. "Are you sure you don't want to ditch us for the hot architect?"

"Hot architect –" You snickered. "Did you just say that?"

"I was supposed to say 'sugar daddy,' literally and figuratively. Sugar and his cotton candy hair. Get it?"

You narrowed your eyes at her, shaking your head. It was supposed to be amusing, but when Ieiri says it, it just sounds weird. "Can I read in peace now?"

She left you alone, but laughed at your expense.

Friday couldn't have rolled around fast enough and you headed out with your friends at the club owned by a friend of yours, prepared to party in a pair of tight-fitting jeans, a crop top and your hair hanging about in wavy layers. You were already expecting the place to be cramped as hell given the day of the week so much so that Suguru had to hold onto you tightly so as not to lose you when you entered until you found the area you had reserved for the night. It was for good measure too since the place was drenched in purple, blue and green laser lights which were disorienting at first. And so, your night began as such.

You were in the middle of dancing, only pausing when you had to down your nth shot for the night when your eyes suddenly strayed to the bar area at the elevated part of the club adjacent to the the leather seats. You looked away but returned your gaze towards said direction when you realized this very familiar guy was looking at you. He was watching you as you danced and let loose, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You craned your neck, looking back and thinking the guy looked a lot like Sukuna, but then he couldn’t be. He was engaged elsewhere, still you continued to ogle him until you were pretty sure it wasn’t the same person. But the longer you looked, the more it was being proven to you that it was him.

That lopsided smile drew itself across his lips, seeing as how you were doubting yourself about his identity. There was no mistaking that look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to sparkle whenever he smiled even if the action didn't belong there.

“Sukuna?” you mouthed his name and he nodded, motioning for you to come over with his head. It had been a solid ten days since you last saw him, and for some reason, your heart raced at the thought of seeing him there.

Without saying a word to the people you were with, you squeezed yourself through the crowd, your feet carrying to the upstairs bar, to Sukuna. It took you a while to traverse the space between you, and when you finally stood before him, all you could do was smile up at him, taking in the soft look about him as he regarded you which were at odds to those fiery eyes that had the capability to turn into bright orbs of light when he beamed down at you.

“Hello, Y/N. Once again, fate has brought you to me,” he said rather dramatically, a smirk drawing itself across his pretty mouth.

Laughter escaped your throat, unable to say anything when you realized that you actually missed him, missed looking at him. Unable to help it, you stood on your toes and reached out to touch his hair, the action surprising the both of you. He eyed you, his expressions that of a half-smile and a look of confusion while you retracted your hands as quickly as you felt his soft locks with your fingertips, wincing at the realization of what you were doing.

At that, he laughed heartily, stealing your hand and pressing it over the side of his head. “Go ahead. I don’t mind you touching me,” he told you, staring into your eyes that you felt like all the air in the room was gone.

You blinked at him, processing what he said and joined in his mirth. “You're here!” You shook your head when it dawned to you that you were stating the obvious. “I’m sorry. How are you, Sukuna?”

“Pink?” he offered and chuckled at his own joke which made your face heat up. “Kidding. I’m great. I missed you these past days. How are you?”

“You did?” You felt your insides melting at his statement, made worse when he nodded to confirm it. “I’m fine. Great. Where have you disappeared to anyway?”

He snickered a your question. “Madrid.”

Your jaw dropped. “As in Spain?”

He nodded. “Had to do something there.”

“Uh-huh.” His words were rather obscure, but you didn’t want to encroach on his private life.

“What are the odds that we’re at the same club?”

“The owner is a friend,” you answered, smiling awkwardly as you glanced at the direction of your friends on the dance floor. You saw all of them looking at you. Suguru winked at you, giving you the thumbs up, making you laugh at his silliness.

“The gang’s all here, I see.”

“What?” You faced Sukuna, finding him leaning close beside you against the metal balustrade. Just then, a waiter passed by holding a whole tray of shots, and before you could duck, he grabbed you by the waist so that you were leaning against him with no quantifiable space between your bodies. Your eyes widened in shock and you froze, your thoughts clouded by the familiar smell of rain in a bamboo forest during Maytime. “T-thanks…”

He hummed in response to your gratitude, but he didn’t let you go. “I didn’t know you enjoyed places like this, too.”

“Why is that?” you asked, feigning ignorance to how close you two were.

"I never pinned you for the party animal type. I kinda developed a fondness for that quiet, nerdy girl sitting at the corner of the pub."

"Not exactly. I prefer Maki's place to be honest but coming here once in a while doesn't hurt. Especially with those three." You frowned slightly at him then as you thought of something. “So, why didn’t you approach me?” You motioned towards the dancefloor. “I'm sure the three-headed monster won't mind if you joined us. You alone?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but aren't you supposed to be hanging out with them?" You grabbed his arm before he could refuse you and started leading him towards where the others were.

However, he had other plans in mind. Again, he hooked an arm around your waist until your back was leaning against him. You eyed him sideways, startled by his actions, but unable to counteract it anyway as you’re just stunned speechless all the while. “You can go back to them, Y/N, but I don’t think I should go with you.”

You turned around, gently easing away from his hold. “Why not? They already know you, and they like you.”

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a party pooper.” He leaned towards you, tilting his head to the side while his lower lip slightly jutted out.

"What are you talking about?” You rolled your eyes at him then snickered.

He eyed you seriously then. “Just in case this is a friends-only affair?”

“Satoru already ruined that by bringing his girls into the mix.” You laughed at him when you saw him hesitate. “Come on, Sukuna. Join us. For me?” You showed him your best impression of puppy-dog eyes. “Pretty please?”

When you saw that he wasn’t budging, you changed your argument. “Fine. Dance with me then.” You didn’t give him any time to contradict you as you took him by the hand and dragged him to the dancefloor.

He was just standing still, looking uncomfortable as you started to groove to the beat, so you took his arms and started moving them until he was moving on his own, finally breaking into that smile. He looked too awkward that you wanted to laugh but decided against it, simply raising your hands and feeling the music.

“Aren’t you having fun?” you asked him as you were bobbing your head to the bass.

“I am!” he answered above the music.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun. Are you shy?” You chuckled openly at that.

“No.”

“You don’t dance?”

“I can dance.”

You giggled. “Then show me what you’ve got!”

Without a warning, he started moving in sync with you, taking your hands in his and finally letting loose in such a graceful manner as you both got into the beat and started waving and swaying against one another, his hands slowly running at your sides in sensual rhythms that got you reeling in excitement. You almost forgot that you were with other people as you danced with him. It was fun and it felt good to be that carefree, not minding your friends, drinks flowing in nonstop.

Soon, the group you’ve left joined you and Sukuna. They all greeted him excitedly while the boys exchanged high-fives with him as they were dancing. Satoru and the two girls who were with him also joined in and somewhere along that, Suguru offered everyone cigarettes, and you gladly took one when you saw Sukuna taking one as well. You didn’t really smoke on a regular basis but you didn’t exactly shy away from the so-called cancer sticks.

After taking another shot, you pulled Sukuna out of the dancefloor, hollering at the others as you raised your cigarette, signaling where you were going in case they wanted to come with. You made your way to the smoking area at the veranda situated at the back of the building with the older male in tow. You were pretty much buzzed, calming down from the high you had while dancing, grinning wide as the cool night air met you, making your lungs expand as you breathed in.

Sukuna watched you as he took his place against the banister, following him shortly as you produced a lighter from your pocket, something that you always carried just in case.

“You smoke?” he asked, toying with his own battered stick, twirling it around his long fingers.

“Sometimes,” you admitted, watching his reaction. “And you?”

“Not really.”

“You took one anyway.” You wedged the item in question between your lips and raised the lighter, but before you could light it, it was pulled out from your mouth and the next thing you knew, Sukuna was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours as he pulled you closer by the hips which he seemed to have a fixation for since you came up to him. It was a soft yet urgent kiss that cajoled you to respond, and not long after, your lips were submissive clouds moving to the will of the wind that was his luscious mouth.

Like the first time you felt his lips against yours, electricity ran through your body as if he was touching you elsewhere apart from your mouth. It was driving you off the edge of sanity, and you knew you’d probably jump off a cliff for the male. He grinned at your dazed state when your eyes met after he finally pulled away, showing you the cigarette that was supposed to be between your lips before he unceremoniously laid claim to them.

“You’re going to ruin your lips by smoking. I’m keeping this,” he told you.

You were too mesmerized with the tingling feeling in your mouth while your eyes stayed glued to his as you blinked slowly, your mind and heart racing at a thousand miles per second. “W-why would you do that?” you stammered, feeling your throat go so dry that you had to drag the words out.

“Apart from the fact that it’s terribly unhealthy, it ruins your sense of smell and taste.” He waved the cigarette in front of you before shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. “Scientific fact.”

You couldn’t quite process what he was saying. You were asking why he kissed you, but he misunderstood. “Are you going to taser me with your lips every single time I’m about to smoke?”

“Taser…” He chuckled and narrowed his eyes at you. “I might just if it means these dangerous things don’t touch your pretty mouth.”

“What the –” You didn’t know if you would be scandalized by what he said or if you were going to laugh. The latter won and you tittered. “That’s a good one.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

Boldness engulfed your whole thought process as you stepped closer to him, looking straight into his eyes. “And if I insist on it? Placing dangerous things in my pretty mouth? What are you going to do then?”

He, too, leaned forward, eyes flicking to your lips. “Then I guess I just have to keep your mouth too busy to even think about smoking again,” he whispered to you, his breath hitting your lips.

You smirked at him then. “I guess I just have to make sure you aren’t around if I do feel like smoking.”

He pouted. You burst out laughing.

You reached over and pinched both of his cheeks. “You’re so adorable.”

Sukuna swatted your hands away, but smiled nonetheless. "You're the only one who says I'm adorable."

"You are. You just don't know it."

“Okay then. If you say so.” He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear then, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Not really.”

“Good. I wanna do something for you.”

You eyed him questioningly. “Hmm. What?”

“That’s a surprise.”

It was already around two in the morning when everyone had the unanimous decision to leave the club which was still packed. You, too, were getting tired especially after Ieiri ended up hammered and Satoru was emptying his guts through his mouth. Suguru was a bit drunk, too, but he was trying his best to help you take care of them. Sukuna had been very nice all night, even helping you load Satoru and Ieiri into the backseat of Suguru’s car.

“Would you like me to drive you home?” he asked you after shutting the door to the backseat.

“No, I’m gonna be fine. Besides, I can’t just leave Suguru to deal with them both.” You motioned to his Jeep. “You should go ahead, too.”

Sukuna grimaced as he nodded. “I guess that would be for the best. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. You take good care now.”

“You, too, sweetheart.” He stepped forward and pulled you against him, hugging you, enveloping you in his warmth and that scent you loved profusely. “It’s really great seeing you tonight.”

You returned the gesture, smiling up at him as you tried to compose yourself. “It’s great seeing you, too.” You stood on your toes and pecked him on the cheek before giving him a gentle shove towards the car. “See you, Sukuna.”

He waved at you then boarded the car. You watched as it disappeared down the street before turning away to enter the club to get Suguru who was left to settle the bills. You found him seated on one of the couches, finding your way easily since the crowd thinned a bit.

“You okay, dude?” you asked when you reached him. He was pale and he looked like he was going to throw up anytime. “Do you need to go to the restroom?”

He shook his head. “Just get me out of here.”

You chuckled, leading him faster out of the club. You sat him down on passenger side and soothed his back, asking after him again as you started the engine. He said he was fine, laughing when he caught a glimpse of the two who were already passed out on the backseat with Satoru lying on Ieiri’s lap while her head was lolling limply to the side.

The drive was rather short without much cars on the road, but Suguru was still able to squeeze in a conversation, and of all the topics he could broach, it had to be about Sukuna.

“I thought Sukuna will be driving you home,” he began, glancing at you.

“He offered, but I can’t just leave you.”

“That would have been okay.” He glanced at the rearview mirror then, checking on the two, you could only guess. He could be such a mother hen at times. “I think he’s cool.”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s really good-looking,” Suguru threw in with a chuckle. “Just date already.”

You chuckled. “Why don’t you date him instead?”

“Don’t you want to try it out with him?”

“He hasn’t even asked me to date him.”

“Yeah, but he already kissed you –”

“How did you know about that?” you demanded, mortified. Your cheeks were heating up again at the memory of it.

“Well, you’re in a public place.” He laughed. “So, it’s bound to end in dating anyway.”

“Not necessarily.” You turned sideways to look at him. “He’s older after all, not that I see the age gap as a problem. But you know, he might just be passing time.”

“He obviously likes you. If you date him, it’s a win-win situation. You like him, too, you just don’t know it.”

You scoffed. “How can you say that?”

He blew a raspberry. Typical Suguru behavior. “You can be yourself around him. You’re all smiley face around him, too. I saw you. You can’t lie to me.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. You look your best that way. And don’t ever think you are just a pastime. I’ll kill him if he treats you as such.” He smiled knowingly at you. “Besides, you should date properly. Enough with your flings with stupid boys in campus.”

“Okay, dad.” You sighed, trying to contain your excitement. “I do like him though. He’s so nice to me.”

Suguru reached over patting you on the shoulder. “Ah! My daughter is a grown-woman.”

You swatted at his hand, laughing at his antics.

-end of part 1-

If you're curious who Howard Roark is, he's one of my fave literary characters from Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead." He's excellently made. That's it.

Can architect!sukuna please call me "sweetheart," too?

If you want to be included in the tag list, please DM me :) I'll be posting every week (or I'll try to anyway). Someone remind me to post the next chapters please?

Additional notes are available in the masterlist, particularly on the reasons why I wrote some things the way I did. I don't know what I'm trying to prove there, but haha!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES FULLY CREDITED TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

342 notes · View notes

thorfemmes · 4 years

Text

Cloudy

in which harry hates summer storms, but she loves them.

Hi everyone! I know I’m not really a fan account, so please feel free to skip over this post if you don’t want to read fanfic! I’ve decided to take part in @helladirections ‘s Summer Feeling writing challenge, and this is what I came up with! Feedback is greatly appreciated, I’m trying to hype myself up into writing again. Also thank you @jasline-arod for being my beta reader, I love you endlessly!<3

Prompts: summer reading & ice cream

Rated 18+: fluff, SMUT, soft dom!harry, teasing, edging, punishment, impact play, light bondage, condescension kink if you squint, cute aftercare!!!

Word Count: 3.8k

Summer storms were quite melancholy.

Harry supposed he was being a bit dramatic, considering (y/n) loved the rain. If it weren’t for the possibility of getting a cold and the wandering eyes from their surrounding neighbors she would be out dancing and skipping around the backyard in the puddles and mud. But alas, their neighbors were a bit too nosy and she couldn’t afford any sick time off at work right now, so she was using this day to clean the house. Some last minute spring cleaning as she called it.

Harry, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sheets all day with her. The young couple had planned a nice date out for the day: a stroll around the neighborhood, a picnic in the park, maybe some window shopping in the plaza. Their car was currently in the shop so anything they wanted to do would have to be within walking distance -(y/n) really didn’t like Ubering around. Mother Nature apparently had other plans.

