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1d1195 · 2 days ago

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The Lottery III

Read The Lottery here | ~4k words

From me: takes place during her second year in town. It's Christmas time 🎄

Warnings: fluffy

Summary: It's truly embarrassing how smitten Harry is with her.

“Please, please, please!”

“No,” his voice was solid, flat, devoid of emotion. Impervious to her pleading it seemed.

She frowned and looked at him with a look that Harry assumed was supposed to be menacing. But it looked about as menacing as a baby bunny could be. “Harry Styles, people will think you’re The Grinch.”

“They already think that, Peach,” he rolled his eyes and moved to the next table check that the ketchup wasn’t completely depleted.

“Then I’ll think you’re The Grinch.”

That seemed to do something to his brain because he paused running around the diner. He looked at her with the same irritation that he always directed at her. The kind that made him annoyed because she wanted two different pancakes. Or that she didn’t wear the proper coat in the snow. Or that her tires needed to be replaced on her car, but she didn’t mind (refused to replace them) because she wasn’t driving very far these days and really, it wasn’t that big of a deal because it probably wasn’t going to snow in the remainder of that March.

Harry shook his head, remembering he was supposed to answer her. “Peach,” he sighed and rubbed his face. “I’ll look ridiculous.” There was no one else in the diner. It was nearly five in the morning. Much too early to have this conversation and even earlier to be having an argument.

But Harry thought she looked so cute. Cold but bright-eyed. “Well, that’s why I came now to ask. No one will know it’s you. We’ll park your car at my house, and you’ll tell everyone you have an appointment in the city. You’ll look unrecognizable.”

He stared at her for another moment before he turned to the coffee pot that he was brewing to make it cold for her. She was hours too early so it wouldn’t be cold. Her last pitcher was used up yesterday. Which only made him grumpier that he didn’t have what she liked. On top of being asked to do her ridiculous task. The silence was deafening. She smiled sweetly at him. “I’ll order regular pancakes for a week,” she offered.

He rolled his eyes. Maybe because he knew that he would still make her stupid pancakes and two omelets if she asked. “If anyone finds out s’me, I’ll tell them y’drugged me, Peach.”

“That’s very reasonable. While I’m asking for things, is it possible, I could borrow your oven for cookies and your coffee burners for hot chocolate?” She batted those pretty eyelashes at him, and he wondered just how obvious it was to her that he would do anything she asked of him.

“Y’know... I don’t do the whole town celebration thing,” he reminded her turning back to the coffee pot because if he looked at her any longer, he was going to tell her everything and this was not the time nor the place. She also wasn’t someone he wanted to know all his dark secrets. She was the one person that didn’t look at him with pity and he wanted that to remain true for as long as he could manage.

She frowned. “Well, I do,” which made next to no sense because at the time of asking she had only lived through one town Christmas—kind of. She wasn’t part of the traditions at all but somehow inserted herself into helping as much as she could. “No one will know it’s you,” she reminded him. “And I know you want to help,” she shrugged casually. “Can our pancake deal start tomorrow I’m desperate for peaches and white chocolate chips,” she dropped into her seat.

He didn’t answer, but he assumed she knew he was putty in her hands. “Coffee’s not cold yet,” he grumbled pouring her a hot cup.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to make me cold coffee anyway,” she shrugged and reached over the counter for the sugar and cream only for Harry to smack it away as was their own little tradition. “Oh!” She squealed and hopped out of her seat rushing out the front door as if she saw a ghost.

Harry blinked and hurried after her in case there was some kind of issue or if she saw something troublesome that would get her killed or kidnapped. Not that anything of the sort ever happened in their little town. But leave it to her to find something dangerous. “What—”

Her head was tilted nearly at a sharp forty-five-degree angle looking at the moon, dipping lower in the sky. Some of the stars were still out, and the sky was just starting to turn the slightest light blue. “Isn’t she pretty?” She sighed dreamily. Harry felt a warmth spread through his chest. The same kind that did any time she had him look at the moon. The awe, the fascination, the unadulterated innocence on her face made his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, Peach, s’lovely,” he agreed and waited twenty seconds to let her stare. “S’cold out,” he reminded her because she of course didn’t put her coat back on for this expedition. Gently, he placed his hand on her lower back. “C’mon,” he encouraged. “I gotta make y’some pancakes.”

Harry swore she continued looking over her shoulder as he ushered her inside which just made him fall a little harder for her.

The day of the town’s Christmas festival Harry did what she said. He talked about his appointment in the city (that he didn’t have) all morning. When nearly everyone he ever knew was in town, he drove his car to her house where no one would notice it was there. He dressed in a red suit, and she drove him over in her own car dressed in an elf ensemble. Had Harry known she had a part to play he may have agreed a little faster. She was adorable, the shoes curled into a swirl at the toes, she was decked in red and green from head to toe and sure Santa was a symbol of Christmas but she was the near embodiment of it as well.

The second she stepped out of the car after all the little ones shouted excitedly for Santa, she pulled up the rear carrying a bag of candy canes over her shoulder.

“Miss Peach! You’re an elf too!?” Someone called when they realized the bookstore owner was in tow with Santa himself.

“You know Santa?!”

She giggled as Harry threw his voice and laughed at the little ones in awe over the pretty girl. They were right to be in awe. She was lovely. Making this happen. Picking someone certifiably Grinch-like. Yet he did it anyway.

“Santa’s sleigh is being fixed a couple towns over, so I picked him up and he was so grateful he agreed to come say hi to everyone! One of the elves gave me a costume to borrow for the day,” she explained. “Santa is going to see if he can get everything you all want, if you’ve been good.”

So, Harry took his seat on a chair that was much too poofy and frilly. It was set among a huge sack of mini presents, a mailbox for letters, and she dumped her bag of candy canes into a bucket. There were cookies and hot chocolate at the table beside the setup, run by her employees, curtesy of Harry’s oven and coffee maker. She stood beside Harry the whole afternoon as so many little ones came to tell Santa what they wanted.

What was worse was it was fun. Harry actually enjoyed being Santa. The little ones were so funny, and she was adorable dressed in her little get up. “Miss Peach,” one little boy whispered toward the end of their little event. He waved her over several yards away from Santa’s chair.

Naturally, she hurried over, leaving Harry with a pair of nine-year-old girls who wanted a lot of makeup and dolls. She greeted his parents who smiled knowingly at the cute bookstore owner with a little baby in a stroller beside the boy who waved her over.

“Is that the real Santa?” He asked gulping.

She smiled. “I got him off the sleigh and everything.”

He looked down nervously. She knew him from her story hours and going to the bookstore to do crafts related to the book of the week. “I’m kind of scared of Santa, Miss Peach,” he whispered.

“Oh,” she pouted. “There’s nothing to be scared of,” she whispered. “He’s very nice and just wants to know what you want for Christmas.”

“Will you go with me?” He asked.

She nodded and held his hand. “Hey Santa, Caden here is a little nervous,” she told Harry. Behind the hat, wig, glasses, a white beard and a firm pillow tucked into his shirt, it was next to impossible to know it was Harry.

How anyone couldn’t tell those pretty green eyes belonged to someone other than Harry was ridiculous to her, but whatever. She was eternally grateful he was doing this for her. Honestly, she couldn’t fathom why he would do it for her, but she wasn’t going to question it long enough for him to back out.

There was a kind smile beneath the white beard and mustache. One that she had only seen a handful of times. When it appeared on his face in the diner it was nearly always hidden from view—but every once in a while, she would see his pink lips turn up in a genuine smile. Happy over a joke someone made. Or how a little one told Miss Peach they had a crush on her.

She wondered if Caden knew how lucky they were to witness such a soft, beautiful sight. “S’that so?” He chuckled.

Caden tucked himself behind her leg and she bent to scoop the six-year-old into her arms. “Santa is a good friend of mine, he just wants to make sure you get what you want,” she assured him. “Do you want me to tell him?” She asked stepping closer toward Harry. He hid his face against her shoulder. Gently, she stroked the back of his head. “I used to be scared of Santa too,” she whispered. “But we’re friends now, right Santa?” She asked glancing over. Harry nodded, waiting patiently. Letting her do her thing. “Here,” she walked to Harry, wedged herself between Harry’s legs and perched on his thigh, stretching her own legs out so she wasn’t putting her full weight on his body. She sat Caden on her lap facing her and Harry.

Poor Caden looked like he was about to have a breakdown.

Harry knew what Caden was feeling almost at the exact same time. Other than a touch on her back or smacking her hand away, Harry hardly ever touched her. Now, her whole pretty butt was on his thigh. Had he known this would have happened, he wouldn’t have argued with her at all. She was so casual about it, as if she sat herself in his lap all the time. How was this not a moment in time that caused for absolute shock for her? Was he breathing? It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” she smiled sweetly, encouragingly. “I’m right here, tell us about what you want Santa to bring,” she ran a hand across his cheek. “Do you want... a Lego set?” She asked. He glanced up shyly at Santa and nodded. Harry smiled behind his beard reassuringly. “And a skateboard?” She continued guessing what a little boy his age would want. He nodded again. “And... a unicorn stuffie?” She smirked.

He frowned and shook his head. Which made the two of them laugh. “My sister likes unicorns, not me,” he told them. Harry nodded.

“So, a skateboard for you and a unicorn for—” Without missing a beat, Harry watched her mouth the name of the younger sibling. “Lily.”

“You know Lily?” He asked, pure wonder in his eyes. Staring up at Harry like he was the most amazing person in the world. Harry did think he was the Grinch because his heart truly melted and it was all thanks to the pretty, peachie girl.

“Santa knows everything,” she whispered. “Can you say thank you?”

“Thank you... Santa?” Caden asked, hopping down from her lap and turning bravely toward him. She stepped away from his legs which made him feel cold and grumpy again. But he remembered to stay focused on Caden.

“Yes, lad?” Caden ushered him closer waving his hand toward him. Harry leaned down further so Caden could whisper in his ear.

“Can you help me get a present for Miss Peach?”

Harry looked at her as she gathered a candy cane, a cookie, a present, and a cup of hot chocolate for Caden to take. “Absolutely.”

When Santa left, Harry magically returned with his car and headed to the diner to check on things. “You missed all the fun Harry,” she sighed stepping behind the counter and heading for the coffee pots filled with hot water for her hot chocolate stand. “I brought Santa in and everything.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and stuck his arm out to stop her. “Did he tell you he was bring y’coal?” he rolled his eyes and turned her physically by her shoulders before she reached the coffee pots. “Get out,” he said.

“Miss Peach getting coal?” Edith laughed. “Harry, don’t be ridiculous.”

She smiled, a knowing smirk on her lips. “Can I please have more hot water for hot chocolate?” She asked.

He sighed, like it was a big to do. But he did it anyway. She was getting really good at reading his eyes. She could see the slight amusement. Or what she hoped was amusement. Maybe it was just more annoyance, but the light shining a little differently in his irises. “I’ll keep it coming,” he shrugged and handed her two of the coffee pots.

“You are like Santa himself,” she grinned and carefully walked out with the hot liquid. Someone held the door for her and Harry headed to the kitchen, smirking once he was behind the cover of the wall away from the rest of the diner.

Christmas morning in a small town was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was literally a Hallmark movie. There was a thin layer of snow on the ground. Against the lights it was the stuff of dreams. She walked through the quiet town, her second one in town but the first one she had ever spent away from her family.

“Peach?” Harry called. He was taking a bag out behind the diner to the trash. The door to the back was open to what she imagined was his apartment. She heard it was attached to the diner, but she had never seen beyond it.

She gave a wave and walked toward him. “Merry Christmas, Harry!” She chirped and dove in for a hug. Harry awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and despite his awkwardness, it felt like the best Christmas present he had ever received.

“Merry Christmas,” he hummed. “I thought y’were heading t’your family’s place for the holiday?”

“I did last year, but I thought I would try and start my own traditions. They’re going to be down this weekend actually.”

“Make sure y’bring them by,” he reminded her.

She smiled. “How about you? Any traditions?”

Traditions hadn’t been part of Harry’s vocabulary in ages. But Gemma was coming and that made him immensely happy. Well, as happy as someone as grumpy as he could be. “M’sister is coming around lunch time. I do a Christmas brunch, and a lot of people stop by.”

“Oh, that’s really lovely,” she grinned. “I’m sure you’re busy then and I don’t want to keep you. Have a happy—”

“You’re invited,” he practically blurted. She blinked, surprise coloring her pretty face.

But she recovered quickly and the smile on her mouth returned and made Harry think that even if he never touched her again, he could settle for a smile directed at her. “Really?” She asked. “I don’t want to mess with tradition.”

But that was far from the truth because she had already inserted herself into so many town projects and made the town so much better just by existing. Not to mention she got him to dress as Santa. Tradition flew out the window the moment she stepped foot in the diner.

“S’a whole town thing.”

“Well then, I really have to run because I cannot show up empty handed. Muffins or cupcakes?”

“Y’don’t have to—”

“I’ll make both unless you tell me.”

Harry rolled his eyes and her stubbornness. “Muffins, Peach. Thank you.”

“Christmas looks good on you, Santa,” she nodded. “You’ve got the best smile, Harry,” she waved and headed back the way she came.

Her mom always hosted parties and if she didn’t then it was a neighbor, Grandma, or aunt. She became a makeshift hostess and always tried to make herself useful. The second she walked into the diner she was greeted with cheers and Merry Christmases. Honestly, other than it being a holiday and the garland draped around the place, it was no different than walking into the diner any other day. She scurried to the counter where all the food was lining it, the warmers keeping the food hot, just waiting to be devoured. She could hear noise from the kitchen. Without thinking much longer, she stepped behind the counter, set her muffins toward the end of the line of food, and began gathering the plates and silverware to put at the beginning of the line.

The moment he heard clinking, he stepped from the kitchen. “What the he—”

“Oh hi,” she chirped over her shoulder. “Just making myself useful.”

“You’re not supposed to be behind the counter.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s Christmas and I’m helping.”

“I like her,” a woman stepped from behind the kitchen wall as well and smiled with a wave. “I’m Gemma,” she said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas. Harry’s sister?”

“The one and only,” she had the same pretty smile that Harry did. She wondered who they inherited from. But the smile seemed much more natural on Gemma’s face than Harry’s.

“Peach,” he rubbed a hand over his face. “If y’get hurt, m’insurance doesn’t cover annoying pains in the butt.”

“What a nice thing to say on Christmas,” Gemma rolled her eyes. “How many times did you come back here when Mum told us not to?” Harry turned to the kitchen before he could answer.

She frowned. “I just wanted to help.”

“Don’t worry about it, Harry is just a grump,” she shrugged. “Thank you for the help,” she grinned sweetly. “I’m going to bring Mr. Sour out again but please make yourself at home,” she assured.

People chatted with Gemma for most of the time they ate. She helped Harry carry food out from the kitchen even though he grunted at her in annoyance each time she picked something up. She ignored him making a plate for both herself, and Harry. “Harry come eat,” she held the plates of food in her hands. “Everyone is good for the moment, and you deserve it,” she told him.

He sighed as he always did. Like talking to her was getting a splinter taken out of his hand. He grabbed the plates from her and walked toward the side of the diner where there were two seats open. “Miss Peach, these muffins are delicious!”

She grinned. “Thank you, an old family recipe,” she said sweetly and plucked a piece of bacon from her plate. Harry headed back to the kitchen and she pouted but he returned quickly holding a cup of coffee for her, cooled and iced as always. “Thank you.” Harry sat across from her eating silently, but it was comfortable. Peaceful even. The chatter around them was comforting. “You do this every year?” She asked. He nodded. “It’s nice, Harry, thank you for inviting me,” she grinned. He didn’t look up from his food, but he nodded again, and she was certain the corners of his mouth twitched in an upwards direction.

Harry was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a dark green button down. It brought out the gold specks in his eyes and enhanced how green they were in general. It was her favorite look on him. Given he only seemed to have about six or so shirts in total. His hair was styled just so, so it wouldn’t fall in his face. “Let me get a picture of you and Gemma.”

“No,” he shook his head sipping his orange juice.

“Oh, come on, Harry. She’s your sister.”

He shook his head. “I don’t do pictures.”

She rolled her eyes. “Gemma, would you like a picture with Harry?” She called across the room.

“God, would I!” She hurried over and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She kissed the side of his face and he rolled his eyes but the smile was a little harder to hide that time around. She pulled her phone from her pocket and held it out to get a picture of the siblings.

“Say Merry Christmas!”

Harry smiled, genuinely. Which made her utterly happy. Gemma kissed his cheek again. “I love you, little brother.”

He shook his head as she hurried back to her conversation across the room. Harry cleared his throat and reached into his pocket pulling out a small box, wrapped perfectly, and slid it across the table toward her.

Of course, her gifts for everyone in town that had made her feel so welcomed were at her house. She planned on giving them out at the diner the following morning. Let the day be about family. So she was unprepared and felt terrible that she had nothing for Harry.

But she was also so shocked she simply gaped. “Harry,” she managed. “I don’t—”

“S’not a big deal,” he shrugged. “Caden... he wanted t’make sure y’got a gift. I asked him t’help me pick it out. Told him Santa left a note here since he knows y’here a lot,” he explained. “S’really from Caden.” But it wasn’t. Not really. It was from Harry. The grumpy diner owner who made her pancakes, gave her a hard time because she was a nuisance. “Go on,” he encouraged. She pulled the paper off, revealing a small brown box.

“Your gift is at home,” she told him.

“Y’didn’t need t’get me anything,” he rolled his eyes.

“Of course I did, Harry—”

“Will y’jus’ open it, Peach? Y’making it a huge deal and honestly, s’hardly anything.”

She opened the lid and inside was a square piece of cardboard. A delicate chain draped along the middle of it, holding the small crescent moon charm at the center of a pair of matching earrings. “Harry,” she brushed her finger on the charm. “This is too much,” she frowned knowing that he probably spent way too much on someone who was a pain in his ass.

“Y’do a lot for this town,” he shrugged. “S’the least Caden could do.”

She tilted her head at him. “Thank you,” she plucked the necklace off the cardboard and quickly secured it around her neck. Her ears already had Christmas presents jingling and dangling from the lobes, but the necklace looked delicate and pretty against the top of her shirt. “I’ll bring your gift tomorrow.”

“Whatever helps y’sleep at night, Peach. Y’want more food?” He asked standing and grabbing her plate at the same time.

