#it would balance them..... it would certainly do something... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

embbarnes · 2 months ago

Text

Sugar Plums. | W.S

summary: The soldier has an attachment to you.

a/n: This came to me randomly but thought it was cute and somewhat spicy. I added some fluff to balance it all out and tried to keep the sexy scenes sweet too. I see so many fics of him being super aggressive in bed and those are great, but for me I think he'd be a little more like this. Takes place after the events of CA:TWS. Contains roughly translated Russian, native speakers can correct me if anything was translated wrong. Ty. ;; wc: 5.5k

It was so awkward.

Everyone sat frozen in place, their eyes locked on the imposing figure of the Winter Soldier as he towered behind you, his piercing blue eyes methodically scanning the room and studying each occupant with an intensity that made them shift uncomfortably in their seats.

"Absolutely not!" Tony was the first to break the suffocating silence, his voice sharp and decisive as he beat Steve to speaking by a mere second. There was absolutely no way he would even consider allowing the fist of HYDRA to take up residence in his tower, treating him like he was nothing more than some lost stray that needed sheltering. "He's not staying here, no way in hell - this isn't a halfway house for reformed assassins."

"Tony, come on. HYDRA is gone, their control over him is broken," you reasoned desperately, your voice taking on a pleading tone as you gestured toward the silent figure behind you, "He's been surviving on his own for weeks, barely getting by. Just look at him...he's exhausted, malnourished, and clearly needs somewhere safe to stay and recover."

"Uh, how about no?" Tony fired back, staring at you like you had grown a second head...or like you had a towering sleeper soldier looming behind you.

Tony wasn't your favorite person in the world, but he was usually somewhat reasonable.

"There's absolutely no way that he's staying here. Have you completely lost your mind? What if he suddenly snaps or loses control and goes completely berserk, hm? What if one night those sleeper triggers buried in his brain suddenly activate and he systematically takes us out one by one in our sleep?" Tony added emphatically, his hands gesturing wildly in the air as he attempted to visualize the gruesome scenarios playing out in his mind.

"Your state-of-the-art security cameras can't give us a heads up before that happens?" You asked with dry sarcasm, your tone deliberately flat and unimpressed, clearly making a joke while you tried to find some kind of middle ground that would get the agitated, self-proclaimed playboy to calm down and think rationally.

"No chance in hell, sweet cheeks," he folded his arms and glared at you with sternness that etched across his features. "Too dangerous."

"He's staying, whether you like it or not," you replied in the same unwavering tone, standing your ground with resolute conviction. "He's hurt, weak, completely vulnerable. There's absolutely nothing he could possibly do in this state. He needs somewhere warm and safe to stay, especially since he's been struggling to survive out on the streets for weeks now. Besides, winter is coming fast and there’s no way he won’t get hypothermia or something." You added with concern, knowing full well that while the soldier hadn't been entirely helpless during his ordeal, he certainly hadn't managed to secure any kind of stable shelter.

His temporary refuges consisted only of cold spaces beneath bridges, dark corners tucked away in forgotten alleys, or the remains of abandoned buildings - not a single place where he could truly let his guard down or feel protected from the harsh elements. With winter's rapid approach and already light dustings of snow, the temperatures would only get more brutal as the nights went on.

You continued to argue with Tony, Steve butting in every so often, luckily siding with you, desperate to have his old friend somewhere safe. It was a long, frustrating argument that lasted much longer than need be.

Earlier that day, while you had been making your way down the frost-covered street of New York's downtown district, his eyes had caught sight of your familiar form. Something deep within him told him to follow you, a magnetic pull that he couldn't explain. He obeyed the instinct, trailing silently behind you all the way back to the tower. When you finally became aware of his presence, he was thoroughly drenched from the steadily falling snow, his cheeks and nose having turned a bright, rosy color from the biting cold as he tried to suppress his constant shivering.

The moment you made your sudden turn to approach him, he visibly startled, immediately taking a defensive step backward as his mind raced through all the possible scenarios and potential threats. His eyes darted across your face with obvious wariness as you fully turned to face him, his entire body subtly shifting its weight from foot to foot, muscles tensed and ready to bolt away.

"It's okay...you look cold..." You spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, trying not to startle him as you took in his disheveled appearance. The soldier, the one whose face had practically been plastered across every news channel, the same one Steve had spoken about with such raw emotion in his voice.

You remembered how Steve had mourned his best friend, utterly confused and devastated about why he had saved from the river, while Bucky fell to what should have been his death. Steve held onto that grief, that guilt, like a lifeline. He held onto it so desperately, clinging to the faintest hope that a sliver of Bucky was still somewhere deep inside the persona of the Winter Soldier.

Looking at him now, you couldn't see any trace of the man from Steve's stories - the soldier's eyes were too wild and wide, filled with fear and confusion.

But despite everything you'd heard, despite the destruction you'd witnessed on the news, despite the intense warnings from everyone in the tower, there was something about his presence that didn't trigger your fight or flight response.

He didn't make you feel unsafe.

He looked absolutely beat down, exhausted to his very core, his shoulders slumped in a way that made you wonder when he'd last had a moment's rest. You weren't even sure he could take you down if he tried in this state, though you knew his reputation suggested otherwise. He was shaking from the cold air as it blew in a stinging breeze, his metal arm gleaming dully in what little light remained, while the incoming winter storm brought with it a thick haze and countless tiny pinpricks of needle-like snowflakes that seemed to cut through the air.

"Come inside with me, I'll take care of you." You offered quietly, your voice gentle and reassuring as you extended your hand towards him. Your body language remained open and non-threatening, shoulders relaxed and posture deliberately casual to help put him at ease and to show him you felt no fear.

After a few silent moments where his piercing blue eyes studied you through the thick haze, he finally shifted his weight forward and took a step in your direction.

The water in the shower had set a steady steam in the bathroom, the mirror had fogged and the tiles sweat below your bare feet.

You could hear the gentle splashing of water against the bathtub as he cleaned himself. The mechanical whirring of his metal arm caught your attention, hopefully that thing was waterproof, but it must be, right?

After setting out a fresh towel and clean clothes for his use, you quietly excused yourself to provide him with privacy. The state of his current attire was awful, every piece was thoroughly saturated and carried an unmistakable stench that made you wrinkle your nose. The clothes were in such poor condition that you couldn't help but wonder if they had been scavenged from someone who no longer needed them.

You wouldn’t put it past the soldier to steal from a cadaver.

His shower routine was notably brief, years of conditioning taught him to minimize the time spent on his personal care. Upon finishing, he emerged from behind the curtain and efficiently dried himself with the provided towel. His gaze fell upon the fresh clothes you had thoughtfully placed by the sink, while his previous garments had been discreetly removed.

The soldier hesitated momentarily before donning the clean outfit. It wasn’t anything fancy, a pair of grey sweatpants emblazoned with the Avenger's logo along the side and a simple yet comfortable black tank top. When he finally emerged from the bathroom to face you, his body language betrayed his uncertainty as he stood there, not sure what to do now. Comfort was completely foreign to him, and care was a dream away.

"Tony finally gave in," you replied softly, your voice sounded in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. "He said you could stay here with us."

He remained motionless, his expression blank and unreadable as he stood there, offering neither response nor the slightest hint of acknowledgement to your words. You weren’t sure what to expect but that seemed pretty in character for him at the moment.

"You'll be staying in my quarters since no one else is comfortable having you in their space just yet...but don't worry too much about that," you reassured gently, though you could tell from his demeanor that others' opinions held little weight in his mind. "They'll come around after some time, I'm sure of it."

His gaze fixed upon you then, his brow creasing ever so slightly with an unspoken question as he began to move. Each step was deliberate and measured as he crossed the room, closing the distance between you until he stood directly in front of you, close enough that you could see the water droplets from his freshly washed hair beading at the ends and falling onto the fabric of your top, leaving dark spots where they landed.

"Everything's going to be fine," you said with gentle reassurance, trying to ease the tension in the air. "Why don't we head to the kitchen and get you something to eat? You must be hungry." You offered, hoping to bring some normalcy to the situation.

The soldier shadowed your every movement, following closely behind like a faithful companion who refused to stray from their master's side.

Upon entering the expansive kitchen, you immediately made your way to the industrial-sized refrigerator, searching through its contents for something suitable to offer him. The kitchen was perpetually stocked to the brim with an array of foods, snacks, and ingredients, practically anything one could imagine or desire. It was like having a private, fully-stocked grocery store.

Though with a the ravenous super soldier with enhanced metabolism, the mighty Asgardian god whose appetite matched his status, and Banner's surprisingly hulk-ish consumption…the team still depleted their food with an efficiency that would put a pack of famished wolves to shame.

"Hm...what should you have...do you want anything specific?" You turned over your shoulder to address him, but he maintained his characteristic silence. Unmoving, and completely stoic, like a statue carved from marble.

"Нет [No]," came his quiet response, the Russian word rolling off his tongue deeply. He remained perfectly still, observing with careful attention as you continued your search through the refrigerator's contents, trying to determine what would be most appropriate for him to eat. Your mind was working quickly, knowing you wanted to avoid anything too time-consuming to prepare. You wanted to get some food into him sooner rather than later.

"How about...I could make some soup real quick? Tomato and grilled cheese might be a safe option for you. Shouldn't upset your stomach too much if you haven’t been eating a lot, and it will warm you up if you're still feeling cold." You turned back toward him once more, studying his features carefully for any hint of reaction or preference to your suggestion, any subtle change in his expression.

But, he didn't provide even the slightest indication of his feelings.

You decided on tomato soup and a grilled cheese anyway, you figured it was best and immediately set to work in the kitchen.

Although you typically prided yourself on preparing meals completely from scratch, this particular circumstance called for something different. You assembled the sandwich, buttering the bread before placing it in a heated pan to get a golden-brown crust while keeping a watchful eye on the pot of soup simmering beside it, occasionally stirring for even heating.

Once everything reached the perfect temperature and consistency, you transferred the meal onto clean dishes, relieved it didn’t take too long. You presented him with the steaming bowl of soup and perfectly grilled sandwich, watching as the soldier deliberately took his place at the counter, his eyes fixed intently on the rising steam from the bowl before him.

You watched him, noting how his entire body remained unnaturally rigid and motionless, as though every muscle was locked in place and braced for something. His lips bore a slight sheen of moisture, like he had licked them at some point when you weren't watching. Yet despite his obvious hunger, he hadn't made even the slightest attempt to reach for the food. His eyes held intense longing and hesitation, briefly meeting yours before quickly darting away, as if making eye contact was somehow forbidden.

"What's wrong?" You asked with growing concern etched across your features, "You're hungry aren't you? I can tell you haven't eaten in a while. Especially not anything warm, at least. I know it can be hard out there, all by yourself…"

His response came in the form of an almost imperceptible nod, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on the bowl and sandwich before him, as though they were the most important and most dangerous objects in the room.

"So why aren't you eating? The food's getting cold, it won’t be as good if it cools too much."

"Я не могу совершить действие без приказа. [I cannot perform an action without an order]," the soldier responded in barely more than a whisper, his voice carrying the weight of years of conditioning.

You stood there, completely lost in the language barrier between you. Your limited knowledge of Russian extended only to the most basic words - 'да' and 'нет' - leaving you clueless by his response and worried about the implications of his behavior.

You didn't want to wake Natasha, even though she would certainly understand what he was saying in Russian, but disturbing her sleep for something as simple as a quick translation seemed unnecessary and might put her in a bad mood. Instead, an idea popped into your head that would avoid an angry widow. You reached for your phone and placed it on the smooth counter surface, navigating to a translator app before looking up at him again. "Can you repeat that?"

The soldier's eyes flickered briefly to the phone screen, taking in the sight of the translation app with what seemed like recognition, before his gaze deliberately returned to the untouched food laid out before him. "I cannot perform an action without an order," he stated in perfect, albeit mechanical English this time.

You blinked in surprise, thoroughly caught off guard by the sudden switch to English when he had been persistently speaking Russian up until this point. "Okay...well...eat then, you can eat freely here, you don't need an order to do that." You slowly tucked your phone away into your pocket as his right hand gradually lifted from where it had been resting in his lap, reaching out to pick up the sandwich.

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but he wolfed down his food within a minute, that sandwich was gone within maybe three bites. The soup swallowed just as fast.

God, he was starving, and the realization made your heart ache.

"Better?" You asked gently, to which he only nodded, swallowing the last of the food in his mouth.

This became routine, the soldier stuck by your side like a duckling imprinting on its mother.

He followed you diligently around every corner of the tower, his protective instincts activated as he positioned himself like an ever-vigilant guardian. His eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, noting how others would cast uncertain and sometimes suspicious glances in his direction.

These looks made him increasingly self-conscious and anxious, as though he were some exotic creature put on display at a zoo for others to gawk at. But in your presence, he seemed a bit more at ease. He genuinely liked being around you.

Gradually, the rigid tension that had defined his existence began to melt away, and he started allowing more intimate gestures of care. He let you gently brush his unruly hair into place, carefully wash his face with warm water, or trim his growing stubble for him.

He accepted these tender ministrations without the slightest resistance or complaint, though a nagging worry lingered in your mind that his compliance stemmed from years of conditioning to submit to others' wishes. Each time you worried about that, you’d see a genuine warmth and contentment in his gaze rather than submission, showing you that he truly found comfort and pleasure in your gentle touch.

It was evening, the room reflected the warm glow of festive holiday lights emanating from a miniature Christmas tree nestled in the corner. The soldier found himself transfixed by the small decorated tree, his eyes lingering on each twinkling light as their vibrant colors danced and shimmered. The sterile, monotonous walls he had grown accustomed to during his confinement were nothing compared to the colorful lights. The gentle play of red, green, and gold seemed to awaken something long dormant within him, he almost wanted to plant himself in front of the tree and just stare at it.

Tony may have allowed his stay, but that didn’t mean there weren’t restrictions. He was stern about where and when the soldier could go anywhere with you, and he demanded that he not leave your room afterhours. It wasn’t hard to follow, the solider showed reluctance to leave your room at all, having been so accustomed to being kept in one room. You didn’t push him, but you felt bad for him because he was missing how the tower had been decorated for the holidays. So, you got a smaller tree for the bedroom to provide some kind of festive look for him to take in.

You emerged from the bathroom, wisps of steam following in your wake, your damp hair leaving little droplets on your shoulders as you continued to towel it dry with scrunches. He remained motionless on the edge of your bed, his attention immediately shifting as he turned and blinked up at your approaching figure.

His icy eyes traced a deliberate path across your form, which was barely concealed beneath the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, the hem teasingly brushing against your mid-thigh with each movement. "I am beat," you sighed heavily, your voice carrying the weight of the day's festivities. The marathon of holiday activities had clearly taken its toll, leaving you thoroughly drained. The tower often held an array of things to do because Tony loved to show off what he could afford, and it wasn’t like anyone else would object.

He observed with rapt attention as you made your way onto the bed and settled back against the pillows, releasing a deep exhale that seemed to melt away the day's tension. His unwavering gaze remained fixed on the rhythmic, hypnotic motion of your chest rising and falling with each breath.

You felt the bed shift beneath you as he moved, his weight causing the mattress to dip and creak softly. He crawled over to where you lay, his arms positioning themselves on either side of your body, caging you in. Your eyes fluttered open to find him hovering directly above you, his presence overwhelming in its proximity. This was something new…he had always maintained somewhat of a distance before, never daring to position himself so intimately over top of you.

"Я скомпрометирован. [I'm compromised]," the soldier spoke in a hushed tone, his voice carrying that distinctive gravelly pitch that made you feel tingly. The tension between you had become damned near impossible to ignore. What had started as a subtle pull had grown into an overwhelming force of attraction that seemed to draw you both together like magnets.

Still, you forced yourself to hold back, maintaining that last thread of restraint. You had no way of knowing the depth of his emotional capacity, if he was even capable of genuine feelings, or wanted to experience them at all after everything he endured.

"Soldat...?" The whispered word escaped your lips as you noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way his muscles tensed as he remained suspended above you, perfectly still. "You know I don't understand-"

"I am compromised," he repeated, switching to English this time. His voice had dropped even lower, carrying an edge of frustration that vibrated through the minimal space between your bodies.

"Comprom..." You sat up slowly on your elbows and shook your head in confusion, your brow furrowed as you tried to process his words. That’s what you’d say about a machine or computer, not a man. "What are you talking about?" Your eyes wandered downward, suddenly drawn to an unmistakable tent in his fitted briefs that became obvious from your new viewing angle, causing you to freeze in place as your breath caught in your throat.

So, he could feel things.

"Oh..." You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you remained frozen in place, your cheeks growing warm. "I think I understand now...you're feeling a bit pent up, aren't you?"

His metal arm whirred softly, the sophisticated machinery humming as he moved to adjust his hand placement. "Да. [Yes]," he responded in a low voice, his gleaming titanium fingertips delicately ghosted across the bare skin of your thigh, just barely grazing beneath the hem of your thin sleep shirt. Goosebumps erupted along your body in response to the contact, the cool metal sudden against your flushed skin.

"Мне не нравится делиться вашим вниманием. [I don't like sharing your attention]," he muttered with an undertone of possession, his lips curling into a slight frown as he gradually leaned closer to you. His silken hair delicately tickled your face as he slowly lowered himself, the tips of your noses barely grazing against each other in an intimate gesture. His lips parted ever so slightly, revealing a glimpse of anticipation before he dipped his head down, warm lips pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your jawline.

You swallowed reflexively, your breath catching in your throat as you felt his warm, steady breath caress your sensitive skin, sending a visible shudder of growing excitement through your body.

He continued his gentle exploration, encouraged by your acceptance and the absence of any resistance. He pressed a trail of soft, purposeful kisses along the curve of your jaw, each one more intimate than the last, before gradually working his way down to your neck. His lips carefully followed the rhythmic flutter of your pulse beneath your skin, his tongue peeking out shyly to touch against you.

"Ah-" You voiced softly, feeling him settle on a particularly sensitive spot, right against the delicate side of your neck. It was nestled perfectly between the graceful junction where your neck connected to your collarbone, the skin there warm and inviting, holding a faint trace of blood flow from the intricate network of smaller veins positioned just beneath the surface.

He kissed many times with increasing intensity, clearly finding this spot ideal for his attentions. The soft, tentative pecks gradually became more passionate, open-mouthed kisses as each one was placed. His tongue began gently pressing against your skin with each lingering kiss, the pressure slowly growing in need. You felt your cheeks flush with warmth when he finally latched on, your eyes widening in surprise as the soldier's strong arms held you a little tighter.