Which leads us here. Harry had seen the storm die down and in all of his stubborn brilliance had insisted on making an ice cream run. ‘S just a little drizzle! He maintained. I’ll be back before you know it, Poppet. It turns out “a little drizzle” can easily turn into torrential downpour in the twenty minutes it takes Harry to bike to and from the grocery store. He couldn’t believe his luck, and now as he approached his front door sopping wet and dragging his bike up the steps, he was silently cursing himself for deciding Ben and Jerry’s was worth the trek.

“Babe? Is everything alright?” (Y/n) proffered over the soft music she had put on when he left. She could hear his frustrated grumbles and sighs from the living room and had of course seen the storm pick up.

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart, just a bit wet ‘s all.” Harry griped from the kitchen. He quickly dried off the pints of ice cream and stuck them in the freezer before pouring a bowl of uncooked rice for his cell phone. Flicking off the lights in the kitchen, spotless and dust-free thanks to (y/n), he walked into the living room to find her tucked into the corner of the couch reading a book.

Peering over the pages, her eyes softly danced over her lover -damp and frumpy from the rain outside. He had a slight pout on his face that made her giggle playfully, eyes glittering with nothing but adoration and humor.

“My strong love, fought the rain and thunder just to get his girlfriend ice cream.”

He snorted at her, trying his hardest to hold back a smile. “Think I deserve a prize, don’t you think? It was quite brave of me to go out there, I could’ve gotten swept away by the flood of puddles!”

Her laugh rang like a chime. It was times like this, soft and quiet and domestic, that made his heart skip a beat. She made him delirious and dizzy with love.

“Of course, my love. Your prize is in the bathroom, hanging from the towel rack. I saw the rain pick up and figured you might come home a bit soggy,” She said with a laugh. “Go get changed, when you come back we can lounge about and read together.”

Harry’s heart fluttered as he shuffled out of the living room. When he came back, now changed into a crisp crew neck shirt and some washed worn sweats, he quickly popped over in front of his love. She looked up from the novel in front of her, stars in her eyes. Harry quickly leaned down and showered her in kisses. Anywhere he could reach was covered in smooches. She wiggled and whined playfully as he threw his leg over her waist, but not before grabbing the book and laying it on the coffee table face down. They grappled and playfully dodged kisses until she cried “Alright! Fine you win!” with a ridiculous pout and her hands pinned to the couch under Harry’s grasp.

“You’re so mean,” she pouted through puffs of air.

“Mean ‘m I? Would a mean boyfriend have gone out in the harsh winter storm for-”

“It’s the middle of July!”

“For pints of Chunky Monkey, Phish Food, Karamel Sutra, and Tonight Dough? I don’t think tha’s very mean, d’you?”

Harry swore the sigh she let out sounded harmonious. “No, I suppose not. It sounds like you’re spoiling me, huh?” She tried to loosen his grip again. “Let me up, please?”

He grinned down at her. “Kissy first?”

She leaned up the best she could for a smooch before he let her get back up. Harry laid down on the couch and patted his tummy with the hand not resting under his neck.

“C’mere, let’s read.”

(Y/n) crawled between Harry’s legs and laid between them, her head resting on his soft stomach. “Mm, nice and comfy.”

Harry chuckled with her, loving the warmth and comfort the weight of her gave him. He wrapped an arm around the front of her chest and softly rubbed his thumb over her shoulder.

“Do you want me to start the chapter over?” She asked, perfectly content to reread for him.

“Course not, Petal! Just pick up where you left off, please.”

“ ‘I’m going to America. To seek my fortune.’ (This was just after America but long after fortunes.) ‘A ship sails soon from London. There is great opportunity in America. I’m going to take advantage of it. I’ve been training myself. In my hovel. I’ve taught myself not to need sleep. A few hours only. I’ll take a ten-hour-a-day job and then I’ll take another ten-hour-a-day job and I’ll save every penny from both except what I need to eat to keep strong, and when I have enough I’ll buy a farm and build a house and make a bed big enough for two.’ ”

Harry began to lose focus on the story, instead concentrating on his petal’s voice, soft and clear enough for just the two of them. Almost as if the bubble around them might burst if she spoke too loudly. She began to alter her voice, adding in dashes of accents and key changes as the characters varied. Harry let a heavy breath fall from his nose as he smiled and bit his lip with a smile.

“ ‘Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ ”

Harry held his breath.

“ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were-’ ”

Now, Harry knows he has a very specific taste in literature. And while he may personally prefer obscene prose and Joan Didion, this line -from a novel built on fantasies -was embroidered on his heart in bright yellow thread. The millions of grains of sand could not even begin to embody how dearly and how fiercely he loved her. His heart physically ached at the thought of her; her presence, her laugh, smile, ambition, everything. He loved (y/n) in a way he never imagined possible. Harry could not even begin to fathom a world without her. And if the little velvet box hidden in an old shoe box behind a ton of winter coats in the upstairs closet was anything to go by, he didn’t want to begin imagining it.

“Lovey, are you okay?” (Y/n) spoke up. She noticed him stiffen up immediately after she finished reading that paragraph.

Silence followed her question. She stuck the loose playing card she had found into the book to mark her place and gently sat up to shift herself in his lap, setting the book down on the coffee table again. Harry was pulled from his thoughts of navy blue suits and white lace gowns when she softly called his name again and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Is everything alright Harry? You zoned out for quite a while there.”

Harry looked at the heavenly sight in front of him. Her hair was a bit mussed up from the cleaning and the sweat that had no doubt appeared in the slightly humid house. She sat in an old cropped cotton shirt that proudly touted a faded improv club logo from college on it (she had gone to one meeting and of course it was the meeting where they gave out free t-shirts) with wrinkles and dried stains from cleaning spray. Her gray pajama shorts had little line drawings of bumble bees on them, and were currently riding up her thighs as they sat straddling Harry’s hips. He dragged his eyes to look at her face. He swore she was glowing in the grayish sunlight streaming from the windows. Little moles and freckles and acne scars dotted across her makeup-less face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were gaped open slightly in worry as his silence continued.

Harry finally, finally took in a breath (he desperately needed it, he didn’t realize she had literally stolen his breath away) and mumbled “ ‘M fine, petal. I just love you so much,” and with that closed the all too wide gap between them.

Her eyes widened just a bit more before kissing back, her eyes fell closed and her hands held tightly to his cheeks. Harry swore the kiss was meant to be gentle, but then he found himself nibbling on her bottom lip and soothing the slight sting with his tongue when she whined against him. She pulled away breathlessly and looked over his face, now flushed crimson with their movements.

“I love you too!” She breathily laughed. “Let’s-”

Her thoughts were lost as Harry began to kiss a trail from below her ear and down her neck, one hand squeezing her soft hip and the other holding her head in place as she squirmed (she was a bit ticklish). He sucked and softly bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder as she let out a faint moan at the attention being given to the sensitive skin. She ran her fingers through his loose curls and gently led his head back up to meet her lips. She tenderly rolled her hips against his -his hands quickly following the motion.

“Ah, fuck baby. You’re so fuckin’ sexy m’love,” Harry groaned against her lips. They were breathing in each other's air, hips thrusting against the other and hands grasping at fabric and anywhere they could grab. Harry lowered his hand to cup her hot pussy over her shorts, rubbing his palms against her clothed clit.

“Mmf, please Harry please!” She wanted him so badly, she was this close to ripping his clothes off at the seams.

“What d’you want baby girl? Hmm? Ask me nicely ‘nd maybe I’ll give it to you.”

The air shifted between them. She knew he would give her whatever she wanted, but the power was now in his corner. She whined loudly and bucked her hips up as he teased the waistband of her shorts.

“Don’t be a brat, petal. You won’t like the outcome.” Harry grinned up at her, running his thumb over her bottom lip that had stuck out with a pout. “Why don’t we run upstairs so I can fuck you properly. Tha’ is unless you want to stay down here with a sore bum ‘nd nothin’ else? Hmm, petal?”

“Harry, I swear if you don’t do something I’m going to screa- ah!” Harry’s hand came down on her ass with a loud smack!

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as she scrambled off of his lap and up the stairs to their “guest” bedroom, Harry not far behind. Harry giggled at her antics. Of course he wasn’t planning on leaving her needy and wanting, but she was being bratty and he couldn’t have that now could he?

(Y/n) all but threw herself onto their bed and ripped off her clothing, absolutely desperate for whatever Harry threw her way. She’d ride his thigh if that’s all he’d give her. She was that needy right now.

She scrambled up the bed and sat down with her legs crossed, patiently waiting as Harry stood at the foot of the bed.

“I think 10 swats on your bum are an appropriate punishment for you steppin’ out of line. Don’t you think, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) watched as he walked around the side of the bed. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of shea butter lotion and the pretty pink ribbon she was all too familiar with.

“Lay down on your tummy, petal,” Harry said, setting everything on the table.

(Y/n) quickly laid down, grabbing her pillow and nestling her cheek into it. Harry grabbed one of the extra pillows and shoved it under her hips. He then pulled off the t-shirt and shrugged off his sweats, leaving him in a pair of heather gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

“You’ve such a pretty bum, sweetheart. ‘M so excited to see it marked up with my hand marks,” Harry caressed and massaged her cheeks carefully. “Count aloud for me, lovie.”

(Y/n) was about to answer when Harry’s hand came down on her left cheek, hard. “One!” She squeaked out.

“D’you know why you’re bein’ punished, lovie?” Smack!

“Ah! Two! Yes sir! I was being bad earlier. I was being naughty and begging without saying please!”

Harry rubbed over the sore area. “Very good, baby. Are you going to do it again?” Smack! Smack! Smack! Three spanks came in succession.

“Three! Fou-, Four! Five! No, Sir! I won’t!” She squirmed and hid her face in the pillow as her grip tightened on the material. She was a bit embarrassed at the fact that she was already getting teary eyed, but it had been a second since she'd been punished like this.

Harry paused and moved her hair out from around her face. “How are you doin’ (Y/n)? Gimme a color, please.”

“Green, Harry. I’m good, please keep going.” She wiggled and lifted her ass up towards Harry's other hand.

“Okay, lovie. Just makin’ sure.” Harry quickly kissed her cheek then pushed her head back into the pillow. She moaned loudly at the forcefulness.

The rest of the spanks came and went, leaving both of them breathless and stinging. Harry reached up and grabbed (Y/n) by the hair to pull her on all fours, his other hand removing the pillow from under her hips before running his fingers over her pussy.

“Y’not gonna do tha’ again, are you, petal?” He said smugly.

“No sir,” She hiccupped.

A jolt ran through her as he gathered her wetness and began circling her clit with two fingers.

“So sensitive, petal. Bet you almost came jus’ from me spankin’ you. Maybe you don’ need my cock after all? Maybe I should jus’ take care of myself and leave you here, what d’you think, petal? ”

She let out a pitiful moan. (Y/n)’s whole body was shaking; she was desperately trying not to come, her arms were shaking from holding herself up, and her breath was shaking from the stimulation of it all. She was almost there, almost ready to come when Harry suddenly let go of her hair and stopping playing with her pussy. Her arms gave out under her as she whined desperately at the loss of stimulation.

“Please! No, don’t leave me!” She sobbed. “I need it! Please give me your cock sir! I’ll be so good, I won’t come without askin’ please! Ple-”

“Okay, shh baby. Shh, ‘m gonna make y’feel so good. Y’such a good girl f’me.”

Harry leaned down and kissed up her spine gently. As he reached the base of her neck he grabbed the pink ribbon and ran it teasingly over her shoulders. “Color?”

She sniffled a bit before answering confidently, “Green, sir.”

“Tha’s my girl.” He pulled her up so she was kneeling and grabbed her arms, skillfully tying a cute little bow around her wrists. She wiggled a bit to make sure it was comfortable. Once she was settled, Harry pushed her back down into the pillow.

“What a sight. Must’ve been savin’ this for a rainy day, huh petal?”

She snorted at his joke but was quickly silenced by his finger sinking into her pussy. She hissed at the sensation, already a bit sensitive from the first orgasm he denied her.

“Y’always so warm for me, lovie. So warm ‘n tight. Can’t wait for my cock, can you?”

She whined and pushed back on his fingers as he added another, thrusting in and curling to find her g-spot. “Please! I’ve been so good, I’m ready!”

He chuckled at her begging, letting his thumb pet over her clit again before pulling his fingers out of her after one final thrust. “Y’think you’re ready, baby girl? I know I am.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Harry used the wetness he had gathered from fingering her and stroked himself a few times, exhaling heavily as some pressure was finally released. He grabbed the ribbon where her wrists were tied and lined himself up, pushing gently into her soaked cunt.

They both released a guttural moan as he moved in her; her walls tightening around him and his length rubbing inside her perfectly.

As she felt him bottom out she let out a sob that was stuck in her chest. “Fu-ck. Thank you! You feel so fuck-fucking good!” He growled in response, reaching around and playing with her clit again while he waited for her to get accustomed to his size. She choked out another moan and squirmed, crying “Please! You can move now, please fuck me!”

He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained in her cunt, and then thrusted back in experimentally. Her moan spurred him on, allowing him to continue to set a slow and rough pace.

“Holy fuck, bunny. Y'feel so good,” Harry grit through his teeth. “I love this fuckin’ cunt, this ‘s all fo’ me, huh?”

She moaned and nodded as she squeezed his cock as tight as she could like a good girl. She wanted to behave, be his good girl. (Y/n) wiggled her hands at him as he continued to thrust. He got the hint and laced his fingers with hers. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a moan as his thrusting sped up. He loosened one of his hands from her grasp to reach down and stroke her button of nerves.

She wailed in response, tears brimming in her eyes again from the overwhelming sensations attacking her. Harry was all that existed. He surrounded her, stopped playing with her bundle of nerves and reached his hand up to wrap around her neck, pulling her up to meet his kisses. All she could feel, smell, taste as he paused thrusting to slide his tongue into her mouth before slamming back into her and letting her drop back into the pillow.

“Sh-shit baby girl. I can feel y'squeezin me, you’re almost there aren’t you?” She nodded in response, unable to form words. “Hold it jus’ a bit longer, I know you can do it. Fo’ me please, petal. Wanna feel tha’ cunt come with me.”

She shuddered as she fought to hold her orgasm back. Her cunt clenched and dripped down her thighs as Harry pounded into her as quickly as he possibly could without hurting either of them.

“N-now! Come now, petal! Give it to me, baby. Come for me!”

(Y/n) came with a shout, her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Her whole body clamped down onto Harry’s cock as she came and came and came. Her orgasm pulled Harry’s out of him, milking him for everything he had. One final thrust had him filling her with his cum, both moaning at the feeling of her pussy being filled even more.

She slumped into the pillow, body feeling like pudding. Harry leaned over her as they both took a moment to catch their breaths, both spent and relaxed after their afternoon delight. Harry recovered first, gently pulling out of her cunt. She clenched around him as he left her, almost as if she was inviting him to stay.

He quickly untied her wrists, mind set on dealing with his spilled seed later. He delicately rubbed the tender area, gently kissing the indentations.

“Y’did so good for me, (Y/n), thank you baby,” he whispered to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes, the afterglow finally settling in. She hummed in acknowledgment of his praise, smiling softly at him. “I’ll be ri’ back, petal. I’ve gotta go grab stuff to clean you up.”