She played with the charm at the base of her throat and nodded. “Please," she wondered if Harry was aware of how much she truly liked him. How sweet he really was despite the front he put up in front of everyone else. But she supposed for today, since it was Christmas, she would let him play his grumpy self and enjoy the thoughtful gift he bought for her and the yummy food he made.

She hoped this tradition would stick around every year.

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madameevil · 2 days ago

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These are just my own thoughts, I'm not here to try and prove anything is right one way or another.

"Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are our villains. And they are your typical evil for evil’s sake villains."

Those two didn't come across that way to me. Elgar'nan started out as a general of the army against the Titans. He didn't relinquish the power he obtained after that because he believed the Elven people needed guidance ("stern leadership") and that his strength could protect them from future threats. Mythal agreed in the sense that they needed leader to unite their people.

Elves being, as far as we're aware, the first spirits to take on a mortal form were not aware of the potential corruption that would occur. We know this occurs when they can't fulfill their initial purpose. Through this Elgar'nan grows to be a tyrant when he's unable to abide by his initial purpose. What was his initial purpose? Hard to say. Emmrich calls him a "Manifestation of Tyranny." We'd probably have to look into exactly how the spirit corrupted to then deduce what he was prior.

Ghilan'nain was the only (?) mortal elf brought into the pantheon. She used to create living wonders. After she was brought into the pantheon, we know that she grew to be more twisted. She sought to push the boundaries of creation further. Since she was mortal first, I don't think her corruption to "villainy" is like Elgar'nan's. Given the dialogue she has with Solas in one of the memories, I interpreted her need to keep pushing as "I have to continue to prove myself." / "Prove to the others that I actually belong here." because she doesn't have the distinction of being a first-born and immortal.

Now we take these character flaws and we add a dash of blight to them...

The blight comes from the compressed anger and suffering of the titans. It's anger and corruption seeps into the individual and slowly consumes them. So the blight would them amplify any anger those two had pushing them to the extremes. With the codex entries we get featuring letters, Solas's memories with the wolf statues, or his memories in the crossroads that we play through...or even the way Elgar'nan talks to. I wouldn't put them as "evil for evil's sake" villains. I think their character flaws or corruption they faced was simply amplified by the blight. The blight they thought they could control. Which leads me to "A God's Arrogance"

"For some reason. This guy can move a satellite!? And he just let Rook walk away in previous encounters… twice. Ok. Sure."

I think the concept of "A God's Arrogance" explains this fine. They're two individuals who still view themselves as Gods. If they viewed the far more advanced ancient elves as well beneath them then modern elves or any other beings are even lower. If ancient elves were cattle, modern creatures are ants. Why would a God ever think that an ant could be a problem? Why would a God ever think that an army of ants be a problem? From a more "evil" God perspective: If that's not enough then why kill something when you can try to break them down? Why kill them when you can relish in their squirming? And better yet, this one is a pawn to the only being you actually still view as a threat. So why not make them watch you break down their piece slowly?

Now if Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain were actually Gods then perhaps they would have just stepped on the ant and moved on. But they're not. They're pretending to be Gods. They're acting how they think Gods would act. It's honestly a difficult thing to write. Writing Gods in general is hard because we're physically incapable of putting ourselves in the shoes of a being with so much power. Writing someone who is acting like how they think Gods should act and then adding in thousands of years of isolated torture and corruption, is another thing.

"they want to unleash the full force of the Blight onto the world. Because they are evil. And they were thwarted last time they tried to Blight the entire world. Why do they think Blighting the world is a good idea? What’s the point of ruling a world if everyone is dead?"

This also relates to "A God's Arrogance." When we play through Solas's memories in the Crossroads we hear Ghilan'nain claim she can control the blight. That she is somehow stronger and can hone it into something more than just a mindless raging plague. Elgar'nan then continuously reassures her of this fact if you eavesdrop on their conversations at the golden tree thing at the start of the Crossroads. Ghilan'nain believes she can take the blight and control it to not end up with everything/everyone dead. She believes this is the next step in evolution and it's a gift to receive it from her. This isn't "Because they are evil" , to me that is a gross oversimplification of their motivations.

Whether those motivations strike you as compelling is your choice.

"This reveal will surely throw the Andrastian religion into chaos! This puts the very existence of the Maker into question! The Evanuris are a lie; it’s only fair Catholicism—oh, I mean—the Chantry is a lie too. We briefly touch on that in Veilguard… then it is quietly discarded."

The companions do discuss it. The reason they choose not to bring it up is because of how they believe it would impact the elves and there's nothing to gain by throwing the world into further chaos than it already is. The Elves are already discriminated against, then two of their Gods emerge and cause an apocalyptic situation, so why would they then choose to add another target on their back by challenging the chantry? I agreed with the characters here. I don't think it's the right time. I would love to see this lead to a gradual change in future games though!

Whether this reasoning is enough for you, is your choice.

"We never really learn why Solas wants to tear the Veil down, or why he thinks it will help anyone. “The Veil is a wound inflicted upon this world. It must be healed,” he says. And that’s basically all he says about it in Veilguard. [...] His only motivation now seems to be he’s too deep in his sunk-cost fallacy. [...] His role in this tale was over before ours began, and he really is just some relic from a long-past age. He has no role, no purpose in this story. He is here to be thwarted. [...]Solas is never given any nuance or complexity to his actions. Nuance and complexity have actively been taken away. Both him and the Veil are looking like they are the worst things to be in a story: pointless. Why introduce the Veil if it’s just going to remain unchanged? Why introduce a character like Solas, bother humanizing him (for lack of a better term), giving us his backstory, setting him up as a cunning antagonist, only to make him look stupid, then put him on a shelf until the last ten minutes of your game?"

I think there are far more eloquent people who can talk about Solas's role in the story and his motivations. His actions seem heavily based in both The Cycle of Abuse and Survivors Guilt. These are powerful motivators. These motivators also parallel the individual companion stories.

Lucanis has suffered abuse at the hands of his grandmother and family members. Lucanis also has survivors guilt when he believes his grandmother was killed. He tries to avoid it but you hear about it in his mind prison.

Davrin has suffered from institutional abuse. He's convinced his sole purpose in life is to die now. He brings it up constantly. He also suffers from survivors guilt after Weisshaupt. You can talk to him about it when he presents to you the wood carvings of his friends who didn't survive. He even shouts out, something along the lines of "why am I still here when they're not?"

Neve has survivors guilt about what happened to Rana's partner. She talks to you about how everyone around her dies or gets hurt.

Emmrich has survivors guilt about what happened to his parents that leads into his fear of dying. If you choose not to save Manfred, he's heard crying in his room and struggling to accept it.

Bellara has survivors guilt about what happened to her brother. She blames herself for it. She hopes that she can do enough that she'll be able to forgive herself.

I think Taash's story relates to Solas's predicament in a different way. I think their theme of struggling between two worlds whether that be culturally or with their gender can relate to Solas's struggle between the ancient culture he was born into and the modern elven culture he finds himself in. Since I'm not part of the nonbinary community or diaspora community, I can't talk in detail about this from their perspective and won't try to.

With all this in mind, I do think these comparisons help place Solas as a "foil character." Solas's reaction however is DRASTICALLY different from our protagonists (plural for companions included) but also offers a contrast to Rook (our protagonist) who inherits Varric's vision.

With all that though, I don't think his purpose in the narrative is "nothing." Whether making him a foil character was what he should have been or what was desired is up to you.

As for why he wants to tear down the Veil, a lot of it is hidden in subtext. "People are always dying. It's what they do." And it's his fault they are. Solas often always speaks in riddles and literally veils the true meaning. Every time he talks to Rook there's a hidden purpose and meaning behind it. If you analyze it, which others much better at literary analysis than me have, you may find more motivation, complexity, and reasoning. I think picking apart his words adds a good amount of nuance to it as well.

"It really felt like this was the setup they were going for. Solas causes the death of Mythal, and this is his catalyst for creating the Veil, which ushers in a world without magic."

Is that not what happened? Her death was a catalyst to spur his rebellion against the Evanuris. It's her death and service that binds him and why she's required to get the good ending. She has to release him.

"I was expecting a few remaining Titans to wake and join the fight. But we don’t get any of that."

Would have been cool, but since all that seems left of them is the blighted part and that's thoroughly severed, I don't think it would have worked. Without some possession that helps sooth the anger, it's so maddened that it's not quite coherent. I didn't really ever expect them to wake up. I did expect to learn more about them from the Descent DLC in DAI and I did get to learn a lot more! So I was satisfied with that.

"The Veil felt like Chekov’s gun to me. Chekov’s Veil, if you will. It’s been here from the beginning of our tale, the spectre hanging over our protagonists’ heads for multiple games."

To me the Veil was more like a key aspect of World Building. You need to know about it to understand the religions, how magic works, how spirits and possession work, etc. So it makes sense to introduce it as a concept in each game. It takes a beating in the games and we see the effects of that. So in this game, it ending with it being fully repaired. It did have a role, could it have been bigger? Sure.

"It just ends, and everything is the same. I got to the end of Veilguard… and everything was more or less the same as it was at the start of Origins."

I don't know how it is the same. Elves have to reconcile the differences between what they believed and what they now know. They've uncovered ancient artifacts and have a grasp on the Eluvians now which they certainly didn't have in Origins. The blight is forever changed with the Veil fully repaired. There's no more small leak. The Calling is implied to be gone due to this. It's implied that the blight can be cured or slowly die away instead of lingering. Which brings me to this...

"The Veil isn’t even a permanent solution. It wasn’t to begin with. It was some duct tape wrapped around a broken pipe, and we’ve just slapped an extra piece of tape on it. It’s still leaking. It is still unnatural, and will fall eventually one way or another.

It feels like keeping the Veil up just pushed a big problem onto Thedas’ future generations. We’ll keep slapping bandaids on it until it all falls apart. Someone else can deal with the fallout, but we’ll be dead by then, so who cares."

It is fully repaired now though. It's reinforced. It's not us slapping duct tape on it like we did with elven relics in DAI. The ending tells us this. Now this doesn't stop people from doing what the magisters did and poking holes in it in the future, but we also don't know how Solas (and possibly Inky) presence will affect it. Will it help prevent holes? Will it help ease the blight even more? There's a lot of room to expand on these, but it'll take time for the world to change. So I expect any consequences in future games - not immediate.

"For some reason, this game seemed terrified of letting us think about anything for more than two seconds. It shied away from complexity or nuance at every turn."

I actually think the game had a lot of complexity and nuance just perhaps, not in the way many went in expecting. There was complexity in the companions and their stories, how it intertwined with the overarching narrative and Solas's. How grief and regret shape a person. How all the propaganda the South had been feeding us for years wasn't always accurate. It's different from "moral complexity" of previous games but if I'm being honest, I never found the previous games to be morally complex. There was a clear cut "good" option and a clear cut "bad" option. Literally some choices people gush about boils down to "Is slavery bad? Yes or No?" ... it's bad guys. It's not complex. It's bad. "Is forced imprisonment from childhood bad? Yes or No?.... yes. Imprisoning children in a tower with police brutality is bad. It's not complex. It's always been pretty black or white. The complexity typically came from the factions we interacted with. The Wardens portrayed as glorious heroes have a darker side to them. We saw it in Origins. We see it in DAI. We see it in DAV with the Griffons. This organization isn't all white. It's more of a grey.

Meanwhile the opposite occurs with the crows. We get horrendous portrayals of them in DAO, DAII, and a little bit in DAI and yet we interact with a different family and we see, no this organization isn't actually all black. It's more of a grey.

All of that is still present and emphasized in DAV. I think the game just decided not to shove it in your face like it did in other games. It's more subtle but to me it's still there.

"The game is called The Veilguard—ironically, that word is never uttered in the game—but we are given no real motive for guarding the Veil. We’re unquestionably the hero. The villains are uncomplicatedly evil. Save the world… never wonder what you are doing or why."

I honestly don't know why they would ever utter the phrase "Veilguard" specifically and why that should be a bad thing that they don't. It would just feel like an "Avengers Assemble" moment or forced in. Further more and relating to this piece:

"I wanted the game to make me question if the Veil staying up or coming down was the right choice. I needed to be given a real counter argument. Convince me the alternative would actually be better or worse, because as I mentioned…"

I don't think the game was ever going to be that. You are picked by Varric. Varric who watched what the Kirkwall companions did. Who watched what happened to the Inquisition. Varric who was going to go try and stop this friend from making a mistake when he couldn't in the past. The person Varric brought on the team wasn't going to be evil. They weren't going to disagree with his vision. They weren't going to go against him. They were going to be his second in command and by into what he told them. He is after all a famous storyteller. Viewing it as Rook is an extension of Varric and tasked with carrying on Varric's role...it limits the characters available. I don't necessarily mind this, but I think it's a big reason why people go so far as to say "it's not an RPG" which is honestly just disgusting. It is an RPG. You can't call Monster Hunter or FF that have little to no story or choice impact RPGs but not this.

In addition to that and to talk about this:

"They are surprisingly patient while Rook fixes all their companions’ problems…"

Which is talking about our two escaped gods again, it's just QoL for the Game. It's a game first and foremost. Would you prefer everything be on a timer? Maybe you would, but many wouldn't. Many gamers actively hate timed quests. So this isn't a narrative reason so much as a gameplay reason. They want to give you time to do the quests. The same thing happens in all the other games. "Ah god we have to get to the top of the tower! ASAP!" - yea yea hold on I have to loot all 5 of these bodies and all these crates over here and do one last glance over. OR "Oh dear the empress is going to be assassinated we have to move quickly!" - Uh huh yea I get that but let me spend about 10 more hours in the Hinterlands trying to kill this fucking dragon. Not ever decision in the game is a narrative one. This one isn't.

How does this relate to the choice of the Veil coming down or staying up? This was never going to be a choice. The impact it would have would be too drastically different that there'd be no way to reconcile it in future games. You'd have to make two completely different games for that choice. So they were going to choose one or the other. In the end they chose this. Would the opposite have been cool? Maybe! Or it could have been the end of the world like that one proposed ending in the Artbook where everything is obliterated. I mean people are already pissed that "their world state is destroyed in the south" imagine the outcry if the whole world was wiped with the veil coming down. There just doesn't seem a good way to make this work for everyone or keep it a choice. Unfortunately.

Now that that's all done. These are just my thoughts and how I interpreted it. Part of the beauty of art and games by extension is that they should be open to multiple interpretations. There should be discussions surrounding the narrative that aren't just masked bigotry. And with that, Ima log off Tumblr since this too me way to long...and no I'm not going to reread it to make sure it's coherent. Ima just send it.

Castles in the Fade, or What Was the Point of the Veil Anyway

Something that will now haunt me until the end of time is why was the concept of the Veil ever introduced into this series.

We’ve been hearing about it since the very first game. There’s a codex entry about tears in the Veil in Origins. Tamlen mentions a thin spot in the Veil if you play a Dalish elf. Sandal has a prophecy in Dragon Age 2: “One day the magic will come back—all of it. Everyone will be just like they were. The shadows will part and the skies will open wide. When he rises, everyone will see.” Admittedly, this is just one line said by a character who often says odd things, but it hinted to the fact they were planning to do something with the Veil from the very beginning. The state of the Veil is repeatedly brought up. It all had to mean something! Or so I thought.

When I saw “The Dread Wolf Rises” quest in Veilguard, I said, “Oh, here we go!” The Veil is coming down, magic is coming back, and it’s going to set up such an interesting story for the next game.

Alas, no.

I hadn’t really enjoyed my time playing Veilguard up until this point. It felt like the game was ducking and dodging every bit of world building and lore that could possibly bring nuance or complexity to the story. Every returning character or faction was a cardboard cutout of themself. They shoved Solas is a time-out box and gave him nothing to do. They refused to let him have any impact or influence on the story when he had been set up to be our main antagonist back in Trespasser. This game used to be called Dreadwolf! And while we learn about his past… we never talk to him about it. In the present, he’s in stasis.

Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are our villains. And they are your typical evil for evil’s sake villains. They are mad, bad, and only as dangerous as the narrative will allow as to not give Rook and co too much trouble. They are surprisingly patient while Rook fixes all their companions’ problems… until Elgar’nan moves the moon to cause an eclipse. A vital component in making his own lyrium dagger. For some reason. This guy can move a satellite!? And he just let Rook walk away in previous encounters… twice. Ok. Sure.

The Evil Duo need their own dagger ostensibly to tear down the Veil, because they want to unleash the full force of the Blight onto the world. Because they are evil. And they were thwarted last time they tried to Blight the entire world. Why do they think Blighting the world is a good idea? What’s the point of ruling a world if everyone is dead? I guess they haven’t thought that through, because of the madness and the evilness.

Ok, I thought. Perhaps the gods will be the one to tear down the Veil. Or maybe we’ll have a choice to let Solas do it his way before they can, which will be less chaotic and less full of Blight. Because the Veil has to be coming down one way or another? Why introduce the concept of the Veil, especially a Veil that has been thinning and failing since the series began, if it’s just going to… stay.

There is a principle in storytelling called Chekov’s gun. If something is mentioned in a story, it must have a purpose. If you keeping mentioning that gun hanging on the wall over the fireplace, it’s because at some point in the story, someone is going to take it down and use it. The Veil felt like Chekov’s gun to me. Chekov’s Veil, if you will. It’s been here from the beginning of our tale, the spectre hanging over our protagonists’ heads for multiple games.

The Veil has been a character unto itself. It was the central focus of the third game, and its dissolution was set up to be the core conflict of the fourth game. We learn everything we thought we knew about the Veil was a lie. It was not created by the Maker to separate the Fade from this world because of jealous spirits, it was created by a guy named Solas to trap the elven gods and the Blight from destroying the world. Also, the elven gods were never gods, and they are also evil.

This reveal will surely throw the Andrastian religion into chaos! This puts the very existence of the Maker into question! The Evanuris are a lie; it’s only fair Catholicism—oh, I mean—the Chantry is a lie too. We briefly touch on that in Veilguard… then it is quietly discarded. Religious crisis averted.

But I digress.

When the title of the fourth game was changed from Dreadwolf to Veilguard, I started to see the writing on the wall. Still, I held out hope the Veil would have some greater purpose in the story. That its introduction as a concept was for a reason. That something in this world would change.

Instead, from the get-go, the question of the Veil is no question at all. We only get Solas and Varric making oblique or catastrophizing statements about it. Solas says little beyond he has a plan. If I ever wanted to hear a villain monologue about their plan, it was now! Varric, on the other hand, decries Solas’s plan. He warns that should the Veil fall, it will destroy the world and drown it in demons. And that’s that.