Soldat began to suckle a mark, his ministrations gentle and teasing at first, but quickly growing in force and intensity as his skilled tongue swirled expertly around the trapped skin between his lips and teeth. The sensation drew a breathy moan from deep within you, making your entire body feel as though it were engulfed in flames of desire. Though you were completely helpless beneath the assassin, you had absolutely no intention or desire to push him away.

This felt too damned good.

Without thinking, your leg came up and hooked around his hips, drawing him closer until your bodies were flush against each other. The heat between you grew and you felt his painful erection trapped in his briefs, straining against the fabric as his arousal was staining them. Soldat exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening possessively, but he did not let go.

His suckling grew increasingly intense, the sensitive skin tingling and starting to sting and burn with each passing moment. Still, he didn't release the bruised skin just yet.

Instead, he just bit down harder, ensuring the mark he left would last for days. You moaned loudly, your fingers gently tangling in his thick hair as your pleasured sounds encouraged his attention. He became more attentive when your little sounds of pleasure turned into sharp, quiet hisses - clearly indicating that the sensation had crossed from pleasure into discomfort, silently telling him to ease off.

When he did finally relent, he pulled back to admire his handiwork, looking down at the deep purple mark blooming on your neck. His breath came in heavy pants through his parted lips as he stayed quiet, watching intently as you struggled to catch your own breath too. The sight of you beneath him, disheveled and vulnerable, with flushed skin and labored breathing, was enough to draw him right back in.

He dipped back down with renewed hunger, his metal hand slowly threading through your hair before gently fisting it at the base of your skull, though his careful control ensured it wasn’t painful, just firm. He tugged just enough to guide your movement, encouraging you to expose more of your neck to his hungry gaze.

"E-easy..." You whispered, a note of anxious anticipation in your voice. You wanted more, god you wanted more, but his sudden change of behavior was a bit surprising for you.

"Понял. [Understood]," he whispered against your skin, pressing a soft kiss of reassurance to your jaw before returning his attention to your neck. Those soft kisses began again, trailing along your skin, but his restraint didn't last long as he quickly sought a new canvas for another mark. He latched onto a spot just a little bit higher on your neck, alternating between sucking and carefully controlled bites to gradually darken and bruise the sensitive flesh.

You felt bite after delicious bite, hickey after possessive hickey.

He marked the tender flesh of your neck in several deep, purple marks that bloomed like violent flowers across your skin...each one throbbing with a sweet ache when he pulled away. His tongue always swirled over the mark with care to soothe the sting of it, making you arch into his touch as you fell into a complete daze.

"S-Soldat," you muttered breathlessly, cheeks flushed crimson and eyelids heavy with desire. Your pupils matched his own - completely blown with hunger and desperate need. Those bermuda swirls meeting yours as he continued a torturously slow trail of hot kisses down your chest, nipping your collarbone with just enough pressure to make you gasp before following the gentle dip of your sternum.

He paused deliberately, pulling up so he could lift the thin sleep shirt over you and expose more of your bare chest to his hungry gaze, giving him better access for his heated kisses and teasing nips. Once your top was discarded somewhere on the floor, his hands gently but firmly held your sides, trailing up with reverent touches until settling against your ribcage. His larger hands completely encompassed your torso, making you feel small but protected.

The soldier was absolutely transfixed at the sight of your breasts, eyeing the soft mounds and peaked nipples as they hardened in the cool air, growing increasingly sensitive and rosy with your mounting arousal. It was like he was completely mesmerized by the sight before him, the fucking Winter Soldier, the most dangerous assassin in history, stopped dead in his tracks at the mere sight of your bare breasts.

You felt in charge now.

"What is it? Do you like them?" you purred softly to the soldier, your body swaying in a deliberately teasing motion that made them gently move. His eyes remained fixed, drinking in the sight before him as his lips parted ever so slightly. Slowly, his head tilted down again, surrendering to the moment. He let his face nestle against your chest, his lips trailing a constellation of unhurried kisses across your skin.

He began to nip and suckle the tender skin of your breasts, his mouth working to create deep, purple love bites on that delicate flesh. The bruising blossomed easily beneath his ministrations, almost like they were eager to show themselves.

His lips would find a promising spot, then he would begin lapping at the skin with gentle strokes of his tongue until he felt you squirming. The soldier took the sensitized flesh carefully between his teeth, rolling the captured skin while his talented muscle swirled and sucked.

Your chest displayed his passionate handiwork when he finally drew back to admire his creation. The plum-colored bruises created an intimate pattern across your skin, their rich hues made even more striking by the soft glow of the holiday lights that danced through the room, highlighting each carefully placed love bite until they seemed to shimmer like twilight stars against your flesh.

"Soldat...I think you covered enough surface area," you breathed, feeling overwhelmed by the intense throbbing that radiated from each mark he'd left. The sensation pulsed in waves across your skin, making it difficult to focus. Your neck was thoroughly covered in the passionate marks, and now your chest bore an equally impressive collection.

The soldier gazed down at you with intensely, his eyes taking in each little sugar plum bruise that decorated your skin like a masterpiece. Though they were scattered without any deliberate pattern, the overall effect clearly pleased him. You lay there looking thoroughly affected by his attention, hair mussed and breathing uneven, cheeks beautifully darkened with a dust of blush, just from his careful application of bites alone. The sight of you in such a state, marked so thoroughly, brought deep set satisfaction in his gut.

"Моя теперь. [Mine now]," he muttered softly, his warm breath ghosting across your skin as his lips hovered mere millimeters from your own. The almost-kiss was delicate, just the faintest brush of contact that sent electricity dancing through your nerves. He almost seemed nervous to close that final distance, his confidence faltering despite the passionate trail of marks he had already left scattered across your skin.

He drew back slightly, seemingly snapping out of a trance, and you could see the vulnerability written plainly across his features as that nervousness flickered in his eyes. Shifting his weight, he settled back onto the bed, his right hand finding your knee and tracing gentle, soothing circles there with his thumb. The tender gesture matched his hushed voice as he spoke, "Я не хочу идти дальше. [I don't want to go any further]," the words carrying both certainty and a hint of apology.

Your brow furrowed deeply as you struggled to understand what he was trying to stay, the confusion evident in the slight crease between your eyebrows and the questioning tilt of your head. You really needed to study Russian. "Do you not want to continue?" you asked slowly and carefully, focusing more on interpreting the subtle nuances in his tone rather than trying to parse the exact words he was using.

His facial expression held hesitance and uncertainty, the slight downturn of his lips and the way his eyes wouldn't quite meet yours telling you what you needed to know. Body language was his primary mode of genuine communication, and you had become very good at reading these silent signals he unconsciously broadcast.

"It's okay, we can stop," you replied with a reassuring tone, making sure to keep your voice soft to help dissipate any lingering tension he might be feeling. "Let's just lay here, okay? We can cuddle without any kind of pressure to do anything else, if you want." You offered with a warm smile, wanting him to feel that his comfort and boundaries were completely respected and that there was no expectation or obligation to continue.

This was a lot of good progress with him, you typically just cuddled or he kept to his side of the bed but he had shown you a lot of sweet affection tonight, and you loved it, it meant he was growing more confident in himself and your relationship. The evidence of his passionate yet tender attention remained visible in the form of gentle, plum-colored marks that decorated your neck and chest as you lay beside him, watching as his silent form trembled slightly beneath the heavy warmth of the thick blankets that enveloped you both.

You opened your arms, offering him a warmer space, and he quickly scooted forward, tucking himself against you. Prone to being cold, he liked being under many layers of blankets, so you made sure to provide plenty for him to not only feel warm but secure. Plus...having you to hold him always helped.

Without the worry of being a soldier, he could rest easy like this.

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x you #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader smut #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes smut #emwrites🌿

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fastandcarlos · 4 months ago

Text

"She's In Labour...Now?" : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: it wasn't supposed to happen yet, especially with max preparing for a race...

Your body froze, hand coming down to the side of your bump as yet again you felt a stab of pain against your side, struggling to keep yourself balanced. A heavy breath came from you as Sophie’s eyes glanced to your side, immediately moving closer to you.

Your eyes shut in horror as another twang of pain arrived, leaning against anything that you could find to try and support yourself. Sophie’s hand landed on your back as she watched you, her eyes full of concern.

“Everything alright?” She asked, although she already knew the answer to the question. “You don’t think you’re going into labour...do you?”

Your shoulders shrugged, feeling your heart begin to race. “I don’t know, I hope not, Max is about to race any second and I need to be there to watch him.”

Sophie’s head shook as you spoke, knowing that Max didn’t need to be your priority right now. Before you could argue she had a member of Max’s team rushing around the garage to try and find you, not giving you the chance to protest and assure her that you were fine.

In a matter of moments Max’s figure came sprinting through the garage, his eyes searching for you. Sophie waved over to him, standing to one side as soon as Max arrived at your side, his arm moving around you to try and support you.

“Is it happening?” Max nervously asked, looking between you and his mum.

Just like his Mum, Max didn’t need an answer, already being able to tell for himself. As you went through another stab of pain you grabbed on tightly to Max, letting go of a groan. Max quickly moved to hold you tighter, keeping you against his chest.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, kissing against the top of your head. “I’m right here with you, I’m not going anywhere,” he added, feeling your eyes glance up at him.

Your head shook as you tried to step away from Max, but he was far too strong. He kept his hold despite how hard you tried to wriggle out, quickly remembering where you were and what he was supposed to be doing.

“You can’t be here,” you murmured, “you need to be getting ready to race, you’re on pole, you can’t lose such valuable points Max.”

“Do you really think I’d leave you right now, like this?” He asked you.

You immediately felt guilty as Max asked a member of the team to come over, informing them to pass onto Christian that the reserve driver would need to step in for the race.

“The team aren’t going to be happy,” one of the PR team told him in reply, scratching over the top of their head, “but I guess given the circumstances they’re just going to have to deal with it. We’ll put out a statement and tell everyone that you’re feeling unwell as the reason you’re not there.”

You looked to Max once more, eyes pleading with him. “We don’t know for sure whether I’m in labour yet, why don’t you at least race? It’s only a couple of hours, I’ll be alright.”

He didn’t even bother listening to you, his mind was well and truly made up and you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. Max didn’t want to miss a thing, and he certainly didn’t want to not be by your side whilst you were in pain too, regardless of whether you were in labour or not.

Everyone else went to carry on prepping for the race, with you and Max left alone after his mum told you that she’d head off to go and get your things. “I’m not willing to risk anything,” Max whispered, holding onto you as you began to walk over to the car park. “We’re going to the hospital whether you like it or not, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

You smiled weakly across at Max; his eyes filled with concern. “I’m not due for another three weeks Max, let’s just wait and see how the next hour goes, it might be nothing.”

“But it could be something,” he corrected, still full of worry. Max was proven to be right as after taking a couple of steps you felt a pain that you couldn’t describe course over your bump, leaving you doubled over, biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself screaming.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, relying on Max to keep you from falling. Your eyes screwed tightly shut, breathing as well as you could to try and ride out the pain. It took a few moments, but just as it passed, another stabbing pain hit your bump.

Call it father’s instincts, but Max knew in that moment what was happening. He called for his car to be brought over as soon as it could be, wrapping his arms around you so that he could carry you, doing anything that he could to make life a little easier for you.

Your arms wrapped around Max’s neck, allowing him to scoop you up. “Turns out, you might’ve been right,” you joked, feeling Max’s eyes glance down at you, as if he knew all along.

“It’s not about being right or wrong, it’s about getting you to hospital now.”

The car barely stopped before Max opened the passenger door and sat you in, buckling your belt. The valet passed him the keys as his mum arrived, passing your bags over to Max before shouting that she’d catch you up. Max quickly climbed into the car, putting his foot on the accelerator as fast as he could.

“Turns out I’m in a different race now, the race with all this traffic.”

“I’d like to get to the hospital in one piece,” you laughed, struggling to get yourself comfortable in your seat as Max drove as quickly as he could, weaving around the cars on the road that were queueing to get into the paddock and see the race, “and I think our child would also vouch for that too.”

“I’m not driving like a maniac,” Max told you, but even he was a little doubtful. “Well, maybe I am a tad, but I think I can be forgiven considering the circumstances.”

His eyes were only half on the road, with Max watching over to you too every time a contraction greeted you. Each one made his heart race, filled with him with nerves as you assured him that you were alright, even though you were far from it.

It wasn’t exactly how you planned your day, ready to sit and relax whilst watching Max, struggling to believe what was about to happen.

“I'm so proud of you,” Max whispered as he noticed you staring out of the window. "I don’t quite know what’s about to happen, and if I’m honest, I’m terrified, but one thing I know is that I’m going to be so in awe of you.”

You smiled weakly back across at Max, “however scared you’re feeling right now, double it and you might feel as scared as I do. But the one thing that I know is that you’re there for me, so that means I’m going to be alright.”

“I won’t let anything bad happen,” Max promised you, matching your smile. “I’m not going to leave you alone for a second, no matter what it takes.”

Neither of you quite knew how the next few hours were going to unfold, but as a team, you knew you were going to be alright. The race was soon forgotten as the two of you looked to the future and the thrill of knowing that your first meeting with your daughter was right around the corner.

“Can you believe we’re about to be parents?” Max smiled across at you.

“I don’t think it’ll ever truly sink in.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

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hi, my love! i hope you’re doing okay!

i’d be really interested to see the protectiveness of the marauders and how it plays out in a poly!marauders dynamic. say something happens to r (can be as minor or as severe as you prefer). how would each marauder react and how would their dynamics bounce off each other? would it make the situation better or worse?

I find it funny picturing r attempting to wrangle all three of her boys from throwing hands (especially if it was a mistake or a miscommunication between r and the “offender”) and they’re bouncing off each other and riling themselves up more and she’s just like, ffs I’m so sorry and tries her best to manhandle her three boyfriends away for a stern talking to. Like, thank you guys for protecting me and all that but a) t’was a mistake / miscommunication, and b) i can sort my own shit and will ask if i need back up (Sirius in the back like no need to ask, i’m ready to go bby). Everyone’s like wtf Remus?! because he’s usually the chill one and it’s just a cluserfuck of misplaced angst and fluffy humour.

this might overlap with some other requests you’ve written, so feel free to ignore or tweak as you see fit! no idea if this makes any sense but hope it’s fun to write if you decide to!

Hi lovely! I've done a couple fics with protective marauders before, so I wanted to try something a little different based on your prompt. I had a different vision in my head than how it turned out, but I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, sexual assault, violence

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You’ve been known to be a…somewhat short-fused drunk. It’s not that you’ll get angry with anyone for anything, only that the sort of behavior that you might normally try to ignore, you…don’t. This is usually the behavior of men.

It’s one of those nights where the club is made up of about forty percent young girls and sixty percent older, eagle-eyed men. You’re glad for your boyfriends, who ward off the other men like a force field around you. You feel lucky to have it and disgusted to need it.

James’ laughter is loud and bright as you spin him around after he does you. You echo it, pleased at having inspired such a sound. With his large, sturdy build, it’s rare for James to get very drunk, but he’s about where you are now. Which is to say, you’ve been sloppily dancing and giggling with each other for the last hour.

Remus rolls his eyes fondly when James nearly spins himself out of balance, steadying him with a hand on his back.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Sirius shouts.

James laughs again, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Classy, babe.”

“Bugger off.” Sirius shoves him playfully into Remus’ chest.

You dance with them both for a minute longer before leaning in to shout, “Okay if I go get more drinks?”

Remus eyes you both for a second, but nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”

“No, stay.” You set a hand on his chest. “Don’t let Jamie dance alone. I’ll be right back, yeah?”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you head for the bar. It’s crowded, but you’re not about to worm between some middle-aged men to get to the front. You stand up on your toes and wait to catch the bartender’s eye.

“What’s your name?” Suddenly there’s a warm body pressed up behind yours, hands on your hips.

Your blood, already warmed by alcohol, turns hot in an instant. You step forward, too quick for the man behind you to follow. Turn to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” you say firmly.

“Okay.” The man raises his eyebrows at you. He looks nearly old enough to be your father—certainly old enough to be someone’s father—with waxy skin and thinning hair combed over the front of his head. He’s in a suit like he came here from work. “Sorry, relax. I just think you’re beautiful.”

“I’m here with someone.” Someones, you could say, but you’ve learned it’s easier in some situations to make it sound like you only have one partner, for brevity’s sake. And there’s nothing you desire more than for this interaction to be brief.

He gives a little laugh. “Don’t take things so seriously, I’m only complimenting you. Do you like to dance?”

You give him a hard look. “Only with my boyfriend.”

“You look like you dance.” His eyes skim down your frame, raptorial. “I can tell. You have the body for it.”

No sooner does his large, meaty hand connect with your ass than you’re grabbing it by the wrist, your free hand balling and aiming for his face.

His surprised grunt comes in sync with a “Woah!” from behind you.

You turn to find Remus and James, looking like they’ve just broken through the crowd. James is staring at you with wide eyes. One of the men near you at the bar sets a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from the creep and forcing you to drop his wrist, but Remus is there in an instant.

“Oi.” He grabs you, removing the man’s hand and caging you in his arms. “She’s fine.”

“She hit him!” the man accuses. The guy from before is leaning forward with a hand pressed over his face.

James is incredulous. “Did you see what he did to her?”

The other man looks between you like he’s realized he’s missing something, and Remus takes a couple of steps back from the crowd with you in his arms. Meanwhile, your attacker seems to be recovering from his shock. He lowers his hand to reveal a discolored mark on his jaw, gaping at you.

“You fucking cunt!”

James gives him a hard shove, and more shouting starts up around the bar, various other patrons either cheering the fight on or trying to break it up. Remus grabs James by his shirt, tugging him along as he herds you towards the exit. “Alright, we’re going, we’re going.”

Your journey out of the building is hurried and difficult to follow in your addled state, but everything seems to catch up to you when the dark club gives way to glaring fluorescent streetlights. You bend over under a wave of nausea.

“Hey.” James sounds more sober than he had a few minutes ago. He stoops to look at you, your eyes wet. “You okay?”

Remus says something to him quietly, passing James the car keys. He unwinds his arm from around you and kisses your head.

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently. “Go wait in the car, okay?”

“Okay…” Your voice is hardly a whimper. “Where are you going?”

But Remus is already gone, waving down the bouncer outside of the club.

You turn to James. “Where is he going?”

Tears blink out of your eyes as you ask. The corners of James’ mouth turn down sympathetically.

“Oh, my girl.” He wraps a big arm around your shoulders, kissing your head as he leads you towards the car. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?”