He ran as quickly as possible to grab water bottles and snacks from downstairs, before stopping for a wet washcloth and a change of clothes for her on the way back. He set the food and spoons on the bedside table before cracking open a water bottle for her.

“Can you sit up a mo’? I know your bum’s a bit sore.” He helped her sit up enough to drink the water he gave her. As she gulped down the water, thankful for the cool drink to sooth her heated throat, he gently wiped up the mess he made of her pussy. He ran and tossed the cloth into their ensuite sink, quickly returning to his love.

“Can I rub some shea butter on your bum and wrists? It’ll help with the soreness, lovie.”

She sleepily nodded before asking “Could you please pull my hair back? It’s sweaty and itchy now.”

He laughed at her cloudy state and grabbed one of their scrunchies off of the dresser and carefully tied up her hair. He then pumped some lotion into his hands, warmed it slightly and guided her to lay down on her tummy again so he could soothe the red marks. After a few moments, when her fogginess had cleared and they were giggling and cracking jokes as he jiggled her bum in his hands, he helped her get up and walk to the toilet so she could relieve and redress herself before heading to their bedroom with the snacks.

(Y/n) climbed into bed, mindful of her sore bum, and excitedly grabbed the remote to turn on a movie for the couple to unwind to. Harry followed closely with two pints of ice cream and spoons -Chunky Monkey for her and Karamel Sutra for himself. They giggled again and settled down under the blanket as the opening scene to Clueless started on their television.

Taking a bite of the ice cream, (Y/n) looked over at her boyfriend. “Hey Har?” He looked at her, mouth full. “Thank you for getting us ice cream even though there was a storm. And for letting me read to you. I hope you enjoyed your prize.” She winked at him with a huge grin.

Heartily laughing, he leaned over and landed a loud smooch onto her cheek. “Of course, anything for you my love.”

As she cuddled into his side, snacking on ice cream and watching this cheesy rom-com, he knew he needed to find a reason to excuse himself to the closet that evening.

#oh shit i did it #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles fluff #soft dom!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry x y/n #harry style x y/n #fanfic #fic #writing #harry styles

1K notes · View notes

bansept · 3 years

Text

Ichihime Week | Day 2: Lovers

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

The room is quiet once again, cold, hard marble floor reflecting the sunrise behind the huge glass windows. She would hide if it was necessary: hide from any photographers, anyone barging through the massive yet stylish sleek brown door, or perhaps even some neighbors able to see the two of them in bed like that. But thankfully, there is no such thing as neighbors for Ichigo.

Ichigo Kurosaki, her once high school crush, with his angry scowl, fighting tendencies and terrible frequentations. A young man, still halfway just a boy, who was still mourning the death of his mother, still fighting depression, still trying to figure out how things worked. That Ichigo, who would help save her without a second of hesitation when a rival gang had taken her away, playing gangsters. Oh, she had fallen for him so hard… From so high. Not because he was a mysterious man and had muscles. Because he was kind, caring, loving under this mask of indifference.

She was too much of a coward at the time to ask him anything. Even requesting a pen in this big, boring and dusty classroom was something she couldn’t imagine asking. So, for 2 years, she stayed silent, lovingly looking after him as a simple acquaintance.

School was over soon. Ichigo had to move to Tokyo, for a family business she had heard, and she would stay in Karakura Town. Orihime had been ready to say goodbye, to never see him again, because what were the odds? Ichigo had nothing holding him back in the small town. He’d go, live his life, get new friends, new enemies surely… Another girl would be in love with him, and Orihime was fine with that truth.

The last afternoon of her high school days, opening her locker to retrieve her walking shoes, she noticed a small piece of paper that had been slipped between the small gap, still hanging loosely from a corner, rumpled. In the golden light of the fading sun, she had felt, deep in her stomach, in her bones, her heart, a warm breath.

Please keep a room in your heart for me, just like I’ll keep a room in mine for you.

I. K

Ichigo Kurosaki had not changed in the 7 years of his absence. Instead, he had matured into a tall, lean, muscular and calm-looking adult, the fury of fight faded in his eyes. His scowl was usually gone, unless some piece of news made him grumble incoherent curses. The orange spikes, untamable at the time, had been cut short. She never thought she could like that type of style, being so used to the unruly hair, but she had been terribly wrong.

In 7 years… Ah, in 7 years he had learned so much. How to dress in a suit, the suffocation he had claimed from wearing a tie as a student transformed into a preferred style, the capacity to rapidly think to discern the best thing to say instead of rushing to a conclusion. The steady, deep voice. The small chuckles. The curt smiles. The eyes… As if they had witnessed a supernova from up close, and, with infinite patience, had gathered the wisdom raining from it. He was… Ichigo. But the grown version.

She loved him even more.

They met again at a student’s reunion, one of those sometimes boring, sometimes time-wasting events. Orihime had of course expected to turn in, say hello, munch a few cakes and then go back home and enjoy the upcoming weekend after a long week of work. She was supposed to relax, but the moment she turned around to wave goodbye, Ichigo had appeared next to her, curious eyes asking her if she had read.

‘Read what?’ She wanted to ask, lost for a second. But, of course, she remembered. Actually, she never forgot about it.

After 7 years of no talking, not seeing each other, not even knowing if the other would still remember, she looked up in his eyes and nodded, small but sure.

“I did. I kept a place.”

Maybe it was his smile. Maybe it was his hands. Or his body. Or himself. Orihime couldn’t tell, but something pushed her to fall into his arms that night. And all the other nights after that.

He stirred next to her, a gruff grunt as he placed his head far into the pillow, hands digging in the sheets to hide his eyes from the awful rays of light that had pulled him from his sleep. Orihime turned her face to watch him, chuckling.

Ichigo in a suit was a sight, but Ichigo bare was a wonder to the eyes. While she had rather light skin, his was rapidly turning golden when he sun-bathed too long. And when he was tanned, the strong muscles everywhere on his body rolled deliciously, inviting her to touch him, much like she was compelled to do so.

Orihime laid back down next to him, staring at him up and down, one hand timidly touching his shoulder.

“What time is it?” He asked, voice low and barely audible. Orihime looked around, the small digital numbers on the alarm clock indicating he had a good few hours before having to head to yet another business lunch.

“Only 8. You know, maybe we could go meet your sisters tonight? They haven’t seen you in quite some time.” Ichigo opened a lazy eye and nodded. Yuzu and Karin were done with high school by now, and starting their own studies. Karin was interested in being a lawyer, which had turned out to be quite the surprise. Yuzu wanted to take after her father, and had entered medical school. Last he had heard, she was enjoying it. They were growing up, and even if he had hoped they could remain small and gentle for a bit more, he was proud of them.

“Yeah… We’ll go. They will be happy to see you too.” He smiled, a sweet thing he did a lot around her. Orihime curled her arms around his navel, and he brought her on top of him, cuddling her to his chest. They stayed silent for just a few moments, Ichigo waking up slowly, opening and closing his eyes, and Orihime stretching her arms and legs like a cat after a nap.

“…When we see them, I’d like to present you as my girlfriend.” He croaked, voice catching in his throat, shaky and expecting the worst.

For a year now, they had been rolling around with each other. Sleeping together, caring for each other, taking the other for a date, but never saying the three words they died to mutter. Had it been only for the sex, it wouldn’t have lasted. Had it been with a stranger, neither would have even started this relationship. But… It was different. They knew the other like the back of their hand, what they liked, didn’t like, could live without, couldn’t. This pining that had lasted for years, this hesitation that bored holes into their souls had been enough for them to try something new. And now that they lied with the other every night, cooked for the other, shared a life really, Ichigo felt he could ask this question. Suggest her this option.

He was a busy man now, interested in English literature in his free time while he built a small enterprise from scratch. She was about to have her teaching degree. That was quite the leap between them, but neither cared.

Orihime looked down at him, gaze falling in his own. How cute, heart-touching was it that such a powerful man feared something so evident. It brought a blush to her radiant face, and she kissed his lips with a small chuckle.

“Of course. I would love to have you as my boyfriend, my sweet Ichigo.”

He was the one to blush at her words, relief in his brown eyes as he kept her closer to him for a few more hours.

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

Day 2!

Phew this one was tough to write... The meaning of "Lovers" can vary to so many different things, and my brain was thinking of several situations at the same time... I wanted to be a troll first and write something about what they liked, for example, some type of food... But decided against it.

Then my time was cut short and I decided to go with a safe AU-like writing.

Hope you enjoyed it! See you tomorrow for day 3!

#bleach #ichihime #ihweek2021 #ichigo kurosaki #orihime inoue #ichigo x orihime

59 notes · View notes

dajaregambler · 3 years

Text

HeliosR - Victor Valentine Card story ‘‘Seeking for what’s frightening’’

Translation of Victor Valentine’s 4* ‘’Gothic Halloween’’ card story from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.

Gray: Uwah, amazing… Did you make this, Victor-san…?

Victor: Yes, this robot was built by me. I’m occupied with pouring all my time into producing these for the upcoming Halloween League.

Gray: I had assumed you were leaning more towards biochemistry… But to be able to build robots too, that’s seriously amazing...

Victor: As you thought my area of expertise is chemistry, however if I had to be honest, I barely have the confidence to manufacture these…

Victor: And on top of it, I had been also struggling with the design itself...

Gray: Eh… Wondering if it has enough punch to it, you mean… I already think it’s scary enough as is though....

Victor: Adding that pinch of “scary” has been considerably difficult. I’ve been making these as requested by Marion, but as far as the details go, I’ve only received how it should be thematically based on “evil spirits of Halloween”.

Victor: Naturally I have referred to literature to form a general outline on the matter, but what traits resemble an “evil spirit”, about it having a factor of “spookiness” to it... No matter how far I go with investigating the matter, I simply cannot draw the line where it’d be most suitable.

Gray: Like evil spirits… spookiness….

Victor: What is your impression of it, Gray? Do you think it’s able to represent those traits of an “evil spirit”?

Gray: Eh? Eeeh… uh, um…

Victor: Please do not hold yourself back, and be as candid as you can.

Gray: Be as candid as I can… Right, right...

Gray: Whether or not it looks like one, I can say that it’s absolutely close but… Um… on the contrary, it might actually be a bit too scary...

Gray: H-how do I say this… It’s like originally you were going for CERO A but ended up heading towards CERO D instead…?

Victor: CERO……? What may that be?

Gray: Ah… awawah, sorry…. I used a game rating system for scale… a Japanese one too…

Gray: The Halloween League is an event that children will attend, in terms of gaming that would be for an event for all ages...

Gray: But, as of now it feels more that it’s heading towards a more mature audience… So I was thinking all like, how about aiming for a younger one instead~... but please don’t mind it too much...

Victor: Hmm, I see…That is very interesting, or I should rather say an intriguing point of view.

Victor: I will do as you said and make an attempt to aim for a younger demographic, however with how it has been currently going, I don’t quite have the grasp on what I should do to change it.

Victor: If you don’t mind, could you tell me more about video games for all ages to use as a reference point going forward?

Gray: !! O-ofcourse…!

Victor: Hooh.... Even though it’s shortly summed up as for all ages, there seems to be quite a variety of video games.

Gray: For now I kept it limited and looked up horror games that came to mind… You’d come across even more games if you were to look it up

Gray: Uuum… if you’re looking for a game that has enemies that are “evil spirit”-like, then maybe this one…?

Victor: Yes, that kind of caricature is good. It gives an impression closely resembling the ones in animation for children.

Gray: P-personally I think it’s good if it’s as scary as these enemy characters here but… That is for you to decide...

Victor: Hmm…. If I were to judge from your perspective, would this be more scarier?

Gray: Eh? Yes… it, would be….?

Gray: I feel, that the difference is pretty obvious but… you don’t seem to think so, Victor-san?

Victor: Indeed. Even though we’re going in a different direction, I don’t feel that any of them are frightening, thus making it difficult to judge.

Gray: R-right…

Gray: Uh… I’m just asking this out of curiosity but… Is there, something that you’re scared of, Victor-san…?

Victor: Something that I’m scared of?

Gray: Ah, aaah, uuum, it’s just… it’s okay if it’s too hard to answer, or if you don’t want to! I suddenly asked something weird anyway, I’m sorry….

Victor: Fufu, what are you apologizing for? I don’t believe it was odd by any means.

Victor: Something I’m scared of… you ask? I haven’t played any video games before so on that matter I have nothing to say, and in regards to horror movies I don’t recall being frightened once.

Gray: Eh… so you’re like, totally fine with ghosts and demons and all that…?

Victor: More that I don’t believe in such things due to my point of view as a scientist, rather than being fine with it.

Victor: Well, realistically speaking “Ghosts believing scientists” such as Nova are not too uncommon out there.

Victor: I do want to believe in the possibility of it… Unfortunately, I have yet to see a theory that justifies it to begin with.

Gray: Wah… you’re amazing, Victor-san…. Makes me a bit embarrassed given how I accidentally believe in anything...

Victor: No, I wouldn’t say that I am. I do occasionally envy those who are able to simply enjoy horror movies as is.

Gray: Is that so…?

Victor: Do you have any issues when it comes to horror and occult, Gray?

Gray: Aah, no… I’ve built up a tolerance for it because of games that are full of it...

Gray: Besides, I think… humans are scarier than any ghost or demon, 100 times more scarier even….

Victor: Human themselves…. For example, such as Asch Albright?

Gray: !! Eh, eeeeh…. yes… His name alone makes me sweat bullets, weirdly enough...

Gray: But, not just A….sch, but I’m scared of coming in contact with other people in general...

Gray: Even before talking to them actually, like what if they hate me…. what if they think I’m weird… that’s all I end up thinking about

Victor: Which means that you are currently feeling the same sense of dread when talking to me this moment?

Gray: T-that’s right… Aaah, but, you’re not scary Victor-san… Um, it’s just...

Victor: Yes, I understand. I’ve mentioned it before, but I don’t believe there’s anything odd about you, Gray.

Gray: V-Victor-san….!

Victor: My apologies for getting us sidetracked. Could you lend me your wisdom for a little longer?

Gray: Ah, yes… yes of course!

Nova: Oooh, looks like you made a lotta progress~ Making ghouls and all♪

Victor: I was able to because of the advice I had received from Gray, and so I was finally able to see the light.

Nova: Good pals with Gray-kun now, eh? Well with Ren-kun too but, lately more people have been dropping by your lab. Lookit this celebrity here~♪

Victor: ...You’re surprisingly in a good mood today, aren’t you now?

Nova: Mmh, haven’t slept so I’m feeling somewhat all over the place

Nova: I’ve been absorbed into making these robots too, and before I knew it three whole days had passed~ That scared me real good, yanno

Nova: Wait a second, nobody came to see me in these three days….!? I wanna be a celeb tooooo~!

Victor: How about resting your mind and body, rather than dawdling around here?

Nova: Naaw~ The adrenaline’s coursing through my veins, not feeling tired in the slightest~

Nova: Whatever you say, making these robots is right where I belong. Had lotsa fun doing it too

Nova: Obviously I’m paying enough attention to safety and all that, but there’s more space to feel at ease compared to what I usually do for work….

Nova: Not that I’m forgetting substance research by any means, it’s just pretty nerve-racking when combined with making assets and tools for the heroes to fight with

Nova: Didn’t mean to pay that much mind to it, still it’s a heavy responsibility to have one’s life in your hands...