We never really learn why Solas wants to tear the Veil down, or why he thinks it will help anyone. “The Veil is a wound inflicted upon this world. It must be healed,” he says. And that’s basically all he says about it in Veilguard. In Inquisition and Trespasser, we learn it took the immortality from the elves. It cut most of magic off from the world. Spirits are trapped and are being corrupted into demons, and most of what we know about spirits and demons is wrong. There are ancient elves possibly asleep? That part is left vague, but ancient elves are still about. We meet some in Mythal’s temple. There seems to have been some merit in bringing it down, because elves were flocking to Solas’s cause at the end of Trespasser. He had agents working for him already. What do they know that we don’t know?

Apparently nothing, because by the time Veilguard rolls around, there are no mention of agents. He is working alone. His only motivation now seems to be he’s too deep in his sunk-cost fallacy. The Veil is unnatural, so it must be removed—consequences be damned. We are never given any reason to think Solas has a leg to stand on in his pursuit of tearing down the Veil. We never hear any kind of counter argument from anyone, not even Solas, as to why the Veil should come down. We are only told it will destroy the world. It will drown the world in demons. This is all Solas’s fault.

There is no nuance. No complexity. No moral quandary to mull over. The game gives us vague warnings with no explanation as to what exactly is so world-annihilating about the Veil coming down. We must take Varric’s word at face value. We’re the heroes; Solas is the villain. Stop him.

It makes me wonder why Solas was ever a companion in Inquisition, let alone a romance option. Solas was presented to us as a complicated character in Inquisition. We had the potential throughout the game to make him see the value of this world, to help him realize he was wrong about it. “We aren’t even people to you,” the Inquisitor says in Trespasser. Solas replies, “Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong...again.” He began the third game viewing the world as tranquil, seeing the people in it as nothing more than figments in a nightmare, just as we saw our companions in the In Hushed Whispers quest. He ends the game having made friends, having recognized he was mistaken. He might have even fallen in love. (Or he may still seen no merit in this world if the Inquisitor antagonized him the entirety of their time together.) But something makes him continue with his plan to tear down the Veil, despite recognizing this world is real. He must know something we don’t. Something we’ll learn about in the next game.

We’ve been hearing about the Veil for three games now. We’ve set up our complex antivillain for the next installment, and he’s going to tear the Veil down. We swear to stop him or save him. But it has to be more complex than that. It can’t be so straightforward. Uncomplicated. Simple. Boring. Right? Right?

Nope. He really is just the villain, mustache-twirling and all. He apparently had no greater motivation, no as of yet unrevealed knowledge that would put this whole Veil thing into a new context. It was really as simple as the Veil falling will destroy the world, so Solas must be stopped. There is no new information that is revealed which makes us question what we are doing. Solas is never given any nuance or complexity to his actions. Nuance and complexity have actively been taken away. Both him and the Veil are looking like they are the worst things to be in a story: pointless. Why introduce the Veil if it’s just going to remain unchanged? Why introduce a character like Solas, bother humanizing him (for lack of a better term), giving us his backstory, setting him up as a cunning antagonist, only to make him look stupid, then put him on a shelf until the last ten minutes of your game?

Solas was the trickster archetype of this tale. He was our version of Loki from Norse mythology. What is the role of the trickster archetype? To challenge the status quo. To bring about events of extreme change, like say, the tearing down of a Veil that holds back all of magic. Loki is a huge contributing factor in Ragnarök. Through his manipulation, he causes the death of the beloved god, Baldr. This ushers in a long winter, which signifies the beginning of the end. Loki is imprisoned for this crime. When the final battle between gods and giants begins, the sun and moon are swallowed, plunging the earth into darkness. The earth shakes and Loki is freed to fight on the side of the giants. The world burns in raw chaos, falls beneath the sea, and is reborn. The world is remade, and a new realm of the gods and a new, better earth is formed.

It really felt like this was the setup they were going for. Solas causes the death of Mythal, and this is his catalyst for creating the Veil, which ushers in a world without magic. This could be seen as equivalent to the long winter. Solas falls asleep, trapped in dreams. He wakes and sets in motion bringing about the apocalypse. It’s not a perfect one to one, but it’s there if you squint. We have a war against the gods in Veilguard. I was expecting a few remaining Titans to wake and join the fight. But we don’t get any of that. There is a final battle, but it does not end in the end of the world. Or a better world. It just ends, and everything is the same.

It seems our trickster god caused his apocalypse thousands of years before our story started, when he created the Veil. His role in this tale was over before ours began, and he really is just some relic from a long-past age. He has no role, no purpose in this story. He is here to be thwarted. He is no Loki at all.

If you can’t tell, I wanted the Veil to come down. Did I think the Veil coming down would be painless? Have no negative consequences? No. Of course not. But keeping it up has negative consequences too. And it made for an interesting story. Or at least it could have. But we never explore that. The game presents no counter argument to having the Veil stay up, which, again, begs the question: what was the point of introducing the concept of the Veil at all?

Did I think the Veil coming down was actually the best solution to help Thedas become a better place? I don’t know, and I never will, because the game never argues for it one way or another. It just tells you to want it in place and to stop asking questions. In real life, a catastrophic event is not the best way to solve any of the world’s problems. But this is the realm of fiction. We have gods and monsters, magic and myth. We have introduced the status quo of Thedas, recognized it needs to change, then our trickster god appears ready to fulfill his role in the narrative.

Instead, it all comes to nothing.

I got to the end of Veilguard… and everything was more or less the same as it was at the start of Origins. Veilguard actually tries its hardest to pretend any previously mentioned problems don’t exist, so of course the Veil coming down has no merit. There are no problems to solve in this world, apparently. Solas is just stuck in the past and can’t get with the times. Silly Solas.

The Veil isn’t even a permanent solution. It wasn’t to begin with. It was some duct tape wrapped around a broken pipe, and we’ve just slapped an extra piece of tape on it. It’s still leaking. It is still unnatural, and will fall eventually one way or another. Large amounts of bloodshed weaken it, so I guess Thedas better achieve world peace real quick to avoid any battles. There were seven super-powered mages holding it together… now there is just one. Ironically, the Veil was going to fall after two more Blights anyway. The Wardens were doing Solas’s work for him! It would also have released the full force of the Blight at that time… which Solas was trying to avoid, I presume.

Primarily, I wanted the Veil to come down from a storytelling perspective. The Veil was an interesting concept and I wanted the story to do something interesting with it. Conflict is what makes stories stories and the Veil coming down could create so much compelling and complex conflict. And the Fade is weird, and I like weird. Stories are also about change, and I wanted to see Thedas change. Yet, Veilguard is over, and barely anything has changed. Instead of magic coming back being a conflict for the next game, they went with Fantasy Illuminati. Oh.

The Veil turned out to be a nothing-burger, and no problems in this world are even close to being solved. Slavery is still rampant in Tevinter. The elven people are still oppressed everywhere. Mages have no more rights in the South than they did in Origins. Spirits are still trapped and being corrupted. The Calling still exists, though might be different somehow now? They don’t really get into that. The Chantry’s validity is still not allowed to be questioned. The Blight still exists in some form, but again it’s vague. Oh, and we learn the dwarves have been gravely wronged, and the Titans are still tranquil. At least if you redeem Solas and a romanced Lavellan joins him, they can work together on healing the Blight and helping the Titans. Oh, good. One problem is being acknowledged and some action will be taken. Offscreen. Hurray? Solas doesn’t have a really great track record of fixing problems, so Lavellan is definitely going to need to be there to make sure he doesn’t fuck it up.

For some reason, this game seemed terrified of letting us think about anything for more than two seconds. It shied away from complexity or nuance at every turn. The game is called The Veilguard—ironically, that word is never uttered in the game—but we are given no real motive for guarding the Veil. We’re unquestionably the hero. The villains are uncomplicatedly evil. Save the world… never wonder what you are doing or why.

I wanted the game to make me question if the Veil staying up or coming down was the right choice. I needed to be given a real counter argument. Convince me the alternative would actually be better or worse, because as I mentioned… things suck quite a bit in Thedas already for a lot of people right now. Let the Veil’s fate be a difficult choice to make. If the conflict cannot be what to do about the Veil, it should be am I doing the right thing about the Veil. If the heart of your game is so thin on motive, everything else falls apart around it.

I hoped they were setting up a complex, Thedas-sized existential conflict for this game in Trespasser, but no. I wanted something to happen, but nothing did.

I want to feel challenged and changed by a story, not left feeling empty. I’m tired of superficial entertainment. I want to sink my teeth into a narrative that doesn’t paint the world in broad strokes of black and white, good and evil, heroes and villains.

Ultimately, I think my issue is why even introduce a concept like The Veil if you’re not going to do anything interesting with it. Or anything at all. What I thought was Chekov’s Veil turned out to just be a MacGuffin. And that’s disappointing.

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #datv spoilers

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myrruwrites · 2 days ago

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A winters night.

. . . Caitlyn x Reader.

CW: SFW, a bit suggestive & references to sex briefly, but it’s mainly fluff. A bit of comfort (r!receiving). Caitlyn walks in on you baking her a surprise on your anniversary. :^)

WC: 1.06K | CC: 5.7K | Proofread: No.. | Notes: this is my first time writing a reader x character fic. One of my first times writing romance at all, actually. I normally write warrior cats. But I wanna branch out to my other interests, one of which is arcane. I hope you like it! | MEN DNI.

It’s starting to get late out, the sun setting. The kitchen’s dim candles are the only things leaving the room barley visible, although, you don’t go to turn the main light on. You’re much too busy for that. You’re working hard making a pie for your girlfriend, Caitlyn. It’s Apple and cinnamon, her favourite. It also happens to be the same dish you made her on your first date. You had worried you’d come onto her too hard, but much to your surprise, she was impressed.

While sprinkling the cinnamon onto the apple mixture, your mind can’t help but drift to Caitlyn. "I wonder what she’s doing right now?" you ask yourself. She’s still at work, you’re positive of that. At least you think you are. You shake your head slightly, as if it’d help you clear your mind. You have to finish the pie before she gets home, even if it’s the last thing you do.

You slowly mix the pie filling, folding it. As you do, you notice the time. "7:30.." you murmur, gulping. Caitlyn finishes work at 7:00 on Tuesdays, she’d be home soon. "Shit, shit, shit." you think to yourself, your breath strained. You try to press on, working harder, faster.

15 minuets later, as you’re beginning to plat the top-crust of the pie, you hear the front door creek open. Is Cait home already? She can’t be, you’re not ready. This isn’t how you had planned it. You were meant to present her with a slice of her favourite pie as she came home from work, snuggling up to her on the couch as you play a movie you both enjoy. This is not what was meant to happen, she wasn’t meant to be home yet. Had it been a Monday, Thursday, or even Friday, she’d be home at 9:00. You’d have more than enough time to finish your plan. But on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, you’re not so lucky.

Before you can start to panic, Caitlyn drops her bag off on the couch. She begins to slide off her uniform, and your gaze immediately begins to take in her curves. Her under-shirt rides up slightly, revealing the soft skin of her stomach. You feel almost sad as she pulls it back down, folding her uniform neatly as she hangs it up to wash later. You gulp, caught off-guard.

"Y/N, you home?" Caitlyn calls out, due to you not greeting her. Suddenly, you realise you hadn’t even said hello. You yell out quickly, almost shakily "I’m in the kitchen! Welcome home, honey!". How hadn’t you done that when she first walked in? You always do. Well.. you know why. You remember the sight seeing you did earlier. How could you not? The way her shirt clung to her body..

Your thoughts are cut off as she walks into the kitchen, she reaches for her ponytail, undoing it. Her eyebrow tilts as she realises you’re baking, a soft grin forming on her face. "What’re you making?" She asks, walking up to you. Her arm wraps around your waist, her hair brushing against your neck. "What do you think it is?" You tease, looking down at the pie. Caitlyn scoffs slightly, before tugging your waist slightly, pulling you against her. "Is it really the pie?". Her phrasing makes you giggle slightly, your hand reaching to cover your mouth. As you do so, her hand meets yours, moving it away from your lips. "Now, don’t go covering such a pretty sight."

The air practically became thicker, a slight blush creeping up your neck. She breaks the silence with a quick peck on the lips, as you lean into it you feel it deepen. Suddenly, you break away from the kiss. "I have to finish baking. How about we.. continue this after?" You explain to her about wanting the pie to be done earlier, but forgot to makeup for her early finish from work. She reaches to cup your cheek, turning you to face her. Her thumb strokes close to your lips. "It’s a sweet gesture, don’t upset yourself."

You smile softly, noticing the sincerity in her eyes. She’s really not mad. You start to think about it, why would you assume she’d be mad in the first place? Caitlyn has always been sweet to you, always patient. You kiss her softly, before quickly turning back around, hiding the stunned look on your face. She lets out a small laugh, her hand still resting on your waist. She watches with awe as you bake, "I’m so glad you can cook, because I sure as hell can’t. Thank you for this, by the way."

You don’t turn to face her while replying, clearly still engrossed in baking, "I was planning to make something, it’s our anniversary after all. And the thought of pie reminded me of you." you admit with a smile. "Well isn’t that cute," she nudges your hip, before releasing it. "Let me help you with that." she moves to the side of you, gently taking the pie out of your hands. She bends down by the oven, putting it in with a smile before turning to you, "there, now I can have your full attention."

As the night wares on, you watch a movie with Caitlyn. It’s Scream, a shared favourite. You still flinch every time at the jumpscares, your nails digging into Caitlyn’s shirt. Her arms drape around you before pulling you closer. "Scaredy-cat, huh?", she teases. It causes you to smile slightly, amused by her tone. For the rest of the movie, you cling to her tighter. She mocks you for it, but you can tell she secretly loves having you in her arms. She plants a kiss on your forehead, holding you closer than ever. You start to wonder, would tonight be the night? The night you two finally.. you know. You shake your head, burying it in her neck as the next jumpscare hits. As time passes, your eyes begin to feel droopy, and you can’t help but think you could stay like this forever. Your body begins to relax into Caitlyn’s touch, her hand stroking your hair. She smiles softly at you as you begin to fall asleep, your eyes fluttering to a close.

Maybe another time. Tonight, you just want to be held, and she just wants to show you how much she cares for you.

I hope you liked ittt.. its my first time posting my writing. If you do like it, feel free to request! I really wanna write more, it’s something I really enjoy. I wasn’t quite sure where to end this fic, and I would’ve made it longer, honestly I don’t know why I didn’t. I can always make a PT2 if anyone’s interested. Thank you for reading! Reblogs & likes are appreciated.

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sseulforgii · 2 days ago

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stay a little longer

Kim Minjeong x Reader

a/n: I just have Rosé’s album on repeat and I can’t get this out of my head. I'm sorry, I know it's Christmas 😭

thank you @rd0265667 and @seullovesme for going over this first. mwa!

Minjeong woke up from a fitful sleep. It's been days since she's been like this, a heavy pit in her stomach whenever she wakes up. She looks over to where you are sleeping turned away from her. You were in the same bed and yet you seem so far away from each other. With a heavy sigh she got out of bed and started to get ready for the day.

Unbeknownst to Minjeong, you have been awake too. In fact, you haven't slept for days since you felt something shift in your relationship but you kept it all to yourself. You found yourself just watching her sleep sometimes seeing how peaceful she is and you wish nothing more for her to always have that kind of peace even as you swallow a lump forming in your throat and tears forming in your eyes. You made yourself smaller on your side of the bed when you felt her move and pretended to sleep. It was easier that way. You didn't wanna see her pretend to be okay this early in the morning, as much as you can, you'd give her space.

When Minjeong was dressed and ready to go, she stood by the door of your bedroom looking at you curled up on the bed. She doesn't know how to feel or what to do so she just looked at you for a little while more before eventually deciding to go near you.

You heard her footsteps coming and you were surprised but tried to breathe evenly. You didn't want to move 'cause you didn't wanna startle her and lose a brief moment you might share.

Minjeong crouched down in front of you and traced your cheek with her finger. She smiled a little, your cheeks were still her favorite to pinch and poke after all. She contemplated on kissing your forehead but decided against it in case you suddenly wake up. She was in no state to see your sleepy brown eyes staring back at her. So she got up and looked at you one last time before leaving.

You were holding your breathe the whole time as well as the tears that's starting to form in your eyes. You wished so bad that she would either stop or just kiss you and shower you with affection. But you felt her move and heard her receding footsteps. When the door finally closed, you felt your tears flowing. You were catching your breath by the time you realized you were crying and you didn't know how to stop.

Minjeong was trying her best to act normal around you. She really wanted this to work out, but somewhere down the road she fell out of love. She feels so guilty about it and she tries her hardest to keep you happy and not let you know anything's wrong. She's thinking she'll be able to keep it up long enough for her to go back to how she feels for you. After all, she was the one who wanted you first so why does it feel like this now for her? And she can tell that you love her still with every smile and every affection thrown at her, and yet she feels like you're holding yourself back at times. It makes her wonder if you can feel it too - that subtle shift somewhere.

You and Minjeong weren't always like this. You're such a goofy pair - a perfect match as your friends say. You were both so smart and share almost the same likes. You always loved how witty and creative Minjeong is. Minjeong adores how sweet and kind you are. While Minjeong is quiet at times, you are bustling with energy and talks a lot and she listens to you with so much adoration in her eyes that you tend to shy away at times or get conscious about it. But she always assures you that she loves it. Both of you balance each other out that way.

Recently, you often get conscious about talking too much when you spend time with her, that you tend shy away and just sit quietly at dinner or when watching a movie with her. Only this time, there's only guilt in Minjeong's eyes that she's trying so hard to hide from you. Now you're both walking on a tightrope trying your hardest not to let each other fall off.

You were both trying. Minjeong, so clueless of what you are feeling, thinks she can still salvage what's left of your relationship. You, on the other hand, are just barely keeping it together although you know it's probably time to let her go.

So you made up your mind. You planned a perfect weekend together, which surprised Minjeong but she went along with it thinking maybe this is a good thing for the both of you. While in your mind, you're already pleading that this will make her stay with you longer, even though you know it is a battle you already lost.

You cooked all her favorite food, watched her favorite movie, talked about her work, and played lots of games. It was fun for the both of you. You were both genuinely smiling and laughing, but you can see the sadness behind it. You can sense how bittersweet the day was as it came to an end.

You smiled at Minjeong and took her hand as you guided her outside the balcony to look at the night sky. She was looking at you, you can feel it. You sighed and looked at her as you hold back tears. "Thank you for such a wonderful day, Minjeong." You say as you rub circles on the back of her hand. A nervous habit you sort of picked up when you're trying to soothe both her and yourself. She smiles at you, "of course. I had fun today."