You shake your head, though it does a little. Your knuckles and the tops of your fingers feel odd and sore, and there’s a throbbing that goes all the way down to your wrist. That’s not what’s bothering you, though. You’re not sure if you can pick what’s bothering you. The predatory stares you’ve endured all night; the sickening realization of the man’s body pressed up against yours; his easy, blithe laughter; your own white-hot anger, there and gone before you could take account of yourself—it’s all too much.

“I can’t believe I hit him,” you admit tearfully.

James lets out a little laugh. “I saw, baby.” He unlocks the car, opening the back door.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I—oh, okay.” James doesn’t stop you when you don’t get in, instead sitting on the floor of the car with your feet on the gravel parking lot. He sits beside you. “It’s okay if you did. He deserved it.”

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t hit people.”

He makes a soft sound. A big hand lands between your shoulder blades, rubbing softly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s…I get that you wouldn’t usually, but I think this counts as a special circumstance. Rem, he saw what was happening, but we couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you know?”

You don’t reply, and he lets you sit in silence for a while, your weeping gradually stopping. When Remus comes back, it’s with Sirius in tow.

“What the fuck happened?” Sirius asks tipsily. “I was looking for you!”

“Did Remus not tell you?” James sounds excited to be the one to share the news.

“Alright, dove?” Remus asks at a more reasonable volume, crouching in front of you. “Does your hand hurt? Can I see?”

“No, he’s being bloody tight-lipped.” Sirius ruffles Remus’ hair. “Just said you had to go. Oi, you alright, lovely?”

“She punched a guy in the face,” James says proudly.

“She what?” Sirius’ mouth pops open. You shrink some under his gaze. “Baby, you what?”

“I didn’t mean to!” you insist, though it’s hard to stay miserable when two of your boyfriends look so obviously delighted.

Sirius shakes his head, awestruck. “What did I miss?”

James fills him in quickly while Remus prods at your hand, eventually commending you on a rather clean hit after he’s certain you didn’t break anything. Sirius can hardly keep his mouth shut while James talks, nor can James keep from using a series of vulgar names for the man who’d touched you, though he checks on you a couple of times to be sure his storytelling isn’t upsetting you. When he’s done, Sirius’ stare has darkened, his arms crossing as he leans against the side of the car.

“Do we think he could perhaps use a matching bruise on the other side?” he muses, gaze flicking to the entrance of the club. “Maybe one of you could point him out to me.”

“You’ll get to see him soon,” says Remus. You look at him questioningly, but he only gives you a small smile. Cryptic.

“Really, she’s already handled it rather well herself.” James slides his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head. “You should have seen it, I had no idea she could punch like that.”

“Me neither,” you sigh.

Just then, the door to the club bangs open. Two bouncers come out in their uniform black tees, hauling between them another man.

“Alright, alright, leave off!” The creep from earlier struggles in their grasp. All three of your boyfriends tense. As he comes through the doorway, his discolored jaw catches the light.

Sirius whistles. “Shit. That is bloody gorgeous.”

You feel the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips, but try to remain contrite. You catch Remus’ eye.

“It was pretty impressive,” he says, also smiling.

You chew your lip. “You don’t think it was wrong?”

“What’s wrong about it?” Sirius asks. “He touched you, you touched him. I’d have done the same if I were there.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “We know, love.”

“I’m just saying, I could make it symmetrical…”

“No,” Remus says sternly. He helps you up, ushering you into the backseat. “It’s time to go home.”

James buckles in beside you while Remus gets into the driver’s seat. Sirius lingers outside the car.

“He’s not gotten far yet, are we sure…”

“Aw, baby, does your hand hurt?” James asks loudly.

Sirius turns, crawling in to get a look. “Shit, did you bruise something? How’d you make a fist?”

James reaches across him to shut the door, and Remus drives away.

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yungistiny · 23 days ago

Text

camgirl ═ chapter one

[ S. Mingi ]

chapter one: a bit of a mess

╚═════════

summary: mingi just really needs some cash and he was told all he had to do was hold a camera. simple enough. he just didn’t anticipate the type of content he’d be helping to create

warning: emo mingi, stoner mingi, switch mingi, switch reader, mingi is hung, creampie, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, masturbation, rough sex, degradation, size kink, spitting, deep throating

pairing: mingi x afab/reader

genre: smut, angst, drama, romance

word count: 3.9k

chapter two

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Mingi knew he was getting too deep into this shit, getting too attached. Too emotionally involved. His jaw clenched, there was no livestream now. No viewers. No one watching.

It was just them, alone in his room. His bedroom door actually shut for a change as he trailed a hand up y/n back, tangling his fingers into her hair.

She moaned, gasping as he pulled her up, back flushed against his chest, a hand snaking around her and wrapping around her throat, gently squeezing. Mingi growled, his grip on her tilting her head back so he could kiss her, his other hand gripping her waist tightly as he continued to thrust into her aching, soaked cunt.

Her walls clenching him, her arousal creaming him and Mingi couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him because fuck if she wasn’t the best thing he’d ever had.

“Look at me.” The words left him with no control, making y/n open her eyes, pupils blown as they began to water from his deep and quick pace thrusts, dick finding that spongey little spot that sent her shaking in his hold.

Mingi held her gaze, his own eyes much like hers, darkened and pupils blown from desire. “You’re mine.” A loud, crying moan left y/n as her orgasm tore through her like a storm. “I’m yours!” She repeated the words like a broken record left on a loop.

“I’m yours…”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Mingi stared at the small piece of paper in his hand, his banking account balance practically mocking him. Just a little over 10, 000 won left in his account. That was barely enough for a bowl of ramen and a drink.

He was starting to slightly regret spending his savings on that Bring Me The Horizon concert. But the chances of them coming to South Korea was low so of course he had to jump at the opportunity to see one of his favorite bands.

The slight chill in the September air caused Mingi to shiver, balling the atm receipt up and shoving it into the pocket of his ripped baggy jeans. His roommate and about the closest thing he had to a best friend, Choi San, was gonna scold him. Remind him how he had distinctly told Mingi not to waste his money on a concert.

Mingi never listened to San.

He ran a hand through his short fading pink hair, the color now a light pastel compared to the hot pink it had been when he first dyed it, his dark roots bleeding through. Mingi knew if he really needed money all he had to do was call his mom, his dad would certainly not be too giving or lenient after he had to pay a good whopping 2.8 million won to pay for damages caused by him at a hotel in Busan.

The Busan incident was now something his dad always brought up when Mingi needed to borrow some money.

“You know son, I would have the money but instead, I had to pay for a brand new window that you and your idiotic friends broke by tossing a mattress out of it.”

It’s not Mingi’s fault that Lee Seokmin and Hoshi Kwan were fucking absolutely crazy when high. He doesn’t even recall what exactly led up to Hoshi pulling the giant king sized mattress, pushing it full speed towards Seokmin who screamed and jumped out of the way.

Mingi promised his dad he’d pay him back, the hotel room had been in his name so of course Mingi was left with the bill. And he really did mean to pay his dad back but then he splurged his savings on dying his hair, he also got a new phone and the rest was spent on that concert.

It wouldn’t be so bad but Mingi’s boss fired him today after he was late, the third job he’d been fired from in the last two months. He just couldn’t keep a job to save his own life and was sure at this point he was going to be stuck going back home and working under his dad at the family restaurant.

Warmth enveloped him as he walked inside the convenience store just a block away from his apartment building. The heat was like a warming blanket against the chill outside.

Mingi grabbed a cup of ice from the small freezer in the front, hand crunching the ice up as he searched for a drink, grabbing a packet of green apple flavored juice. One finger pointed, the black nail polish chipping, searching for a bowl of ramen and snatching a spicy buldak.

He also grabbed a couple of cheese sticks before making his way up to the register where one of his old college friends Jung Wooyoung waited, eyes on his phone before glancing at Mingi when he dropped his stuff on the counter.

“You look all broody today.” Wooyoung teased him as he scanned his items. “I got fired again.” Mingi bit at his bottom lip, pushing his black rimmed glasses up his nose, poking the inside of his cheek, his tongue piercing rubbing against it. “Dude,” Wooyoung laughed. “you’re like job repellent.”

“Fuck you.” Mingi grumbled, unlocking his phone and going into his wallet to display his debit card. “Time and place.” Wooyoung smirked at him as Mingi tapped to pay, just enough in his account for the junk food.

“You know,” Wooyoung watched him walk over to the little snack station, filling his bowl of ramen up with water and putting it into the microwave. “I think I know the perfect job for you.”

“Oh really?” Mingi scoffed as he pulled the seal off of his cup of ice, tearing open the drink pouch with his teeth. “Last time you said that i was left stranded in Busan with your two crazy ass friends and now I’m in debt with my dad.”

“That was like three months ago.” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “This, this you’re perfect for.”

“What is it?” Mingi grabbed his cooked bowl of ramen out of the microwave, snatching a pair of wooden chopsticks from the container beside it, mixing the red sauce into the noodles and pulling his chopsticks apart with his teeth to help stir.

“My friend,” Wooyoung leaned atop the counter, to see Mingi where he sat at the small little dining area in front of the window. “she needs help, someone to be behind the camera for this streaming thing she does.”

“What? Like twitch?” Mingi peeled the sealing off of his cheese stick, pulling them apart and mixing them into his bowl of noodles. “Something like that.” Smirked Wooyoung.

“So… what,” Mingi took a sip of his drink, arching a brow at Wooyoung as another customer walked in, disappearing into the store to shop for their own needs and cravings. “I just hold the camera for her? I thought streamers had stands for that?”

“Well… what she streams she needs some….” Wooyoung giggled. “close ups, different angles.”

Mingi waited, taking a bite of his noodles as Wooyoung checked out the customer, waiting until after they left to ask the most important question. “What’s she pay?”

“Well, when I helped her a few times…” Wooyoung thought for a moment, calculating in his head. “For about one session… 700,000 won.”

Mingi choked on the cheese stick he started to chew on, gasping and quickly removing the lid on his drink and chugging to help wash the food down. 700,000 won? That was like $500 usd! “All that? Just to hold a fucking camera?”

“Well, there’s a bit more to it then just that, but yeah, that’s about the gist of it.” Wooyoung nodded, looking back down at his phone. “I’ll text her, let her know I found her someone.”

“I haven’t even agreed yet…” Mingi took another drink of his juice, a cough escaping him after almost choking on his food. “Yes you are.” Wooyoung grinned at him. “I’ll text you her address when she lets me know when she needs you.”

“And she’s just gonna let a stranger into her home to film her?” Mingi asked, not denying the fact that Wooyoung was right. There’s no way in hell he was passing this opportunity up.

“She trusts me and I trust you.” Wooyoung shrugged, sitting his phone back down. “It’s not like I’m sending her some random creepy dude or anything.”

“Have I met her before?” Mingi was curious now, he was sure him and Wooyoung hung around the same friend group. “No. I met her that summer after freshman year when I went to New York. Her grandparents are from here and she came back a couple years ago to take care of her grandma before she passed.”

A ping from Wooyoung’s phone alerted them that he had a new message. Mingi watched him typing a reply, a devious smirk on Wooyoung’s face. “You can go by her place tomorrow night, she said around 6:00. I’m texting you the address now.”

Mingi unlocked his phone, checking his messages, eyes widening in shock at the address location. “She lives in the Gangnam district?”

“Her grandma left her this nice ass duplex.” Wooyoung giggled at Mingi’s reaction. “So she’s like…. rich?” Mingi looked back down at the address on his phone. “What’s her name?”

Wooyoung had to hold in the snicker that wanted to leave him, the smirk on his face growing because Mingi had no idea what he was getting himself into but Wooyoung knew his friend was perfect for the job.

“Y/N.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

San wasn’t home when Mingi walked into their shared apartment, quickly feeding San’s pet cat, Byeol, before grabbing his stash from under his bed in his room and flopping himself on the couch, feet propped on the coffee table as he rolled himself a blunt.

The tv played a playlist of 2000s rock music videos, a Linkin Park one coming on as he brought the blunt to his lips, inhaling and closing his eyes as the smoke exhaled through his nose.

Byeol curled into Mingi’s lap, the cat purring and snuggling up to sleep. The weed was slowly loosening his mind, relaxing him at the moment as a Three Days Grace music video started to play, he had no care in the world.

Mingi used one hand to thread through the fur and pet Byeol, his chunky steel rings scratching at the cats back making her purr more. The blunt in his other hand burned for a second as he got distracted by the music video on the tv before taking another hit.

Mingi had no idea how long he sat there, too high to care, when the apartment door opened, San finally home after work, a long day spent with kindergartners but San loved kids.

“You’re home early.” San arched a brow at Mingi, he usually didn’t get home after work until after 8:00 and it was only a little after 5:00.

Mingi stared at him for a long moment, eyes red and half lidded letting San know he was high. “I got fired.”

The heaviest sigh left San as he sat down next to Mingi on the couch, shoving his feet off the coffee table. Byeol perked up at her owner, stretching in Mingi’s lap and meowing at San, switching seats and making herself comfortable in his lap instead. “Again?”

“It’s fine,” Mingi waved a hand dismissively. “I already got another job.”

“That was fast.” San scratched Byeol behind her ear. “What is it this time?”

“One of Wooyoung’s friends.” Mingi answered, rolling another blunt. At this rate he was gonna smoke all his weed up before he had more cash.

“You know what happened last time you worked with Wooyoung’s friends.” San reminded, Mingi was never living the Busan incident down. “This is different.” He argued as San turned the tv down.

“Which friend is it this time?” San was curious, he knew all of Wooyoung’s friends just like Mingi did. “I haven’t met her yet.” Mingi shrugged, licking the wrap of the blunt to seal it.

“Her?” San picked Byeol up, holding her closely. He was tired and needed a hot shower. “Just don’t sleep with her.” It’s why Mingi had been fired from his last job, sleeping with the boss’s daughter, while on the clock mind you.

San loved his best friend, practically his brother, but Mingi had become a little bit of a mess and irresponsible after they graduated from college three years ago.

Mingi smirked as he brought the blunt to his lips. “Of course not.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

It was well past noon when Mingi woke up the next day. His eyes blinked slowly, Byeol staring at him where she had made herself home on his bed once San had left for work that morning. Mingi always left his bedroom door open for the needy cat.

A deep groan left him as he turned over onto his back, stretching his arms and legs. His phone lay on his bedside table, the screen lighting up as he unlocked it. Mingi was going to have to do something he was dreading. Ask his mom for money. Sure he started his new job today but he literally had no money to his name at the moment.

The call rang twice before his mother answered. “Mingi, honey, make it quick because the restaurant is starting to get busy.” She sounded in a hurry and he could hear the clutter of dishes and his older brother’s voice in the background.

He hesitated before asking. “Omma,” Mingi put on his best pouty voice, knowing his mom couldn’t say no to him. “I’m starting a new job today but I’m all out of cash until I get paid.”

“If your father finds out I sent you more money he just might cut you off this time.” She warned him, not saying no though. “He won’t find out and give me a week or so and he’ll have every bit of his money back.” Mingi promised. First thing he was going to do was get his dad off his back.

His mother gave in, telling him she’ll transfer him some money on her break. Mingi still had almost five hours before he had to meet y/n. He found himself the night before on twitch searching for any streamers named y/n but found hundreds of results and instantly gave up.

The next five hours started with a hot shower and then dressing in his favorite dark washed ripped baggy jeans and a black long sleeved Jesus Piece shirt. His hair air dryed, slightly spiked from where it was growing out.

Mingi even repainted his chipping polished nails back black. He smoked about three blunts, he kind of lost count, and headed out to check his bank account balance once his mom texted him that she transferred the money.

Just a little over 300,000 won. Mingi looked at his phone seeing the time and cursed to himself. He needed to be over to y/n in Gangnam in twenty minutes.

He quickly flagged down a taxi. The ride to Gangnam took longer then Mingi hoped it would, quickly paying the driver and hopping out right outside of the duplex y/n lived at. It was pretty, colored a light eggshell, flowers grew in the yard already wilting from the September weather.

Mingi rang the doorbell, waiting with his hands in his pockets. He could hear shuffling inside then the unlocking of a lock before the mahogany door opened.

Fuck.

Wooyoung didn’t think to mention just how hot his friend was. Y/N was shorter then him like most were, knee high white socks on that were fully visible due to the pink Calvin Klein boyshorts she had on paired with a cropped pink Mean Girls tshirt that gave Mingi the perfect view of her stomach and legs. Did he catch her at a bad time? But she said be here at 6:00…

“You must be Mingi.” She smiled at him, her gaze taking him in, lingering from his face taking in the entire length of him. Mingi smirked at her wondering eyes as he was doing the exact same thing to her. He placed each of his hands on the entrance of the door, leaning in slightly, looking down at her. “And you’re y/n.”

Fuck his voice was deep. Y/N clenched her thighs, his entire appearance and demeanor was attractive. And he was tall, really fucking tall. Wooyoung didn’t think to mention to her how hot his friend was?

“Come in!” She shook her head, returning her gaze back to his smirking face, stepping out of the way to allow Mingi room to walk in. Fuck! He smelled really good too. Like faint notes of amber, a smooth sweetness she couldn’t exactly decipher and y/n could tell he must of gotten high before coming over from the undertone scent of weed mixed in.

She shut the front door back closed and locked it behind him. Mingi allowed his gaze to roam around the living room as he kicked off his combat boots, the white painted walls lit by fairy lights that decorated the top of them, wrapping around the entire room. A three seated white couch with a fluffy pink throw blanket draped over it was placed against the wall where a big black cat, with probably the biggest mane Mingi had ever seen, sat licking and cleaning itself.

Mingi looked back at y/n not realizing she was right beside him. Her scent invaded his own senses. A mixture of strawberry, vanilla and sugar. He had the urge to drop to his knees and beg her to let him have a taste. He didn’t of course. He couldn’t. This was business, he was just there to work for her. But damn if he weren’t gonna be tempted.

“That’s Gladiolus,” y/n walked over, picking up the giant cat. She held him in her arms like a small toddler. “he’s not really a people person kitty though….”

Y/N trailed off, shocked when her otherwise antisocial cat started to purr as Mingi scratched under his chin. “I guess he likes you though, magic touch.” She teased him.

Mingi smirked, noticing the way her gaze lingered on his hands. “Oh, yeah. Pussys love me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, face flushed. She was going to kill Wooyoung for sending her someone he knew she’d be attracted to. Wooyoung was the closest she had to a best friend and he knew exactly her type. He’s a menace.

Gladiolus stretched when y/n placed him back on the couch. “Come on, everything is upstairs.” She led Mingi up the small staircase upstairs to her bedroom.