Nova: Makes me go all like, damn, this fear of failure and what to do about it sure is always growing ain’t it now!~ like some kinda realisation each time, yanno

Victor: ….., fear….

Nova: You’re always doing such a fantastic job, me~

Nova: A Summerfieldtastic job~....

Victor: …….

Nova: Eh, no response!? Here I was putting all my energy into being an idiot, and instead of straight manning me, you straight up ignore me!?

Victor: Aah, my apologies… There was something on my mind.

Victor: What did you say?

Nova: I-I didn’t say a word! Vic’s a dummy! I’m gonna go to my room and sleep! Good-NIGHT!!!

Victor: …..?

Fun trivia corner:

The Japanese game rating goes from CERO A to D, and Z. All ages would be CERO A, for 12 years old and above CERO B, for 15 years old and above CERO C, for 17 years old and above CERO D, and at last CERO Z for 18 and above. The European one is PEGI with age specific ratings (PEGI-3, or PEGI-18) and the American one is ESRB, with letter codes such as T for teen, M for mature, and so on. Helios is rated as 12+ on the Apple app store, that would be CERO A, PEGI-12 or ESRB T.

#heliosR #helios rising heroes #victor valentine #gray reverse

23 notes · View notes

devildom-dedicated-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Afterstory (Diavolo)

Arc 3: The Cursed Witch Seduces the Wild Prince

@karmaaf @mac-the-oregonian @imagine-my-hero-and-vills @lady-naho @viptrash @cinnamon-bisquit xxnio-chanxx @pen-observing I wanna be friends with you, too <3

“Princess … ”

Diavolo cradled your body closer to him. Your warmth seeped out with each second. Stale blood dripped from your wounds.

Diavolo chuckled drily.

Those gentle hands that would pat his head, the calloused but lovely fingers that drove him crazy with each touch--he will never feel them again.

Chuckling became laughing.

His flames blazed brighter and pitch-black smoke rose from earth. Rising higher into the sky, Diavolo’s wings grew and stretched so far they covered the sun and engulfed the city in darkness. From his flames swung out a tail with scarlet scales. It swept across the buildings, killing hundreds and destroying everything.

“Beast!” The humans screamed. “The witch summoned a beast!”

“Witch?” Diavolo repeated.

His maniacal laugh thundered throughout the city.

“You killed her for that?” The woman he loved was a soul who would never use her magic selfishly. You never turned away a patient even when they disrespected you.

The red dragon tenderly gazed at the lifeless body in his hand.

The skin had lost its vigor, scratches covered your face, and the arms …

How long did you suffer? How much did you suffer?

If only … if only he stayed with her.

“Unholy beast!”

Diavolo’s thoughts were interrupted when the human soldiers started shooting arrows at him. One arrow flew past his claws and almost hit your corpse.

The red dragon roared into the sky.

The large city that once bustled with life was reduced to ashes in less than half a day.

Diavolo flew back to your home. When he found the squatters wearing your clothes and the kids trampling the flowers you adored, he almost sent them to the next life. But he sensed the mana that radiated from them. It was your mana.

“Take off the clothes that aren’t yours and leave behind what belongs in this house,” he ordered with glowing eyes.

There were a foolish few who disobeyed by pocketing a ruby Diavolo gifted. They were two kids, the ones who threw rocks at you--

Half their faces were melted off.

“A saint touched your souls so I won’t kill you,” Diavolo said. “But don’t test my patience.”

The refugees ran for the mountains and Diavolo was left alone.

“I’m here,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head. “I’m right here, princess, so come back soon … ”

Gabriel and Lilith arrived a few weeks later. They’ve only now just heard the news.

Shock didn’t begin to describe what they felt at the scene that welcomed them.

Your humble mud house was transformed into a wooden cottage. The tiny patch of soil you proudly called a garden was bigger, lining the side of the river with herbs and flowers and other plants.

Life seemed to overflow

Gabriel barged inside the cottage.

The crown prince of hell sat on the edge of a bed. He was wiping the feet of a corpse, his eyes full of mad love while telling a story about how big the pomegranates were.

“I promise I didn’t use any magic. When you wake up, let’s make some dessert with them--”

A fist flew and Diavolo landed on the ground.

“You crazy … ” Gabriel’s chest heaved. He didn’t even know where to begin.

Luckily, Lilith was there. She patted his shoulder before approaching the prince. “Cousin, this is wrong.”

Diavolo lifted his head, eyes empty before focusing on Lilith. He grinned mechanically. “Oh, I didn’t notice you coming in.”

The angels exchanged glances.

“Do you like the house? I built it myself.”

“Diavolo--”

“I was giving princess a bath, she’s so spoiled--”

“Diavolo,” Lilith cut him off. “Diavolo, MC is dead.”

“She’s sleeping, Lilith. She can’t be dead, she’s going to be the queen of hell. We promised we’d be together so there’s no way she’s dead.”

“Oy,” Gabriel stepped forward, glaring at the prince. “Stop running away from this, bastard. MC is dead. She’s gone.”

“Gone,” Diavolo repeated with a whisper.

Your soul was gone.

But that’s not possible. When you became one, he reinforced his seal so you would be bound to him forever. But your soul was gone. You weren’t just dead, your soul was gone. He couldn’t feel it anymore. Your soul vanished like a whisper in the wind.

Gone--

You were gone.

Diavolo clawed at his chest, cutting skin and drawing blood. His insides twisted. He buckled down and threw up.

“Right--” He croaked as angry fat, angry tears blurred his vision. He pulled on his hair. “She’s gone. She’s gone … Even Barbatos said her soul … she’s gone.”

“Do you think that’s true?” Lilith knelt down and looked straight into his eyes. “Diavolo, think again.”

“A soul is immortal. She may be lost,” Gabriel said. “But she’s not irretrievable. And when she comes back is this how you want to greet her?” He gestured at the ice-cold body.

Diavolo chuckled wearily. “What do you know?”

“I know that you didn’t deserve her--”

“Gabriel--” Lilith tried to calm him down again but he shrugged her off.

“--I know that she deserves more than a pathetic, sobbing mess who avoids responsibility.”

The demon prince couldn’t bring himself to retort. Gabriel was right, he was pathetic.

“I know this doesn’t sound much from an uncultured girl like me but … but I want to work together with you. I want to be a partner who can help you with your problems.”

Your words echoed in the back of his mind and Diavolo laughed again. With a tearful smile, he looked out the window and into the clear morning sky.

“You win, princess. You always win.”

Meanwhile, in a roofless room surrounded by stars and with walls that stretched so far you could not see the end, two men played a game of chess.

The one who held an ebony pawn sighed. It was King Drakul of Devildom.

His opponent, a man with greying hair crudely dyed purple at the tips, quirked an eyebrow. “Something wrong, old friend?”

“I was just thinking--it’s very hard being a father.”

“Oh.” His opponent nodded in agreement. “I feel ya. Lately, Lili has taken an interest in the human realm and Levi…the one with the bowl haircut keeps messing with the time warps. He’s already reading literature that shouldn’t be in existence yet.”

“First of all, their names are Lilith and Leviathan. Secondly, my case is different from yours. Diavolo--”

“It’s about time Diavolo fixes his behavior.”

“I suppose … ”

“Cheer up, Drakul. Our plan worked, or rather, it’s going to work. Ain’t that right, Barbatos?”

Barbatos appeared with a burst of green smoke. He refilled their teacups. “You are correct, Lord God.”

Drakul sighed again.

“Hey now, you can’t start regretting it now,” said Lord God. “I went AWOL for an extra five thousand years just for this moment.”

He disappeared for millenia, causing conflict among the angels, and then arrived in time to stop a full-scale war. Not to mention, he had to create a random body and puppeteer it from the sidelines while waiting for a Host.

“You can’t soften up now. Otherwise all that effort to educate Diavolo would have gone to waste. Think of those poor souls who failed and got sent to punishment worlds because of him, think of those humans he killed when he went feral the other day--think of how many loops Barbatos has gone through--and the beating Diavolo almost gave him!” Lord God dropped a sugar cube into his cup.

“I know, I know … But those 2430 souls are on you. You could easily have asked Barbatos who would be the successful Host.”

“You know I don’t roll like that. It’s boring to know everything—why do ya think I sealed away my powers?” Lord God added another sugar cube. “Ah, speaking of, what do you think of my newest recruit? The second genius I’ve encountered since I started this gig.”

“Hm, let’s see.” Drakul grabbed a flower-shaped cookie. “Sharp-witted, competent and ruthless. I say, they’d be an excellent queen.”

Lord God spat out his tea. “You can’t--cough--you can’t be serious.”

“You can't deny that there is a possibility." He turned to his butler. "Right, Barbatos?”

A mysterious look ghosted over Barbato's eyes, then he grinned subserviently. “It is as you say, sire.”

Author’s note:

If you know me from Tumblr then you already know that I have this headcanon: In the past Diavolo was a wild, rebellious blood knight but now he is desperate to maintain peace in the three realms because he fell in love with a human in the past and patiently waits for her reincarnation so he can welcome her as his queen. Also, he's only the crown prince in the Obey Me! storyline because he refuses to become king without his beloved.

Man, I know I poke fun at him for being a reckless idiot in the story, but damn.

And imagine all the crap he deals with for uniting the three realms--all that effort for a soul who didn’t even look back when she left. 🤧

(To have that kind of power on a man... Ate MC, paturo naman po. Charot lang. We must aspire to be good people haha)

Oh, and by the way--

I would like to clarify something since you guys keep making so many conspiracy theories.

Regarding the characters from the fictional worlds and the real world:

The Obey Me! Characters that manifest in the fictional worlds are treated as separate entities from those in the Real World. E.g. Lucifer from the CEO’s arc is different from the Lucifer in Diavolo’s arc/Real World, so if the same character appears twice, our MC will not compare their names, appearances, etc. Think of it as a perception filter. However, you can say that they are still connected because they are alternative selves of each other. So residual affections felt by CEO!Lucifer will be felt by Real World!Lucifer.

What was the third party interference at the end?

Unless the above story wasn't clear enough, the interference was Diavolo.

Will MC have a harem?

Who knows.

Hope that makes things clear :D

(And please keep up with the praise, this madam would sell her firstborn for more praises from you guys.)

Until the next arc, my dear readers!

#obey me #obey me swd #shall we date #diavolo #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #afterstory #lore #obey me backstory #headcanon #imagine #scenario #angst #angssst

156 notes · View notes

nice-kill-tanaka · 3 years

Note

Heyhihello!! Can i request a match up for ohshc?

This was from another request from different acc i did weeks ago so that requesting would be much easier, ill label the numbers so that its clearer for you to understand!

2. Hobbies

Ill add things i like here too, if thats ok 😸

:food, music (classic, alternative/rock, pop and many moree!) books, anime/manga, science, literature, daydreaming, laughter/smiles, kickboxing, volleyball, archery, knives and guns, cold weather, blue skies, strong wind, horror /thriller.

3. What i want to find in a s/o

4. What i dislike

5. Personality

Im also a capricorn and libra ascendant that is infj-t mbti personality type!

Thank you very much ♥️

[🌄 @michiyonakamura requested one (1) regular Ouran High School Host Club matchup. I have just the ingredients for that! Sit tight while I get to work.🌌]

Not to sound weird, but I love your energy 😭!! I admire the fact that you have such a good sense of self. I’ll make you proud, bud! 😤

(Btw, since you didn’t clarify your pronouns, I’ll just use they/them for now. I’ll change them if you want!)

And, it looks like you have an admirer:

🌷Tamaki Suoh🌷

🌱Humble Beginnings🌱

In school, even in your second year middle school class, you knew the rumors far too well. The whispers that reminded you of viper hisses that kept one name relevant in your mind

The bastard son of Yuzuru Suoh, Tamaki

Despite the other kids explaining to you (Multiple times, at that) that the boy wasn’t worth talking to, you never understood the stigma around him

Maybe it was because your parents didn’t treat illegitimate children like the sin it was in the elite professional community?? But, you were genuinely confused at your classmates, who were so ready to deny the humanity of the new kid (Because of something he couldn’t control, no less)

You eventually asked for the opinion of your “friend”, Kyoya Ootori (Really, it was just an acquaintanceship built off the request of Kyoya’s parents. You knew that, but decided not to say anything out of liking spending time with him.). To which he responded that building a relationship with someone with such a horrible status held no benefit. But, he also knew that fact would hardly stop you

And it didn’t ❤️

You started your mini-mission with simple observation

Through watching at a distance, you learned that even though Tamaki was lowkey (highkey) shunned by his classmates, he was still the sweetest person imaginable towards them

Something told you he understood why he had the social standing he did. But, the fact that he chose to not act bitter made you feel warmer on the inside

You really, really wanted to talk to Tamaki. And hardly because you pitied him. But, because he seemed like too good and interesting a person to pass off

After further observation, you found out that Tamaki also loved music! (As he took a classical music elective)

And suddenly, you had your peace offering

The day after your discovery, you went to the library on campus and got to work. The idea was that you’d print out a ton of sheet music for piano and offer your friendship by giving it to Tamaki

You ended up printing out “’Moonlight’ Sonata”, “The Entertainer”, “Brandenburg Concerto No. 3″, and many others like them, putting them in a folder with a sticky note signed with your name:

“Wanna sit together at lunch sometime? :D —(Y/N)”

After that, you left the decision up to Tamaki. Sure, you wanted to be friends with him, but letting him come to you would be a surefire way to gauge his interest

The next day, you sat at your usual spot with Kyoya at lunch, who expressed his doubts about your efforts paying off

And while you did acknowledge that your little plan could always fall through, you kept your hopes up. The notion of making your life a bit brighter with The Power Of Friendship™️ made you giddy

As your talking veered into the subject of your curiosities about how the cafeteria’s gourmet lunches managed to be so good every day, you noticed a shift in Kyoya’s gaze. Instead of looking straight at you, his line of vision looked like it was going just past you

“Ah, excuse me? You’re (L/N) (F/N), right?”

You immediately turned around at the sound of the polite voice behind you

Well, what do you know!!

The lean boy behind you stood patiently, familiar folder in hand. His blond hair and near violet eyes only complimented his sweet-looking face. He was exactly who you were hoping to see!!

“Oh! Uh, yeah, that’s me!”

“I got the music you left on my desk, and I wanted to thank you! You have amazing taste in music.”

Your heart: ❤️✨😊🌺☀️

“Oh- geez, thanks! I kinda thought you’d like them. Wanna, maybe...sit and talk about ‘em?”

Tamaki brightened and you both looked towards Kyoya for permission. The two of you faced each other again once he gave a brief, exasperated nod

“Of course!”

🌳Flourishing Love🌳

Together, you, Kyoya, and Tamaki became the respective heart, mind, and soul of the Ouran High School Host Club

As the naturally likable manager, you were often a bridge between the two conflicting views of leadership. You brought a certain empathetic sense of responsibility to the table, which helped in most club functions

Tamaki, who you became rather close to, began to fall for your love of life, and your love for others

Even he was surprised by how many other clubs you helped out in, and made it his mission to make sure you don’t spread yourself too thin ((like he often did-))

Through you, Tamaki began to learn about all of your hobbies. And every day, he’d love you a little more

Your crush developed more slowly, but surely. You started seeing Tamaki as a romantic option when he started asking for you to teach him about the many things you enjoy. No one had shown that type of interest before, and honestly?? It was a little flustering

Soon enough, Tamaki couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to ask you out before the opportunity went away!