You take a shaky breath and look out the horizon. "Minjeong, can I ask you something?" Her brows furrowed as she squeezed your hand. "Of course, baby. What is it?" She asks, and you almost melt as your tears start to well up when you heard her call you baby. You stumble over your words, trying to form a coherent thought. Minjeong looks over at you worriedly and squeezes your hand once more.

“I don’t know how to form it into words,” you confess. Minjeong tries her best to soothe you, “it’s okay, baby. Just try and I’ll understand.” You look at her and you see worry and guilt swimming in her eyes. It was all the push that you needed to finally let her go.

“Minjeongie, are you…” you choked back a sob and looked elsewhere before continuing. “Are you happy?” It was followed by complete and utter silence. You were scared to look over at her and so you continue after taking a huge breath. “Do you still want this? Us? Because honestly, Minjeong, you can tell me if this is no longer what you want. I’d rather lose you than see you so unhappy.”

You closed your eyes for a bit and steadied your breathing before risking a peak at the girl beside you. She was looking ahead with such somber eyes that it broke your heart further and cemented the thought that this was the right thing to do. “Have you been feeling that way for a long time now?” She softly asked. You owed her the truth no matter how much you wanna sugar coat everything. “Yeah, for a while now,” you replied just as quietly - afraid that if you say it louder it will become more true.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. You shake your head smiling at her although you’re in the brink of breaking down. “It’s nothing to be sorry about. If anything, I’m sorry. I knew for a while now and I still held on. I wanted you to stay a little longer, but each passing day I feel I’m being more of a burden than a rest for you and I don’t want that.” Minjeong held on to you tighter, trying to convey her feelings as she knows she won’t be able to put it into words.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers again and you close your eyes as you feel her pull you in for a hug. You savor the moment, for you know this is all you have left. So with the last bit of your strength, you enveloped her tighter and you stayed this way for a little bit longer before you catch your breath and let her go.

#kim minjeong #kim minjeong x reader #aespa minjeong #winter aespa #aespa winter #aespa x reader #aespa #aespa fanfic #kim winter #winter x reader #gn reader #aespa imagines #sseulforgii~wordvomit

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insomniadreamzz · 1 day ago

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Hi!

What do you think about Jinx x fem reader SNOWBALL FIGHT! I feel like it could be really fun. Maybe it could end getting tackled by Jinx and kissing in the snow!

This is just a thought I had, hope you have a great day!!!

Omg thats such a cute idea 😭😭❤️

———

Snowball fight

Jinx x Fem!Reader fluff

You hated that cold weather, you only went out because Jinx really wanted to go out in the snow with you and of course you couldn’t say no to her.

You hated the way that you couldn’t say no as the cold aur hit your face, only thing being warm was your hand which was holding Jinx‘s hand. Sometimes you wonder how she could do this, being out there without a jacket, clothed like always. You could figure out that she was already used to feeling cold so every attempt to make her wear warm clothing before going out failed.

„Jinx…you sure you’re not cold?“ You ask her the millionth time now, making her roll her eyes and a little grunt leaving her lips. „Nooo I am not“ She answered, letting go of your hand as she stormed through the snow, your legs freezing at only the look of her stomping through it as if it was nothing. You sighed, sometimes Jinx‘s inner child really took all of you but she was cute. You closed your eyes as you hugged herself, trying to warm yourself up before you felt something cold hit your face, followed by Jinx laughing at you.

„Oopsie! Your face is all white now toots!!“ She yelled at you, already having another snow ball in her hand. „You little-…“ You started with a chuckle but then decided to stop, forming a snowball in your hands before aiming at her. Of course Jinx used her shimmer for better speed so you didn’t hit her, only getting hit by another snowball of her.

„Hey! That’s not fair stop using your shimmer.“ You said, but there was still a smile on your face, already ready to throw again. „Well…okay I won’t do that again. Fair play.“ Jinx answered, giving in quickly and not wanting to be unfair towards you.

You both keep on throwing snowballs at each other, playing in the snow like little kids, letting both of your inner child out right now and it was beautiful, you even forgot about the cold, managing to hit Jinx every now and then as well.

You tried to dodge her attacks with a chuckle, running away from her to get a little time to form more nowballs but Jinx was already running after you, tripping over her own feet as she fell on you, making you both fall on the snow with a thud. Both of you laughing. Jinx lifted her head up, her hands on your shoulders as she looked down at you with a cute smile. „Got ya.“ She giggled and you moved your hands up in defense. „Alright alright I surrender. What does the winner want?“ You asked jokingly but she took your question serious. „Uhh…a kiss.“ She mentioned and the smile on your face couldn’t be wider.

You both kissed in the snow, both feeling warm and exhausted after the little game. It was a beautiful moment, you cupped her cheeks, pulling her more closer to kiss her even deeper, a hum leaving her lips. You both look at each other as you pulled back, both of your faces being red, probably because of the cold and the intimate moment you shared seconds ago. „I love you.“ You told her and she pecked your lips in response. „I love you too Toots.“

After admiring each other for a little more, Jinx got off you and helped you up. „How about getting home now into bed under our warm sheets?“ You suggested and Jinx nodded. „Yep! And maybe more cuddles??“

„Of course.“ You won‘t ever say no to cuddling, you loved it but of course you also know what cuddling meant especially when Jinx said it…knowing you will soon feel very hot.

You both made your way back home, holding hands like a fresh couple. You will always love her like the first time you fell for her.

#x reader #fanfiction #female reader #x fem!reader #short imagine #lgbtq #arcane #arcane fanfic #jinx #jinx x fem!reader #jinx x y/n #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx x you #short story #shorts #arcane imagine #wlw post #wlw

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vinylfoxbooks · 1 day ago

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25 Days of Jegumas | Day 1 | Day 22 December 23 - Family Gathering | @noblehouseofgay | wc: 825

“Baby,” James asks, “Are you ready?”

“I don’t get why you’re making me wear this.” Regulus sighs as they walk into the room, turning around to show them the sweater he’s wearing.

James rolls their eyes, “We’re going to see my family, as you do every year. This sweater isn’t nearly as bad as the one that Sirius made you wear your first year with us. It’s just for a night and we’ll all look like fucking dorks. Besides, you like seeing me in these and your son looks pretty cute.”

Regulus sighs, “Fine, I guess.”

“You and your little dramatics.” James shakes their head, reaching for and grabbing his hand. They guide him out of their room and down to where Harry is working to put his shoes on. James and Regulus put their own shoes on and finish helping the boy, bringing him out into the car.

“Where did you even find these for us?” Regulus asks as James starts driving, looking down at his sweater then over to his son.

James hums, “Mum has like a… supplier of weird ugly sweaters that she conjures every year. This is her best work yet.”

“They’re monsters.”

“And that’s what makes them the best. Just wait until you see what your brother forced Remus into.” They grin, reaching to turn up the radio, leaving cheesy Christmas music absolutely blasting until they pull up to the Potter residency.

Regulus has always loved this house, even just the outside. There was something to it that just pulled him the first time that he found himself at the house, teary and weak and battered. He had stood outside the house, just at the end of the walkway like now, staring at the exterior of the house that he knew his brother was safely in for a while, wondering if he should pull away and leave and find somewhere else to stay.

But then he had seen James and Sirius in the window, what he now knows to be Sirius’ room, moving around in nonsensical and sloppy circles and he could hear the sound of music echoing through the window that was cracked open. And he could see a tall man doing something in what looked like a study and a woman in the kitchen dancing with a dish in her hands and his feet made the decision for him.

James is the one to knock on the door this time, pushing it open after a minute. The little family enters and takes off their shoes and their coats before heading into the house. Effie is putting up a couple decorations and they can hear Monty clattering around and singing along to more Christmas music in the kitchen. James is the first to grab their mum’s attention, walking up to her gently and taking the decorations from her hands to pull into a hug. The woman grins and embraces her kid, pressing a kiss to their cheek before pulling away and moving to hug Regulus then pick up her grandson and shower his face with kisses. Monty comes out not long after to greet them joyfully.

It’s not long after that that Sirius and Remus show up in their even more atrocious sweaters, Lily, Pandora, and Luna showing up not long after. There are few people that can pull off these stupid Christmas sweaters, but for some reason, James, Effie, Monty, Lily, and Pandora are able to effortlessly. Maybe it’s the confidence and the enjoyment that they get in wearing their sweaters.

Either way, the family all settles down to talk while dinner finishes up, migrating into the dining room once it’s all ready. Effie takes a moment to talk about how grateful she is to have this many people part of her family, that she had always thought it would just be her, Monty, James, and James’ future family. But not the two boys that Effie and Monty opened their home to and the woman that James at one point loved and their partners and kids. Effie gets a bit teary, “We were so happy to be able to have just one kid, you all know that we struggled with it, but here we are. With six wonderful children and two beautiful grandbabies.” She reaches out to grab gently at James’ hand, “I’m so grateful for you and everyone that you’ve brought into our home.” And Regulus has to reach over and give his partner a tissue before they, and subsequently Sirius, start bawling at the table.

When they finish with dinner, the family settles in the living room with a literal tower of board games -- only the ones that are still allowed, though Regulus is sure that another one will get banned this year with this group -- and play until they’re all too tired to continue. Then they all head into the rooms that they still have at the Potters’ home and settle in for the night.

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abbysimsfun · 1 day ago

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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 115 (Getting Cozy With New Friends?)

The events of this post occurred after New Year's Eve at the Salty Paw (Generation 2 Pts. 106 and 107).

After an eventful holiday season, Heather Nesbitt phoned her youngest sister on New Year's Day. Hazel checked the call display and forced a smile. "Hey Big Sis, what are you up to?"

"Hey, Little Dandelion. Just watching the Holiday Yule Log on repeat (totally autonomously) before I do some bookkeeping for the clinic. Helps me focus, and they haven't taken it off the air yet this year. How are you doing?"

"Pretty awful," Hazel admitted. "I'm sorry we just left without saying goodbye last night. We were too busy giving each other the cold shoulder all the way back to Henford."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got home safely, but I know things between you aren't okay. I think we all hoped things would get better after you talked on Winterfest Day."

"We didn't really talk. We skated and went home and just didn't fight for a few days."

Heather frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hazel shook her head. "Not right now. I want to have a nap and then get out of the house for the night. It's weird being here surrounded by her family all the time. I feel like her mother and brother are constantly judging me."

"They love Nicola like we love you," Heather said. "But she shouldn't talk to you like she does. You don't deserve it. I'm willing to bet that a lot of what she's going through isn't even really about you."

Hazel sighed. "I just make it all worse."

Heather loved her baby sister and would always support her, but she never would have advised Hazel's next move.

To end a New Year's Day where Hazel spent as much time avoiding Nicola and her family as possible, she found herself drinking screwdrivers at the pub that night. She was alone, again, until she met Suri Romeo and flirted over drinks until well after midnight.

When the pub closed, they continued with a stroll along the River Bagley. The place near the village green, which had earlier that day been packed with locals for the annual Polar Bear Swim, was devoid of any lamplights, but Hazel could still make out Suri's smile in the light of the moon. "Are you happily married, Hazel?"

She didn't want to answer and pulled Suri in for a kiss. It felt electric - nothing like the kisses she shared with her wife. Not now, and maybe not ever.

But she thought of Nicola back home, probably asleep and snoring a little. Her wedding vows meant she wasn't supposed to do this, and she pulled away with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "My wife."

Suri nodded with an understanding smile. "I'm living with my grandparents at their farm in Old New Henford. Call me when you figure out some things."

But Hazel called Suri long before she had anything "figured out," inviting her to the first Finchwick Fair of the new year. "I have to be there with Mayor Varner, but it's really a great opportunity for you to live like a true Henford local," she told Suri, and they met outside the village green on a sunny winter afternoon.

"Did your wife not want to be here?" Suri wondered.

"She's grading papers and the Finchwick Fair isn't really her thing. She loves gardening, but she hasn't done much of it lately." Nicola recalled the woman she used to know with some regret before quickly brushing it away and returning her focus to Suri. "Here, I saw this video that made me think of you. It's a cat, but he's a chef. It's called ChefCat!"

They were interrupted by friendly Mayor Varner, who was happy to meet anyone in his town at any time. "Hello there! I'd never miss a new face!"

"Mayor Varner, this is Suri Romeo. She's just moved to town to learn to be a great chef from her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen."

"Ah! The Bjergsens are wonderful citizens! And your grandmother's baked goods are the reason I'm out of shape."

Suri smiled. "Hopefully one day I'll be just as good as she is."

"You'll have a wonderful mentor. Welcome to town, Miss Romeo!" He turned to a starry-eyed Nicola. "How are those new year's reports coming, Hazel?"

"I should be done this week, sir. It's a lot of information to put together."

He frowned. They both knew he'd expected those reports on his desk last week, but the work was a drag, and he'd given her too many previous extensions. She forced a smile for her boss.

When it got a little cooler, Hazel and Suri went inside the pub to warm up. They danced to some holiday music still playing on the in-house stereo, before Hazel pulled a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling. "Laura must've forgotten to take this down with the rest of the Winterfest decorations," she mused, but she held it playfully over her head anyway. Suri laughed, leaning in to kiss her quickly on the lips.

Hazel glanced around. The bar was mostly empty with most patrons enjoying the fair outside, but they knew they shouldn't be spotted doing what they were doing.

They continued to see one another in secret, hanging out at the community garden in Old New Henford to get to know one another. Suri told Hazel about life growing up in an apartment in San Myshuno with her parents and brothers, and about visits to Henford to see her grandparents and aunts every summer. She even told her about her mother's cousin Olivia, who was a basketball star at Foxbury Institute.

Hazel was happy to talk about her family - her parents, her sisters, her brother, all her in-laws and nieces and nephews - but not her wife. And she knew her friendship with Suri was dangerous. She wanted Suri all to herself and didn't want her wife to know anything about her.

As the snow melted beneath her jacket, Hazel would cloudgaze (even in Henford's mild, sunny winter climate) and imagine herself with Suri. Not Nicola.

She knew marriage counseling was the best course of action, but when she looked at Nicola, she didn't want to do it. When Suri entered her life, she could finally admit to herself what she'd tried to mask for years. Hazel was no longer attracted to her objectively beautiful wife, and no amount of counseling would bring her feelings back.

She grew increasingly careless in her time spent with Suri. She told Suri she wanted out, but conversations with Nicola these days always ended in tears. She didn't tell anyone what was going on because she knew they'd tell her to be better. To talk to Nicola, to end things with Suri before they went too far, to be a bigger person. She'd lost her will to care about any of it.

On Sportsball Sunday, Hazel wanted to go to the Gnome's Arms to watch the game. River had invited her to her childhood home, but Suri would be at the pub. She was getting ready to go when her girlfriend surprised her at home in the Bramblewood.

"What are you doing here? I was just leaving."

"I came to tell you my little cousin Jada heard at school that you and I are seeing each other."

Hazel froze. If kids at school were talking about Mrs. Moody-Nesbitt's wife having an affair, then... Sure enough, Nicola met them in the yard with a churlish grin.

"Oh good! You're both here, so I only need to get mad once before I forget either of you and leave while Hazel packs her things."

Hazel was quiet, letting Nicola unleash a torrent of disappointment at her affair. "It kills me Hazel. I wanted a family with you. It's all we talked about for years, but then I lost my dad and you cheated. And I found out at work, which is so embarrassing! My schedule was never the problem when it came to counseling. I worked the same schedule every day, I came home - you're the one who always had somewhere else to be."

Hazel was defeated and ready to leave, and she apologized for embarrassing her. "I shouldn't have been with Suri behind your back, but what are we really salvaging anymore, Nic? I'm sorry."

Nicola scowled. "Oh, you're done? Hazel, I already got the divorce papers from the courthouse. Sign them and get out of my house."

Though Nicola put on a confident facade while she took the initiative to end their union, they both left the marriage with regrets. They could have tried harder, if they were really meant to be. But more than anything, they could have waited to get married. Maybe then they'd never have married at all, and their differences wouldn't have been so hard to take.

And now, with the sunny weather betraying their broken hearts, Hazel Nesbitt and Nicola Moody-McMillan had shared their last cozy celebrations together.

How would each move on from here? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

The answers to that question! Nicola's next chapter begins here as a contestant on Dating Deanna, a reality TV series debuting in January by @changingplumbob, where dozens of contestants will compete for the heart of beautiful bachelorette Deanna York.

Hazel lives with the Nesbitt-Gordons for now, so we'll follow her story with Heather and her crew in Sims In Bloom!

This was hardly cozy, but I've written a couple surprise bonus posts for tomorrow/my Christmas Day that are much more fun, and they finish off the reward event with a lot less angst and drama!

NOTE: For the record, I believe in working on a marriage, but Hazel and Nicola's compatibility was awful once Lovestruck patched in. They truly grew apart, not at all together, and didn't have enough desire to put in the work to save their short-lived marriage. Then Hazel met Suri and they were flirty and got along so much better, so I figured she and Nicola might both be happier without each other and they divorced.

While Hazel has a potential someone, I was trying to think about what to do with Nicola when Dating Deanna was announced. I thought this was perfect because now I don't have to plot her next chapter, and if she doesn't win Deanna's heart she'll return with new lore and backstory to write for.

I know she has few fans these days and that's fine! But when she's with the right person and not cheated on (entering a bachelorette competition could really test her), Nicola will put in the work. She's too good and family oriented not to. Hazel, on the other hand, should possibly reckon with why she chose to cheat and not leave...

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #henford on bagley #cozy celebrations #cassandra goth #kim goldbloom

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coeurcanelle · 1 day ago

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Hold my heart even if it's cold pt2

pairing:surfer!ellie x reader

fluff,sad ending

pt1

You cant help but fall deeper for Ellie,you're even ready to confess. However things take a turn after the both of you team up for a competition

"what's that"

"my surf journal"

The journal was open across her knees, and she held a stubby grey crayon in one hand. Her fingers moved with ease, sketching waves, horizons, and faint outlines of surfers mid-flight on the ocean.

You and Ellie had started hanging out beyond the beach lately—beyond the wild, crashing waves that had first brought you together. Ellie wanted to show you her favorite secret spot and,as always,you followed.

So now you found yourself in a cave.

Not a creepy one—though you had started to second-guess that when she had suddenly dove under the water, motioning for you to follow. The rocks around you had seemed to close in, narrowing into an underwater passage that twisted into shadows.