Mingi took in the white painted walls, the queen sized bed centered by the headboard against the wall in the middle of the room, a mirror on the wall it sat against, another mirror, a floor length one against the wall to the right, a large computer and streaming set up on the opposite end of the bed against the other wall.

White fairy lights wrapped around the entire room much like the living room, fake green leaves and pastel pink roses adorned the decor with them. She likes pink. Mingi bit his lip, humored at the coincidence of the color of his hair that was practically the same color as the rug at the foot of the bed he was standing on.

Y/N watched him, gaze following his hands, loving the way his nails were painted black. Loved the rings on his fingers as he rolled up his sleeves, revealing the bracelets on his wrists. The beaded ones matched the beaded choker necklace he had on with the silver chain dangling with a small cross pendant.

She watched the way he darted his tongue out, wetting his lips and giving her the perfect glance at his tongue piercing. Y/N avoided her gaze from him before he noticed her staring, unbeknownst to her, he already had. “Did Wooyoung explain anything to you?” Her best friend loved to mess with people, she knew that, it’s why Boo Seungkwan didn’t last one stream with her. The poor guy had been flustered and a mumbling mess the entire time.

“You’re a streamer.” Mingi shrugged, pushing his glasss back up the bridge of his nose. “Did he tell you what kind of streamer?” Y/N was trying not to laugh now at the confused expression on Mingi’s face.

She noticed then the little lightning bolt like design shaved into the end of his right eyebrow as he arched it. He watched as she smirked at him, her glossy lips very tempting. “I’m guessing it’s not twitch?”

The laugh that left her caught Mingi off guard. “Is that what Wooyoung told you?” Of course he would. He once told her he likes to watch the stream whenever she gets a new cameraman, all ended up nervous, shy or just got too horny to finish.

Mingi looked around her room, eyes searching for anything that would give him a clue as to what it was she streamed but nothing seemed out of the ordinary or stood out too much.

“Let me give you a hint…” y/n walked over to a pink painted two door wall cabinet, opening the door and gesturing for Mingi to come and look at what was inside.

Mingi walked over, towering behind y/n as he studied what was there. It took him a minute to register it all but when he did, Mingi wasn’t sure if he wanted to kill Wooyoung or thank him for getting him this job.

Definitely the latter.

“And…. you’re just gonna let me film you, live, while you get yourself off?” Mingi’s voice was deeper now, he couldn’t control it with the images flashing in his head, his imagination suddenly getting the best of him.

“Wooyoung trust you…” y/n didn’t look behind her, she didn’t move as he brushed up against her briefly, his height making her feel small. “and I trust Wooyoung.”

Mingi backed up, biting his bottom lip and letting out a quiet disbelieving chuckle. “So, I just…. hold the camera?” He was curious now what exactly all it was he was gonna be required to do.

“Basically.” Y/N turned to him, walking over to her camera that sat on her desk beside the computer. “But… I need you to move with me…” she grabbed the camera, handing it to Mingi, looking up and meeting his heated gaze behind his glasses.

Mingi was glad he was high as hell right now, his senses calm, his emotions centered otherwise he’d probably kiss her, tangle his ringed fingers into her hair and pin her against the wall.

This job might end up being a tad difficult.

“How many cameramen have you had?” Mingi was curious, obviously the last one didn’t make it and he knew Wooyoung had helped her out a few times.

“Just a handful, all sent by Woo but…” she pouted at him, looking up through her lashes, voice teasing. “none of them ever last.”

Mingi took the camera into his hand, gripping it and smirking down at y/n. “If there’s one thing I’m great at…”

His voice was so much deeper now, practically rumbling as he stepped back, gesturing towards the pink wall cabinet she had showed him before, letting her know he was ready to get started when she was.

“is letting a woman come first.”

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permanent tag list: @straycat420 @dejatiny @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @hannahlilibet411

#mingi #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi x y/n #ateez #ateez fic #ateez fanfic

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the-tarot-witch22 · 3 months ago

Text

Your Next Glow Up! - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post | Giveaway

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 3 of cups, 7 of wands, and page of cups)

Okay so the very first thing i feel and heard is celebration and wedding/engagement or just something celebratory, that's when you will get a glow up, I also feel when the glow up happens, you will be so happy and content with in your life, for some of you it could be graduation too, I also feel as much as you had like to glow up physically for you guys i see emotional glow up, physically yes, but the way you will glow up "mentally and emotionally" is just amazing, I also feel some of you could be recovering from working very hard, which has left you certainly drained and very much crushed, but i see it getting better, I feel you will get a chance to relax, and not be productive and being in your own energy, so I had say you will know so take that chance, I also feel there might be a new crush/love interest which will help you glow up, you know when you are in love you just glow naturally that type of thing, and i also see you putting effort not only in your appearance, but inner conflicts too, it won't be at all superficial but much more deeper, and it will stay with you, and i see this glow up happening in upcoming years like 2025, you might turn age of 24, 20's or in your 30's, it will be very natural, and i see lots of self pampering and giggles, which is just amazing, I also feel in this time you will recover from your trauma or past. I also see your personality being much more confident, and less anxiety which is a bonus, all i feel is you guys will be doing good, everything you have suffered it will get better~ Not only that i see academic or professional glow up, like you manifesting and getting good grades , you wanting the job and getting it, which goes with i heard celebrations.

That's all pile 1, I love that all i see and feel is growth here, couldn't be more happier for you, you deserve it~

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - 5 of cups, 2 of swords and 2 of cups)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is when you glow up next, you would be going through something a transformation or an awakening. I feel that will be really hard on you, and you will just ask universe, or question it, like what have we done to deserve this?. I feel it won't be easy, like the timing, but the way i see it, it will be a blessing for you because the way you will be becoming your best version and glowing up, is just amazing! alright let's dive deeper, what i feel here is when you glow up next is you will be going through a breakup of friendship/relationship/ or a loss of something might be you would be leaving behind things, which will be hard for you because i sense this pile might like to stay in their comfort zone, I also feel the next glow up will come with challenges, i see you getting through them, but i see you become hot ass version of your own self, like yes I freaking know my worth I also feel. It will bring you a sense of balance in your life with some peace, you will be able to have clear thoughts, without not feeling everything is a burden. I also feel there will be a period of darkness for you which will turn into something beautiful later. I also see you making some decisions, cutting people which are not serving you, or bringing you down. Which will naturally lead to peaceful situation and you feeling better about it. I also feel you guys are just not good at decision making lmao, like you don't know you cant trust yourselves, and this is for some of you not everyone! I also feel, there will be choice you would have to make for your own mental peace, and i see you being confused, but in the end you will have to go with your gut, because only that way i see you having a beautiful future. trust yourself is really a theme here, I feel you guys might have Capricorn/ Aquarius and Gemini/Libra as your sun/ moon / rising! I also feel you will have someone a friend/partner/or your parent especially mom, to help you guide right way, and you working on their advise and them bringing out best in you! You will definitely have big glow up in your mindset and physical self~ I also feel some of you might join gym/yoga or do it at home, or get in habit of it, thought i should mention what i was getting!

Okay so pile 2, that's all i got for you~, honestly as it may seem hard at first, with time, i see t getting easier and better for you!

Pile 3:

(The cards got for you - The magician, the sun and the king of cups)

Okay so pile 3, the very first thing i feel and hear for your pile is your next glow up will be mind-blowing, like you won't be recognizing yourself anymore such growth, in every way possible. I also feel this pile might be a overthinker or a creative mind, just random messages i have been getting, anyhow let's dive deeper! I feel your next glow up will be you finding your potential, in career way, or even you might tap into your divine feminine energy, i see this pile is very feminine yet you might also be trying to balance your masculine side of yourself which is just beautiful! I also feel, you guys would be making the best of what you have like not dwelling in future anymore, or trying to live in a moment, this glow up will bring you much needed life changes, you guys can check pile 1, i feel there might be messages for you there, I also feel you guys will glow up financially like the situation will be improving, things will be much easier, the rocky situation has passed, I also feel and heard "no more challenges, if there are it will be easier for you", I also feel you will be improving the way you communicate with others~ , not only this but i see infinite happiness, and so much growth and prosperity for you, I also feel the self growth and realization will go crazy~ (in a good way) I also feel some of you guys could seem very innocent , but you aren't your guides were like add that part, they are being funny rn hehe, Okay so I also feel this group might not show their emotions very effectively so i feel it will get better too! The zodiac signs for you guys are Sagittarius/taurus/Pisces/Scorpio in big 3 or 6!

Alright! Pile 3 that's all i got for you, i love how many positive messages i got for you and you deserve that! you got this my babies~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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ceilidho · 3 months ago

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take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 20 / epilogue)

masterlist

Black trees against a yellow sky at evening time.

It’s late when you finally reach home. Dark enough to almost be night—a full day longer to return than it took to leave, but then you hadn’t ridden as hard coming back, too sore and sleep-deprived to manage the same pace. Even the meager sleep you got on the road was hardly sufficient.

Then the shape of your house appears on the horizon and you nearly break down in tears. The sight of it fills you with such relief that you nearly lose your balance, your head slumping forward. Too long. Days that felt like weeks, your body and mind weary from the long trek home. Against the gold of the horizon light, it appears like a boat arriving at port.

You throw yourself off your horse and to the ground before John has even had a chance himself to dismount and come help you down. He stomps over when your foot nearly catches in the stirrup, nostrils flared and mustache twitching with his scowl.

“Don’t go breaking your leg before I’ve even gotten you home,” he growls when he reaches you, fitting his hand around the nape of your neck and giving it a squeeze. You’d shiver, but your body is too exhausted for your libido to manage more than a half-hearted twitch. Instead you nod, head bobbing like a baby doll.

John takes the horses to the stables while you clamber up the stairs on wobbly legs, headed straight for your bedroom, passing out the second your head touches the pillow. Your growling stomach will have to be addressed in the morning.

You aren’t conscious for when John comes up to join you, but you swear even in sleep you can sense his presence in the room. Certainly when he curls himself around you, the wall of warmth at your back briefly making your eyes flicker open before sleep claims you again and they slide shut.

In the morning, you eat a big breakfast before letting John rub a liniment onto your inner thighs and bandage the cuts on your hands and face. The doctor he takes you to see after breakfast for the shoulder that Graves dislocated prescribes bed rest and light stretching for recovery and laudanum for any lingering pain.

“What did you tell him?” you ask when the two of you head out for a light lunch in town before heading back home.

“Told him you fell off a horse.” He shrugs. “Not that uncommon around here.”

All you can do is roll your eyes.

Still, it’s as good an excuse as any. No one questions your story when you tell it to them over the following days, when your shoulder is still too tender for you to move it too vigorously. Only Kate lifts a brow knowingly, all but cornering you for the real story when you finally get a moment alone.

“That sonuvabitch,” she hisses when you finally break and tell her what happened.

“It’s fine,” you insist, shushing her. “John… Well, John handled it.”

She nods approvingly, then looks like she might say more before thinking the better of it. Silence falls between the two of you.

“He—” you pause in the middle of your sentence, unsure of how exactly to say it. “It wasn’t so bad. Telling him, I mean.”

Kate must catch the slight inflection in your voice because she stares at you expectantly, waiting for you to say more. “…I’m happy to hear that.”

You inhale as if gathering your breath to say more, but nothing comes out. You know what it is you want to say, but it’s getting it out that’s the tricky bit. What you want to tell her is that your trust wasn’t misplaced in the end; all of your fears that the truth would shatter the affection and trust that had finally been shown to you after a lifetime of nothing were unfounded, proven ultimately wrong.

“Was there something else you wanted to add?”

You chew your lower lip.

“No. Nothing else,” you say in the end. There’ll be a time someday to tell her that her trust wouldn’t be misplaced with John or Kyle either; perhaps that day will come sooner than you expect, but for now it remains on the distant horizon. It’s not your place to lecture or admonish; your place in her life is to offer the same feeling of security and companionship as she’s offered you.

Today, you loop your arm through hers and join her for lunch.

In town, people greet you like you never left. Only one person asks you about the man you were walking with the previous day, and Kate covers for you when you stumble over your answer, throat constricting in your panic. There’s no suspicion in the question, but still you anticipate it because life has conditioned you to expect pain as a response to any action or inaction.

You are surprised when pain doesn’t come this time. But still, you are wary.

When you get home, John fills the tub with hot water for you and lets you wash up on your own while he tends to the horses, the third now unofficially his. You lean your arms over the side of the tub and drift in and out of your daydreams, ears attuned only to the sound of his voice and the owls calling from the trees just beyond the house. Eyes fluttering shut until slipping deeper into the water kicks you back into wakefulness.

“You falling asleep in there?” he asks when he stomps back inside, the door slamming shut behind him and nearly giving you a heart attack.

“No,” you deny, discreetly wiping the rheum from the inner corners of your eyes. “Just resting my eyes.”

“Of course,” he snorts. Amused as ever by seemingly anything that comes out of your mouth.

A telegram comes in to the sheriff's office some weeks later asking about a missing bounty hunter, and though you pitch forward in your chair when John tells you this, he’s quick to remind you that as far as anyone else knows, Graves moved on after his first visit a month or so back.

It takes time to reassure you, but slowly your hands unclench from the edge of your seat.

Still, you make yourself scarce for a week after that. It takes some time for you to feel safe again. You spend those first few days after hearing about the telegram constantly looking over your shoulder, plagued by the worry that you’ll be found out. Sharing your worries with John doesn’t go a long way towards alleviating them because his confidence never wavers. It’s almost infuriating.

“Would it kill you to just pretend?” you huff, cracking an egg into the skillet.

“Nobody’s gonna come looking for him here. ‘Far as anyone knows, he made his way west a long time ago,” he says, dismissing your concerns while clipping his fingernails at the kitchen table. You scrunch up your nose when you glance over your shoulder.

“You better not think I’m sweeping those up.”

He barks out a laugh at that, shaking his head at the same time.

True to his word, the front door stays shut. No one comes knocking looking for an errant bounty hunter. Perhaps that is a lesson that you can take away from all of this—that there is no reward for isolating oneself. Your safety has only ever been assured in community, in putting your trust in others and safeguarding their secrets in turn. Only love has ever held out its arms for you to fall into.

And now the days pass like clouds in the sky.

Tranquility hovers on the periphery of your life with every intention of calling out your name. It’s waiting for you with open arms.

In the evenings, John takes you upstairs to the bedroom and pries you open enough to fit himself in. His mouth blazes a trail across your body, sucking your nipples until they’re beaded, wetting his beard with the essence of your pleasure, and bringing you to the brink of completion time and again before pushing you over.

After a while, he leaves a piece of himself behind.

Weeks pass and the seasons change. The changes you notice in your body are physical as well as emotional. At some point since coming home, you must have started to unwind. Shoulders loosening up, knots melting down your back. Is it just you, or does the air smell fresher too?

You pin the laundry up on the clothesline and wait for your husband to come home. The sun sets earlier these days with autumn just around the corner. Already the leaves have begun to redden and brown, some breaking off from the branches altogether and floating to the ground where you know eventually they’ll rot and dissolve into the earth, starting the cycle of death and rebirth all over again.

Winter is fast approaching and you know this one will be tough with a little one on the way. You’ve already started preparing for the winter months—canning and storing corn and potatoes and other root vegetables harvested from your garden, making preserves from the fruits of autumn—apples and pears sealed in jars of thick syrup—and filling the cellar with barrels of salted and cured meats. In town, you visit the seamstress for clothes of thicker material and leave with an armful of wool flannel petticoats, fur-trimmed bonnets, and corsets of a heavier cotton coutil.

You rest a hand on your belly as you stare off into the distant mountains. Even the sky darkens earlier these days. When all of the laundry is pinned on the line, you pick up the wicker basket resting by your feet and bring it back inside, shuffling into the kitchen to get started on supper.

There’s still much that needs to be done before winter arrives. Firewood to be chopped, furs and blankets to be hung on the walls, the fireplace to be swept, and more. Enough to keep you busy and your mind occupied when you aren’t bent over a book because that’s also your reality these days. The librarian in town now knows you by name and knows to set aside a few books a week for you to pick up when you pass by with Kate.

You don’t think much of the knock at the door at first, absent-mindedly thinking that it must be a neighbor come to visit. Only when you open the door to an unfamiliar face do you pause.

It’s a woman, not too dissimilar in looks from you. A bit taller, but otherwise if someone were to describe you from looks alone, they might be tempted to use the same words for either of you. She stands on your porch with a suitcase held by her side, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead from the short trip from town. She dabs her forehead lightly with a handkerchief before pocketing it again.

“Hello there,” she greets, a bright smile on her face. “I’m looking for John Price. I was told he lives here?”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at her nonplussed, not understanding why a strange woman might be at your door asking for your husband in such a familiar way. It takes a moment for it to sink in. Then the light goes on and your confusion shifts to disbelief with a twinge of rage.

“We’re engaged to be married,” the other woman hurries to explain, taking a step closer, foot wedged in the door almost as if intending to barge right in.

Her gall nearly makes you lose your temper. Months ago, you might’ve welcomed her arrival, eager to prove to John that you weren’t the woman that he mistook you for so that you could be on your merry way. But that time has long since passed. There isn’t anywhere else in the world you’d rather be than here. You’ve put roots down, entrenched yourself in every way.

Your lips pull into a hard line, face set in stone. “You must be mistaken. He’s already married.”

She blinks, uncomprehending. “That’s…—are you sure? We’ve been corresponding. I know I’m a few months late, but I was held up back in—”

You cut her off by sticking out your hand, topaz ring shining bright on your third finger. “I’m sure. But thank you for stopping by; I’ll let John know you send your apologies.”

And with that, you shove her foot out with yours and shut the door on her face. On another day, you’ll allow yourself to feel guilty for your rudeness; for now, this is your happy ending to enjoy.

And savor it, you will.

#ceil writing #cod x reader #price x reader #price/reader #john price x reader #price x you #john price x you #john price x y/n

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felassan · 2 months ago

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Dragon Age Day 2024 – Developer Reddit AMA (Q&A session) – compilation post

Introduction: “Happy Dragon Age Day! John Epler and Corinne Busche are here to answer your questions for the next ~2 hours. Looking forward to chatting with everyone. We won't be able to get to all questions, but hoping to get to a good mix!”

I gathered the questions and answers from the AMA together in this post, as the AMA has now concluded. The rest of this post is under a cut due to spoilers and length.

Q: "If you could’ve developed DLC, what — and/or where — would you have wanted to explore? Would it have been a new locale with a complementary, self-contained story or something that adds to the main plot and teases the future?"