(((Sure, there was the issue of his customers being upset about his relationship. But, Tamaki would cross that bridge when he got to it, wouldn’t he?)))

It was actually in the library that Tamaki officially confessed. He gave you a book that you had already read, insisting that you look through it again. Albeit, confused, you complied by opening to the page bookmarked by a red rose. There, you saw a sticky note with a specific paragraph number written on it

The paragraph you read was a love confession that perfectly described Tamaki’s feelings

You looked up from the book to meet Tamaki’s eyes, that were free of the exaggerated version of himself. He was serious about this, and serious about you

After you two got together, Tamaki would’ve loved to flaunt his new relationship, but you eventually convinced him to keep it under wraps for now

In fact, he found the Secret Forbidden Relationship™️ shtick kind of ✨exciting✨

However, he will at some point get impatient and accidentally out your little romance to the Host Club (Kyoya had known all along of course)

One of your first dates was watching a “light” thriller at your place. In other words, the movie scared the crap out of Tamaki, while you comforted him like the knight in shining armor you are ☺️

Being as compassionate as he is, Tamaki would love easing you into becoming more verbally expressive. The improvement isn’t necessarily for him, since his higher understanding of other people means he can interpret how you feel too. But, he knows that taking that change is important to you, whether you’ve outright said it or not

Tamaki will become a lot more adventurous with you and all of your interests. The rest of his friends are actually concerned about his physical health 😅

During the winter months, you and Tamaki made it a habit of going out on days below freezing, and cuddling at a library/cafe

Expect many, many chocolate roses from Tamaki in the places you frequent, with sweet little love notes attached to the stem

^The notes also include polite reminders of tasks you may have forgotten throughout the day

The reason Tamaki loved dating you (And not just you in general) was because you two had gotten together of your own volition. No outside forces like wealthy family or meddling friends were involved. This relationship belonged to only you two, and that fact couldn’t be taken away 💕

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

[🌌 There you go bud! That’s one matchup for the road. Hopefully it lasts for a while, but if it doesn’t, feel free to come back! I’d be thrilled to see you again.🌄] —Reagan

#caravan commodities #special bindles #matchup #michiyonakamura.traveler #michiyonakamura.request #ohshc matchup #ouran high school host club #ohshc #ohshc x reader #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG #BEING GROUNDED HAS NO BENEFITS #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT MICHI-KUN

5 notes · View notes

enbyleighlines · 5 years

Text

Okie-dokie, so this is part 2 of 3 requests! This one is Lan Wangji & Jiang Yanli: Friendship

I hope you enjoy!

—

The aquarium is a big hit. Lan Wangji had suspected as much, when it came to A-Yuan. But he hadn’t been sure whether or not A-Ling would like it, too.

And here the kids are, both pressing nose prints to the glass, as they stare excitedly at the jellyfish floating about. They could pass for brothers, the two of them. A-Yuan is five, while A-Ling is three. Whatever A-Yuan does, A-Ling wants to copy.

It’s very endearing.

“Look at them,” Jiang Yanli whispers, “How long have they been staring at the jellyfish, now?”

Lan Wangji glances at his wristwatch, although he’s aware that Jiang Yanli’s question is rhetorical. It’s a reflexive gesture, one built up after a lifetime of keeping a strict schedule. “Five minutes?” He guesses.

The two of them are in the midst of one of their increasingly common family outings. A-Yuan and A-Ling are best friends, and Wei Wuxian always appreciates an opportunity to spend time with his Jiejie. Unfortunately, neither Wei Wuxian nor Jin Zixuan could join them today. It’s not unusual for Wei Wuxian to work a shift on the weekends, since he’s in retail. But Jin Zixuan’s absence is abnormal.

Lan Wangji was a bit disappointed to hear that Jin Zixuan is sick. The two of them have developed an easygoing friendship, one that was forged on their mutual distaste of idle chatter. They have enjoyed many moments of comfortable silence together.

Still, Lan Wangji does not dislike Jiang Yanli. She is a smart, kind, capable woman. They just don’t generally get many opportunities to speak one on one.

“Should we nudge them along?” Lan Wangji asks.

But Jiang Yanli shakes her head. “It’s not like they’re blocking anyone’s view,” she reasons, “Let’s let them be.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agrees.

They stand in silence and watch their sons for a moment.

Then Jiang Yanli speaks up again. “You know,” she says, “I’ve been reading some of your poetry to A-Ling. He really seems to enjoy it.”

Lan Wangji feels the heat rise to his face. It doesn’t surprise him that Jiang Yanli knows about his poetry. Though he publishes his poems in secret, under a pseudonym, Wei Wuxian knows all about it. And Wei Wuxian is not good at keeping secrets.

But Lan Wangji is still embarrassed. His poems are incredibly self-indulgent. So he replies, rather awkwardly, “Does he?”

“Yes! Especially the poems about rabbits,” Jiang Yanli says.

With her intuition, it’s impossible to think that she is blind to Lan Wangji’s nervous state. But her own demeanor is no less composed.

“Though,” Jiang Yanli adds with a soft chuckle, “He thinks there should be a poem about dogs, too.” She turns her head to look Lan Wangji in the face. “Have you ever thought about composing a book of poems for children? I think it would do really well.”

So they are going to keep talking about this, then. Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Once or twice,” he admits. It’s something his Muqin liked to do.

“Your poems are incredibly... approachable,” Jiang Yanli says, “That’s the only word I could think of to describe them. That is to say, they are easy to read. You don’t need a masters in creative writing to understand them.”

Lan Wangji feels himself smile at that. “My Muqin once told me,” he tells her, “that poems should speak to the common folk. She always did hate the precociousness of academia.”

“And yet she married a literary critic,” Jiang Yanli points out.

“Indeed.” Lan Wangji’s smile grows. “She liked poetry because it didn’t have as many rules as prose. My Muqin always resented boundaries. For her to fall for my Fuqin, a man who only wrote and consumed high literature... She liked to call it her life’s biggest irony.”

Jiang Yanli giggles. “You know,” she says, rather unexpectedly, “I think your Muqin and Cangse-ayi* would have gotten along.”

[*Ayi = “auntie”, a way to refer to a parent’s friend]

Lan Wangji blinks at Jiang Yanli.

His surprise must be highly visible. Jiang Yanli smiles at him and explains, “I was very young the last time I saw her, only six or seven. But I remember Cangse Sanren was a very happy, vibrant woman, much like A-Xian. The complete opposite of my Mama. My Mama used to say that Cangse-ayi had no woman friends, because she was undisciplined and had no manners. But I think maybe they just resented her because so many of their husbands had crushes on her.”

Lan Wangji listens and nods along. Funnily enough, his Shufu also knew Cangse Sanren at one point. Though his Shufu doesn’t like to talk about it, he has said that Wei Wuxian’s resemblance to her, in both looks and personality, is uncanny.

“I always liked Cangse-ayi,” Jiang Yanli continues, “and I felt bad that the other women in the neighborhood said mean things about her behind her back. And I know it’s silly, but recently I’ve been thinking about her and Wei-shushu, ever since you and A-Xian announced your engagement...”

“Ah,” Lan Wangji says. He looks down at the simple band on his finger. Soon, he and Wei Wuxian will be wed. He’s pushed it to the back of his mind, for the sake of his sanity. If he thinks about it for too long, he becomes overwhelmed with emotion.

“Maybe it’s impolite to discuss such sad things so close to the wedding...” Jiang Yanli trails off.

Lan Wangji, though, shakes his head. “I don’t mind,” he assures her, “I have also been thinking about my Muqin lately. I know she would be happy, to see me marry such a wonderful man.”

“And A-Xian’s parents would be happy, too,” Jiang Yanli adds.

“They will be watching over us together,” Lan Wangji says, and closes his eyes briefly to imagine it. “My Muqin, and Wei Ying’s parents...”

When he opens his eyes, Jiang Yanli’s soft gaze is on him. In the moment, her expression reminds Lan Wangji of his Xiongzhang. It’s so warm and open. It’s the kind of face that says, “My love is unconditional.”

The moment can’t last forever. A-Yuan and A-Ling finally decide to move on to the next tank, dragging their parents along after them.

But that moment leaves an impression on Lan Wangji. He will remember it months later, on his wedding night, when he officially becomes Jiang Yanli’s brother-in-law. He will recall their conversation, and imagine his Muqin and Wei Wuxian’s parents, smiling down at them, perched up together in the clouds.

#asks #anon #anonymous #mo dao zu shi #mdzs modern au #drabbles #leigh’s writing

19 notes · View notes

griffinsandpeacocks · 4 years

Text

Get Up And Write Week 3: “Truth is we’re messed up and we like it.” I’m Fakin, Sabrina Carpenter

Adam watched Hades fond now. They’d started to date since the night Adam had been taken home both of them drunk. Since then they’ve taken to staying in Hades’ house. He enjoys the antics Hades gets up to though he realizes the man mostly stayed home and wasn’t much of a social butterfly. Hell, Adam avoided social parties if he could. Though this one he couldn’t. It was a business party and he’d have to go.

“Hades, I have a party I need to go to, I can bring a plus one, will you go with me?” Adam asks and Hades stops scribbling away in his book and looks up and takes of his glasses.

“Can, but not need?” He asks and Adam wonders if he should have asked at all given Hades’ tone.

“You don’t have to come, but I’d rather go with someone than be stuck there alone.” Adam explains and Hades tilts his head and watches Adam. He isn’t sure he wants to go as he dislikes social events too alike to home for him. The only reason he threw the one party was it was a small collection of people he knew. That and they’d promised to be good given he was in an area outside of a magical community. Yet that went sideways really quick.

“I... I’m not a fan of parties either but sure.” Hades sighs and Adam sighs in relief. As the day comes up Hades has gone through painstaking detail in picking out an outfit that will match and complement Adam’s. Who was wearing a lovely golden button up with a deep blue over coat and pants. It was a simple suit he was wearing but Hades wanted to make sure his own attire wasn’t going to overshadow Adam let alone cause them to garner more attention than they’d no doubt receive anyway.

Hades pulled on the pale blue button up fastened the dark gray tie in place then pulled on the dark blue jacket and pants. He glanced at the mirror and placed the pin on the laple of the jacket grinning as he knows the pin will draw attention from fans of his books and he’s curious if anyone will have the balls to talk about his raunchy literature in the party.

“Ready?” Adam asks a small gold pin that looks a bit like a lion with horns and he paused blinking at it. It’s a pretty and simple thing.

“What’s that?” Hades asks moving closer and Adam’s used to Hades being so ADHD so glanced at his pin.

“Something Belle made me to remind me that even a beast can be beautiful.” He answers shrugging he wears it because he’s always worn it when he goes to these functions.

“Interesting... Yeah, let’s go. Shall we take my ride or yours?” He asks and Adam chuckles.

“You want to roll up on your bike and ruin the effort we both put into our hair?” He asks and Hades smirks.

“I put none into mine, though when you go that extra bit you clean up really well.” Hades teased jumping out of range as Adam swats at him with a playful growl. Hades grins and they go to Adam’s sleek black car and take off. It’s a function at his work and he waves at the guard who watches them with a perplexed look as they go in. Everyone seems shocked when they walk in. The Big Boss by the looks of them walks over smiling though clearly intrigued.

“Adam! Glad you came, you brought along a new face, unusual... You haven’t brought anyone with you in a long while.” He’s tactful enough not to mention why but Hades sees the slight twitch in Adam’s jaw line that speaks volumes of how much he hates the current scenario.

“I haven’t. This is Aidoneus, he moved in a while back and we became friends since.” Adam says glancing to Hades as he isn’t sure if Hades wants to be public, walking through their neighborhood talking and sitting at parks was one thing, telling his coworkers he was now dating a man was... Different. Hades glances at him and smiles.

“Ah, so nothing new in your life?” The man asks and at that Adam looks to Hades silently questioning if he should or shouldn’t. Hades is reluctant. He’s used to good things getting taken away from him if they make him happy. He shrugs and gestures Adam to go ahead. Adam looks back at his boss.

“Recently I got into a relationship.” He says and the Boss looks between the two.

“Ah, really who’s the lucky girl?” He asks and Adam looks pointedly at Hades.

“Not a girl, couldn’t, Belle was it for me as far as women go.” Adam says and his boss glances between them.

“Glad to hear you’re happy, you’ve been sulking far too long.” He says and excuses himself to go off to talk with another high up and Adam leads them over to the refreshments grabbing a brandy for himself and looking at Hades.

“What would you prefer?” He asks and Hades sees a dark red and grabs a glass. He enjoyed wine, it was a good nostalgia he got from it.

“I like my red wines.” Hades smirks and Adam nods and they find a nice quite corner and mingle when they’re pushed to by randoms walking up to chit chat. Adam cuts an imposing figure and Hades looks like a cat leaning against the wall looking casual while looking more professional than he typically likes but he looks good and knows it. Adam nurses the one brandy through the night while Hades goes through several glasses as he likes whatever one they’d brought in.

“This party is boring.” Hades sighs and Adam looks over chuckling.

“No one’s been spiked yet, I’d call it good.” He teases and Hades sighs and looks at the broadly built man. he pats him on the chest and kisses his cheek.

“Touche.” He sighs. They stay for a while Hades steadily growing more and more agitated and in need of something to do. His fingers were itching to cause some kind of scene or to write, and Adam could see it. He sighs and decides they’ve been there long enough he drags the bubbly writer after him as he goes to leave several woman stopping them to ask Hades where he got the pin and if he read the books and Hades is smirking as Adam blushed. The women and Hades giggle as they start asking Adam about what book he’s read. Adam had been careful to make sure Hades didn’t find the book he’d bought.

“Ah... I know the books haven’t read any.” He says bright pink and only getting worse as Hades chats with them some more and Adam feels embarrassed as they discuss the particular book he’s reading. He’s almost finished it. He winced as they go to talk about the end and Hades sees it a shark like grin in place as he says he hasn’t finished it and the girls squeal softly telling him it’s spectacular and they won’t spoil it.

As they’re driving home Hades is smirking but hasn’t said a word. Adam is dying on the inside.

“So, what part are you on?” Hades asks and Adam smirks now as he has an idea.

“How about I show you?” He asks pulling the other closer by his tie enjoying the collar and leash aspect at the least he can make Hades follow him if not sit and stay. Hades smirks.

“Go ahead big boy, show me.” He agrees eye alight with mischief. Adam smirks as he tugs the man up to his bedroom.