Before panic could take hold at the thought of no exit, Ellie had glanced back, her eyes sparkling even in the dim, underwater light. Her hand had reached out, a silent encouragement, and something in the steadiness of her gaze had calmed you.

Then, she had disappeared around a bend.

You pushed forward, your lungs burning slightly, until the narrow tunnel opened up into something breathtaking. When you and Ellie resurfaced, your gasp wasn’t just for air—it was for the view.

It was like a secret world, carved into the edge of the coastline and hidden behind jagged rocks and foamy waves. The air was cool and fresh, carrying the salty tang of the ocean. Overhead, a large circular opening framed the night sky, the moon perfectly positioned above, spilling silver light into the space below.

The glow touched everything—the rocky walls, the rippling water in the center of the cave, and the two of you now sitting near its edge.

The water in the middle of the cave was like a natural pool, still and glassy, reflecting the moonlight with an almost magical glow. It lapped gently against the rocks, making soft, rhythmic sounds that seemed to echo in the quiet space.

You sat close to her, close enough to see how her brow furrowed slightly in concentration, close enough to notice the faint streak of moonlight catching the curve of her cheek. Occasionally, you leaned forward, trying to get a better look at her journal without disturbing her.

She was truly an artist, whether she was carving through the waves like she was born under the ocean or sitting here with a crayon, capturing the sea’s beauty on paper. The soft, precise lines seemed to breathe life into her sketches, as though you could feel the weight of the water and the warmth of the sun through them.

At this point, you started to wonder if there was anything Ellie couldnt do.

Suddenly,she flipped over a page. You noticed her quick glance at you before returning her eyes on her blank page. With a smirk that didn't betray the mischief in her green eyes.

"I should add your amazing wipeout from earlier that was epic"she added with a chuckle before sketching again.

It wasn't even an hour ago. A big wave was forming further away and ellie encouraged you to take it,biting back her mischevious smile.

You had taken the bait, of course, paddling hard and catching the wave just as it began to curl. For a brief, thrilling moment, you were inside the wave, surrounded by walls of rushing blue and white. It was perfect,until Ellie’s board appeared out of nowhere.

She surfed alongside you like it was nothing, her movements fluid and controlled, before she deliberately angled her board just close enough to nudge yours. The contact was subtle but effective. Your balance wavered, and then the wave claimed you.

For a brief second, you saw the shimmering wall of water surrounding you, an emerald dome illuminated by sunlight. Then came the chaos—saltwater crashing against your body, spinning you in a disorienting dance before the wave spat you out mercilessly.

Your board shot out one side of the water, while you were ejected the other way before falling back into the water. When you resurfaced,she was in front of you unable to hold back her laugh after watching the whole thing.

"Are you gonna add the other rest of my top 5 most embarassing moments too"you asked rolling your eyes,her laugh from earlier echoing from her lips again.

"Relax"she said her eyes not leaving her journal,"you just didnt see it from my pov." She began sketching, her pencil moving deftly across the page, and you leaned over to catch a glimpse. It was you, ejected out of the ocean mid-wipeout, flying through the air like an electrified cat.An unnecessary, over-the-top rendering that you didn’t need to see to remind yourself how humiliating it was.

"It was legendary. If it was me i'd probably be in a wheelchair right now" she added with a light chuckle knowing damn well you could have ended up like this after she pushed you.

You were lucky you didn't break your spine after that. Hospital bills weren’t exactly in your summer plans, and giving up surfing just when you’d started to get the hang of it wasn’t an option either.

Her pencil stopped, and she turned to you with a glimmer of curiosity in her eyes"but what's your top 5 ?"

Not only was she talented at drawing, but she also had an uncanny ability to make situations worse

"theres no way im telling you"you replied crossing your arms arms firmly.

"Is it that bad?"she smirked,the hint of curiosity in her eyes now shining with mischief. "Was it waving at the wrong person? Peeing in your pants?"

"Worse"

Images of you doing the world's stupidest things flashed in her mind. "Oh, no. Did you-wait-did you shit your pants?"

Your face twisted in disgust, and she burst out laughing, clearly enjoying how much she was getting under your skin.

You decided to tell her anyway."Fine, I’ll tell you. I was crossing the road-"

"you got hit by a car?"Ellie cut you off looking at you with wide eyes.

"You just spoiled it. Thanks"

Her cold hand found warmth on your arm as she gently shook you, as if trying to make the details of your story bubble out of your mouth. Just another excuse to have her hands on you.

"What? Tell me! And why the hell weren’t you looking for cars?"

"It wasn’t my fault!" you defended, the images of your small accident replaying in your mind. Even if you tried to forget it, the embarrassment still lingered, clinging to you without peace.

"The green light was for me," you continued now that she was all ears. "So I was crossing the road, and this car hit the brakes too late. It wasn’t going that fast—city traffic—but next thing I know, I’m kissing the pavement."

The ghost of her cold hand grazed your arm as her mind replaced the scene of you ejected by the ocean with this new spectacle of you on the ground instead. Skill issue.

"I got up and kept walking," you said casually.

She furrowed her brows in disbelief, "You just walked off? Like nothing happened? Were you even hurt?"

"Of course I was, but everyone was staring—I just wanted to get out of there. I didn’t break a leg, but I was limping, and some kids were even laughing at me." In that moment, all you wanted was to disappear, to act as if it never happened. Yet here you were, telling Ellie, who found the whole thing anything but serious. "Bet you would’ve laughed too."

"Me?" she pointed at herself, fake surprise lacing her voice. "Never! I’d feel bad for you!" she said, biting her lip to suppress the laughter that was already bubbling up.

She would have been worse than those kids.

"Right. You’d come running over with your stupid journal, sketching me like, ‘Whoa, that was legendary! Can you do it again?’ while the doctors put me on a wheelchair."

That was it. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her laughter erupted, loud and shameless, tears streaming from her eyes as she doubled over.

Between gasps for air, she grabbed her journal and flipped to a blank page. "There’s no way I’m not adding this." In seconds, the page transformed into a dramatic sketch of you face-planting after being hit by a car.

Her laughter continued, filling the space around you, and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but smile. Even as she laughed at you, there was something undeniably endearing about being the reason for her joy.

"I can't tell you anything, can I?"

You still ended up telling her the rest of your top 5 most embarrassing moments, not getting any justice in the way she represented you. Soon, her surf journal was a collection of doodles of you doing the stupidest things known to mankind. Even if it wasn’t all about surfing, she still wanted to have a piece of you in it.

But she promised she’d never show anyone.

It was a secret between her and you.

♡°♡°♡

As days passed, when you were away from the rhythmic sound of the waves, you were never truly far from Ellie. Even in her home, where the scent of salt and water didn’t linger in the air, there was still this tide. It was much different from the ones she had encountered,much bigger and tighter.

This pull between you and her.

"Why the surf?" you asked, turning to her. You were both lying on her bed, staring at the fluorescent stars on her ceiling. They had been there since she was a kid, left to gaze at when she wasn’t at the beach stargazing at far-off planets.

Her body wasn’t cold next to yours, having just stepped out of a warm shower. Your arms brushed, and if you dared to move away, even that simple gesture would surely tear her heart in pieces.

A moment of silence followed your question before she replied honestly, "Makes me forget about everything. I always try to keep my mind busy at home, but surfing at the beach just hits different. Like I can let go of everything and just focus on the waves, you know?"

Ellie knew a lot about you, but no matter how much she talked, she was still like a closed shell. And when she opened up even a little, you feared that if you got too close, she might shut again. Since she wouldn’t tell you everything, your mind wandered through her mysteries.

Was her smile just naturally that bright, or was it a mask?

Had her eyes always been this light shade of green, even in the shadow of the sun?

Did she love the sea because it was everything to her, or because it was all she had?

Before your thoughts spiraled too deep, she pulled you out of them. "You?"

Surfing had only recently become your passion, but you knew it wasn’t anything comparable to Ellie’s. "I like water," you shrugged.

A light chuckle escaped her lips. "Deep."

"No, I mean, like, water’s nice. I always end up with bruises when I try land sports. Never when I’m swimming," you explained, trying to imagine yourself practicing another sport. If it wasn’t near the sea, then Ellie wouldn’t be with you. That was something you wouldn’t have minded a few weeks ago, but now, it felt inconceivable.

"Well, you can drown," Ellie pointed out. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t a fear of yours. Not anymore.

"Drowning’s not that bad," you replied.

Ellie’s curiosity piqued. She turned to you, her eyes narrowing as she picked up on the seriousness in your tone. "You’ve drowned before? I thought you were a good swimmer."

Your lips formed a smile instinctively,ready for another storytime "That was before I even learned how to swim."

Her green eyes locked onto yours as you transported her to your past with just your words.

"I was in the water, like a dumbass, and an asshole pushed me into a spot where I couldn’t touch the bottom. I don’t remember anything as I sank, but when I woke up, I didn’t feel like I had just woken up from a good night’s sleep. I felt like I had just woken up from pure void."

Drowning had never been an experience for Ellie. When she didn’t know how to swim, she simply avoided the water. So, she couldn’t fully understand how you felt, but she tried to imagine it.

"It’s weird and peaceful at the same time," you added.

Drowning underwater didn’t seem peaceful to her. But something else did—something she was afraid was real.

Ellie’s eyes shifted back to the stars on the ceiling. "Or maybe your brain just... kinda erased the traumatic part. Before drowning."

"I’m sure it did. I wouldn’t want to remember that." The thought of being helplessly swallowed by the water, despite your best efforts to fight back, seemed too painful for your heart, too damaging to your mind. It was easier to pretend like nothing happened.

Ellie noticed your unfocused gaze at the shiny stars above, their light not reaching your eyes. "Guess you could say you got watered down by the situation, huh?"

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Unimpressed. But at least she brought you back to the present.

"Come on, it wasn’t that bad, was it?" she grinned.

You shook your head. "No, it was totally awful."

Ellie didn’t tell you, but she made a promise. A promise to herself that she would be your shore when the ocean threatened to pull you under, the breath of air that filled your lungs and brought you back to life, and the sun that chased away the clouds, painting your summer days with light.

Because as long as she was here, she wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

♡°♡°♡

Days? Weeks? You didn’t count how much time you spent with Ellie. You just knew she was becoming more and more a part of your summer. The more you found yourself in her arms after a long day of surfing or simply holding her hand, the more you started to picture the two of you forever.

That night, as you sat together on the sand watching the fireworks, you couldn't stop thinking about telling her.

How you could barely call your heart your own, how every beat seemed to echo her name. Not to mention, the two of you had never argued, never been on bad terms, which made the fear of rejection and distance feel even heavier. But you couldn't stop the warm swell in your heart, the feeling that was about to explode.

You had to tell her.

"Ellie, I—"

You turned, tearing your gaze from the explosions of color to look at her, only to find her ghost.

Your heart skipped a beat, panic blooming briefly in your chest, until you spotted a figure sprinting toward the water. The familiar green surfboard in her hands glinted under the scattered light of the fireworks.

Excitement rushed over you like a wave, washing away your unease, your heart racing for a new reason. Without hesitation, you followed, your feet sinking into the cool sand before the icy waves greeted your legs. The water was cold, but you didn’t care—not when Ellie was smiling at you, inviting you to join her for a better view of the fireworks as she sat on her board.

Her board wobbled above the water as both of you balanced on it.

"Comfortable?" Ellie asked, her voice softer than the seafoam she drew with the same board.

"Yeah," you assured, shooting her a small smile that betrayed the huge affection swelling in your heart. With that, Ellie turned her gaze to the sky, where a dance of colors shone in her eyes.

That same explosion of light and color burst in her heart, igniting every time you returned her smile, sparking brighter whenever you reached for her hand or rested in her arms.

So when you moved closer now, resting your head gently on her shoulder, she didn’t hesitate.

Her arm slipped around you instinctively, pulling you in with a warmth that felt more comforting than the summer sun.

Neither of you said a word. The rhythm of your hearts beating in sync as one said it all.

Your confession could wait. For now, you wanted to keep melting in her arms until the magic of this night ended.

♡°♡°♡

The next day, the ocean gleamed under the early morning sun, the waves rolling in with perfect rhythm, each one an open invitation.

Your time at the beach had seamlessly expanded from afternoons to entire days; at this rate, it felt like you practically lived there. Mornings began with Ellie at the beachside café, sharing breakfast and trading sleepy smiles over warm coffee. Afterward, you’d stretch together on the sand before diving headfirst into the waves.

By midday, with the sun hanging high above, you’d both sit on your boards, taking a break to enjoy the sandwiches you’d packed that morning. Ellie never failed to praise your cooking, even though it was always the same simple meal.

“ellie, it’s just a sandwich. Anyone can make it,” you’d tease.

“Still, it’s the best sandwich I’ve ever had. The way the cheese just melts in my mouth. Epic ,” she’d reply, her mouth full, grinning like you’d handed her a gourmet feast.

You’d laugh and return each day with the same lunch and receive the same praises, the small moments between waves growing into something you treasured.

When the moon replaced the sun, you’d either follow Ellie to the moon pool cave to gaze at the stars or retreat to her cozy apartment if she was too tired for a nighttime swim.

Surfing lessons had long since stopped being your reason for coming to the beach. Ellie rarely instructed you anymore, instead offering small tricks or tips, leaving you to practice and perfect them yourself.

Her eyes shone with admiration whenever you were on a wave, and the way her voice laced with praise left you grounded.

You only came because of this invisible thread pulling you toward her.

Much like the wave forming before your eyes.

Ellie sat on her board, floating near the shore. She took in the view—you. Lately, you'd been practicing her tricks, and her eyes glimmered with curiosity, wondering how well you'd execute them today.

This morning, the ocean invited you to try something bold.

A towering wave began to form in the distance, its crest foaming as it gathered strength. You positioned yourself perfectly, your body instinctively moving in harmony with the swell. As the wave rose higher, you paddled hard and caught it, the rush of momentum pulling you to your feet in one smooth motion.

Ellie’s gaze followed you, her smile fading into something more serious as she realized what you were attempting.

This was your chance to impress her more than ever.

You glided effortlessly along the curve of the wave, your body leaning into the motion like you were born to ride it. Then, with a calculated shift of weight, you turned sharply and disappeared into the barrel, swallowed by the cascading tunnel of water.

For a heartbeat, you were gone, completely hidden from view.

Ellie sat frozen, her eyes fixed on the spot where you’d vanished. The wave’s roar seemed to stretch time, the moment suspended in a breathless hush.

Then, as if summoned by the ocean itself, you emerged from the other side of the wave, your silhouette cutting cleanly through the spray.

But you didn’t stop there. You had more tricks under your sleeve.

With precision, you launched into a series of spins,one, two,three. The sight of your board slicing through the air like a knife through silk was caught not only by ellie but all the surfers in disbelief around the beach.

You landed back on the water with a controlled grace, your board skimming the surface as if the wave itself had bent to your will.

Ellie’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened.

She had briefly instructed you on spins, expecting you to try other, simpler tricks more often. But not only had you just successfully nailed them—without demonstration—you did three in a row without falling!

"Watch out for the flies," you teased, seeing how agape her mouth was.

Quickly, she snapped her mouth shut, pressing her lips into a thin line, and her praising words got caught in her throat. "My mouth wasn’t that wide open," she defended.

"Just watch out," you chuckled.

"Shut up," she rolled her eyes, the images of earlier still replaying in her mind, unable to forget your impressive moves.

You casually walked along the shore, planting your board down. Surfers around you watched your every move, taking note of your board.

That’s how people would recognize you from now on.

Your eyes caught a quick glance at them before falling back on Ellie. "Okay, but you gotta tell me why were you practically drooling over me"

Her cheeks flushed red, the color deepening as she kept her eyes on yours. "I wasn’t—I was just... ugh."

She had to tear her gaze away from how good you looked out of the water to form words. "You were really cool. Amazing. On that wave."

Your heart screamed at how adorable she was. It took every ounce of self-control not to squish her red cheeks. "Really?"

"Yeah... there’s a competition coming up soon," she said, scratching the back of her neck. "With teams of two. So if you want—"

A competition? And she wanted you to team up with her? Ellie, the best surfer on the beach?

"I don’t know. I’m still nowhere near your level," you cut her off, your confidence fading with the last remnants of adrenaline.

Ellie blinked in surprise. "No need to be on my level."

You shook your head. "But you're so good at everything. Balance. Flow. Precision." You pointed at her board, catching the sunlight by her feet. "Bet you could even do triple backflips without slipping a beat."

She stared at you, blinking twice.

Have you seen yourself on the waves?

"Okay, don’t get carried away. I do fall..." she revealed, but she knew it never happened when you were watching. She made sure of that. "Sometimes. Just not when you’re watching."

The words lingered in the cool air before dissipating, leaving you silent.

Ellie approached you, wanting to dispel the uncertainty clouding your eyes. Confidence looked good on you, and she didn’t want to be the one to watch it disappear.

"There’s no one else I want on my team," her voice softened as she locked eyes with you. She meant every word. "Seriously, have you seen you? You’ve come so far in such a short time. You can do stuff I would have killed to be able to do when I was at your level."

Her gaze quickly fell to your lips, which curved into a small smile.

But she didn’t mirror it.

Your envy smile.

"Yeah, but I still want to be like you," you admitted. Because to you, your skills were never good enough. You’d try countless times to execute them, but the shadows of self-doubt still clawed at your board. You weren’t sure what it was, but every time you watched Ellie on the waves, you were reminded you could never be as good as her.

As perfect as Ellie.

"Don’t," Ellie’s eyes darkened with seriousness. She didn’t want you thinking that.

She didn’t want you to compare yourself to her.

"I watched you do three spins in a row. I didn’t even show you how to place yourself, how to shift your weight on the board in the air, or how to prepare for the landing. And you landed without even losing your balance. Do you have any idea how impressive that was?"

If you were honest—no, you didn’t. You just did it, remembering how Ellie executed it in the air and trusting the feeling. You weren’t thinking much about all the technicalities.

Ellie hesitated before placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. No matter how close you were, the hesitation still lingered in her mind. But you accepted her touch with your heart.

"And the ocean doesn’t need two of me. It needs you," her gaze softened again. She wanted her words to reach your heart and carve themselves there instead of your doubts"Your style, your flow—it’s all your own. You’re unique in your own way. Even better than most surfers here."

Your eyes shifted from her to the figures dancing on the waves ahead. This might be the first time you paid attention to them, as the world around you always blurred when you surfed beside Ellie.