Corinne Busche: "On the gameplay side, I had a thought about adding a new class option, which is directly related to the environments and story. I've always wanted to revisit the Bard, and I've long felt in the context of Veilguard the best way to handle player-controlled blood magic would have been to build a unique 'Blood Mage' class for it."

Q: "Can we look forward to more lore-supplementary material, for example World of Thedas vol.3?"

John Epler: "With all of the lore reveals in DATV, another World of Thedas is something we'd absolutely love to do. That said, they're complex beasts and require a lot of work from a lot of people, so I can't really promise anything, but it's something we're interested in, at least."

Q: "1. How exactly did Solas's blood magic manipulation of Rook work? Did he only alter Rook's perception to make them think that Varric was still around, or did the blood magic actively prevent Rook from reacting to Varric in a way that would have given up the ruse to the other characters? 2. What is the state of Southern Thedas after the events of DAV?"

John: "Solas' magic caused Rook to see Varric when he wasn't there. Originally, of course, Solas wanted Varric to keep Rook more off-balance - but the thing about the Fade is that things don't always work the way you expect or want them to. As for the state of Southern Thedas - it's been pretty radically altered. The balance of power has shifted, but even those who rode out the storm of the Gods' blight better than others are still reluctant to start anything as the whole place is in rough shape."

Q: "When looking back on DAV, is there any part you wish that you could have spent more time on?"

John: "For me, it's about the Antaam and their split from the rest of the Qunari. There are elements of that story in both the Crows content and in Taash's personal quest, but in a dream world, having the Ben Hassrath as an additional faction (albeit, one you don't know if you can trust) would've been nice."

Corinne: "And for myself, I certainly share some of the desires the community has. Going deeper on romances, and more choices to import. I love our choices and consequences in the game already and maybe we could've added a few more on the scale of the Minrathous/Treviso choice, that significantly alter the remainder of the game. I think we learned how to make that work within our gameflow and content structure, so I look forward to being able to lean in on these beats more heavily. That said, no artist or creator is ever going to be completely content with their work, and even so when I take a step back and look at the game as a whole, I'm extremely proud of what were able to accomplish."

Q: "Can we get confirmation on what happened to the other Evanuris? Will we get any more lore? Shame we didn't hear a whole lot about them besides essentially being behind the previous Blights."

John: "We haven't been SUPER specific about this, but at best the other Evanuris are a shadow of their former selves, and at worst they're dead. The death of their Archdemons, particularly when they were still trapped in the Fade, caused enough magical feedback that it broke their minds and bodies. A couple may have survived as shells, but they aren't in the same state as Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan."

Q: "Will we get at least anything post launch that via free updates that further expands some story elements? Will rook continue to be the main protagonist going further??"

Corinne: "We've been continuing to improve upon the game post-launch through various bug fixes, balance updates, and quality-of-life improvements. Notably new character creator options and armors for DA Day and N7 Day, and some cool features like Photo Mode filters. Beyond this focus however, we largely view this story as complete and are not planning for further story content. Whether Rook will return in the future, well it's just too early to say :)"

Q: "The marketing for the game claimed that choices not imported from prior games wouldn't be overridden. However, certain dialogue from characters like Harding seemed to establish certain canon events from previous games that were not locked in. Is the intention that a hard canon is being established from DATV forward?"

John: "Ultimately, there's still no intention for there to be a hard canon going forward. These games have been going on for 15 years, though, and with all of the previous games to remember, as well as developing this one, there are absolutely places where we unintentionally suggested there was a hard canon (the one I've seen specifically is that Isabela is always assumed to have joined Hawke's party). I'd say those are oversights and not part of a deliberate strategy. While there are definitely some smaller decisions we will likely never revisit, I want to keep those other choices alive and relevant in the future, and with the state of Thedas the way it is at the end of DATV, I don't really think there's a way forward that DOESN'T involve bringing some of those bigger choices back to the forefront."

Q: "Was there anything at risk of being cut from the game that you fought tooth and nail to keep in?"

Corinne: "Oh, absolutely. There are always those things in game dev that are at risk due to scope and deadlines. There were 3 big ones that immeadiately come to mind: The Transmog feature, the Lords of Fortune Hall of Valor, and Haunts questline. I'll throw in Photo Mode as well, but that was one that we always knew we'd like to do, and had to dig deep to find the time and resources for it."

Q: "Is it set in stone that we will not be getting DLC?"

Corinne: "Correct, our focus was to tell a complete story with the release of Veilguard. Beyond the quality of life improvements and a couple new armor sets we're doing to support the game, we won't have any new story or gameplay content coming to the game."

Q: "Are there any plans to try and increase character saves on console to more than 3?"

Corinne: "This is something we've investigated, but because this touches our save file architecture there are no plans at this time to increase the limit."

Q: "Are you planning to make another Dragon Age after this one ?"

Corinne: "There are so many more stories yet to be told, and threats to defend against, within Thedas, but that's all we can say for now as we don't have anything new to announce."

Q: "With the polarizing nature of this iteration of Dragon Age, how did the media attention affect the team as a whole and the morale leading into and post launch?"

Corinne: "This is a tough one to answer, because it's so personal and specific to each member of the team. So let me say this, we've seen that with each Dragon Age release there has been a passionate, and sometimes polarized, response. When you consider how invested the players are, the nature of reinvention in the franchise, and the commitment to inclusivity, it makes a lot of sense to see the broad array of reactions. What I can say is that the team is really proud of what they have built, and the positive critical reception it's received. Within the team, we've been sharing all of the wonderful letters, fan art, and anecdotes from the players, and listening closely to the constructive criticism. That's really where we focus our attention."

Q: "Could you comment on current logic of Lucanis romance? Him leaving PC because of a certain choice does not make sense, because right after that he picks up the romance arc with Neve, who did exactly same choice. Was it intentional, or are we dealing with a broken plot flag or oversight?"

Corinne: "Lucanis is a deeply passionate individual, and rightly or wrongly, can't overlook that it was Rook's decision as the leader of the Veilguard to support Minrathous, when so many lives were bound to be lost in Treviso. It hasn't dimmed his passions, which is why he ultimately still pursues Neve, but it does come at the cost of the fledgling romance with Rook. As with all people, Lucanis is complex in the way he internalizes his experiences, and this is one he couldn't look past."

Q: "Are there any comics or books planned that are set after the events of DAV?"

John: "Ancilliary media is always tricky but personally I'd love to do more in that space. I think the ending of DATV leaves the world pretty well open to a number of different stories and exploring how the dynamics of Thedas have changed after the events of DATV is, IMO, a really fun path to go down."

Q: "Can we see Sandal in the future Game/DLC?"

Corinne: "That's an interesting possibility to explore. Especially given what we've learned in Harding's quest line and the awakening of her powers through her connection to the Titans. It's a really fascinating side of lore, but like we've mentioned already we don't have any new story content coming to the game or anything further to announce."

Q: "I want to give a shout out to John, Corinne, and Trick in particular. What a great group of people who clearly love this series! Would love to know about their canon Rooks/romances and their playthroughs"

Corinne: "At this point I've done so many playthroughs it's difficult to keep them all straight! If there was one that I'd say is my "canon" however, I'd say it would be my Shadow Dragon Qunari Rogue, named 'Rin'. She was a Veil Ranger who was always a bit quick on the draw, chose to save Minrathous, selected Maevaris for Archon, and romanced her one true love: Taash! Ultimately Rin and Taash agreed that Taash should honor their life as a Rivani, before we defeated the gods, redeemed Solas, and sent him off into the fade to be with his own true love: The Inquisitor. <3"

John: "Qunari mage Rook who's romancing Harding. He's the handsomest Qunari in Thedas, and that's a burden he bears every day. I'd also just add that while I appreciate the kind words, a game like this couldn't come together without a tremendous number of people, far more than are active on social media. So shout out to the whole team for the hard work they've done."

Q: "Can we hope to see something related to Awakened Darkspawn in the future that the franchise has? (As in prequels or new instalments.)"

Corinne: "Difficult to say. I've always been a fan of the rare cases of Awakened Darkspawn, but if they were to turn up, it would need to be because they were right for the story."

Q: "My question is - what are your plans for upcoming patches? Do you expect that they'll mainly be bug fixes, or is there a possibility that there could be content patches? And if so, any chance for more interaction between Rook and the companions, since that's top of many of our wishlists for the game right now? (Lucanis in particular for me :) but every one of us has their own favorites!)"

Corinne: "I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! I believe we've responded to another question about the post launch plans, but let me include some of that information here as well. We're currently focused on various bug fixes, balance updates, and quality-of-life improvements. Notably new character creator options and armors for DA Day and N7 Day, and some cool features like Photo Mode filters. Beyond this focus however, we largely view this story as complete and are not planning for further story content."

Q: "Where does Andraste and the Maker fit into the world of Thedas given all that was revealed during Trespasser and Veilguard. We obviously know the whole story about the Evanuris and their role in shaping the world as it is, the Black City, the Blight, etc. Is The Maker just a human mythology that sprang up to explain this? Does The Maker still exist?"

John: "That's a weighty question. I do think there are some questions we should never (and likely will never) answer completely - I think the moment you reveal everything there is to know about a fantasy universe, you start to lose some of the mystery that brought people into it in the first place."

Q: "Are you going to add new armor or skins as you added the Mass Effect one?"

Corinne: "We actually just dropped the new Hawke-inspired armor, face paint, and body paint, as of today in celebration of Dragon Age Day!! Really hope you enjoy! I know for me personally, it's going to be my go-to transmog armor from now on."

Q: "What features/storylines were left on the cutting room floor? Followup if you're feeling generous: How was the development of Veilguard viewed internally, and was the majority of the studio satisfied with the time given to develop the game?"

Corinne: "Tightening up content and making cuts is a tough but typical part of game development. A few of the biggest cuts we had to make were trimming down the Faction story arcs, and letting go of a few explorable spaces. There were also a few areas, like blighted Weisshaupt that we could've returned to and explore. In both cases however, I believe we rightly opted to let go of these quests and areas in favor of increased focus on the quality of the existing Faction quests and exploration areas and shipping a high quality performing experience."

Q: "After reading the Dragon Age: The Veilguard book I noticed the jurassic tortoises didn't make the cut into the game, they were also teased in the initial teaser trailer from a few years ago. Any particular reason they were cut?"

John: "It's less about them getting cut and more that they just never moved far enough ahead to be a part of the game with full animation sets (combat, locomotion, etc)"

Q: "Is there any hope that you'll be announcing official mod tools, or a toolset like Dragon Age: Origins?"

Corinne: "No, we don't have any plans for official mod support."

Q: "My question is >! where does Solas/where do Solas and the Inquisitor go off to at the end if he’s redeemed? Back into the prison he made or just the fade in general?"

John: "We're leaving that ambiguous on purpose, but given that the Fade is shaped by dreams and thoughts, I think it's fair to say that the section of the Fade that Solas and the Inquisitor end up in is a lot nicer than the Fade that Solas gets trapped in with the other two endings."

Q: "How do you think Veilguard sets up the future of the franchise? Where would you like to take it from here?"

Corinne: "I'm sure it won't surprise you when I say we riff on this topic a lot! What really captures my imagination now that we've resolved some of the mysteries pertaining to the blight and the Elven gods, is exploring the aftermath of this crisis in a deeply destabilized Thedas. As you can imagine, given a blight of this magnitude, and the revelations of the Elven gods, it's going to have long lasting geo-political implications, and there will be those eager to take advantage of the situation. Not to mention, there is so much yet to explore in the nature of the the Dwarves and Qunari, and their relationship to the Titans and Dragons respectively."

John: "To riff on what Corinne is saying - I think, for myself, I'd love to look at taking it down from 'end of the world' to 'the world is changing, how do you adapt and react'. The balance of power has changed, and the Sword of Damocles that is the Evanuris and the Blight is no longer hanging over the world. What does that look like? Who's on top now? And with all the revelations brought up in DATV, what does that look like for the Dwarves, or the Qunari?"

Q: "1) I've seen people that they believe Andraste was a vessel for Mythal because of a comment Morrigan makes about a previous vessel falling in love with an Almarri Chieftain. Is this the case or was she talking about Flemeth? 2. About the Executors, is their manipulation more on the level of leaking information to select people to guide events, or is it more along the lines of "Loghain suspects that Cailan wants to ally with Orlais, let's stoke his hatred by having him see/hear events that remind him of what they did." 3. Lastly, are there any plans to let us visit Kal Sharok proper in any future games? It was great getting a small glimpse of the Dwarves from there and see an outpost but would love to see the actual city!"

John: "I think I'm going to have to keep the first question a mystery for everyone. :) For the second, it varies. The Executors are very mysterious and, more importantly, incredibly risk averse. They attempt to manipulate events in the most subtle way they can manage. Sometimes that means leaving a particularly inflammatory document on the right desk. Sometimes it means stoking existing fears and doubts. Not everything they try is successful, in part because of how unwilling they are to put themselves at risk. For Loghain, it would have been incredibly subtle. He's smart, strong willed and, in his own way, loyal to Ferelden to a fault. For others, it would've been different. I'd love to do more with Kal Sharok as there are some interesting stories still to tell that involve them, but we don't have anything to announce as it relates to future games."

Q: "If you could make one of the faction leaders a party member in the next game, who would you choose?"

Corinne: "For me, it would absolutely be Evka and Antoine (you have to bring them as a couple, right???). They've come to have place in my heart, and I would love to know what the future of the Wardens looks like. That said, a couple of runners up: Maevaris Tilani, and a reprised companion role for Isabela, would make me very excited!"

Q: "Did you expect so many players to be so thirsty over Emmrich? He is the best player in the game for me, thank you for his lovely presence."

Corinne: "I mean, we definitely had our suspicions. Within the dev team, we are also fans of the game, and what we found was that some of us were very drawn to, and quite vocal about, our resident necromancer. There's something so endearing about his gentle demeanor and that juxtaposition of necromancy as a force for good and reverence, that makes him really compelling."

Q: "I wanted to start out by saying I love this game, but one of my major questions is: What happened with the Lords of Fortune? They have significantly less content and reactivity than the other factions with Rook not even commenting on things that they would already know like Isabela explaining what "Pulling a Barv" is. Similarly, the Lords don't have a theme for the Lighthouse OR colorways or even a real faction quest line like the others have. Were they intended to be a different faction (a qunari/tal vashoth one maybe) and it got swapped late? Where they just added late when time/budget was already running low? Was it determined that fewer players would pick that faction so less resources were allocated? I feel like there's a reason as to why since the difference between playing as a Lord and playing as any other faction feels really extreme."

Corinne: "We always knew that some of the factions needed to have a larger presence in the overall story than others, so when we approached our content planning, we took that into account. They are inherently assymetrical. That said, I think there is a lot of interesting material to now work with in regards to the Lords of Fortune and the Rivain Coast if that's right for another story."

Q: "What was the motivation behind writing the Inquisitior's missives and the ultimate fate of southern Thedas? Is that an area you are likely to revisit in future games? T his question is the result of a lot of discussion that's been had in the fandom as of late and one to which there's no definite answer, but I'm curious: as developers and writers, what features and qualities do you believe make up Dragon Age's core identity?"

Corinne: "Around the time we approached Alpha, we realized that this blight, and the impact of the gods on all of Thedas was so much bigger than what the player would see in the north. We felt this was a natural opportunity to have the Inquisitor serve as that connection to the events happening in the South, to show that the entirety of Thedas was impacted, and the Inquisitor was not one to stand idly by. Sometimes I daydream about exploring the parallel adventures of the Inquisitor in the south while these events are unfolding in the north. That could be a really fascinating tale and perspective. Regarding Dragon Age's core identity. Well, that's a big question and one that will mean different things to different people. I can tell you that internally we've always stood-by the mantra that 'Dragon Age is an experience about people'. That is to say, the setting serves as an opportunity to really explore the depths and motivations of characters during times of crisis, joy, and companionship. Another that I reflect on frequently is how Dragon Age has become a franchise where each game has been different in its approach, and while it can make these titles challenging to develop, it also creates an opportunity to keep the franchise fresh."

Q: "What was the reasoning behind only making Dock Town an explorable area in Minrathous, rather than a combination of areas of the city, such as where the upper class lives?" [I think this comment was edited at some point after posting hence some of the answer below seeming unrelated]

John: "Given the state of Thedas at the end of DATV, Minrathous has become the diplomatic hub for the entire continent. While we could, to some degree, avoid references to the Divine and Ferelden's leader by virtue of this game taking place in Northern Thedas, I don't think that would be possible (or satisfying) going forward. There will, as always, be some choices that we won't reference, but others are, I think, going to be required to tell a coherent story in the future. Focus, more than anything. We originally had a few areas in Minrathous but rather than spread our resources thinly across multiple areas, we chose to focus on Dock Town and make sure it felt coherent and cohesive, as well as doing our best to stamp out any bugs we found. If we ever revisit Minrathous (which I'd love to do), I think we'd spend more time in the other districts. Both Harding and Davrin have specific, non-quantum reasons for being willing to sacrifice everything to stop the gods. For Davrin, he saw Weisshaupt fall - and he had his own opportunity to heroically sacrifice himself taken away. For Harding, she's been on this quest for nearly a decade, and she saw Varric, her friend and mentor, fall. Neve/Lucanis could have worked in either slot but that multiplies the complexity even further - and Neve already was earmarked for the wards."

Q: "During development, did you plan for a cameo of any companion from previous games that ultimately got scrapped? If so, may I ask who? And on this topic, has an appearance of the Hero of Ferelden on the table at any point? Is there a reason they haven't appeared since Origins?"

Corinne: "Thank you so much for the kind words! Glad you enjoyed! While not a companion, for a long while Charter had a role in the game. Ultimately we felt this wasn't the best fit and decided to move away from her appearance. In some cases, the opposite was true, where we added former Companions. Bringing back Isabela was a relatively late call, but we did feel we had the right role for her to fill within the Lords of Fortune. I often think about the role the Hero of Ferelden might play. It's a challenging one due to the choices the player may have made, not to mention how we handle giving them a voice that matches player expectation given they were a silent protaganist. But I do think there is something there, and I would like to explore it, if we can find the right story to tell."

Q: "If an elf were to, say, exist in the Fade for an extended period of time, would they regain the elven magic (if not already a mage) and immortality? 👀 And if, hypothetically, they one day returned to the physical realm, would those qualities persist? (Tried to be as unspoil-y as possible!)"

John: "I think, at this point, no one really knows what's going to happen to an elf who spends an extended time in the Fade. In part because the Elves of today and the Elves of Solas' past are not really the same at all. But also, the Fade has changed since Solas was a spirit. So while he may have theories, he can't say anything for certain."