#decendants hades #descendants fanfiction #adam x hades #get up and write!#get up and write! challenge #Live action Adam

3 notes · View notes

chicksung · 6 years

Text

Red and White Roses- PJM Hanahaki Disease AU Chapter 3

Genre: Hanahaki AU, a little bit of fluff and quite a bit of angst

Pairing: Hanahaki! Park Jimin x Hanahaki! Reader ft. Min Yoongi

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, depictions of blood and gore, throwing up flowers, panic attacks

Word Count: 2k+

Post Date: 23/02/19

Summary: Everything is spiraling out of control, your parents are getting divorced, 2 of your younger siblings are moving in with your father, you have to find an apartment and continue your English major and panic attacks are becoming a frequent thing. But what’s the cherry on top of your anxiety built cake? The name engraved on your right hand and the flowers growing in your stomach

A/N: Hello there, I am completely shook. I did not expect to get more than one note, but on the last chapter, I get a surprise. My notifications weren’t working and didn’t see that people (who weren’t robots) followed me and liked it. Thank you so much, I love you all so much <3\

Chapter One II Chapter Two II Chapter Three II Chapter Four

Previously, in Red and White Roses:

“Yoongi, what do we -I- do?” You whimpered, your hair hanging in front of your face like a curtain. “There are only two options really, wait for Jimin to fall in love with you or if it becomes too much, we surgically remove it. The second one’s not as simple as it sounds, it also removes your feelings for that person and maybe your ability to ever love again.” You took a deep, shaky breath, brushing your hair behind your ear. “What happens if neither of those happen?” You asked, anxiety washing over your body like a rough sea on a stormy night. “Your lungs fill with petals and flowers, stems, or in your case thorns, grow around your heart, weakening you by the day until one day, you die.”

XXX

That day was the first of many days that you threw white rose petals, the only difference is that everyday, the amount of petals you coughed up would double until by this time, you were practically throwing up an entire garden. Only Yoongi knew of your sickness, only he knew why you always left to the break room to ‘grab a glass of water’ when Jimin entered the store, when you were really throwing up a depressingly beautiful display into the toilet bowl. He always dealt with Jimin, giving him a quick chat, his album or whatever he came there for, watching him leave before dashing to the break room, getting a large glass of water and comforted you from the side of the toilet bowl. Your deepest wish was for this to stop, the flowers that were once your favorite to stop growing in your lungs and stomach. You spent everyday like this, but at home was even worse than at work. You had no way to escape Jimin there, you were trapped, enclosed by a strong cage made of thorns and white roses, with Jimin as your oblivious captor. You often went to bed as early as you could, usually having a shower as soon as Jimin got home, throwing up the flowers before actually taking the shower, brushing your teeth and trying your hardest to fall asleep. You often woke up in the middle of the night, the flowers in your throat slowly rising to the back of your throat again, but every time you woke, you took a look at Jimin, making the feeling even worse. Most nights, you threw up on the floor, but with only petals coming up, it wasn’t hard to discard the evidence of your sickness. Even if you didn’t manage to sweep away all the evidence, you slept with the window open to let the early spring breeze blow throw the dorm room, and with the flowers on the trees already blooming, it was easy to blame the trees.

XXX

It was the end of Winter Break and the first day of the semester, the halls becoming packed with somewhat familiar faces, an almost foreign smell of spring air wafting through campus. You had woken up before Jimin, his sleeping body making your chest feel tight, but you swallowed the petals in your throat and began to change. You picked out a comfortable outfit, ripped grey jeans, a baggy white shirt and a lilac purple hoodie, complete with a black beanie. You packed your satchel with your work books, your notes from last semester, your phone, your wallet, a few notebooks and a few pens. You dashed out the door (not before double checking you had your key card) and towards the Literature building, towards the back of campus. You knew there was no need to run, but you didn’t care at this point, you had felt the familiar feeling of petals in your throat since you woke up this morning. You knew it would be better to throw up the soft petals sooner rather than later, due to the fact that you tended to throw up double the amount of petals than you normally would. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat breakfast this morning, only grabbing a protein bar from a vending machine close to the library. You finally stopped to catch your breath once you reached the Literature building, your breath catching every petal at the back of your throat. You knew you wouldn’t make it through class before you threw up in front of everyone (which only really consisted of five to thirteen students but you knew gossip spread like wildfire in a place like college) and would be brought to the hospital. You quickly ducked into the bathroom, a few other girls inside, checking their makeup, their hair, their outfit, the usual things girls checked in the mirror. You tried your very hardest to not make any noise, which you somehow managed to do fairly well, not missing a single thing that Yoongi did, except for the fact that you had left your water bottle on your desk in your hurry this morning. You leave the bathroom, only two people left in the bathroom, but didn’t seem to notice you enter or leave. You headed into the lecture hall, picking a seat towards the back, yet not at the very back. You sat down, grabbing one of your notebooks, a pen and turned to the front of the room, where you caught a friend of yours walking inside. Kim Namjoon, a fellow English major and real sweetheart. He spotted you almost as quickly as you did, despite you trying to avoid his gaze. He climbed up the several steps up to where you sat before practically crash landing into the chair next to you.

“Penny for your thoughts.” H e said calmly, breaking your train of thought, while also slightly startling you. You clutched your heart in a way of showing him he scared you and he smiled, the cute indents on his cheeks appearing.

“Sorry, you kinda scared me. I’ve just been thinking about our upcoming assignment. I just don’t know if I’ll be able to pull something good off. I’ve been kinda stressed lately, several things happened over break.” You sighed out an explanation, leaning back in your seat. He listened closely, taking in every word you say.

“Well, one way I de-stress is I read a book or look at a photo that reminds me of happy times.” You smiled weakly at the latter, knowing that no picture you own will make you feel better. Every photo you owned had some sad memory tied to it, the one of you and your German Shepard, Daisy, was taken days before she was hit by a car, the one of all your siblings, was three weeks before your older brother was found dead on the bathroom floor and when your parents and siblings were all still together. The ones of your friends were all before they moved on in their lives, finding better people than you, and even the ones here held some sort of unhappy memory.

“I’ll try that next time.”

XXX

A few weeks had gone by and things weren’t getting any better, but today was the worst you had ever felt. You had been trying to keep your head down all day, your thoughts becoming blurred together, you felt dizzy, you felt sore and tired, both physically and emotionally. You had somehow managed to get yourself to Yoongi’s music store, open the door, stumble into the store and walk in a somewhat straight line towards Yoongi behind the counter before throwing up roses onto the counter. Yoongi watched in something that could only be described as horror and awe from the amount of petals that escaped your small mouth. Once you had let out your fountain of white, Yoongi went up to the door, flipping the sign on the glass door from ‘We are Open’ to ‘We are Closed’, turning on his heel towards to you and guided you to the break room. He laid you down on the couch, propping your head up with some cushions from an armchair in the corner.

“Y/N, you’re getting worse and worse everyday, how long do you want this to continue. Maybe just, go to the hospital, you’re already growing weak.” Yoongi lectured, handing you a glass of water. You shook your head, one of the very few things you could do.

“I can’t, Yoongi-ah, I don’t want to give up just ye-” Your voice was cut off by more roses erupting from your throat and into your water. This normally wouldn’t be too bad except for the fact that the water was turning a crimson red and there was blood running down your chin. Yoongi’s eyes widened with horror, the flash of concern washed over them. Your consciousness was slowly starting to slip, the lights in the room starting to flicker, your eyelids feeling heavy. Yoongi rushed to your side from his original position in the corner, gripping your upper arms to keep you stable.

“Hey Y/N, don’t pass out on me now, stay with me please.” Yoongi called out to you in your hazy mind, his voice spiked with worry. You didn’t ask for this, you didn’t want to face the same fate as your older brother, hold out for too long before your life caved in on itself like a rock hitting a window. You had fallen too deeply in love with Jimin that you no longer believed that he could ever possibly return your feelings, he was almost perfect...no he was perfect, he was too far out of your league. The more you thought about how Jimin was so much better than yourself, the more Jimin’s name engraved on your right hand stung to the point where it felt like it was burning. The feeling of your consciousness slipping had disappeared and was replaced with hot salty tears. You leaned forward and cried into Yoongi’s shoulder, leaving a damp patch on his grey T-shirt.

“He’ll never fall in love with me.” You barely whispered, however loud enough for Yoongi to hear and he immediately knew who he was.

“How do you know?” Yoongi questioned with a quiet and comforting tone in his voice, pulling away from his shoulder and giving you soft eyes that would normally make you smile wholeheartedly but instead what he got was a sad, empty smile. You felt another sudden wave of familiar nausea and you jumped up from the couch and ran towards the bathroom, Yoongi hot on your heels. You didn’t care to close the door and fell to your knees on the hard tiled floor, a sting of pain mixing with the nausea. You closed your eyes and threw up onto the blue and white tiles, not wanting to see the red splattered roses that haunted your body and life like a poltergeist. You felt the blood and flower petals explode from your throat like a volcano, making your throat feel like it was on fire. You felt the end of the wave escape your lips, the soothing circles on your back from Yoongi were the comfort in your mental and internal hell. You didn’t bother opening your eyes, only to be greeted with the same petals you faced every single day. Usually by this time, Yoongi would whisper comforting nothings into the thick and tense silence but no word escaped his lips, just his heavy breathing.

“Y/N, open your eyes.” He said, shock and awe lacing his voice. You mentally rolled your eyes and thought about how big of an asshole he was being right now.

“Why would I want to do that?” You retorted, your voice scratchy from throwing up.

“Just trust me.”

You sighed in defeat, opening your eyes and expecting to be faced with a big red puddle with pure white petals soaking up the liquid. However, you now see why Yoongi had been silent. There was a red puddle indeed but instead of the white petals soaking up the blood, the petals were a vivid orange and a completely different shape then the petals you were used to throwing up.

“Y-Yoongi? What does this mean? I-I don’t u-understand.” You hiccuped, the same hot salty tears stinging your eyes.

“This means two things, Y/N. The first thing is that he has the same disease as you.” He started, his eyes fixated on the puddle on the floor.

“What the second thing, Yoongs?” You interjected, eyes filled with a million questions.

“He has returned you feelings...”

Chapter 3 end

Author’s End Note: Hey my beauties, I’m sorry this took so long to write!!!! The thing was I had this little internet thing in my laptop that hooked me up to the internet and it was really old and it just kinda stopped working one day so it took my mother a week to get me a new one, so I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, I love you guys

Good Day/Night to all of you Taecups and SugaKookies

~Kookie’s Cup of Tae

#Hanahaki disease #hanahaki disease au #park jimin #bts #bts au #bts fanfic #bangtan book club #lil mochi #bts fan fiction #fan fiction #bts writers net

4 notes · View notes

vexation-virgil · 6 years

Text

Colors (Part 8)

Fandom: Sanders Sides (Soulmate AU) Pairings: Prinxiety, mentions of Logicality Warnings: General angst, I don’t think there’s another one, this one is pretty soft (As always, if there is anything that needs tagged, let me know!) Summary: Everyone knows when you meet your soulmate, the world is supposed to fill with color for the both of you. Unfortunately for Roman Patrick, that is not always the case.

Taglist: @pendragonqueen09, @anaveragegayfan , @stillebesat , @anxious-but-whatever , @applecannibal , @pikachu-12 , @your-username-is-unavailable , @inkblotsanddoodles , @mikasiri , @hayleycreagine , @phlying-squirrel , @insert-epic-blogger-name-here , @lollingtothemax , @emerald-and-fluorite , @fall-chemically-atthedisco , @miss-meg1710 , @glamorousgizmo , @sleepyssnail

A/N: PLOT TWIST It’s out early because I have no self-control! So. Not a lot to say. Kind of a softer chapter but... Just for now. Love you guys!

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7 You Are Here PART 9 PART 10 PART 11 PART 12

The weekend was long and almost unbearable, the scene from Friday afternoon playing in his head practically on repeat. Roman would start over and replay and think of other ways it could’ve gone - no matter how many times Patton would smack his shoulder and tell him to knock it off. There is nothing you can do except fix it, the older boy had told him after about the fifteenth time of catching him staring off and thinking for too long.

And Roman knew that, of course, he did. But it was hard not to wish that he had done it different. Any time that he didn’t spend thinking about what he had done wrong was spent thinking of a way to fix it, like Patton suggested and by Monday he was sure he had the best plan.

Virgil liked space, Virgil didn’t seem to be a big fan of anything big or elaborate, so Roman was going to keep it simple. No flowers like he wanted - Virgil couldn’t even see the flowers to appreciate their full beauty anyway and they weren’t together so it could very well serve to just make the issue worse - no long-winded apology speech. He was going to offer whatever space the other needed and a simple apology for overstepping the boundaries.

Easy.

By the time Monday morning came, Roman was second guessing himself. He went over his plan with Patton six separate times in the drive to school (despite having reviewed it with his brother three times on the way to Patton’s) and even throughout the day.

What if it wasn’t enough? What if Virgil still held onto that anger he had felt towards Roman on Friday? What if Virgil shut him down completely? What if they lost everything they had built towards over the last few months? What if Roman lost his soulmate before he had even won him over?

It was a lot to think about, a lot to consider, and by the time their shared literature period came, Roman was an absolute wreck. His usual neat and tidy hair had been run through so many times that it was starting to stick up in places, his shoulders were tight and tense with nerves, his mouth was practically trapped in the small frown he had worn for the day. But he needed to push through, needed to pull himself together.

And Roman tried, he really did - stopped to fix his hair, slow breathing exercises to relax his face and shoulders - but the second he saw Virgil, all that work went straight out the window and his mind was racing through the different ways this could turn out. The darkly clad boy was staring down at his desk studiously, but his headphones were still around his neck, as if to show that he was open for conversation. Roman pushed his feet, which felt cemented in the doorway, to the back of the classroom, plopping into his usual seat besides Virgil.

Silence hung in the air between them, despite the babbling of their classmates around them, and neither of them dared to look at each other. It all served to make Roman more anxious, until his apology came bubbling to the surface out of his control.

“I’m sorry--”

Roman stopped, his head flipping up to look at Virgil, the confusion on the other’s face probably mirroring the confusion on his own. They’d both spoken up at the same time. Which, honestly, shocked Roman. He wasn’t entirely sure what Virgil thought he had to apologize for. The whole situation had escalated because Roman never knew when to stop. That wasn’t Virgil’s fault…

Virgil waved a hand at Roman, bringing his attention back to the present. “Oh, I. I wanted to apologize for Friday,” Roman started. Virgil blinked at him and the confusion didn’t leave his face. Roman shifted and pushed forward. “It was out of line to try and push information out of you that you weren’t ready to give me. It took a lot of time to build your trust and I don’t want to lose that because I am incredibly stubborn. I will be more careful to not attempt to force you into situations that could make you uncomfortable.”

Virgil stared at him, mouth slightly ajar, and Roman had to replay his own words in his head. He had talked this through with Patton far too many times to have messed that up but Virgil wasn’t /saying/ anything so he must’ve said the wrong thing. Roman scrambled to find some words, backtracking and opening up his mouth to speak only to have Virgil bring his hand up and stop him. His mouth snapped shut. “We’re good, Princey,” he told him, a small smile gracing his lips. “I was actually going to say sorry for maybe being a little too harsh.” He paused. “I’m not good about talking about my feelings, alright? People aren’t usually asking - Dad is too busy, no mom, not a whole lot of friends - and it just… Caught me off guard.”

Now, that, that just wouldn’t do. Not a whole lot of friends? No one to talk to? Roman wouldn’t have that, not for his soulmate, no way. His soulmate deserved the world. “Well-” Roman started, getting cut off by Virgil once again.