"So don’t make that rookie mistake, trying to match me. You shine differently when you’re being yourself." Her cold fingers found their way around your warm ones, lifting the heavy weight in your chest. Her sincere look, when your eyes met hers, chased it all away.

"You don’t need to change anything."

Because that’s how the ocean carried your name through the waves.

Because that’s how the sun kissed your skin when you floated above the waters.

Because that’s how her heart found space for you.

Only you could make it melt with overwhelming warmth when you took her into your arms.

"You’re not just saying that so I don’t break down in front of you?" you asked, as she hugged you back, her cold arms wrapping around your waist. She held you like you were the most precious treasure in the world, unwilling to let go.

"I mean, we already have a whole ocean here. I don’t need you to cry me a river," she chuckled, until you pulled away. Her body started to warm up next to yours.

"Seriously, you’re amazing," she whined, desperate to feel the warmth of your body embracing hers again.

But she quickly played it off, leaning on her surfboard, which couldn’t wait to meet the water. "I wouldn’t ask you to be on my team if you weren’t. Getting humiliated in public isn’t really my thing," she said casually, glancing at the surfers on the waves, before turning back to you with a smirk.

Her casual smirk that secretly begged for a reaction.

"Unless you do want to eat your surfboard in front of everyone and make us lose. I’m personally not into it," she shrugged.

You weren’t much into competition. Like Ellie, surfing had become your passion, something personal. The only person you felt like you’d been competing against this whole time was yourself, with Ellie always helping you surpass your limits. Proving your skills to others never particularly appealed to you.

But the way Ellie was looking at you, with that burning determination in her eyes, made you not want to let a stupid refusal extinguish it. She wanted to show the world how good you were—and how amazing the two of you were.

"Okay. Count me in. Looks like you don’t give me a choice anyway," you said.

Ellie’s heart jumped with excitement, already imagining you and her floating above the ocean, effortlessly winning against the others, just like in her dreams.

"I do," she chuckled, trying to seem casual. "You can choose me, or those other dudes over there." She pointed to the surfers, each doing a mediocre job at recreating your spins from earlier.

Wow,the impact you had.

You mirrored Ellie’s smirk, grabbing your surfboard, your eyes shining with the same determination. "Nah, I wanna beat them."

Ellie grabbed hers and began walking toward the water, lying flat on her board before paddling. Her heart burned with more than just excitement.

"Now we’re talking."

♡°♡°♡

"Watch out, everyone! The queen of the waves is back on the beach. Will she conquer them or let them swallow her whole?" Ellie declared with exaggerated flair, balancing on your board. Her dramatic tone earned an easy laugh from you.

The competition was tomorrow, and it wasn’t just you and Ellie who couldn’t stop talking about it—every surfer on the beach buzzed with anticipation. This was the moment everyone had been waiting for. Not just for the bragging rights or the chance to show off, but because the prize money was enough to fund the rest of the summer in style.

It wouldn’t make you and Ellie millionaires, but it was more than enough to guarantee endless fun.

Still, nothing could compare to the moments you shared with Ellie, moments that felt absolutely priceless.

One second you were lounging on your couch, and the next she was standing on your board. All because you casually mentioned she couldn’t perfectly capture the way you moved on the waves.

You hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but there she was pulling a series of acrobatics like a clown whose sole purpose was to entertain a king.

"Will she do a handstand? Can she do a handstand?" she asked with over-the-top enthusiasm. Before you could respond, she kicked up into a wobbly handstand, her legs shaking but holding steady.

Your laughter filled the room, and she couldn’t hold back her own grin as she tumbled down.

She was just warming up.

Next, she stood on one foot, arms stretched out like a tightrope walker. "And for my next act!" she announced with mock gravitas, her voice dripping with theatrics.

You raised an eyebrow, silently wondering how far she’d go just to make you laugh.

And then she crouched low, launching herself into an attempted backflip. A loud smack echoed as she landed awkwardly on your board, sending both of you into hysterics.

It wasn’t about imitating you—she just wanted to impress you.

And it worked.

Slow clapping, you shook your head with a wide grin. "Okay, show-off. I’m not doing all that."

"Come on," she teased, placing the surfboard back against the wall before plopping down beside you. "Think of the crowd going wild when you pull off moves like these!"

You rolled your eyes. "I can’t even do backflips on solid ground. Imagine me trying that on a wave."

Ellie laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Fine, but I still think the crowd would love it. Even if you wiped out."

"Yeah, they'd go wild watching me eat it right after," you said, your own laughter joining hers.

In that moment, the looming pressure of the competition melted away. All that mattered was the sound of her laugh mingling with yours, and you wished you could stretch this moment into forever.

The next morning arrived in the blink of an eye. The sun blazed high in a bright blue sky, and the ocean roared its waves, promising both challenges and surprises.

You tried to focus on the two boys ahead of you, weaving tricks on the waves, but the weight in your chest grew heavier with each passing second.

Your turn was next.

"Hey." Ellie’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. She’d noticed the far-off look in your eyes.

You turned to her, offering a nervous smile.

"Don’t overthink it," she said, her voice unusually soft, searching for the right words. "Just pretend it’s like any other time. Like we’re training. Just… having fun together."

Her attempt at reassurance didn’t erase all your anxiety, but it chipped away at the edges, making the weight in your chest a little more bearable.

"I don’t have to pretend," you replied, your voice steadier now. "We’ll be having fun together anyway."

Your words brought a smile to Ellie’s face, one that seemed to lighten something heavy she’d been carrying deep inside.

The commentator’s voice boomed across the beach, announcing your names, and the crowd erupted with cheers louder than the waves crashing behind you.

With one hand holding your surfboard and one hand holding ellie's you were more than ready to face whatever the ocean had to offer.

You stepped forward with Ellie, the sand cool beneath your feet and the salty breeze brushing against your face.

Ellie gave your hand a reassuring squeeze,"Ready?"

"Always"you nodded before she let go of your hand, lifting her surfboard with ease.

The roar of the ocean sounded less intimidating now and more like an invitation.

Both of you paddled out into the water, finding your rhythm as you navigated the swells. The ocean churned beneath you, each wave growing taller, sharper, and more powerful.

'Dont overthink too much'

Ellie caught the first wave, her movements fluid and confident as she carved through the water. She rode the crest with precision, her board gliding over the shimmering surface as if it were an extension of her. Then, with a burst of speed, she launched herself into the air, twisting her body into a corkscrew before landing gracefully.

The crowd erupted into cheers as she paddled back out to join you.

Your turn came quickly.

The wave rose high behind you, its power vibrating through the water. You pushed forward, feeling the surge of adrenaline as you stood on your board. The wind rushed past your face as you leaned into the wave, your body moving instinctively.

Then, you saw your opportunity.

The wave curled into a perfect barrel, and you disappeared inside, the world narrowing to nothing but the wall of water around you. Time seemed to slow as you emerged from the tube, launching into the air. You spun—once, twice, three times—before landing smoothly, the ocean steady beneath your feet.

Ellie had told you to do this trick again,it easily impressed her so it would surely leave the same effect on the jury.

The competition continued, with both of you pushing yourselves above limits you would have thought were impossible to reach a few weeks ago,each performance feeding off the energy of the other.

Ellie executed a flawless 360 flip, followed by a graceful descent back onto the wave. You responded with a series of rapid cuts, spraying water high into the air as you sliced through the wave’s face.

But toward the end, Ellie caught a towering wave that swelled higher and faster than expected. You watched from a distance as she launched into the air for a daring trick, her body twisting perfectly.

For a moment, it looked like she’d nailed it,but the landing came too fast.

Her board slipped out from under her, and she hit the water with a splash, disappearing beneath the surface.

“Ellie!” you shouted, fear gripping your chest as you paddled toward her.

She resurfaced quickly, coughing,“I’m fine. Go finish it"

You teared your gaze away from Ellie ,focusing on finishing what you started instead.

The pressure was on, but you took a deep breath and refocused. The ocean offered you one last wave, and you seized it. Riding its crest, you leaned into a sharp turn, letting the power of the water propel you forward. As the wave began to close, you leapt into the air for one final spin, landing cleanly to the sound of the crowd roaring in approval.

When you paddled back to shore, Ellie was there waiting, the crowd erupted once more, cheering for your performance.

Despite Ellie’s fall, the energy was undeniable,you had both given the audience a show to remember.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concern evident in your voice as you looked at her, her wet auburn hair plastered to her face.

It was the first time you'd ever seen her fall.

"Yeah, it’s nothing," she replied, her gaze refusing to meet yours.

Maybe she was upset—falling at such a decisive moment, especially when she never struggled with those same tricks in practice, away from the watchful eyes of others.

You decided not to press further, not wanting to make it seem like a bigger deal than it was. Truly, it wasn’t. You knew Ellie’s strengths, her skills, and how she was better than all the surfers here combined.

After what felt like an eternity, the judges finally delivered their verdict, the commentator’s voice ringing out loud and clear.

You had won first place.

A warmth of pride and joy spread through your chest. Your first victory in surfing—and you won it alongside the person you loved most in this world.

"You did it," Ellie said, her eyes finally meeting yours, glowing with pride.

To her, your tricks had saved the team. If not for you, her wipeout would have surely dragged her rank lower.

But you disagreed. "We did it."

Ellie had done more than just fall. Her tricks were far more advanced than any of the others here. Her fall wasn’t from a lack of competence—it was a reminder that she was human.

She was just like you.

And in that moment, you realized she wasn’t the perfect image you’d painted in your head. You didn’t have to envy her skills anymore.

Without thinking, you leaned in, planting a quick kiss on her cheek.

In the span of a few seconds, her face turned as red as a tomato, her eyes wide in surprise. But it didn’t take long for that shy smile of hers to return.

Before either of you could say much, the two of you were surrounded by the second and third-place teams, posing with your golden medals for local photographers and fumbling through unprepared answers for eager journalists.

"Ellie! Ellie, over here!"

Both of you turned toward the high-pitched voice.

A little boy came running across the sand, his eyes shining with excitement as he approached Ellie.

"Can you sign my shirt, please?" he asked, tugging at his blank white shirt impatiently.

"Sure, where’s your pen?" Ellie asked, noticing he hadn’t brought one.

The boy dashed back to his parents and returned quickly, nearly stumbling on the sand. He handed Ellie a black marker.

Crouching down to his level, Ellie quickly sketched a moth before signing her initials beneath it.

"You’re so cool! My mom says I can’t surf because it’s too dangerous, but when I grow up, you’ll teach me, right?" he asked, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.

Ellie straightened, returning the marker to him with a soft smile. But this time, the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Of course," she said, ruffling the boy’s hair. His face lit up with pure joy.

You watched the scene unfold, your heart warming at the sight. For the boy, it was undoubtedly the best day of his summer.

As Ellie stepped back, the boy turned to you, holding out the pen hesitantly.

You crouched down, ready to sign something for him as well.

"Who are you?"

Your smile faltered.

"I won the prize with her. You didn’t see me? I was right beside her on the wave," you said, trying to mask your disappointment.

He shook his head. "Uh, no."

Ellie, failing to suppress her laughter, quickly looked away, her shoulders shaking with amusement.

You really thought you’d leave a lasting impression with your moves, but maybe your expectations were too high for certain people.

“See you next time!” the boy waved as he ran off.

But you knew he only meant it for one person.

A few minutes later, your prize was ready. The bald commentator approached, holding a massive check in his hands, the flashes of cameras nearly blinding you if you dared to keep your eyes open for more than a few seconds.

You’d never received a check this large before—and neither had Ellie. When the sun began dipping below the horizon, you decided to do something special to celebrate your first win with her.

Your initial thoughts included hosting a small party with her and the other surfers or simply spending time together at your apartment. But every plan sank before it could fully form.

“Yeah, uh, maybe next time? I’m just really tired right now,” she admitted, struggling to meet your disappointed gaze.

You didn’t press her further. She’d been training alongside you for this competition, pushing herself hard and taking on the punishing waves. These daily surf sessions must have drained her—not just physically.

So, you nodded and handed her the check, trusting you’d see her again tomorrow, just as you had every day this summer.

But the next day, she didn’t even answer your texts.

10:03 AM: “Wanna meet up to cash the check together ?”

10:10 AM: “Ellie?”

Normally, she would’ve replied almost instantly—telling you she was on her way to the beach or asking if you planned to surf all day so she could tidy up her room before you came over, half-exhausted from the waves.

But today, you weren’t even left on read.

10:11 AM: “You awake?"

Still hopeful, you drove to the beach with your surfboard, heading to your usual spot on the sand.

The sun moved lazily across the sky, but Ellie never appeared. Hours later, when you checked your phone, you finally saw a reply.

5:46 PM:“Spent the whole day cleaning up. Maybe tomorrow"

Cleaning? Ellie, who always said surfing was her escape, choosing chores over the ocean?

You guys had just won something together—something that might not seem huge to her, given the collection of gold medals and trophies on her shelves. But it was monumental to you. It was proof that every single roll of the wave, every fall, and every hour of effort had been worth it. Proof that, for once, you didn’t suck at sports.

With a heavy heart, you still replied that tomorrow worked, still holding out for an explanation for her unusual behavior.

The next day, the sun still shone with the same brightness as yesterday, and the beach was alive with cheerful vacationers and competitive surfers. Life around you continued as if everything were normal—as if Ellie hadn’t stood you up for the second time in a row.

The waves ahead of you, no matter how huge or threatening, couldn’t drown out your thoughts about Ellie’s strange behavior.

Everyday when you checked your phone, you were met with more excuses and apologies, followed by hours of silence.

6:13 PM :"Jesse wanted to hang out. How about tomorrow morning?"

4:44 PM:"Sorry I overslept"

9:55 AM :"I’m tired, sorry."

Was it you? Had you done something to upset her? Maybe kissing her cheek had crossed a line? Maybe you’d made a sarcastic comment she took to heart? Or was it her fall during the competition? She knew this ocean better than anyone, yet she stumbled while you didn’t.

The absence gnawed at your mind. Each day apart stretched the distance between you painfully further.

Then, one day, the sun didn’t make its usual bright appearance, hidden behind gray clouds. That was when you learned the truth.

Ellie had used all the prize money.

It wasn’t something you’d explicitly agreed to split, but you thought it was obvious—you were partners, weren’t you? You’d imagined using that money to explore different seas together, creating memories beyond the beach. Fairs, aquariums, movies—anything to make her smile and deepen the bond you believed was also precious to her.

But it wasn’t just the money that churned the storm in your heart.

It was the fact that she wasn’t sharing anything with you anymore.

Ignoring you for days, as if you had never carved each other’s names on your boards.

As if you had never spent hours talking under the stars until the sun rose.

As if she didn’t have to buy a new journal because pages of you filled her other one.

Was she just pretending all this time?

“Hey, what’s up?” a random surfer asked, sliding unsteadily on the wet sand to catch up with you.

You’d noticed more people recognized you after the competition, finally learning your name now that Ellie hadn’t been on the beach for days. But still, you were known only as her partner.

“You seen Ellie around?” he asked again, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He knew.

Everyone knew Ellie didn’t share the prize with you, leaving you alone on the beach.

And you knew what everyone thought of her now.

“No,” you replied sharply, hoping to end the conversation.

But he pressed on, his friends trailing behind him like a pack of seagulls circling a stranded fish.

“Is it true?” he asked, stepping in front of you to block your path. “The rumors? That she didn’t give you a single cent?”

His friends burst into laughter, as if being used was the punchline of the century.

It took every ounce of restraint not to slam your surfboard into his face and wipe that grin away.

“What do you want?” you asked coldly, your piercing gaze silencing their mocking snickers.

You were already upset enough about Ellie. You didn’t need random surfers adding fuel to the fire burning in your heart.

“I’m just asking, bro. Chill out.” He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender. Then, with a smug grin, he added, “But I gotta say...”

You didn’t want to listen, but his words forced their way into your mind like uninvited guests.

“...That was a really asshole move.”

An asshole move?

Definitely.

But was Ellie an asshole?

"I wouldn’t stick with her if I were you," his words lingered in the air as he slid away with his group.

Ellie wasn’t an asshole, right?

She was a smoker, but were you really just a stash of cigarettes?Something she burned through, inhaling every last bit of you to appease her cravings, only to toss you away once you were used up?

But if you were a cigarette, wouldn’t that make you her addiction? Something she couldn’t live without for the rest of her life?

You needed to know.

You had to.

You didn’t want those random dudes, who knew nothing about you or Ellie, to be right.

Since the texts and calls hadn’t worked, you decided to show up at her apartment. Taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart, you raised your hand, ready to knock on her door.

But the sound of paper rustling at your feet made you pause.

You bent down, picked it up, and unfolded it to reveal her handwriting:

“I think it’s better if we don’t see each other for a while. Sorry.”

Maybe she was right.

Maybe she’d be better off without the warmth of your hand.

And you,without the cold of hers.

#Spotify #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #loser!ellie #mini series #tlou2 #ellie tlou2

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heliosunny · 2 days ago

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Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

I took a liking to this man recently so bear with me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ Promise I'll write one for Dazai soon.

The step-mother who once wore a mask of kindness revealed her true nature after your father passed away.

"Y/n!!!!! Get down here!" The woman adorned in luxurious fabrics and expensive jewels screamed your name at the top of her lungs. You were cleaning the messed she caused you earlier that morning.

I'm thirsty! Go make me a drink - the elder woman demanded, tossing you orders like you were nothing but a servant. Dutifully, you got her a glass of orange juice, only for her to knock it to the floor, watching it shatter without so much as a sip. Now, you carefully pick up the sharp fragments, trying not to cut yourself.

Her voice rang out again, shrill and impatient. You replied reluctantly, fully aware that hearing your name from her lips rarely brought anything good "Yes, I'm coming!"

Descending the stairs, you were greeted by an unfamiliar man seated on the couch sipping tea while speaking to your stepmother. The moment his eyes - cold and calculating met yours, a chill ran down your spine. Something was off.

Behind him stood two soldiers, their presence exuding quiet menance. Without warning, at his signal, they raised their weapons and shot your stepmother dead before your eyes.

"Y/n.." The man said, stepping forward. His uniform bores an air of authority, and his eyes, a piercing shade of violet, seemed to see right through you. "I need your ability." You stared at him with question. What ability? You have one?

You avoided his eyes and stared back where the corpse of your stepmother was. The man moved in your direction to keep your eyes on him. "You didn't know? Your father was a honorable man, yet he told you nothing?" You shook your head, stunned.