Q: "Throughout the game there are many hints at a new storyline involving the past of the Qun, The Devouring Storm, and the involvement of The Executors. In what capacity can we expect this new narrative thread to be explored (novels, comics, next game)?"

John: "I think that if these story elements aren't at the core of any new material, they're at the very least going to exist on the periphery. The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

Q: "I was wondering what happened to the forgotten one and why was he scared of the eye does that mean something or is it just him say that he is scared of going back into the fade"

John: "When Anaris is defeated, he's sent back to the Void. What's there isn't something anyone really knows, but if you read the other Codex entries scattered around Arlathan, it's clear that Anaris has touched something far darker and more dangerous than he expected, and now it has his scent, so to speak."

Q: "Compared to previous installments, Dragon Age: The Veilguard makes an effort to de-centralize the moral complexities of Thedas (i.e. the softening of the Antivan Crows, the lack of slavery seen in Tevinter, etc), instead focusing on choices based on character arcs instead of politics and/or morals. Is this shift an intentional one? If so, should we expect these kinds of character choices to be the new standard for Dragon Age games?"

John: "What worked for DATV isn't necessarily what's going to work for the future. Particularly with Thedas left in the state it's in - the balance of power has shifted dramatically. The South is suffering and the North isn't doing much better. Even those who may have forgotten past prejudices and put aside their differences in the name of stopping the gods are now being faced with a very different world than when they began this fight."

Q: "What other player choices from Inquisition and/or Origins & DA2 would you have liked to have implemented if you had more time and resources? Also, what characters would you have wanted to bring back?"

John: "Well of Sorrows. I think that's the biggest one - and we had some ideas for what we wanted to do with it. Unfortunately, making games is rarely a straight line endeavour, and some of the challenges we ran into required us to scrap that choice. I'd have liked to do more with the Divine as well, though with how little we touched on Andrasteism in this game I think it would've been a bigger challenge than expected. I think Fenris is the easy answer, but it's also the real one. Given his history, his relationship with Dorian and Mae could've been fun to explore, particularly depending on how you left him in DA2. That said, the challenge always does come down to 'quantum' - if a character could be dead, you can't make them load bearing, so they end up relegated to a cameo."

Q: "Is there a canon reason (maybe in some supplemental stories) that explains what happened to Fen'Harel's agents? Are some of the Dalish clans still working for Solas? What are the Arishok and the rest of the Qunari doing while the Antaam are conquering parts of Thedas? Does their absence in veilguard imply that they secretly approve of their actions or are planning on using them to their benefit? The faction of crows we interact with is very heroic and often puts aside their role as assassins in order to protect Treviso's citizens. Does their altruism create fiction between them and the other factions, who might see them as weaker or idealistic? What are some of the other factions like?"

John: "Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf. There are Dalish clans who are sympathetic to his goals, but even there, there's an understanding that he's too dangerous to have a more formal connection with, and that he will, ultimately, sacrifice them to his own ends if necessary. The Antaam no longer recognize the authority of the Arishok. Part of why they've split into warring factions of warlords is that they felt his adherence to the Qun (which he still adheres to, even now) was holding them back, so they organized what I'd describe as less of a coup and more of a 'choosing to ignore his orders' and launched their own attack on the mainland. Absolutely. I don't recall if this exchange made it into the final game, so apologies if not, but it's very clear that the faction of Crows you interact with is the 'idealists' of the bunch. The rest of the Crows, on the other hand, are far more pragmatic and willing to work with whoever emerges on top of the pile. Illario's far more representative of the average Antivan Crow than either Teia or Viago, and it's only Caterina that kept him in check this long."

Q: "What led to the player Quanari appearance compared to the Antaam, who look like Quanari from the previous game. Was it an armor modeling issue or just a design choice?"

Corinne: "To be honest, it's both. First let me say that when you have a character creator with the breadth of sliders and options for both head and body, that does create some constraints that you need to work within. We felt this was ultimately a good trade-off for the player, to ensure they could get the full range of face and body sliders that the other lineages were afforded. Also, we viewed the player-created Qunari as a continuation of the style of player-created Qunari in Dragon Age: Inquisition, which in both games, differ from some of the other forms of Qunari we've seen."

Q: "Having reviewed some of the game files, I'm curious about what the "dreamer" mechanics would've looked like? Would there have been dreamers on every map? Would it have just been a dialogue or would we have been able to see/experience the memories/dreams the dreamers are stuck in?"

Corinne: "We explored the idea of Dreamers at several points in developement. I believe the instance you're referring to was a mechanic in which you could encouter a Dreamer in the world, and then also encounter their corresponding consiousness in the Crossroads. We would have used this as a way to encourage a "back-and-forth" set of optional quests and mysteries to encourage exploration and discovery. Ultimately we abandoned the concept because mechanically the Crossroads Gates and corresponding Champions were providing a similar experience in driving the player from the Crossroads, out into the world, and then back to the Crossroads again."

Q: "The hair physics in the game are incredible. When did the studio commit to improving the hair options/physics, and was there any conversation/debate over that? Bad hair has been a staple of the franchise, so this was a delightful change to see."

Corinne: "Thank you so much! We heard the fans loud and clear, when it comes to character customization, that we needed to step up our hair game. This tech was something our engineers, character artists, and technical animators were all deeply passionate about (as you can tell!). So all of that combined it was a relatively early decision to invest in."

Q: "Some of the companions’ questlines left me craving more lore! For example, how did Valta end up as the Oracle and how does her gift differ from Harding’s? How did Zara manage to get Lucanis possessed as a rogue? Are there any other Forgotten Ones like Anaris actively trying to make their way back to the world? In short, might these questions be answered in the next Dragon Age game or additional media, or are they purposefully left open?"

Corinne: "I'm so glad these stories have their hooks in you! We have to leave some threads to tug on for future stories. ;-)"

Q: "(Spoilery question) Do elves or dwarves exist beyond Thedas?"

John: "That's a great question - and it's actually one that Bellara herself asks. I think 'what lies beyond the sea' is one of the most interesting spaces to explore in Dragon Age and whether the same people exist there is something that... well, I have some ideas, but I don't want to get into spoilers."

Q: "What happened to red lyrium? It feels like it was all but forgotten after DAI, even though it is blighted lyrium, and it felt like it would have made perfect sense to dig into its lore and workings a bit more since Ghilan'nain is the mother of the blight, and now knowing what the ancient elves did to the titans for lyrium.Red lyrium caused a lot of grief over the games that feels is just up in the air now, I'm curious if it was written out for the sake of a different narrative. Sortof connected to my previous question, if red lyrium is now not so significant in the lore/missing from it, why did the two gods need a specifically red lyrium dagger after losing Solas' purified red lyrium idol one? How does one purify something/someone of the blight itself?"

John: "Red lyrium is still present in DATV - it's how Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan are able to craft their dagger, after all, and it ties directly into Harding's personal quest - but at a certain point it felt like it wasn't serving much of a purpose 'out in the world', so to speak, that the Blight wasn't already serving. It made a lot more sense in DAI, where you had the Red Templars who were directly using it to gain power, but without them in the picture, we chose to lighten the emphasis on it for DATV. Particularly in a game where the connection and threat of the Blight is so much more immediate, with the gods out in the world."

Q: "How did you get the hair physics to do all that?"

John: "A lot of tremendous work from character art, programming, tech art and tech animation. I'm sure I'm missing some groups but, yeah, the hair really is incredible. I've been on DA since DAO and I recall the (fair) critiques we got of our hair post-DAI. It was incredible to see it come together."

Q: "Where does Emmrich sleep? He’s the only one without a bed in his room lol"

John: "He sleeps standing up, like a horse."

Q: "which of the three/four endings do you find the most thematically satisfying? in regard to solas and/or rook (because i’m not sure the answer is the same for both!) & why isn’t rook invited to the book club?? sorry this is my villain origin story, why is my beloved emmrich enabling this social ostracism. does rook canonically hate to read?"

Corinne: "As a Solavellan, I personally love the Redeem ending with the Inquisitor/Solas romance variant. I cried my eyes out at the end of Trespasser, and now that they can finally be together to know the joys of their love makes me so happy."

John: "I'm a big fan of Outsmart, largely because I think there's something deeply satisfying in outsmarting someone who is very confident about their cleverness and spends a lot of the game reminding you of it. That said, I will admit that the Solavellan ending is deeply moving, even for someone who, at one point, wanted to fight Solas like a Yakuza boss. As for why Rook's not invited - it's entirely an attempt to avoid forcing roleplay on a character that may not fit your idea of Rook. Some people's Rooks may not have the connection to the team that would let the book club make complete sense. That said, I totally get why people wish their Rook could be involved."

Q: "TLDR: ll some classes be buffed? Iirc in an interview corinne (i think? I dont remember where or who), said shield toss got nerfed cuz it was waaaay too strong. Having playing the game now with pretty much all classes, will there be some balancing changes? I definetely dont want shield toss to be nerfed again, i love it soooo much, but its definetely waaaaaay above everything else i managed to build so far."

Corinne: "We're definitely monitoring class balance, and have generally taken the stance of "buff not nerf". That said, we're finding pretty good viability for all of the specializations, with the right supporting skills, gear, and companion builds. So in terms of priority that's lead us to largely focus on addressing properties on skills and gear that were not functioning as intended. I don't want to dismiss your feedback here though - I'll take a moment to dig deeper into our Veil Ranger data and see how those builds are comparing specifically. Glad you're enjoying the shield toss builds. That playstyle was definitely one that we were very excited about supporting!"

Q: "Why did Assan have to die with Davrin in the Ghilan'nain choice?"

Corinne: "Turlum is a powerful bond. There was simply no way Assan would have given up on Davrin so easily. Hope is a powerful force when it comes to the people you love, and sometimes we risk everything for it."

Q: "Something that has me confused. When Bellara/Neve are blighted but help use the blight to stop Elgarnan and at the end when all the blight in the area died and they were cured of the blight. How did they get cured? Is the blight itself now curable? Also, how did Solas manage to cure the red lyrium idol of the blight so he could have it back to it being the normal lyroum dagger?"

John: "When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure. But without that power behind it, it's less dangerous and deadly than it's ever been before. So while it isn't generally 'curable', it's less of a short-term death sentence than it has been previously. As for how Solas cleansed the idol - another ritual. This one was much smaller scale, but a lot more dangerous."

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Q: "I have just one very important question: what are your thoughts on Solas and Rook as a pairing? Their chemistry and interactions were a highlight in the game for me personally and I need to be able to sass and then kiss that egghead."

Corinne: "Oh gosh, you and me both! I'm not sure any of us could have anticipated how notable that chemistry turned out. And what excites me is how this relationship is something that could be developed even further."

Q: "I was wondering if it would be possible to see Cassandra in Nevarra interacting with Emmerich or Zevran in Antiva interacting with Lucanis? I understand that there a danger of turning any game into a cameo fest that would only appeal to old school fans but I did miss them. Especially as we had Isabella and Dorian in Rivain and Tevinter. To make the question a little more general what are the chances of seeing pre veilguard companions in any future iteration of dragonage?"

John: "I think the joy of the kind of 'fresh start' that the end of The Veilguard gives us is that, if we do make another game, we're no longer spending so much of the early game not only onboarding players into a new story, but also onboarding some of them (namely, those who didn't play DAI or don't remember it) into the story that leads up to this story. And part of what that allows you is more opportunity for returning characters who are meaningful, because their past is less likely to be narratively load bearing to the story. People who recognize them will have a moment of recollection, and people who don't won't be any more confused by the experience."

Q: "How did Jowin achieve the rank of First Warden? Was he ever deserving of the kind of respect Davrin seemed to have for him?"

John: "By the time you meet Jowin in DATV, he's become a political creature more than anything else. Which makes sense - after what happened to the Order in Origins, I think there was an internal realization that they had to spend more time making nice with the leaders of the various countries so no one would ever do to them again what Loghain did back then. But he didn't get that position entirely due to his connections. He was a fearsome warrior and a brave Warden in his own right, saving people and winning against impossible odds time and time again. He's older, though, and is still fighting the last war in his mind. Internally, we always described him as the general who was a brilliant tactician back in his time, but war has changed so dramatically and he refuses to keep up. I think he was deserving of that respect, though - and if you choose to talk him down (which very few of you seem to have done) you'll get a glimpse of the man he used to be."

Q: "If Solas ritual succeeded, what would have happened to the elves? And to the human? The art book make it look like they just drop dead but solas dialogs don't seems to go in that direction"

John: "I think the reality is that even Solas couldn't properly answer that question. In his mind, there would be some pain and suffering, for sure, as everyone adjusted to the raw magic now pouring into the world and the demons everywhere, but eventually everyone would live surrounded by magic and possibility. Immortality would be possible as well, and you can't make a world saving omelette without breaking a few eggs. I also think Solas is a gifted liar to everyone, including himself. Deep down he knew that the ritual was going to result in large scale casualties, but he saw it as an acceptable price to pay to fix what he saw as his mistake."

Q: "Unlike the last game, there were 2 fewer Companions, a rouge, and a warrior less, if it was up to you what sort of characters would fill up those two spots? and also if you could have a character from earlier games temporarily join you for a single quest who would you choose? with the exception of Bioware games which RPG game is your favorite"

Corinne: "Oh gosh, well I'll answer some of questions 1 & 2 together... I would have loved to bring back Fenris, either as a cameo or to fill that Warrior slot. As for the Rogue role, I do think something akin to the Saboteur Specialization would have been an interesting style for a Companion. Favorite RPG outside of BioWare games, well I'll give you three in order: Baldur's Gate 3, then Xenogears, followed by FFXII."

Q: "What happens to the lighthouse and the crossroads after the end of the game? Do the Veiljumpers claim it?"

Corinne: "Good question! I actually daydream about this one a lot! Does Rook, assuming they survived, continue to reside there given what they'd been through with Solas? Is stewardship returned to the Elven people? One thing has always been true for me: The Lighthouse existing as it does is intrinsically linked to the Caretaker, and I doubt we've seen the last of them."

Q: "My questions are mainly centered around the game's lore. Dragon Age Veilguard seems to have established a very elf centric past for the world as well as the races populating the world. Current state of the Titans, the Blight, the Old Gods, and some other things I may be forgetting, they all have links and origins to the Evanuris and the rest of the elves. In future installments, can we hope for other races to get more attention with respect to this? Because right now, it feels that most of the biggest mysteries of the universe as well as circumstances leading to the present state of the world, are a result of the elves... T o me, the magic system in Veilguard felt very different from the other games in the series. When Bellara mentioned stuff like 'recalibrate the matrices', 'readjusting energy flow', etc., it felt more scifi than fantasy. None of the past Dragon Age games had this kind of talk and it felt too big a leap for going from Southern Thedas to the North, especially considering none of the Northern characters in past Dragon Age games spoke like this either. This was one of the few instances in the game that felt immersion breaking to me. Can you guys help reconcile Veilguard's magic system with the magic of the past games?"

John: "I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. We're never going to stop telling stories about the elves, but I think there are plenty of interesting stories to tell in Thedas where the Evanuris are tertiary characters at most. I think that's a fair reaction, but I'll answer the question in two parts. First - Bellara assumes she knows everything about magic. She probably knows more about the way ELVEN magic works better than anyone else in the world who isn't an Evanuris - but that doesn't mean she actually knows how magic itself works. The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep. Bellara and Emmrich get into this a little bit in their banter, but so much of the rest of the world - the magic of death that the Mourn Watch wield, for example, or the magic of the deep Fade that Bellara feels when she does some of her experiments in the lighthouse - is not the same as Elven magic. Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right."

Q: "I need to know about companion approval! I understand how companion bond rank works as it is well explained and visible in-game, but I cannot seem to find a good explanation for approval. Are the two linked? What effect does approval/disapproval have in the game? Is there something I'm missing in-game where current approval level is visible and I just haven't found it yet? PS: Spellblade Supremacy"

Corinne: "Yes! They are linked! Approval does contribute a small-to-moderate amount of progress towards your Bond. Disapproval is a small negative, but it's important to note that your Bond cannot de-level. Overall however, the surest way to advance your Bond is by helping the Companions with their personal quests. Also, really glad you enjoyed Spellblade as much as we did! The gameplay team really outdid themselves with that Specialization."

Q: "I'm mostly wondering if/how the griffons can be saved as a species since there's only one surviving clutch. It seems like a lack of genetic diversity would doom them to re-extinction, but I'm hoping there's a lore-friendly way to overcome that."

John: "It's funny you say that because I keep thinking the exact same thing. I can't remember exactly how much genetic diversity you need to have to make a species viable but I am sure it's more than just the clutch of eggs you saved from the Gloom Howler. But in a setting with as much magic and mystery as Dragon Age, I think that's probably the least of the problems the Griffons are going to face going forward."

Q: "With the ending showing a cured Neve/Bellara is that implying that the Blight outside of the Fade has been cured? If so, do Wardens no longer hear the calling, and what does that mean for the Kal-Sharok dwarves? Especially curious about this since DA:I implied the HoF was searching for a cure to the calling. In the concept art book it seemed like there were plans to show us more of Minrathous/Tevinter than just Dock Town. Curious to know what changed and if we will ever have an opportunity to return to other areas of the city?"

John: "The Blight is forever changed. It's less perilous and less virulent than it was before, and whatever motive force was coming through the Veil to empower it at the end of the game has been severed. That said, it still exists in some form, and not everyone is going to be cured in the same way. Beyond that - the Wardens no longer hear the whisper of the Calling, but right at the edges of perception, they're hearing something. What is it? Great question. With how long this game's been in development, there are things that have come and gone over time as we shift the project's scope and direction from one type of game to another. Originally we did have more of Minrathous built out for the player, but we chose to focus on making Dock Town feel meaningfully full of content instead of creating more areas just to put nothing in them. I will say that, for me, I want to revisit Minrathous in the future. I don't think we gave it enough time and there are multiple other stories that can be told both in it and with it. Particularly with the way the game ends, its importance in the world has only gone up, as it's become the diplomatic hub of Thedas, and thus a place of even greater importance in the world."