“I don’t like whatever you’re thinking. You’ve got a weird look on your face. Can I preemptively say no?”

Roman guffawed, but immediately brought his own hand up to cover his mouth. It took him a moment to force his face to relax. “No, no, absolutely not. Don’t look so scared, I’m not going to hurt you. I was just going to suggest that perhaps after our final show on Saturday evening, you could come over. Stay the night, join our biannual post-show sleepover. And by our, I mean me, my brother, and his soulmate. We keep it small,” he told him with a grin of his own.

Virgil squinted at him suspiciously. “Your brother and his soulmate?”

“Yeah! Logan and Patton. Oh, you’ll love them. Logan is pretty quiet but he’s crazy smart and kind of a bumbling idiot when it comes to feelings so you won’t have to talk to him about those, And his soulmate, Patton. Man, Patton always bakes a stupid amount of sweets during show week. I’ll have cupcakes one day, brownies the next, cookies… And then he usually makes pasta after the last show for me that we eat while watching Disney movies until we pass out.”

“Right, why does that not surprise me?” Virgil snorted, shaking his head a bit.

Roman huffed at him and pouted out his bottom lip. “Well, you don’t have to. I just thought it might be fun to hang out outside of school for once,” he grumbled with crossed arms.

“You know what? It does sound fun. And it might be nice to try and sneak a peek at the less than perfect prince.”

“Ah, that’s assuming that I am ever less than perfect,” he informed him, sticking his tongue out as their teacher made her way to the front of the class to catch their attention.

The rest of the week flew by in a flurry of curtain calls, costume emergencies, and late night crashes. Roman adored every second of it, the lights and eyes on him, the time with his friends, seeing Patton cheering from the third row with his brother clapping next to him during four out of the five shows. It reminded him why he kept doing what he was doing, despite his parents disapproval.

It helped that throughout the week, he and Virgil ironed out the plans for their night after the show - stay to help the crew tear down some of the bigger pieces, Logan would pick them up, they would watch Nightmare Before Christmas (Virgil’s pick), Cinderella (Roman’s pick), and then Big Hero Six (a combined choice of Logan and Patton’s), pancakes in the morning, take Virgil home. Smooth sailing, per Virgil’s request - though it had taken practically begging to convince Logan to not make a minute by minute schedule of the night.

Logan actually seemed nervous to meet his soulmate, which made Patton nervous, which made Roman nervous, which made Patton more nervous, and, honestly, it could go around in circles for days. They were all nervous to meet the boy Roman had spent the last few months absolutely agonizing over.

Set breakdown was quick, easy, with the crew and - thanks to Roman - a large part of the cast working through it together, and as they were walking out of the building, Roman scrubbed off what was left of the makeup on his face and Virgil was tugging on his sleeves, a couple steps behind him. “Hey, Roman,” he piped up as he stopped, waiting for Roman to turn to him. “Are you sure this is okay? Your parents aren’t going to be mad?”

Roman blew out a little breath. “They won’t even find out. Mom won’t be home until Tuesday and my dad is working a double tonight,” he reminded him for the umpteenth time this week. He didn’t need to tell him that he thought they did this purposefully, to not have to deal with his frivolous extracurricular. “It seriously won’t be a big deal. Besides, if they find out Logan is involved, they won’t even care,” he said, smiling as he rushed forward to pull on Virgil’s sleeve.

Virgil huffed and pushed at Roman’s hand until he let go, but Roman could still see the smile on his face as he led him to the car.

Logan, for what it was worth, did not show his nerves on the drive home. He chatted casually with Virgil, easily, in a way that almost made Roman jealous of his brother. It had taken weeks, no months to get Virgil talking to him like this and it had taken his brother mere minutes. But, maybe that was a good thing. Virgil was pressed flush against his side in the backseat, warm and comfortable as he spoke in a quiet voice. If Virgil warmed up to his brother, and hopefully Patton, this quickly, then maybe there was hope for them yet.

And, sure enough, Virgil and Patton clicked almost immediately. Patton gushed over his lavender hair - with puns and Virgil actually laughed at them! Roman had no idea what they were all so worried about. Virgil thanked Patton over and over the spaghetti, saying it reminded him of his mother’s in a way that had Patton already packing a to-go container for him to take home the next morning.

Roman wished he could have enjoyed it longer, he really did, but halfway through Nightmare Before Christmas (it had been an exhausting couple weeks, he couldn’t be judged for nodding off early) with Virgil’s body pressed against his and Patton’s fingers carding through his hair from where he was sitting on the sofa behind him, it was hard not to drift off.

“Hey, hey, Vee,” he grumbled sleepily, patting at the emo’s side and earning a chuckle. “Did you- did you know you have very pretty eyes? They’re… They’re like chocolate. No! Chocolate cake, smooth and rich and I wish I could have them all the time,” Roman told him, dragging out the world ‘all’ for far too long.

It didn’t dawn on him that all eyes had turned to him as he drifted off to sleep, shock covering their faces as Virgil resisted the urge to run right out of the house and all the way home.

#prinxiety #logicality #romantic prinxiety #romantic logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #my fics #colors

188 notes · View notes

taule · 7 years

Text

“It’s all in the movie”: Jungian themes & Reylo in The Last Jedi

Disclaimer: I was going to revise this meta and bring it up to date as my ideas matured through further reading, but it’s no longer the case. This text exists as is, and I’m not going to come back to it.

Abstract

In this post I will be mostly focusing on Jung’s principle of individuation (becoming the whole, true self) and how it aligns with the relationship between Rey and Ben in The Last Jedi. In the process I will also be discussing some of the symbolism, how I interpret it and how it ties in with the overall theme of individuation as a possible narrative arc for this film.

Also please note that I have tried my best to provide sources to all the quoted material which can be accessed online, free of charge (and is in English). I very much encourage you to dig deeper and come to your own (informed) conclusion.

Introduction

I think this particular thread of thought found its beginning after I had seen TLJ for the first or second time, and before I had seen any mention of Jung. For some reason the Praetorian Guards were drawing away my attention from Ben and Rey. Everything about them is highly ritualistic. From the way they manifest a specific kind of symmetry, to the red color that is a legacy of the Imperial Guard from which they originate. But their armor is something else entirely. My mind immediately drew a parallel with samurai armor, and I was thrilled to find out that it was actually something they used as a reference:

“The Praetorians, my brief to [costume designer] Michael Kaplan was that those guys have to be more like samurai. They have to be built to move, and you have to believe that they could step forward and engage if they have to. They have to seem dangerous.”

- Rian Johnson

But there is also something else. I kept seeing dragons. Yes, there is a lot of highly stylized stuff in Star Wars, but if you simply look at the lines, and the way the armor is constructed, it’s hard not to see the visual references. Particularly evident in the arm guards, cuirass and helmet. And this sort of stuff doesn’t just get thrown together. The design process for such things can take a long time, and always involves a number of people. It is considered from the aspect of storytelling and the significance of a scene or moment in the greater narrative. What something has to evoke or convey and the impression it has to make. Which is why I’m not at all hesitant to also look for the intended meaning of the scene in costume and setting as well.

In addition, Rian has said that this was definitely one of the most significant scenes in the film and one that he is very proud of for pulling off the way they did:

And look, there were a lot of people whose work went into it to design the space and the guards, the stunt work, but that was a moment that I had just always held dear to me, and it’s one of those very rare things where the realization of it on screen I just feel like, “Ah, we got it!” It makes me happy.

- Rian Johnson

The Subconscious

So now, coming back to the dragon. There are several ways to interpret dragon symbolism (which in some sources is not differentiated from the serpent in general), but a few particular and reoccurring interpretations align quite well with Rey and Ben’s arc(s).

Dragons often symbolize the subconscious and a certain fear that is felt towards it. Fighting one then stands for facing your own most base impulses, the unknown part of your psyche that you have to conquer in order to really be in control of your whole self, and not just led by half of your instincts.

Psychologically, however, the archetype as an image of instinct is a spiritual goal toward which the whole nature of man strives; it is the sea to which all rivers wend their way, the prize which the hero wrests from the fight with the dragon.

- Carl Jung, Collected Works, Vol.8: Structure & Dynamics of the Psyche

In the follwing (letter to pastor Jakob Amstutz) referring to the dragon as the subconscious:

It is as though consciousness were aware that the dragon is the lower half of man, which indeed and in truth is the case.

- Carl Jung, Letters Vol.I, pg.489

In Jungian theory a dragon just so happens to be a symbol for the process of individuation, which stands for the integration of soul and ego. And this is a fight Rey and Ben take on together, the two of them fighting against the dragon again alluding to them as two halves of a greater whole. Suggesting that they are also connected to each other in the process of becoming their true selves, beyond simply the extent to which the Force is concerned. The Force is a part of their connection, but I would consider it more of a mediator of their innermost selves. The reason for the depth of their bond lies in them, in who they are, and who they could become with the support of the other.

It does not mean that it is something the narrative is built around exclusively. Or that its presence could be explicit at all times. The Throne Room scene also can’t be reduced to just one set of symbols, so there is more that’s packed in there (including blatant sexual symbolism). But the fight against the dragon is what represents an inner struggle to achieve control over the subconscious. Like the tug of war between light and darkness. To me personally, that is the broader narrative, and something I feel that Rian’s comments have supported as well. Most explicitly perhaps when talking about the significance of what Rey experiences in the cave, something that is very much one of the most telling examples of what I’m talking about here. He said that it’s about becoming, in a very general sense, and also about exploring the infinite possibilities of the self, and finding the true self:

And so it was just an image that came into my head. Of this infinite line of, you know, possibilities of self. And these endless kind of possibilities of identity. And the notion of the playing with which one is the “real” her. Which one is going to be her. And where does it end.

- Rian Johnson

Individuation: Becoming the whole Self

Individuation, as Jung describes it, is a process of psychological development, during which the individual will assimilate the parts of the self into one complete and homogeneous whole and become their truest self. One of the things that individuation aims to do, is to rid the self from the fake layer of the assumed persona (Kylo Ren & the mask, to which I will return later) and on the other hand from the suggestive powers of the untamed subconscious.

Now let’s talk about Modern Man in Search of a Soul, a book Rian said he read as part of his prep for TLJ. So it is indeed “a good place to start”, for multiple reasons. First is of course the fact alone that Rian himself has been explicit about drawing inspiration from Jung. But what’s even better is that in it Jung discusses the necessity of individuation:

The way of successive assimilations reaches far beyond the curative results that specifically concern the doctor. It leads in the end to that distant goal (which may perhaps have been the first urge to life), the bringing into reality of the whole human being—that is, individuation.

- Carl Jung, Modern Man in Search of a Soul, pg.31

There is something else that I really want to point out, not specifically on the subject of individuation, and that is chapter VIII - “Psychology & Literature”. I just immensely enjoy the fact that this is something he said he is drawing inspiration from. So if I may:

In dealing with the psychological mode of artistic creation, we never need ask ourselves what the material consists of or what it means. But this question forces itself upon us as soon as we come to the visionary mode of creation. We are astonished, taken aback, confused, put on our guard or even disgusted - and we demand commentaries and explanations. We are reminded in nothing of everyday, human life, but rather of dreams, night-time fears and the dark recesses of the mind that we sometimes sense with misgiving. The reading public for the most part repudiates this kind of writing - unless, indeed, it is coarsely sensational - and even the literary critic feels embarrassed by it.

- Carl Jung, Modern Man in Search of a Soul, pg.182

Coming back to individuation again, I want to present two particular quotes which both emphasize the importance of communication and the conversational aspect of this process. Which is in my eyes especially relevant to how individuation as a whole aligns with the development of Rey and Ben’s relationship. The Force bond allows them to communicate themselves to each other, and the more they begin to understand the other, they also learn something about themselves.

I quite agree with you: without relatedness individuation is hardly possible. Relatedness begins with conversation mostly.

- Carl Jung, Letters, Vol.II, pg.609-610

Individuation is only possible with people, through people. You must realize that you are a link in a chain, that you are not an electron suspended somewhere in space or aimlessly drifting through the cosmos.

- Carl Jung, Nietzsche’s “Zarathustra”: Notes of the Seminar given in 1934-1939, pg.103

But, there is more here than just the relevance of a conversational aspect. There are 3 stages to individuation, which I think can also be seen in TLJ. Jung himself outlined them as the following:

The search into the unconscious involves confronting the shadow, man’s hidden nature; the anima/animus, a hidden opposite gender in each individual; and beyond, the archetype of meaning. These are archetypes susceptible to personification; the archetypes of transformation, which express the process of individuation itself, are manifested in situations.

- Carl Jung, Collected Works Vol.9i: The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious, 451 p. (p. 3-41)

I will write about the steps below, but I feel the need to point out that we are simultaneously dealing with two kinds of self here. One is contained within them individually, the other is the greater consciousness or self they become together. That is why I think that the stages are less evident in the two when viewed separately, but become more obvious when they are observed as a whole made of two individuals. They are both part of the same process of individuation, together. They are fighting the dragon as equals, and so their struggles to face their own self are also connected. Not to mention because of the way they are connected by the Force. The balance they would create together is the result of this process in which they are both involved.

1. Assimilation of the Shadow.

This is the first step of individuation. The shadow is a representation of the “dark side” of the personality or human psyche. And all the more negative aspects of the lower half of the self (subconscious), like a compartment saturated with moral and ethical shortcomings, character flaws, shame, abuse and dependency. Assimilation of the shadow means facing the darkness you contain to become aware of all of the parts of your (sub)consciousness in order to integrate them into your whole self.

In the film Rey plunges underwater (water - a prominent symbol for the subconscious) to emerge in the “forbidden” cave beneath Ahch-To where she finds a mirror-like wall in which she sees two shadows approaching. One that is her own, and one that appears to be that of Ben’s. The shadows become one, at which point she sees her true reflection appear.

When it comes to the assimilation of Rey’s own shadow, to me it seems to be depicted rather straightforwardly. At first I was hoping to find a parallel moment in which Ben has a similar experience independently, but then I realized that for him it happens through Rey. And perhaps that is the only way. Because remember, communication is the key to individuation. And him having strayed much farther away from the light, he might not be able to achieve it alone. He needs Rey to help him. She is the other half of the whole, the greater self.

So there is a reason Rey saw two shadows meld into one and then herself. The scene in the cave is followed by that in the hut where Rey tells Ben everything that happened. The hopeless loneliness it made her feel. She is sharing her experience of individuation with him. And the very element of them talking about it over the Force bond is a reminder that their understanding of each other’s experiences goes beyond what they say in words, it is also felt.

In my interpretation of it, it’s through Rey’s experience that Ben becomes able to confront his own shadow (if I go by the mirror scene in the cave.) And so that is a part of why their shadows are shown to meld into one. Because they are parts of the same whole. His experiences affect her and vice versa. I think Ben is overwhelmed by his own shadow which manifests in the persona. This would most distinctly show the emotional stuntedness which suppression has caused. He has become emotionally fractured, so much so that he can hardly figure out the pieces by himself, so he needs the conversationality of the individuation. He needs Rey’s help to find himself again. And it’s an awakening that we see throughout TLJ.

The Eye

There is one more element about the cave scene, that I wanted to mention. Although I’ve seen Freudian readings of it, which interpret the cave through sexual symbolism, my own first association was actually different. To me, the entrance to the cave looked like an eye.