He sighed, almost amused "My my... You have the power to predict the near future, Y/n. Now that I've freed you from.." his gaze flicked to the corpse "whoever that was to you. I want you to work for me." Suprisingly, you agreed.

The man introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoevsky. He was straightforward, almost unsettlingly so. He admitted having prepared several ways to persuade you, but things had turned out far easier than he anticipated.

As your childhood home burnt to the ground, You felt little attachment to the ashes left behind. Without your father, it had never truly felt like home.

┈┈┈┈

"Now that you're with me, I'll teach you to use your ability." Fyodor said, his lips curling to a smile as he lead you to a room in his mansion. The place was old, its hallways cracks and worn, yet some rooms looked oddly well-maintained. The moment you sat on your bed, a strange sensation overtook you. Pain pierces your skull like a hammer blow, your nose bled, and your body collapsed. You fainted.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you saw was Fyodor sitting by your bedside. "Ah, you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Much better", you replied, though your voice was quiet and hesitant. "Good, rest." His hand gently patting your head. Suspicious of his kindness, you put his hand away and backed of a little. "You said you need my ability, what for?" For a moment, he was silent, simply staring at you with those unnerving eyes. That act creeps you out. Then, he stood and turned toward the door. "You'll find out soon enough." Before leaving, he added "You'll understand."

That night, sleep evaded you. Creaking footsteps echoed from above and around your room. A constant reminder of guards patrolling the mansion. Your mind raced with questions about Fyodor. Cruelty seemed second nature to him. After all, he had ordered your stepmother's death without hesitation.

A voice suddenly whispered from the windows "Shh, over here!" You turned, startled to see a man with white hair and a distinctive fringe. "I'm here to save you, open the window!"

"Save me?" You murmured to yourself, wondered.

┈┈┈┈

The story started to unfold as you encountered Atsushi and the men he mentioned to be detectives from Armed Detective Agency, your ability leading you to dangerous visions and even more dangerous choices.

"So she fled?" Fyodor stood in your room questioning the two guards, eyes scanning the whole place. "W-we didn't hear any sound.. sir- --khoff-" The one who was answering him cough up blood and drop dead soon after, leaving the other trembled in fear. "FIND HER!" Fyodor ordered.

Suddenly, a vision flashed in front of your eyes, you saw Fyodor. "STOP!!" You screamed, frightened Atsushi who was rushing through the bushes. He then stopped. He knew you saw something, as your ability is unstable, he didn't know when it will happen, yet it's better to be cautious. Fyodor is no man to joke with.

And so You returned. On your own.

Fyodor didn't even have to go, you're already here. "What did you see that changed your mind?"

"A lot" you replied "and definitely not worth risking the lives of others." By 'a lot', you mean there will literally be mountains of corpses. You got a hint of his nature and it was wrong for you to follow him back here, but he freed you from that wicked woman. You have mixed feelings about him. Fyodor signaled you to come closer to where he sits. You followed, he pulled you in. "Don't worry, You are in good care."

┈┈┈┈

Months passed. The bond between you and Fyodor grew more complicated. He exploited your ability ruthlessly, yet showed an inexplicable tenderness towards you. His touch lingered, his words carry a weight you couldn't ignore, and his gaze seemed to pierce in your very soul.

The only drawback to using your ability was the toll it took on your body. Prolonged use often left you feverish and drained.

Today was one of those days. You lay sprawled in your bed, feeling as though every ounce of strength had left your body. It was nearly impossible to even lift a finger.

"Y/n! Time to take your medicine." Fyodor called as he pushed the door open. Since aligning yourself with him, you had become something of a criminal, constantly moving from one safe house to another. You had long lost count of how many places you'd stayed in. Fyodor often leaves you behind, disappearing for meetings or visits to members of his mysterious organization. He never shares the details of his plans, brushing off your curiosity with a dismissive "It doesn't concern you."

Now as he sat beside you, you couldn't help but feel conflicted. You'd seen firsthand how easily he sacrificed others, treating them as pawns in his schemes. So why did he bother taking care of you with such apparent concern?

"Y/n, what are you thinking about?" He asked, his piercing eyes scanning your face. You shook your head weakly, unable to answer. He sighed and helped you sit up, his hands steady yet firm. "Your temperature is no joke, can you take this on your own?"

Before you could respond, another vision overwhelmed you. A sudden flash of Fyodor mercilessly killing the members of ADA. Blood, screams and lifeless bodies filled your mind, and it was enough to make your stomach churns. You had only encountered Atsushi and others a handful of times, but their kindness had left an impression. You couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a cruel fate.

"Y/n! Y/n!" Fyodor's voice broke through the fog of your vision. "Huh..?" Your consciousness wavered as you turned your head towards him. The dizziness hit you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed into his arms. For a brief moment, you thought you saw worry flicker across his face. That couldn't be right, Fyodor, worried? It had to be your imagination.

Without a word, he placed the pills into your mouth. Then, to your surprise, he drank water from the glass and passed it to you through a kiss. You were too weak to resist, and before you could process the intimacy of the act, the medicine was already working its way down your throat.

By the next morning, your fever had broken, and you felt noticeably better. You left your room quietly, your curiosity pulling you toward Fyodor's study. He was asleep, his usual composed expression softened in slumber. You hesitated, unsure whether to disturb him, but the stack of papers on his desk caught your attention. Creeping closer, you skimmed the documents. Your breathe hitched. Among the papers were detailed accounts of your father's death, your personal profile and outlines of Fyodor's larger plans.

And then there were the pills, your medicine. The documents revealed that their side effects weren't a natural result of using your ability but something he had engineered.

"Enjoying yourself, curious cat?" The low, mocking voice made your heart stop.

Before you could react, Fyodor was behind you. His hands pinned you to the desk, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"You..." the words caught in your throat. You were powerless, frozen under his control.

He leaned down, his breath warm against your neck as he inhaled deeply. "What a shame, I had hoped you would find those later," he murmured, his voice tinged with disappointment. Without warning, pain seared through you as his teeth sank into your neck. You gasped, the sensation both shocking and terrifying.

"I suppose I'll have to accelerate my plans" He said, pulling back to meet your wide-eyed stare. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him "I've given you everything you wanted, haven't I, Y/n?"

Your gaze dropped to his chest, unwilling to meet his piercing eyes. "Yes.." you whispered.

"Good." His voice softened, almost tender. "Then from today onward, you'll give me what I want."

#yandere bsd #bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor x reader #bsd x you #yandere x reader #bsd x reader

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spiderb00 · 3 hours ago

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I was wondering, as I thought about the fact I don't really like hugging people other than my friends, as in I don't really like hugging my family either(idk if thats weird); but getting to the point, how are the Kats' girlfriends with hugs? Who's a hugger? Who's not so much etc.

- ��

I think they are all very huggable, they just have different ways of showing it.

Manon is definitely the cuddler, this girl would be glued to you 24/7 if possible. She doesn't care about the teasing or anything like that, she just wants to feel your arms around her.

She loves to sit on your lap after a busy day, burying her head in your neck and completely relaxing until she falls asleep.

Daniela is next, I mean, she loves hugging you. She loves it when you put your arms around her and let her play with your shirt or run her hand over your abs.

She always runs to hug you after a performance, she feels safe in your arms and feels all the tension she felt go away immediately.

I feel like Megan would be next, I just think she is very needy in everything, not just hugs, but she would constantly be holding your hand for everything.

Megan loves to do things as long as she is connected to you in some way. Is she washing the dishes? does she want you to hug her from behind, is she laying down watching a movie? Does she want to put her head on your chest.

Lara also likes to hug you, especially in public, she stays very close to you, mainly so that no one thinks you are alone.

The girl grabs your hands so that you can wrap them around her waist, and she simply rests her back against your front. so she can feel the heat of your body, and see who's watching you.

It’s not that Sophia doesn’t like to hug you, she just doesn’t do it in public. She’ll definitely hold your hand and give you a few quick kisses on the cheek, but she rarely hugs you in public.

Now when you are alone, she won't get off you, no matter what you say, she is not moving. Do you want to go drink water? You can carry her with you. Do you want to play video games? You'll play with her on your lap, hugging your neck.

#megan skiendiel thoughts 💭#katseye thoughts 💭#daniela avanzini thoughts 💭#sophia laforteza thoughts 💭#manon bannerman thoughts 💭#lara raj thoughts 💭#💙 anon

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razzmatash · 1 day ago

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...With You Day 12 - “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” ...Sort of Love and Deepspace Sylus x f!OC 1406 Words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

Waking slowly, Calli shifted under the covers, frowning to herself. Something didn’t feel right. Sliding her hand across the mattress, her frown deepened when she didn’t find Sylus. She lifted her head and squinted in the dark but she couldn’t see any lights on from the bathroom. “Sylus?” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and pushing herself up in bed.

He wasn’t in the room that much was clear now. Tapping the beside lamp, she still looked around to confirm he wasn’t. Where had he gone? He’d been so insistent about her going to bed after she’d fallen asleep against his shoulder on the couch. She’d pushed herself too hard, according to him, and he was calling it a night. He’d carried her to bed and tucked her in, climbing in with her when she hadn’t settled down right away.

Except it had barely been ten so he wouldn’t have gone to sleep.

Pushing her hair away from her face, she frowned to herself. Was he out in the living room? Had he not stayed because he didn’t want to wake her up? The clock showed she’d been asleep for a couple hours so everyone else should have been asleep by now too. They’d all stayed so they could celebrate the holiday in the morning and so far as she was aware, his twins were crashing on the pull out couch. Would he go out there or-

Calli shivered as a faint breeze washed through the room and she watched the curtains stir from it. Was he outside? She swung her legs off the bed and scooped up a cardigan she’d tossed earlier to pull on before padding over to the glass doors. Quietly peeking out, she wasn’t entirely surprised to see him on the balcony, leaning on the railing and watching the city below him.

“Sylus?” she said softly, not sure if she should disturb him. He’d clearly gone out here to be alone.

He didn’t say anything but he turned just enough to hold out a hand to her.

Shuffling across the balcony, she didn’t complain about the cold on her feet as she took his hand. He moved her to stand in front of him, tucking her close while he continued to watch the city. She looked at him over her shoulder before looking out as well when he still stayed quiet.

They were up high enough that it gave a wonderful view of everything in the area. Her favourite was the park nearby because the city would always light up the trees and she enjoyed watching them twinkle in the relative darkness. But it wasn’t just them. Other balconies had lights and decorations strung up, some curtains open to show the trees lit up inside for people that were still awake. There were little pockets of holiday cheer no matter where you looked.

“It’s different from what I’m used to,” he said quietly, his voice rumbling through her. “Even if people in the N109 celebrate the holidays, they do it privately. There’s no outward sign that something is happening for fear of it being taken advantage of or ruined.”

Calli listened, her heart aching a little. The Zone was filled with all kinds of people, many who hadn’t asked to be there but were there anyways. Because there was nowhere else to go. She knew she couldn’t fix it even if she tried but the holidays were special to her. With how busy her family had been, it was the one time they had all always agreed that they would be together. No matter what was happening, they would get together for the holiday.

“In all the years I’ve been there, I’ve never celebrated anything. I never wanted to,” he admitted. “There was no reason to. Even when the twins came, they didn’t know what a normal routine was either. They did small things with each other, tried to prank me the first few years, but nothing like this. Nothing like what the last few weeks have been.”

The last few weeks had been hectic to say the least and she suddenly wondered if she should have eased him into it a little more gently. “I’m sorry if it was too much,” she said softly.

He ducked his head, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. “Don’t apologize. It wasn’t too much. It showed me a different side of you I hadn’t seen yet.”

Was that a good thing? Calli smiled wryly. “I don’t know how I should take that. I’ve been a little crazy the last few weeks.”

“Because it mattered to you and you wanted it to matter for me.”

That was true but it didn’t excuse it if she’d crossed a line. The arm around her belly tightened as he inhaled deeply, dropping a kiss on her neck that made her shiver.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he said quietly. “I told you you didn’t but you did it anyways.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you alone on the holiday,” Calli protested.

“The holidays don’t matter to me.”

She tried to twist to look at him but he kept her right where she was. “Sylus-”

“They don’t matter,” he repeated. “To me they’ve always been made up days that people use as an excuse to be together. You shouldn’t need an excuse for that. I don’t need an excuse for it. But they matter to you so I wanted to see why. I wanted you to show me why they mattered.”

“They matter because of the people I want to share them with.”

“And you wanted to share it with me.”

“Maybe we had a rocky start, Sylus, but if you think for one fucking second, you don’t matter to me, I’m going to throw you off this balcony.”

He chuckled, deep and low, and moved to press a kiss to her ear. “Odd way to show affection, sweetie.”

“You like it.”

He didn’t deny it and kissed her again. “They still don’t matter to me,” Sylus said after a moment.

She bit her lip to keep from reflexively saying anything. He wasn’t done and if she interrupted him, she wouldn’t get the rest of it.

“But what matters to me is that you shared it with me. You made space in your life, in your rituals, to include me. You went out of your way to do so. That you’re willing to do that for me...that’s what matters to me.” He paused, rubbing his cheek against her hair. “You’re what matters to me.”

Her breath caught as he gripped her chin between chilly fingers and turned her just enough so she could see him. “Sylus.”

“All I need is you, Calliope,” he said quietly. “Nothing else matters so long as I have you.”

She didn’t know what she was trying to say, words jumbled in her throat, before he kissed her. It was slow and deep, his teeth nipping at the plush of her lower lip before his tongue swiped over it soothingly. He slid it against her own, holding her captive while he took his time with her. One hand fisted in his shirt, holding onto him as the world dropped away around her. There was only him.

She managed to get out his name as he lifted his mouth from hers but that was all before he claimed her again. The hand on her chin slid back into her hair, burying in the curls to hold her steady as she began to tremble.

When he finally eased back from her, it was only far enough to press his forehead to hers. His gaze was heavy on her as he watched her gasp for air, taking in all of her. “I don’t need presents,” he said softly. “You are my present.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a small breath. “We’re still going on the trip,” she pushed out.

She didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling before he kissed the tip of her nose. “We’re still going on the trip,” he agreed, his grip around her waist moving to band around her thighs and lift her up. “I’m looking forward to unwrapping my present.”

Not opening her eyes as he carried her back inside, Calli hung onto Sylus and told herself to just breathe. Considering what all she had bought for him to ‘unwrap’, she’d be lucky to survive the trip.

#12daysofchristmas2024 #love and deepspace #lads #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus #sylus x oc

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russeliarat · 2 years ago

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How do you possibly write that nostalgic feeling of times gone past, reflecting in one's bed during a starry, rainy night? It's genuinely such a hard feeling to describe in words.

#though personally #i always feel this way listening to a song i became attached to at a certain time #it always reminds me of that event but also back when my room was my own and not shared w my sister #and of starry silent wintery/autumnal evenings right after meeting with friends and it's getting dark #when you feel lonely but really happy and giddy that you got to hang out with them and mess around like children again #but if it's really old and i mean like a decade or so old #i'm reminded of school discos in year 5 or 6 and playing tag and hide-and-seek w my best friend at the time #how we'd sing those songs on a bright summer holiday afternoon as we came walking back to her house from the major park we both lived near #and how we'd feel so on top of the world #and now i wonder how she's doing after she moved away #i wonder how everyone's doing after being almost 5 years apart #or of how even during lockdown i would be sat listening to minecraft osts and taking long walks down said major park #around the time i began to write and plan ootf and being reminded how thoughtful and clear headed i used to be #i'm a bit nostalgic if you can't tell #:')

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tonycries · 7 months ago

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Unmistakably Yours - G.S.

Synopsis. In which the strongest bends space and time - literally - after coming back from deatḣ, to do what he’s always wanted to do - you.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, best friends to lovers, Satoru goes a little (very) INSANE, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, manga spoilers, use of jujutsu powers, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, féral Satoru, heinous things, happy ending, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.5k

A/N. Yeahhh that poll was cooking up something devious heheh. Gege give me back my man.

Gojo Satoru was going to kill someone.

He was going to kill someone and it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter how. It didn’t even matter if he had to haul his broken body - scarred and barely-healed - out of this stiff infirmary bed, because the great Gojo Satoru awoke and the world shook.

Because you weren’t here.

“Ah. The oh-so deadest one, I see you’re awake.” Satoru flinches at the sharp, exhausted drawl from his left.

Slowly, he blinks away the haze in his aching eyes, desperately trying to adjust to the cold room. Shoko’s voice was too loud. The lights too bright. His waiting arms too empty - where were you?

With a low hiss, Satoru’s body is moving before his mind, sitting up like a man possessed. Goosebumps prickle his skin as the thin blanket falls off his shoulders. Temples throbbing because the world was spinning and spinning and you-

“Calm down, Satoru.” Shoko sounds almost panicked now - as much as she could, anyway. Uselessly trying to push him back onto the mattress. “I don’t care if you’re the ‘strongest’. Sukuna did a number on you and you have to rest-”

“Where is she?”

---

It was the final nail on your coffin - that slight, steady rumble beneath your feet. So fleeting that you’d written it off as your weary brain, too goddamn tired from today. Heaving out a sigh, you rub your eyes in frustration, so fucking alone in this too-large penthouse.

Fingers jittery, you rifle through your best friend’s closet for his box of blindfolds, because you knew he’d be complaining about the sensory overload at the infirmary if- when he woke up. Though, you think that was more an excuse for Shoko to send your wrecked self away than anything.

Grabbing a few more than necessary, your heart lurches as you eye that dusty framed photo by his bedside. A much younger Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you - probably the last time any of you smiled so carelessly.

One dead and the other just on the cusp of it.

He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay. He’s the strongest, right?

Swallowing heavily, you try to put your mind to something - anything - other than the memory of that battlefield and the blood. So much blood. Everywhere.

God, you should’ve stayed. What if Satoru-

That was when you felt it.

The tight, uncomfortable feeling of atoms standing at attention all around you. The air was so stagnant and heavy that it was almost hard to breathe.

You don’t know how you realize what it is - but you don’t get the chance to wonder about it either. Because the thought has barely even crossed your mind before everything else is thrown at the window at those two words.

Hoarse, and whispered, voice ever-so-slightly cracking at the end. One you recognized, one you knew you always would.

“My love?”

Satoru.

It was a miracle that you didn’t get whiplash from how fast you whirled around to face the doorway - and it was an even bigger miracle that you didn’t trip at how your legs were carrying you to that tall, familiar flash of white hair without a second thought.

Hell, you don’t think you’ve ever run this fast in your life, and it still wasn’t quick enough when Satoru engulfed you in his arms. Letting out a soft sigh as he hugs you tight enough that it hurt, like he never wanted to let go.