Q: "Maybe someone else can answer this question but why does Mythal’s essence relieve Solas of his guilt in the romanced Inquisitor ending when in his memories, she’s objecting to what he’s doing? Since winged dragons are female, does that mean the Archdemons/Old Gods are female? I noticed they’re labeled as male on the wiki and was unsure if it’s not updated or Old God followers assumed or were told they were male. I understand if this might pose as a logistical nightmare but would the devs consider polyamorous and/or open relationships instead of monogamy if they haven’t already? Given how diverse sexuality is in Thedas, I’m surprised there aren’t more instances of poly/open relationships. I miss going to brothels too"

John: "People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now. Correct, all Archdemons are female. Elgar'nan, of course, doesn't really care what reality is, only what HIS reality is, and so he's quite happy to see Lusacan as simply being an extension of himself and, thus, male. Something about Elgar'nan that we only really show in the ending is that he is, in truth, just as scarred and blighted as Ghilan'nain, but he uses a portion of his magic to always look handsome and regal, because his ego really is that big. Polyamory is something we've talked about doing before, and it's something that I know the writing team was into, but rather than simply turning it into a 'you can have multiple romances' toggle we wanted to be sure we did it respectfully and properly."

Q: "Does Solas know about the Executors and will he ever appear again in future games (similar to Morrigan)? Was there ever a point that the Inquisitor was considered as the main or secondary protagonist for this game? It was interesting to have a person with no knowledge about Solas–a cunning, ancient elven god–try to track him down especially when that anonymity did not work in their favor anyway (Solas knew about Rook for a year prior to meeting). Was 'rook' initially an alias for the Inquisitor, which they'd utilize to stay under the radar in the north, away from Solas' agents eyes and able to track him down because they knew him well (ex-companion/friend/lover)? Like was this idea ever discussed at the table or suggested by writers but trunked for xyz reasons? Idon't know if Trick Weekes will see this but I just wanted to tell them thank you for writing Solas-- in a HEA ending, what do you think they're upto in the prison? (besides the obvious)"

John: "Solas knows more about the Executors than he's let on - in fact, he knows more about the Executors than any other living being, including the other Evanuris (though I suppose they're not technically living beings anymore). But even he isn't entirely sure what they're up to or who they actually are. Their paths have crossed before, though - beyond the Tevinter Nights story that they briefly show up in. As to whether he appears again - I think it's fair to say Solas' story is done, at least for now. Even back in early development, the protagonist for this game was always going to be someone other than the Inquisitor. I don't recall if, in those early days, we ever discussed the possibility of bringing them back - the struggle with having the same protagonist game after game is that you really do paint yourself into a corner. Either it becomes prohibitively expensive to account for branching, or you ultimately underserve the very people you're bringing them back for. Rook was always the protagonist, though in very early days Rook had a number of other potential monikers including Shrike and a number of other bird names that I do not remember."

Q: "Why aren’t the Tranquil ever mentioned or depicted in the game? Correct me if I’m wrong but I’m pretty sure the word tranquil isn’t used even once. Have they been retconned? During development was there ever a conversation about potentially including a Solas wins ending? Where he succeeds in tearing down the Veil either because you let him or because you fail to stop him? I know I’d be curious to see what Thedas would look like afterward."

John: "Tranquility still exists. While not unheard of in Tevinter, the reality is that it's a far more common punishment in Southern Thedas than it ever was in Tevinter. In Tevinter, in particular, it's used more of a tool of political vengeance - but generally, only against a mage who is utterly without allies or political power. All the Tevinter mages you encounter in DATV, including Maevaris, still have some clout and subjecting them to the rite would be a huge expenditure of political capital for very little gain. Better to leave them alive and stripped of their formal authority. We had a few conversations about some non-standard game over endings, actually - anywhere from 'player takes too long in the Prologue' to an out-and-out 'yeah you know what I think I'll help Solas' conversation choice early on. What we released in the game I'm happy with though, as there are already multiple different endings you can get depending on your choices in the game."

Q: "Any chance we're going to get any behind-the-scenes content? I CRAVE a high-quality video clip of Zach doing mocap for Assan."

Corinne: "You never know! We do enjoy sharing new content from the game on our social channels so follow along in case something pops up."

Q: "What was your favourite region/area to work on (whether that be writing quests, level design, or any aspect)?"

Corinne: "For me, it was definitely Arlathan Forest. The team had so much fun with the exploration, the environmental storytelling, and the strange magic manifesting in the area. In particular I remember the first time I saw people that had been twisted into trees showing up in the area, I was taken back by the inventiveness of the team in capturing that beauty in horror. I must say, I also found the sightlines in the area absolutely gorgeous. It was really fun to watch it develop."

Q: "What are these called? [link]"

John: "Tadpoles is the name we use internally."

Q: "are telemetry surprising you in any regard?"

Corinne: "The biggest surprise for me in the telemetry is that the Save Minrathous/Treviso choice is basically split 50/50. We were all anticipating that saving Treviso would be the clear winner, but I'm happy to see it's not so cut and dry."

Q: "Did you ever thought that players would be addicted to having Rook barrel through crates and chests? There should be an Achievement for non stop barrel rolls lol."

Corinne: "Oh 100% yes! In fact, originally wide-spread destructibles weren't really planned for as a part of the game. We found with our particular take on combat that it just felt reaaaally good to smash the few destructibles that we did have. I think I spent the better part of a year putting in constant requests to make more and more things smash and break apart - not to mention the ability to roll through them! I'm glad to see I'm not alone in my obsession. Let's go break things!!"

Q: "1) Was there any plan with Radonis during concept period? 2) What more about Neve's family can you share? 3) Is there a parallel in the way Solas sacrificed the world to restore the elven world and Celene burned Halamshiral to save Orlais from a civil war? (Trick Weekes p l e a s e)"

Corinne: "At one point we did toy with having Radonis make an actual appearance in the game. In fact, if Minrathous falls to the Venatori, we had discussed having his execution on display, but we ultimately chose not to pursue this."

John: "For Neve, I'll have to ask Neve's writer, as I don't recall off the top of my head. For the question about Solas - I think it's less a direct parallel and more that Dragon Age is a series where major players sometimes have to make incredibly difficult decisions that may NOT necessarily be the best decision, but it's the best for them at the time - true for both Solas and Celene."

Q: "I just want to know... do the other companions also think Davrin's a hunk? Do you think there are companions who were rooting for a Rook x Companion romance as it was happening?"

John: "I think the different companions have different relationships with Davrin. Bellara, for example, sees him as almost a big brother - someone who she has a unique connection that she doesn't share with the other companions. Neve sees him as a fellow professional, who hunts monsters in much the same way as she does, just that his monsters are a lot more literal. As for who's rooting for a romance - I think Bellara is just excited whenever people get together. She's a huge romantic and a believer in happy ever after, so she's going to fully support whoever of her friends get together."

Q: "Please humor my newfound Nevarran cuisine obsession - it seems, based on the menu at the Lords of Fortune bar, that Nevarra is majority vegetarian ("want it Nevarran-style? Ask to leave off the meat!" or something like that), and we know Emmrich is a vegetarian. But Emmrich also reveals his father was a poor butcher. So, my questions - Who is eating the meat produced by Nevarran butchers if Nevarra is vegetarian enough that other countries equate Nevarran = veggie? Do butchers largely cater to non-Nevarran immigrants or visitors? Are the Mortalitasi/Mourn Watch entirely vegetarian (would make sense, just because of being put off by being around corpses all day, and their reverence for said corpses)"

John: "While Nevarra is a primarily vegetarian country, that doesn't mean everyone who lives there is a vegetarian. Nevarra attracts plenty of students and scholars from around the world, given its unique connection to the Necropolis and the specific magic tutelage that the Mourn Watch offers. With that in mind, its cuisine is going to be pretty broad across a number of different cultures and regions - and for some of those cuisines, meat is absolutely a very big part of it."

Q: "My biggest question is this: if Solas had been released by Mythal before Inquisition started, would he have let go of his plan? Was service to her all that was motivating him? Or would he have decided to continue with his plan until the inquisition showed him that the modern world mattered?"

John: "The latter, I think. It took the confluence of everything that's happened to him in the time since he woke back up to get him to where he needed to be for the Redeem ending. Guilt and regret motivate Solas."

Q: "When I’m writing, I tend to listen to music that goes along with it. Did any of the Devs have songs they listened to that they felt tied into the game or the characters?"

John: "I can't speak to the other writers necessarily, but for Bellara I listened to a LOT of Aphex Twin. There's something about the ambient weirdness that really worked for me as I was writing her character (to the point that one of their songs is my most listened song in 2024)."

Q: "Are rivalry paths abandoned for Bioware games? What made you design approval/bond in a way that only goes up?"

Corinne: "Oh definitely not! Rivalry will continue to have a role when the story calls for it. In the case of Veilguard, we conceived of this threat being so large, that your companions would commit no matter the cost. This afforded us some unique opportunities, like being able to tie the progression of the Companions to your relationship with them."

Q: "What are you as a team most proud of and are there any plans for a NG+ Update ?"

Corinne: "Gosh, there are so many ways I could answer this. And I think the answer would differ depending on who on the team you were to ask. So let me just say this: The creation of any game of this scope, with a team this large, is kind of miraculous when you consider all the knowledge, coordination, discussion, and expertise required. So broadly speaking, what I'm most proud of is the way the team came together to pivot and be true to BioWare's roots of creating great single-player party-based RPGs, and delivered such quality and stablity. I'm also quite proud of how player-first the effort was; Everything from being Steam native, to no Denuvo, to no micro transactions. We mustn't take for granted what monumental task it was to make this happen. There are individual features and experiences that I know we are all proud of as well. The character creator, for example, was a really big one for us. We've long sought to put the control over player-characters in the hands of the fans, and this is the game where the team believes we've best done that. In fact, it was central to one of our creative pillars "Be who you want to be". As for NG+, that's something we discussed, but at this point we don't have any plans to support it."

Q: "Can you go into more detail of Spite’s role in Rook and Lucanis’s romance? Did you expect everyone to want to romance Vorgoth?"

John: "Spite gives Lucanis and Rook privacy whenever they're being intimate. This was, I'm sure you'll be surprised to hear, a consistent topic of discussion as we planned out some of our romance scenes - is Spite watching? But no, he wanders off and reads a book (or whatever demons do for fun). At this point I am not surprised about anyone y'all want to romance. Sentient fog bank? Sure"

Q: "Looking further, what parts of Thedas you personally want to explore more (regardless if that will or will not be implemented in the future games)? Maybe specific time periods?"

John: "I don't think it's any secret that I find the idea of 'what lies across the sea' to be fascinating. It shows up a lot in Bellara's content - what happened in the parts of the world that weren't Thedas? But Kal-Sharok is another place I'd love to spend more time in. It has a very unique relationship to dwarven culture, and particularly in a post-DATV world, it feels like it'd be super interesting to get more time with them."

Q: "What made you decide to remove greatswords as an option? It's one of The fantasy weapons. Why did you choose to have a "convergent" design, gameplay wise, of classes? What i mean is that all classes have a melee option, a "parry" of sorts, amd a ranged option, with warriors throwing a nonexistent shield when 2h. Usually, in an rpg, different classes have different capabilities and limits, to make them feel more diverse. What made you choose otherwise?"

Corinne: "Originally when we concieved the 2-handed weapon stance for Warrior we did want to include Greatswords. We moved away from it largely because the movement set when swinging a large blade diverges quite a bit from what you'd see with an axe or a hammer. Ultimately we felt, given the number of bespoke animations and transitions it would take, that the time is better invested in other areas of the experience. Regarding the classes, we opted for a unified control scheme and baseline set of actions each could take (e.g. every class having a ranged attack for example) for several reasons: 1. In knowing that each class has a similar core set of actions, it allowed to better design the encounters, levels, and missions with a greater level of variety. If Warrior, for example, had no ranged attack, a large number of the missions would have much more egregious constraints on what we expect the player to do. 2. It allowed us significantly more space to play with the types of builds and breath of the skill tree. We're all very proud of how this played out in practice, and in our view created a high degree of divergence. 3. Given the real-time nature of the gameplay, it's a benefit to lean into the muscle memory the players have already established on prior playthroughs"

Q: "Hi I'm non-binary and the ability to be non-binary in this game was really special and made me feel seen in a way no game has before. In addition---TAASH! "NUFF SAID. Love em! My question is: how did you get so much past censors in 2024? How did you deal with localization? Was EA supportive of the push for more representation? Do you think we can see more diverse companions like Taash and our own player character in the future in Bioware games? I am a little worried about the backlash to Taash and the player character, especially right now. It is scary to think about going backwards after you've just achieved this amazing thing for video games. Thank you so much for making me feel so loved playing a video game, this game gives me so much hope and joy for being a trans gamer and nerd and person. I know there's a lot of hate but for me it means the world."

Corinne: "I'm so glad Taash meant so much to you, and so many others! There are two mantras we often refer to within the team: 1. We believe stories are better when they reflect a large variety of relatable experiences. 2. Games can be a reflection of the teams that make them. Taash's journey and support we had in bringing it to life, was something everyone on the team wanted to do and was invested in. It was a story and experience we wanted to tell that made sense in this time and place. I wont lie, it wasn't easy. This is a delicate subject, deserving of respect, that is deeply personal to so many. We didn't want to mess it up, especially for those it would mean the most to. We were fortunate to have a lot of support through internal and external partners to ensure we were handling this story with care, and of course the talented writing and experience of Trick Weekes. It lead to a lot of edits, localization challenges, and some rewrites. But as the old adage goes, nothing worth having comes easy."

Q: "If Solas is bald because the ancient elves just go bald during their immortal lifespans, then why does Elgar’nan have hair?"

John: "I think maybe it's more accurate to say that Solas lost hair because of stress. Elgar'nan, on the other hand, doesn't feel stress - he makes other people feel stress. And, honestly, Elgar'nan is incredibly vain. Something that doesn't show up until the end game is that he's also very vain. The reason he doesn't look blighted and corrupted throughout the game is he uses a portion of his magic to remain looking the way he does."

Q: "In the DAI trespasser DLC elves saw the crossroads different from the other races. Why was that not the case in this game?"

John: "The Caretaker gets into it a little bit, but while the Crossroads in Trespasser were 'peaceful', the Crossroads in DATV are under assault by the gods."

Q: "If you could start DAI or DATV again, what would you change/add/remove? Could you share with us the most emotionally difficult moment to achieve in DATV? And the easiest? Favorite moment?"

Corinne: "One of the most difficult moments to land was actually the prologue. It sets up a lot of context for the player, and evokes a lot of big feelings. We did many revisions on it before we found the right balance of pacing, information, and tension. In my experience, prologues always are among your most reworked content"

John: "Absolutely the Varric twist. There's always a balance of trying to leave hints for the players while not having them guess the ultimate end game of it, and it's INCREDIBLY hard to make that judgment yourself, because you KNOW what's coming, and all you can see is 'how could anyone NOT get that this is coming?' But I'm happy with how it was received and how it landed. The actual conversation with Varric at the end, though - that one was a gut punch."

Q: "So… does Bianca know?"

John: "Yeah. Harding would have gotten word to her."

Q: "I'm curious to know two things, both Solas related: -What happened to his followers? Presumably they weren't /just/ following him and were on board with the revolution that he represented. -What was his plan past making a new prison and transferring the two Evanuris? It sounds like still an eventual tearing down of the Veil but how was he actually mitigating the risks across Thedas? (Presumably with that network of followers)"

John: "Essentially that. Keep the Evanuris imprisoned, tear down the Veil, and then Solas was CERTAIN everything would get better, even if some people had to, tragically, die. One of Solas' defining characteristics, of course, is that he overestimates how successful his plans are going to be (if you listen carefully to the argument between Solas and Varric in the prologue, Varric makes this exact point - everything Solas has tried ended in disaster, so why wouldn't this as well?) As to mitigating the risks - he had a few things going on, but as to how effective they would've been, I think it's safe to say that it wouldn't have worked as well as he'd hoped."

Conclusion: "We've answered everything we can for now, thank you all so much for your questions and the love for Dragon Age!"

[source]

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wholoveseggs · 1 month ago

Note

Hey girly, my favorite fic of yours is “Madness” I absolutely adore jealous Elijah(and all my boys for that matter) I would like to request something smutty were reader is making Elijah jealous and than he demands to be shown some respect *wink* *wink*. I know you wrote a few fics like this but I L O V E that trope and I would like to see more if you have any ideas.

thankssss in advance, sending lots of hugs to you 🫶🏻

Chaos

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} A punk-themed night out with the Mikaelsons reveals a side of Elijah you’ve never seen before... and a chance to push boundaries neither of you ever expected.

♡♡ Hello darling @hiddledede-heddlededo!! I adore exploring Elijah's wild, dominant side… so why not throw him into a setting that lets him fully unleash it?? ~ ♡♡

7.8k words - Warnings: smutt, Kol being a flirt, Klaus rocking a mohawk, Rebekah is only going so she can snack on a punk rocker, Elijah taking what he wants, mosh-pits, dom!Elijah, oral sex (f!receiving), little but of butt stuff (also f!receiving), a dash of sir kink, riding, blood drinking, commanding Elijah && lots of punk / metal vibes ...

I'll be tagging ya'll in the comments from now on... because tumblr is not built for tagging lots of users... if you want off the tag list just shoot me a DM!!! (I won't be offended ~xo)

The compound was alive with chaos. Heavy guitar riffs and screaming vocals blasted through the speakers, shaking the walls as you carefully applied your eyeliner at Rebekah's vanity. The faint scent of whiskey lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of nail polish and the distinct musk of leather jackets piled in the corner.

Rebekah was rifling through her closet, tossing clothes haphazardly over her shoulder in search of something remotely punk or goth. A pair of fishnets flew through the air and landed on the bed.

"Rebekah, what are you doing?" you asked, pausing to set the eyeliner down and stand up.

"I can't find anything!" she wailed, slamming the closet doors shut with an air of theatrical defeat.

"Don't worry," you said, picking up the fishnets and smoothing them out with a small laugh. "I have a dress for you that matches the theme perfectly. But you should definitely wear these. They're sexy."

Rebekah snatched them up with a dramatic sigh of relief. "Thank you, darling. You're a lifesaver."

"Of course," you replied, flashing her a quick smile before turning back to the vanity. You picked through her cluttered makeup stash. "Do you have any dark lipstick? Deep red or black would be perfect."

Rebekah nodded, rummaging through a pile of scattered tubes as Kol came bursting through the door. He was a sight to behold. Decked out in all black, with ripped jeans, spiked bracelets glinting on his wrists, and combat boots that looked like they could survive a war. In one hand, he balanced a bottle of bourbon, while the other clutched a portable speaker blaring screeching guitar riffs.

"Are you ready?" he asked, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Almost. We're still deciding on outfits," you replied, laughing as he flung himself onto Rebekah's bed like a rockstar who'd just survived a long set.

Kol took a swig from the bourbon before offering it to you. "Liquid courage, darling?"

You hesitated for only a second before taking the bottle, pretending his playful charm wasn’t contagious. "Thanks, Kol," you said, the burn of the whiskey warming your throat.