The mind which is in each of us is able to comprehend all other things, but has not the capability of understanding itself. For as the eye sees all other things, but cannot see itself, so also the mind perceives the nature of other things but cannot understand itself.

- Philo of Alexandria, Works Vol.I, pg.76

The hole in the center resembling the pupil, dark and full of the unknown. The growths emerging from it reminiscent of the pattern of an iris surrounding it. And I just thought it to be interesting how it seems to align with the aspect of the light above and darkness below, representing the conscious and subconscious mind:

So whatever comes from behind comes from the shadow, from the darkness of the unconscious, and because you have no eyes there, and because you wear no neck amulet to ward off evil influences, that thing gets at you, possesses and obsesses you.

- Carl Jung, Nietzsche’s “Zarathustra”: Notes of the Seminar given in 1934-1939, pg.1265

So in that way, Rey is entering someplace that her conscious can’t access, where the eye doesn’t see. Diving into the waters of subconscious to reach the mirror in which she finds their shadows. The eye thus representing a doorway into the lower half of the self. So what Rian said about the cave scene interestingly enough also connects back to Jung:

The idea was if the up top is the light, down underneath is the darkness And she descends down into there and has to see, just like Luke did in the cave, her greatest fear. And her greatest fear is [that], in the search for identity, she has nobody but herself to rely on. - Rian Johnson

2. Becoming One: confrontation of the anima & animus

The second step of individuation is concerned with the dynamic of anima and animus what in Jungian theory control and shape the relationship between a man and a woman, the male and female. Anima being the representation of the female element of a male’s psyche, and therefore animus the opposite in a woman’s. This is a similar relationship to that of yin and yang.

It is unavoidable, for the purpose of Individuation, that one will know how to differentiate the true self from the self that one allows themself and others to see. For the same reason it is necessary to become aware of the invisible ties one has to their subconscious, specifically to Anima. In order to be able to differentiate oneself from it.

- Carl Jung, my shitty translation of a translation of Die Beziehung zwischen dem Ich und dem Unbewussten before I realized it’s literally the same book as Two Essays In Analytical Psychology *sigh* (Page 97 in my copy, but you will have to find it yourself in the linked text)

Persona & The Mask

In the case of Ben, there is another aspect which plays into the dynamic of self and anima, and that is the persona that is Kylo Ren, that I mentioned earlier. A constructed self created to camouflage the true self, to mask feelings and reactions in order to obtain some type of control over his self-projection. The element of the mask also being literal in this case. Kylo Ren is an attempt to dehumanize himself externally, in order to hide the pain and fear of Ben Solo. Jung also describes the relationship between anima and persona as compensatory. This is why both have to be taken into account.

And this persona is another part in Ben which needs Rey in order for him to let go of it. We also see that happen in TLJ quite explicitly I think. Snoke even calls Ben a “child in a mask”, which is what prompts him to discard it in anger. That moment is an initial reaction and not yet his full realization of the persona, but he is forced to face it. It is his connection with Rey which enables the emergence of himself from behind the mask, and to see something worth wanting that the mask would not allow him to have. Step by step he comes closer to consolidating the persona and the anima.

Awakening of Eros

One aspect of confronting the anima and animus is that it can also be the awakening of Eros. I did not plan on expanding much on that because it goes deep into sexual symbolism territory. But it was something I wanted to point out though.

So, too, man will be forced to develop his feminine side, to open his eyes to the psyche and to Eros, It is a task he can’ not avoid.

- Carl Jung, Collected Works, Vol.10 (Civilization in Transition), Page 125

If you want to understand the sexual imagery in TLJ better or see alternative interpretations to your own, there are well-known blogs that have written about the subject at length.

3. Wise Old Man / Woman Archetype

The third step of individuation involves meeting the archetype of the Wise Old Man or Wise Old Woman. Jung describes such archetypes as “mana-personalities” which are still tied to either anima or animus. In the collective unconsciousness they are interpreted like the inner representations of the same-sex parent and symbolize figures of authority.

The mana-personality is a dominant of the collective unconscious, the well-known archetype of the mighty man in the form of hero, chief, magician, medicine-man, saint, the ruler of men and spirits, the friend of God.

- Carl Jung, Collected Works, Vol.7 Pt.II: Two Essays on Analytical Psychology (Individuation)

In general this last step is the hardest for me to completely wrap my head around. Perhaps because how the archetype can appear in very different forms, and that perhaps also goes for its intention. The intended outcome is also more difficult to outline, outside of the fact that the experience of it has to complete the process or rather journey of individuation. I’m not going to attempt to translate the whole segment, because it makes my head hurt, but in a chapter dedicated to mana-personality in Two Essays on Analytical Psychology Jung basically describes meeting the mana-personality as something similar to the process of acceptance or admitting something to the self. Also, the manifestation of a mana-personality occurs only if the previous step has been successful, in the process of which the anima has lost its raw demonic power (ibid).

I think it’s possible that this is what we see at the end, the archetypes being represented by Luke & Leia. But that being said, I don’t see the process of individuation as being complete, so the third step may also be something that we didn’t actually see in this film.

Conclusion

To me, it really is all in the movie. I hope to have outlined how and why Jung’s concept of individuation aligns with the relationship between Rey and Ben, their growth individually and together. In that way forming a kind of a narrative arc which implies that together Ben and Rey will bring balance to the Force and to each other. It’s about the whole Self.

______ The Human Shadow and other stories (I didn’t have time to read/listen to most of it yet, but RJ references it so it doesn’t hurt to link it anyway. )

#Reylo #Reylo meta #The Last Jedi #Rian Johnson #Ben Solo #Rey #Carl Jung #maemeta

365 notes · View notes

driftingglass · 7 years

Note

inb4 everyone loses their mind about how great BakuDeku is, I'm just trying to make a point. It's a debate, not an argument. That's just my rebuttal. (8/6 wow this got long)

Ah, man, I’m going to have to show all of your messages together because your response was awesome. The thing is, you do have many valid points, and I completely see where you’re coming from and why your point of view on this definitely needs to be heard.

I hope you don’t mind. I want to respond to you with you knowing that I read every piece of your response and I want to give you the time you’re giving me.

Same anon. Comparing a ship where Deku is told to kill himself and he suffers from depression from everything Baku put him through to “it’s like getting mad at someone for picking green as their favorite color” is a pretty bad comparison honestly. If you romanticize the behavior it leads to people thinking that it’s okay when it clearly isn’t. (1/6)

I agree, that this is a comparably weak analogy. However, I do not intend to romanticize anything when it comes to this ship. These ideas that I’m talking about may sound romanticized, but in execution it would be far harder and more difficult than it seems.

Also, I would never, EVER, expect the rules of a ship that I like and find interesting in an anime to reflect a real-life relationship or what I would want from a real-life relationship. Maybe this a little confusing, but when it comes to characters and their relationships, I usually never associate them with what I would want in real life.

Hence, this is why I enjoy writing about it so much, because of how relatively ridiculous and unrealistic it is (and I know that I mentioned the “realism” point on my post and your counter to that, which I’ll expand on).

Anyway. I agree that romanticizing this behavior is awful, and it shouldn’t be glorified. I don’t think Bakugou should be romanticized as a character at all. I’ve mentioned several times that he’s an asshole and should be held accountable, and in no way would I ever expect this ship to work in canon.

Basically, despite what I love about the ship, I’m completely aware of how horrible the idea of the bully/victim dynamic is reflected in real life, and how circumstances aren’t meant to be built and executed in this way outside of the realm of literature and other artistic mediums.

I understand that you base the attraction of the ship off of healing, forgiveness, growth, etcetera. However, that’s implying that Deku (and others like him who have been in the same situation) would even do any of that. Like he would actually have some kind of mutual love with the same guy who made him fucking hate himself. It literally makes no sense whatsoever considering if you’ve actually talked to anyone who has been bullied, they don’t typically go from “this guy is an asshole”… (2/6)

Hm, you have a point here. I agree with your first statement, but I also want to touch on the “actually have some kind of mutual love with the same guy,” tidbit. I want to clarify that I do think, even with these elements in mind, that Izuku and Katsuki, IF this was based canonically, would have to rebuild some semblance of friendship over years of reconciliation.

Also… I’m not sure, if Katsuki is actually the main cause of Izuku “hating” himself? I can’t defend anything for Izuku’s complete lack of confidence in the very beginning and the obvious effects that Katsuki’s bullying has had on him. And I don’t plan to, because I think you have a very good point here.

Also, Anon… I have been bullied.

I was bullied verbally and physically through elementary, middle and high school. My family dynamic has led to me being bullied and cornered in my own home. My only two romantic relationships stemmed from mental and sexual manipulation and abuse from people I once considered my best friends, and even though I forgave both of these people, I would never turn back and accept them in my heart again.

I’ve faced repercussions from every experience, and still do.

I understand how dreadful and deplorable bullying is, and how it affects victims and the people around them and dear to them. In no way do I want to ever come off as a person who romanticizes bullying or even promotes something similar to that.

But again, this ship is not based off of an idea that I would ever want in my life or want anyone I care about to experience. It’s an idea that I enjoy reading and thinking about in a work of total fiction, with aspects of it that I enjoy and relate to, while also understanding that my life and the works I enjoy are separate.

You can take that as you will.

This may seem backwards, but it’s how I feel.

(Also, Anon, I don’t see parts 3 or 5…? If you want this included on here, send them to me or let me know. I could be missing some of your response…)

Has anyone else who has been bullied relentlessly who is reading this felt that way /ever/? I seriously doubt it. Not only does it not make sense, but it insults the trope as a whole. You continue to make general contrasts and parallels to Katsuki and Izuku which is nice and all. That’s great. In fact, that’s fantastic for a platonic respect that would somehow grow from whatever bitterness they had before. (4/6)

Ah, this is kind of going off my last response.

I agree that it works mostly in a platonic respect, because mostly of what I love about these two characters and their parallels is their entire dynamic as a whole, both in a romantic and non-romantic context.

I was focusing on the romantic since that was the subject of the anonymous message you sent me, but there is no doubt in my mind that in the canon universe and even in general, these two work marvelously in the platonic respect.

That’s part of why I love the challenging (and seemingly impossible) idea of carving a romantic image out of it. Is it necessary to enjoy the dynamic? No. Absolutely not. I think your points on this make a ton of sense.

And no, as someone who’s been bullied for the vast majority of my life, I’ve never felt this way. Ever. I agree with you on that.

Again, that’s part of the challenge in writing about it, not exercising the practice in real life. I do think the ship is toxic and has a ton of issues, and I’ve mentioned that before–in fact, a lot of the reasons why I mention those to begin with, is based on making readers understand that what happens in this ship shouldn’t be celebrated as an embodiment of perfection or a work of fiction.

But, I see the problematic viewpoints in my arguments, as well. Some of these will lead to us having to agree to disagree, but I really love this rebuttal.

You can forgive someone but that doesn’t mean things are better. That doesn’t mean Deku is fine, it just means he’s let those actions go and he won’t let them haunt him anymore. But forgiveness isn’t an open door for romance. If someone has broken your best friend’s heart and you forgave them for that, it doesn’t erase the memories of you watching them cry or trying to console them because of what their ex did. (6/6 but I still have more to type and this inbox sucks

Everything you’ve said here, is completely, 100%, TRUE.

I absolutely agree on all of the points you’ve made in this specific section. Especially on the nature of forgiveness and how you’ve expanded on this from a previous section you wrote.

I also agree that forgiveness is not an open door for romance… but it can be.

Now, I’m not speaking from personal experience, and I’m not speaking for the experience of anyone else, but that sentence alone is not universally true. It’s a rather bold statement to make, and it would be impossible to assume that every person who forgives someone would shut the door for romance.

The circumstances are different with everyone, but it IS TOXIC for a person to immediately forgive, forget, and leap into a romantic situation with no rebuilding or actual time taking place. It’s a complicated subject that you’ve introduced well, and again, I think you’re correct.

Is it true for BakuDeku, though? Yeah, I think in terms of canon, you’re correct.

But this, again, is why I think it’s challenging. Also, while mentioning this, I do not think that people should feel obligated to open their options for romance upon the nature of forgiveness. Ever.

Again, what I find intriguing in a ship between fictional characters does not reflect what I would want to see from real people, especially those near and dear to me.

Your examples are very relatable too, and help bolster your argument well.

To clear one thing up, I’m one of few people who ship BakuDeku who completely understands why people hate the ship… for literally almost everything you’ve said so far. I know that this exists, and that your logical viewing behind it is completely valid and makes absolute sense.

The ship is ludicrous, and the elements that I find fascinating between the characters is why I want to write about them.

Also, yeah, the inbox system sucks on here. I’m sorry about that, but I appreciate you breaking up your responses!

If your father used to tell you to kill yourself and treat you the same way Baku did to Deku, you can forgive him but that doesn’t erase whatever Deku has gone through. Forgiveness isn’t a plot device to spur your ship. It’s far more complicated than that. And last but not least, you can challenge yourself with writing without having them fall in love after all the horrible shit Baku has done to Deku. BakuDeku is in no way realism. (7/6)

Again, I agree with you, especially on the first sentence.

I do find it… kind of unbecoming, to claim that I’m using forgiveness as a plot device to spur the ship. I suppose that it can be considered that, but I don’t take the subject of forgiveness lightly at all–I know that it’s one of the hardest, if not the hardest thing, you can do individually for both yourself and the person involved.

I’ve had to forgive quite a lot of people to give myself peace, and that has taken years at a time for some, and months for others. I’m fully aware how complex and emotionally rendering forgiveness is, and what it takes to follow through with it.

I also completely agree with writing about them challengingly and not having them fall in love. I think that’s what’s going to happen with the canon material, honestly. At least, I’m hoping for it, that they can overcome these hurdles and at least mutually respect each other as people.

Now, the romantic context? That’s purely for out of canon and not at all based on strict material or realistic representation within the manga or from personal experiences.

“BakuDeku is in no way realism.”

Hm. You may have a point here. I can see how my statement earlier on BakuDeku being a reflection of realism is flawed, and with the examples you presented I’ll respect that. I’m aware that it’s in a context of fictional characters with overly dramatic and exaggerated circumstances and personalities, and I do think there are realistic elements that can be taken with a ship based in an anime.

But I agree that outright claiming it to be based on a foundation of realism on top of everything else is a stretch, considering the argument you’ve presented.

inb4 everyone loses their mind about how great BakuDeku is, I’m just trying to make a point. It’s a debate, not an argument. That’s just my rebuttal. (8/6 wow this got long)

Anon, I think it’s actually really incredible that you bothered to present a well-thought-out, well-presented, and very cordially presented rebuttal to my response to your original message.

I’m grateful that you contributed to this as a discussion, and I love the points you made. I also don’t want you to think that I do support some of these elements that is mentioned above, and that my intention is in no way to romanticize the ship for what it is.

I also know you’re not trying to start an argument. I love what you’ve had to say, and I really appreciate it. I appreciate the respect and clear attention you’ve put into the post I made and your response, and I hope that my response isn’t angering you or upsetting you.

And if you didn’t want me to do this, please message me and I’ll gladly take it down

Thank you for this response.

25 notes · View notes