All familiar warmth and a rapid heartbeat that matched your own.

A shiver runs down your spine at that scent of the infirmary, tinged with something so dangerously metallic, miles away from the usual hints of pine and candy. But you only pull Satoru closer - not even realizing the tears staining his snug t-shirt, nails digging into his sculpted back.

“S-Satoru?” you murmur wetly, as if you still couldn’t believe it - even when you were in his strong arms.

It killed you to pull away, and Satoru wasn’t any better, pulling you firmly to his heated body with a guttural grunt as soon as you showed any signs of shifting away. Grip almost bruising, fingers tight on your hips. But you didn’t mind, why would you?

Because the strongest was nothing under your will - he always was. And it’s only once you break the embrace just a fraction of an inch that you confirm that this actually was Satoru - your Satoru.

“You’re here.” you breathe out unsteadily, not knowing where to look first - his heaving chest, as if he’d run all the way here, or those faint scars along his exposed skin. Jagged, running down his pale skin like he was too impatient - too distracted - to let them heal properly. Satoru’s face was scarily blank, pretty lips set in a tight grimace like every second you weren’t locked in his arms killed him.

He doesn’t answer - like he didn’t know himself. Nervously, you raise your eyes to meet his and-

Oh, Satoru, he was here. Alive.

Looking like he was ready to make sure that no one else was.

You just wondered where they’d pile all the casualties. Too many to bury at Jujutsu High if those tiny blue flickers of lightning at the corners of Satoru’s eyes were anything to go by.

Gaze hooded, pupils blown, he didn’t look at you with that usual warmth. No, he looked at you like a man that had crawled back from death just to rip you apart. And you had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade curse that had just come disguised as your best friend.

“Are you okay?” you try again, raising a hand to cup his cheek. “Toru?”

Oh, you might as well have just signed your own will, because no sooner are the words out of your mouth before Satoru’s jolting. Like the mere sound of that stupid little nickname from high school was enough to shock him to his very core.

Electrify him just enough to finally look at you like it was the first time. Like he was seeing you after a thousand years. “My love.”

There it was again, that quiet, strained little mantra.

Followed very closely by the deafening slam! of the door behind him, so hard that you spy one of the hinges rattling off. Startled, you look over Satoru’s broad shoulders just to catch a glimpse of the single, large handprint charred into the wood, slight steam wafting from his hand.

Shit. He’s lost it.

Almost like the strongest has forgotten his restraint - or didn’t care about it either way. Heated, you wondered what this boded for you.

Will you be lucky number one on his kill list? You wonder, as Satoru presses his mouth right above your pulse. Racing. Dangerous. Feeling the rapid thump! thump! thump! under his lips.

Breathing you in, dragging his nose up, up, up- He mutters into your skin, “Y’can kill me if you don’t want this.” Will you go down - if there’s anyone left to remember, that is - as the casualty that surely and officially signaled the honored one’s descent into madness? Only the second best friend he had to kill?

Or, Satoru pulls away slowly from his little haven, breath ghosting your lips as he gasps out a shaky, “No God can take me away without doing this.” Will it be something else entirely?

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him.

Because fuck, how could you not? This is Satoru, and this is all you’ve ever wanted since those late night convenience store runs in high school, hand-in-hand and teleporting away from a furious Yaga.

The same Satoru that had cockily winked at you goodbye before facing Sukuna - leaving you crying with nothing to hold onto but those cold, cold hands and wishes that you’d have just fucking kissed him before. Maybe even put aside your pride to just tell him.

But none of that mattered now, because Satoru was so desperate - drinking you in like you were the last breath of air on Earth. Like it hurt more to part with your lips than it was to be cleaved in half.

Such a mess of teeth and saliva, and you were addicted. Drunk off his sweet taste - like candy, almost, and those cheap mochi he always got from downtown - and the electricity pricking at you each time your skin grazed against his.

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good.

Gasping, you pull away for air - impossible with the way Satoru was like a madman, kissing your swollen lips again and again and-

“Toru!” you squeal, muffled through his lips. “Aren’t you-” His mouth drops into a soft oh! at the delicate strings of saliva snapping in the non-existent space between you two. Surging forward like he couldn’t help himself. “Battlefield- mmpf- now?”

With a pained grunt, Satoru finally halts, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. And if you were in any better state of mind, maybe you’d have noticed the brief flicker of blue lightning all over his body. The way the lights flicker.

“Special curtain.” he pants against your open mouth, a muscled thigh shoving between your weakening legs. “Time barely passes in here.”

You don’t know what your head is reeling more from his words or his hands - hands that kill - caressing you like a lover everywhere. Unable to decide between your hips, to your ass, to your pretty pretty face. Kiss-bitten lips uttering, “Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“So?” Satoru lets out a humorless laugh. About an octave higher than usual, like he was at the end of his rope now. Eyes hazy and glowing, looking as if it took everything in him to not just tear off that uniform and take you right now.

“But-”

“Shut up and let me ruin you, my love.”

Your back is hitting the mattress before you can even start to wonder what the fuck is happening. One second standing at the doorway and the other all sprawled out on Satoru’s bed.

Besides yourself, you blurt out, trying to make sense of the situation to both of you two. “Did- did you just teleport us?”

“Don’t know.” he answers. And Satoru sounded like he genuinely didn’t know, as bewildered as you were. Powers acting before him - way, way before he can think - as he fists your shirt in his hands. “Don’t care.”

And you half wondered whether Satoru was even aware of what he was doing as he pulls, down, down down.

Rip!

It tears through the air - both the sound, and the way he’s just pulling your shirt to shreds. All depravity and no repentance as Satoru throws it behind God-knows-where. Buttons hitting the floor at a maddening little rhythm to which he was slowly losing his sanity.

He was kissing you like he was angry - taking it out on your poor clothes. Because before you know it, he’s pulling your bra off. Fingers searing on your skin, skirt just tatters on the floor.

“Waited too long.” he groans, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “Always wanted to do this.” And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into the valley of your breasts, “Ever since I first saw you and oh-”

That was it - only one look at your panties, all flimsy and drenched - and you’re back to wondering what Satoru’s kill count would be. You shudder as his eyes widen, letting out a strangled gasp from some deep, primal part of himself. Voice so broken and starved as he muses, “-can’t believe I waited this long.”

Shit. You weren’t making it out alive.

Immediately, Satoru’s dropping further down the mattress, easily pushing your knees up all the way till they were at your breasts.

And it was so unfair.

Unhair how he was still fully clothed, while you were spread so shamefully. Unfair how he was sliding his underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Up and down, up and down up and- Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips before pulling, marveling at how sinfully soaked they were.

And it was like something snapped - maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this. Because just a split-second later, Satoru’s tearing right through your panties. Not even taking a second to breathe before burying his pretty face into your dripping cunt.

Unfair how you were liking it so dangerously. Being so used.

And Satoru knows - he thinks, with whatever rationality he has left intact - that he wants to admire your pretty lil’ cunt. To finally drink in what he’s been dreaming about for years all these lonely nights. But, no, that’s for later - for a different Satoru, one that didn’t feel like he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste you right now.

“Ah! Hngh- T-Toru-” you arch into his hot tongue, as he licks erratically up your folds, long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Lapping at your juices like he couldn’t stop.

“Tha’s right.” words muffled into your cunt. Throwing your legs over his sculpted shoulders. “Gimme more, use me. Use me- fuck fuck fuck- yeah.”

He sounded as delirious as you were already, flinching with each word spat into your sensitive cunt. Drunk off your pussy and so messy, like he was well and fully intent on ruining you.

And it’s all you can do to sob so needily as he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Seemingly unable to decide between sucking on it harshly and dipping into your sloppy hole. In and out. Wanting everything. Anything.

“Fuck. S’too deep. Sh-shit.”

“Oh yeah?” he’s grinning, a cruel, cold little grin. You can feel it as he rolls his tongue against your clit over and over. “S’not deep enough.”

You pathetically try to close your legs around his head in shock, as the tips of his long fingers spread open your pussy further, teasing your entrance.

But who were you against the strongest? The one that got everything handed to him on a silver platter since birth? Except you - until now, that is.

Because Satoru’s swatting thighs back open like it was a mere inconvenience, and feel your cunt clench in- fear? Anticipation? as you realize how gently he was throwing you around like a ragdoll, in comparison to that door from earlier.

“No.” he sounds absolutely wrecked, babbling around your throbbing clit. “Need this- need you.”

And then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, so greedily that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Drinking in your pretty gasps of his name as he roams for that one spot he knows will have you seeing stars - only the best for his girl, right? The only thing on his mind right now, like a predator starved.

You can only tug on his hair and buck wildly underneath him, inching Satoru closer to where he was desperately searching for. Close - so close.

“Toru-” you moan, like a prayer.

But it wasn’t fast enough.

Not for Satoru, at least.

Even through the haze in your eyes, you could make out that brief flash of electric blue in-between your legs, eyes widening as ah-

That cheat.

You wondered if he even knew he was using his powers right now. Or whether Satoru was too far gone at this point. Way too smug with the way he hits that one spot. Hard.

Ah, you quiver as something so dark sparks in his eyes. Looking like a man starved, that had finally come across his favorite meal. Moving with frightening accuracy as he pumps his fingers in and out, hitting it each and every time.

“Shit, ngh-” you let out a shrill moan, “It’s too good. You’re so fucking-”

One hand was so messy toying with your dripping entrance - the other digging into your hips. Dragging your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth.

Hard enough that you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. If you even made it that long, that is, if the tiny shocks of electricity at his fingertips told you anything.

Desperate. Violent, even.

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same. “Fuck- m’cumming m’cumming, fuck fuck fuck-” You’re shaking as you cum, crying out Satoru’s name and delirious little moans that you’d otherwise be embarrassed of.

And he doesn’t stop. Not when you’re blinking your vision back. Not when you’re shying away from his tongue, the stars behind your eyes too much with each flick of his tongue.

“S’too much- too- fuck, sensitive, Toru.” you whine, big fat tears clinging to your lashes.

Ah, there it was again. Just when Satoru was beginning to think that he might just be veering into a state of mind that could be considered sane - you have to call him that goddamn nickname again. And it’s only driving him wild.

Well, he muses, fumbling with the hem of his t-shirt, it’s really on you then.

You let out a fucked-out little whine as Satoru finally takes his shirt off, revealing such milky, toned skin. All sharp curves and dips like he was sculpted so meticulously, going down, down, down and- Your breath hitches at the large, pink scar standing out of his torso, so uneven and fresh that you feel a fresh wave of tears - different ones, this time.

You take a steadying breath, eyes unmoving from the injury. “Satoru-”

“No.” Satoru’s tone is firm, so different from the metallic tinkling of his belt. He was moving now, shifting in between your legs to kiss those tears away. “Need this. Need you. Need you need you need you so bad-”

“But your…” you trail off. The words catch in your throat as he finally unbuckles his belt, pulling down his pants just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, soaked in precum.

He was so…massive. Now, you expected your best friend to have a big dick, but this was ridiculous. He was so intimidatingly long, thick enough that you could feel the slick beading out of your sloppy hole already.

Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive.

Satoru sees it too, of course, because his cock twitches furiously. A low hiss leaving those pretty pink lips before he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Once. Twice.

And you know that if this shameless bastard could use six eyes to find your g-spot, then he could’ve done the same for this. But, no, he lets some of it miss, splattering against your inner thigh, smearing all over as Satoru thumbs in his saliva with your slick.

God, he was treating you like some object. Wordlessly throwing your legs over his shoulders, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy.

And then you feel like you’re been split apart - because Gojo Satoru was unforgiving. As was his aching cock. He’s barely even pressing through the first ring of muscle, and you already feel like he’s pushing all the way into your lungs.

“T-Toru.” you yelp, glancing down at the way your pussy was stretched so lewdly around his thick cock. Quivering as he keeps pushing and pushing and- no mercy. Absolutely none at all. “Can feel you so deep inside ngh- I don’t think I can…”

“No no no no no-” he’s panting into your open mouth. Fucking into your heavenly cunt in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to squeeze deeper inside. “Need this. Want this. Always did. God, fuck fuck fuck, you can do it-”

“But-”

God, Satoru can’t help but kiss you - to shut those cute lil’ whines up more than anything, he’s sure he’ll cum right there and right now if he didn’t.

Because Satoru wasn’t any better. Body bowing into yours, eyes rolling to the back of his head, mouth falling into a delirious oh! as he finally bottoms out. Balls smacking your ass too hard, your pussy too tight, you too beautiful underneath him.

Blindly, he reaches for the headboard - white-knuckling it so hard that it’s a wonder it doesn’t break.

It does - and later you’ll find a pile of splinters behind the bed. It’s just that neither of you notice. Too high off the feeling of Satoru’s cock pushing inside you. You’re clawing at his back now, gasping for air. Letting him fold you in half to filthily lick away the tears pooling at your cheeks.

“Shit- y’got this, my love. You gotta- ah- Breathe-” he can’t even speak properly, sharp tongue so heavy. Eyes glowing with such insanity as he rocks his hips harder into yours.

He was right - you needed to breathe. To finally wrap your head around the fact that this was Satoru - your best friend - the same one that binge-watches sappy rom-coms with you after every breakup. Every. Single. One. Somehow, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point. And he was out of control now.

Funny, how in all his dreams when you were screaming his name - Satoru was always suave, methodical, playing with your pretty pussy like a fine instrument. Right now, he was anything but. Sloppy - like he didn’t have enough time, never would, even in this room where time slowed.

“Don’t you run away.” he grunts at the way you’re so adorably torn between running away from his cock and bucking for more more more- “Waited twelve fucking years for this. N’ m’gonna take it.”

You almost sob at the pressure as he laces his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper. Down, down, down. “S’too good, Toru. Wan’ more-”

“More.” Satoru breathes, more to himself than anything. Eyes widening almost comically, a fucked-out smile spreading all over his face. “Y’want more even when you’re filled to-” He traces an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “Here?”

“Yes.” you gasp as he reaches down to toy with your throbbing clit, drawing tight, frenzied little circles. Balls smacking your ass so painfully, thumb pressing down right where his tip was hitting your cervix - as if he used six eyes to see. “Always wanted more. Always have, Toru.”

And you swear you could see something physically snap inside Satoru. Because his eyes glaze over, grin dropping instantly from his face.

If you weren’t so cockdrunk maybe you’d have caught the way the bedroom lights flicker, the one down the hallway bursting.

“Always, huh?” he’s muttering, grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Wanted more like me?” Rocking into you so sloppily, cock twitching so painfully as he speeds up. Fingers just as desperate - as depraved as his hips.

And this time, he doesn’t even have to use six eyes to find that one spot. Knowing your body well enough to hit it over and over until you were sobbing. “More more more more- fuckin’ take it then.”

At this point you didn’t know whether Satoru was always this ruthless in bed or you’d just broken him. It felt so good that it was almost scary. And your delirious mind wandered into the thought that maybe the bed would break - and your bones to follow.

Well, they would have if Satoru hadn’t been using reversed cursed technique. But you didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Satoru-” you squeal as he only gets more erratic. “I’m…”

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting, smacking his lips against your own.

It’s laughable, really, that muffled question - because Satoru knew you were close. Losing his fucking mind, actually, at how you were squeezing so hard around him. Balls squeezing so painfully right now, but he wanted you to cum first - needed you to cum first.

“Yeah, so close. Wan’ cum- Ah! Please-”

“Then cum. Fucking cum, wan’ed this so bad.” he’s babbling deliriously. Little sparks of lightning visible even to your glassy eyes, fingers humming with a dangerous little energy that stimulated you so good. “Yeah, yeah yeah yeah fucking cum, wanna hngh-”

And then you are. So sudden and hard that you don’t even realize it at first. Just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Rocking your hips into Satoru’s like such a slut.

Oh, if heaven was really then the part of Satoru that can still form coherent thoughts thinks this just might be it.

Because only the sight of you creaming all around his swollen cock and he’s cumming and cumming so hard that it hurts. Thick, hot ropes of cum that he can’t seem to stop. Doesn’t want to stop, and God he thinks he could cum until you beg and beg and beg it’s too much. Until you’re yelling for-

“Mercy!” you moan, head spinning with how fucking overfilled your pussy was. “Please, Toru-”

Satoru lets out a slight gasp, “Mercy?” Chuckling so cruelly at your dazed nod, “No mercy, my love. None at all.”

And God, it was so fucking hard to look at him too - eyes half-lidded and miles away, flushed and looking like he was anywhere but laid out on a hospital bed just a few minutes ago. In fact, Satoru looked like he was in heaven on Earth as he only milked his painfully hard cock on your snug pussy.

Pretty. Always so fucking pretty.

And he kept whispering that, over and over in your ear as you both ride out your highs. Oh how he loved you.

Your eyes fly open, and Satoru knew he’d said that out loud. Shit. But, well, with the way you were immediately pulling him to collapse into your arms, he thinks he really doesn’t mind.

“Love you, love you. Love you so much. Always did, always wanted to love you- to fuck you.” You barely even notice him marking down your neck, sharp canines digging into the flesh like he wanted to break something. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood. “To ruin you.”

It was oozing out of you, both Satoru’s cum - dribbling down your legs in thick globs, pooling on the overpriced sheets below - and his power. Jolts of electricity running down all the way from your poor, abused cunt to your hazy mind.

“So do it.” The air was crackling - crackling with intensity and the smell of jujutsu. It was in your veins, in your words as you whisper, “Ruin me. You’re the- ngh- only- one f’me, Toru. Always was.”

The lights go out. All of them - all across Tokyo, in fact. Shining so bright that it was blinding, until they burst. The last thing you see are his eyes - electrified with blue lightning, burning into your brain.

And then it’s black.

---

“I’ll be back before ya know it, my love.” he whispers against your forehead, cooing at the way you stir sleepily. “Gotta pest to take care of.”

Taking down that curtain wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was actually fucking regaining his senses enough to do so.

And now, all cleaned up and fucked to sleep on his bed, you were looking so unbearably delectable that it made some part of Satoru just want to stay behind this curtain. To forget the waiting sorcerers on the battlefield. Saving the world be damned.

Well, no matter, Satoru had time. He was the strongest, right? After all, how could he give you the world if there was no world to give?

“N’ when I’m back, m’gonna kiss ya to death till you go out with me. Till everyone knows you’re unmistakably mine.”

A/N. GET IT - that unmistakable bit from the panel?

Plagiarism not authorized.

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