He leaned back, plucking the eyeliner pencil you’d left on the vanity and spinning it between his fingers. "I remember when ladies used to color their eyes with coal and berries. Fashion has certainly changed," he mused, his tone light but teasing.

"Want to try it?" you asked.

"Why not?" Kol grinned mischievously.

You stepped closer, grabbing his chin gently. As you leaned in to line his eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh at the boyish excitement glinting in his dark irises. You tried to push thoughts of someone else’s dark, brooding gaze out of your mind.

As you finished lining Kol’s eyes, you smudged the edges just enough to give him a grungy, rebellious look. He turned to the mirror, tilting his head this way and that before flashing you a devilish grin.

"I must say, you’ve outdone yourself, darling," he said, striking a dramatic pose. "Do I look devastatingly handsome? Or perhaps... devastatingly misunderstood?"

"You look ridiculous," you said, laughing as you swatted his arm. "But it’s perfect for tonight."

Kol leaned back on the bed, his grin turning wicked. "Speaking of tonight, are you hoping to catch anyone’s eye? Or just hoping a certain someone finally notices how ravishing you look?"

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, don’t play coy with me," Kol said, wagging a finger. "You know exactly who I mean. A certain noble brother of mine who prefers brooding in corners over having any fun."

Your cheeks burned, and you turned back to the vanity, pretending to busy yourself with your makeup. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Kol let out a bark of laughter, swinging his legs off the bed and walking over to lean against the vanity beside you. "Come now, love. I see the way you look at Elijah… Like he hung the stars themselves. It’s positively nauseating."

You shot him a glare through the mirror. "Kol, drop it."

"Why should I?" he asked with a wicked grin. "It’s not like you’re being subtle about it. Though, I’ll admit, my dear brother could use someone to rattle that insufferable composure of his."

Rebekah breezed into the room, holding up a slinky black silk dress. "This the one you were talking about?"

You nodded, relieved for the distraction. "Yep. That one will look killer."

"Fantastic." She smiled, grabbing the bourbon from Kol and taking a swig.

You grabbed the black fishnet top and red leather mini skirt from the bed and held them up. "Kol, if you’re going to hang around, at least turn around while I change."

He smirked, raising his hands in mock surrender. "As you wish, my modest little dove," He spun on his heel, facing the wall.

You rolled your eyes and disappeared into the walk-in closet. Once you were safely inside, you pressed your forehead against the wall, a groan escaping your lips. Of all the people to notice your attraction to Elijah, why did it have to be Kol?

You slipped off your shirt, replacing it with the fishnet top. The sheer fabric clung to your skin, and the bra underneath added just the right amount of daring to the look. As you wiggled into the red leather mini skirt, Kol’s voice broke through your focus.

"Elijah, though," he mused aloud, clearly unable to keep quiet. "He’d probably combust at the sight of you in a skirt like that. All that decorum? Poof. Gone."

You rolled your eyes, listening to Rebekah giggle as you tugged your skirt into place, the material hugging your hips snugly. "Kol, do you ever shut up?"

"Not when there’s fun to be had," he quipped. "Though, if I’m being honest, I might have to lend Elijah a hand tonight. He could use the push."

You groaned, reaching for your knee-high black boots. "Kol, whatever you’re scheming, just stop. Please."

"Darling, I would never scheme," he said, the exaggerated indignation in his voice making it clear he was lying.

After zipping up the boots and smoothing down your skirt, you turned toward him. "Alright, you can look now."

Kol spun around, and his eyes swept over you with a dramatic flourish. He let out a low whistle, his grin widening. "Well, well. Someone looks ravishing. Don't you think, sister?"

"Oh, yes." Rebekah laughed. "That outfit is positively sinful."

"I don't know," you said, biting back a smirk. "Do you think it's too much?"

Kol’s grin softened into something almost mischievously kind. "Darling, let me give you some advice: Elijah may act like he’s above all this chaos, but trust me, he notices. And he cares more than you think."

You frowned, checking yourself out one last time in the mirror, fiddling with a tube of lipstick. "He doesn’t even like this kind of thing. We have nothing in common, Kol. Why would he ever-"

"Please," Kol interrupted, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Elijah is the king of pretending not to care while secretly caring far too much. The trick is pulling him out of his little bubble. Tonight, my dear, you’ve got the perfect opportunity."

Your heart fluttered at the thought, but you quickly shoved it down. "Kol, you’re ridiculous."

"And you’re in denial," he shot back, winking as he plucked the lipstick from your hands and held it up. "Now, are we going with the deep red or black? Because trust me, Elijah won’t be able to take his eyes off you either way."

You snatched the lipstick back with a huff, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re smitten," Kol said, his grin widening. "Now hurry up, or we’ll be late for the party. I have a reputation to uphold, after all."

As he sauntered out of the room, the sound of his laughter trailing behind him, you let out a shaky breath. Maybe Kol was right. Maybe tonight wasn’t just about wild music and dancing. Maybe it was your chance to show Elijah a side of yourself he’d never noticed before.

The thought sent a thrill through you, and you turned back to the mirror with renewed determination.

"Deep red it is," you murmured to yourself, a small smile playing on your lips.

You and Rebekah sat on the plush couch in the living room, passing a half-empty bottle of whiskey back and forth as the pounding music from Kol’s speaker vibrated through the walls. The anticipation of the night buzzed in the air, matching the light, happy buzz from the alcohol warming your veins.

"I cannot wait for tonight," Rebekah said, leaning back against the couch, her fishnet-clad legs stretched out in front of her. "It’s been ages since we’ve gone out like this."

You nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I can't remember the last time I went to a real party," you admitted.

The heavy thud of boots descending the stairs announced the arrival of Kol and Klaus. They entered the room like they were walking onto a stage, heads held high and swaggering grins on their faces. Klaus had his hair gelled up into a perfect mohawk. He was dressed in ripped jeans, chains, and a leather jacket adorned with pins. "How do I look?" he asked, spreading his arms wide.

"Ridiculous," Kol replied, but the pride shining in his eyes was undeniable.

Rebekah laughed, rising to her feet and twirling in a circle. Her black dress clung to her body, leaving little to the imagination, and the fishnets underneath made her legs look a mile long. "Well, what about me?"

"These headbangers will eat you alive," Klaus said, winking as he tossed her a leather jacket.

She caught it with ease, slipping it on and grinning at her brothers. "I plan on eating them, actually," she purred.

Kol flopped onto the couch beside you, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "What’s this? Are you two already tipsy? We haven’t even left yet!"

"Don’t worry about us," Rebekah said with a smirk. "We can handle ourselves better than you."

Kol opened his mouth to retort, but the conversation was cut short by the sound of Elijah clearing his throat from the doorway. The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at him.

Elijah stood there, his usual tailored suit in place, his tie perfectly knotted. His brow furrowed slightly as his gaze swept across the group, lingering briefly on Klaus’s mohawk, Kol’s eyeliner, and finally, the whiskey bottle in your hand.

"Well," he said, folding his arms, "I see you’ve all fully embraced the theme."

Klaus shrugged, tossing a casual grin in his brother's direction. "We’ve got to blend in, don’t we? Showing up out of place wouldn’t do."

"Of course," Elijah replied, his eyes never leaving yours. Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, and you took a quick sip from the bottle, hoping the alcohol would calm your racing heart.

"You should come with us, Elijah," Kol said, flashing a mischievous grin.

"Absolutely not," Elijah replied without hesitation, his tone calm but firm. His gaze shifted to Klaus’s mohawk, a flicker of disapproval crossing his features. "I think it’s clear I’m not suited for... whatever this is."

Kol clapped a hand over his chest in mock offense. "Oh, come now, brother. Where’s your sense of adventure? A little music, a little chaos. It might even loosen that tie of yours."

Elijah’s expression didn’t change, and he didn't miss a beat as he responded, "No, thank you."

You felt a pang of disappointment as his eyes moved away from you. He wasn't interested. Of course he wasn't. You took another sip of whiskey, trying not to dwell on the sting.

"Fine, if that's what you really want," Kol said, shrugging as he rose from the couch. He reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet, a teasing smile on his lips. "The rest of us are off to find trouble. If you change your mind, you're welcome to join."

Klaus and Rebekah fell into step behind him as the four of you made your way toward the door. You paused briefly, looking back at Elijah. Your eyes met for a brief moment, and his expression softened slightly. He gave you a small, reassuring smile, and a spark of hope flared inside you.

Maybe Kol was right. Maybe you just needed to give him a reason. You stopped in the doorway, turning back to face him, a flurry of emotions swirling in your chest.

"It won't be the same without you," you said softly.

Elijah looked at you for a long moment, his expression shifting from conflict to quiet resolve. He sighed, stepping toward you, and his voice was soft when he spoke, "Perhaps a night out wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"That's the spirit!" Kol cheered, his grin widening.

Elijah rolled his eyes, but you could see the small, affectionate smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He glanced down at your outfit, his gaze sweeping across you. You felt heat rise to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but smile as his eyes met yours.

Elijah’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before looking away. He cleared his throat and straightened, the composed mask slipping back into place. "If I’m to join you, I should dress appropriately," he said, his tone carrying its usual calm authority.

"Meet us outside when you're ready," Kol called as Elijah disappeared up the stairs.

"Wonder what he'll come up with," Klaus said, an amused smirk curling his lips.

"An all black suit?" Rebekah mused, her lips twisting into a playful grin.

"A turtleneck and sunglasses?" Klaus added, chuckling at the image.

Minutes later, Elijah came strolling out of the compound wearing a long sleeve black shirt, dark jeans and black leather jacket. His hair was still slicked back, but there was a slight messiness to it. As if he'd ruffled his fingers through his hair, but still wanted to maintain some level of control.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning to face the group.

Klaus let out a snort of amusement. "You look almost... approachable. It’s unsettling."

You walked over to Elijah, feeling a small spark of bravery as you reached up and messed up his hair a bit more, causing it to fall into his eyes. "There. Now you're perfect," you said with a soft smile.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling. "Perfect for what?"

You shrugged. "Whatever you want," you replied.

His gaze drifted over your face, landing on your lips. You swallowed, suddenly aware of how close you were standing. You could smell the faint scent of his cologne, see the soft stubble along his jaw, feel the warmth radiating off his body. You were tempted to reach out and touch him, but you pulled back instead.

"So, are we ready?" Kol asked, breaking the tension.

You stepped back from Elijah, your heart racing. "Definitely."

The party was held in a massive warehouse, its towering ceilings lost in shadow and its walls covered in glowing graffiti under blacklights. Purple and blue lights flickered in rhythm with the pounding music, casting the packed crowd into a surreal, shifting glow. The scent of sweat and alcohol lingered in the air, mingling with the haze of fog and cigarette smoke.

Kol was a force of nature, pushing through the throng and carving a path to the center of the floor. He turned to face you and the others, raising his voice over the roar of the crowd. "What do you say? Shall we make our presence known?"

You nodded and let him drag you forward, laughing as the music grew louder and the bodies closed around you. Soon, you were swept up in the chaos. Your heart pounded in time with the bass, the rhythm coursing through your veins.

Elijah watched you disappear into the crowd, he let out a sigh.

"Having second thoughts, brother?" Klaus asked, a teasing smirk on his lips.

"Something like that," Elijah muttered, his gaze sweeping across the room. Everyone was slamming into each other, acting animalistic as they moved to whatever chaotic, screaming vocals were currently blasting through the speakers. He didn't understand how anyone could enjoy something like this.

Rebekah looped her arm through his and tugged him toward the makeshift bar. "Come on. I'm sure we can find a drink to your liking," she said, dragging him along.

Elijah let out a huff, allowing himself to be dragged across the room.

Rebekah's smile widened as she flagged down the bartender. "Two shots, please."

Elijah looked up at the rafters above them, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. "What exactly are we drinking?"

"Tequila," Rebekah said, placing two shot glasses on the counter. She picked one up, and held it out to him. "Bottoms up."

Elijah let out a resigned sigh and reached for the glass. "Fine. Bottoms up," he said, tapping his glass against hers.

The liquor burned his throat, but it did nothing to loosen the tension in his body. He felt the weight of a dozen gazes on him, the whispers and stares following him wherever he went.

"This place is crawling with vampires," he murmured, scanning the room.

"I know," Rebekah said, tossing back the last of her whiskey. "You worried for our human friend? Because you know she's safe as long as we're around."

Elijah glanced in the direction where he'd last seen you, and found the spot empty. A twinge of worry ran through him, and he leaned forward, raising his voice. "Where is she?"

"Relax," Rebekah said, laughing. "She's with Kol, he won't let anything happen to her."

Elijah felt his jaw tense. The thought of you being alone with Kol, in this crowd, filled him with a mixture of apprehension and jealousy. He shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter? Worried about Kol? Or is there someone else on your mind?"

Elijah looked at her sharply. "No. Why would you say that?"

"Because you want her all to yourself," Klaus chimed in, ordering two drinks. One for himself and one for a heavily tattooed blonde that had been eyeing him for the past five minutes.

"I do not," Elijah insisted.

Rebekah scoffed. "Sure, keep telling yourself that. Just admit it, you like her. That's why you came tonight."

"I came because Kol was relentless and I had no choice," Elijah snapped.

Klaus snorted, turning to his sister. "What Elijah really means to say is 'I can't let Kol steal the girl I'm so obviously in love with,'" he said.

"I am not in love with anyone," Elijah insisted, ignoring the fact that his eyes were still searching for you in the crowd.

"Right," Klaus said, a smug smirk curling his lips. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Why don't you just tell her how you feel? Unless, of course, you're afraid she'll reject you. I wouldn't blame her. Who would ever want a boring stick-in-the-mud like you?"

Elijah gave Klaus a look that could have frozen hell, but his brother simply laughed, winking at the tattooed blonde.

"What do you think darling? Should my brother try his luck or continue to pine from a distance?" Klaus asked the blonde.

She leaned over the bar, her gaze sweeping over him. "I say he should try his luck," she purred, her fingers playing with the edge of Klaus' leather jacket. "But he looks too uptight. A few drinks might loosen him up."

"I am not uptight," Elijah protested, his eyes narrowing.

Klaus grinned, pulling the blonde closer. "Maybe we should show him how it's done," he murmured.

"I think that's a great idea," she said, her lips inches from his.

Elijah rolled his eyes, looking away from them as they started to make out. Rebekah let out a laugh and grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the dance floor.

"Yuck, let's get out of here," she said, weaving through the crowd.

He allowed himself to be dragged across the floor, his gaze landing on a familiar figure. You were dancing with Kol, your hands in the air, hips swaying to the music. Elijah couldn't look away.

Kol leaned in and said something to you. You laughed, shaking your head. Elijah felt a rush of envy, the sensation foreign and uncomfortable. Kol's hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't resist, a small smile playing on your lips. Elijah gritted his teeth.

"Looks like Kol has stolen your girl," Rebekah said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

"She's not mine," Elijah replied, his eyes fixed on the pair.

Kol pulled you closer, his lips brushing your ear. The music changed, and the tempo increased, the lights flashing faster. The press of bodies forcing you closer together and Elijah lost sight of you. He could feel his temper rising, a strange sense of possessiveness overcoming him.

Rebekah smirked, shaking her head. "Go. Show her you can be fun, too," she said, giving him a nudge.

He hesitated, torn between his own anxieties and desire.Perhaps it was time to step out of his comfort zone, time to take a risk. Elijah swallowed, steeling his nerves. He could do this. He could show you that he wasn't some stuffy, uptight, boring old vampire. That he would fit in at a place like this.

Elijah looked back at his sister, who now had her arms wrapped around the neck of a man who had more pericings than skin. She was whispering something in his ear, and a grin spread across his face. She flashed Elijah a wink before vanishing into the crowd with the pierced man. It seemed everyone was getting a taste of the party tonight. Everyone but him.

The song changed, a pulsing beat thudding through the speakers. He caught sight of you and Kol just as the crowd surged, everyone around him began to thrash and he realised he was in the midst of a mosh pit.

His senses were overwhelmed, the press of bodies, the screaming music, the flashing lights. His instinct was to fight his way free, but the urge to see you, to have you see him, was stronger. He gritted his teeth and pushed forward, ignoring the elbows that collided with his ribs, the fists that struck his shoulder, the shoves and kicks from all sides. The chaos, the strobing lights, the deafening music, all of it swirled around him as he pressed on.

He saw you, a few feet away, your back pressed against Kol's chest, your arms in the air, head tilted back. A flash of heat rushed through him, and he pushed harder, shoving past the crowd. Kol saw him coming first, and he smiled, keeping his eyes on Elijah as he kissed your neck.

You let out a gasp, twisting to look at Kol. You were laughing, pushing on his chest. Elijah was close enough to hear your words. "You're an ass!"

"Oh, come on," Kol teased, his arms still tight around your waist. "Don't pretend you don't like it."

Your face was flushed, and you opened your mouth to respond, but the words died on your lips when you spotted Elijah. He stood a few feet away, his expression a mixture of anger and concern. Your gaze drifted over him, taking in his ruffled hair, his dark, smoldering eyes, the way his leather jacket hugged his muscular frame.

Kol's grin widened. "See something you like?" he purred, his voice carrying a teasing note.

Elijah ignored him, his eyes locked on yours. The tempo surged, bodies colliding in wild abandon. A rush of adrenaline flooded Elijah’s senses, and before he could second-guess himself, he reached for your hand. His grip was firm, but his touch sent an unexpected jolt through you, grounding you in the chaos.

"Elijah?" you called over the music, your voice laced with surprise.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you into the fray, his movements uncharacteristically reckless. The crowd surged around you, a wave of bodies slamming and thrashing, and for a moment, you thought he might pull you free of it. But instead, Elijah stayed, his grip on your hand steady as he moved with you, matching the rhythm of the music.

Your laughter rang out as you realized what he was doing. Elijah Mikaelson. Always composed. Always in control….Was letting go. He moved with you, his usually precise steps turning wild as the music took over. The press of the crowd pushed you closer together, the heat of his body mingling with the fevered energy of the room.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but at some point, his hands found your waist. He steadied you as the pit surged again, his strength grounding you as you danced together, the frenzy building with each beat. His touch burned through the thin fabric of your top, and when you looked up, his eyes locked with yours.

The chaos seemed to dissolve into nothingness, the lights and music fading to a distant echo as the world narrowed to the two of you. You were breathing hard, your heart pounding, and you wondered if he could hear it, feel it.

As if sensing your thoughts, his hand moved from your waist to the base of your neck. His touch was gentle but firm as he pulled your mouth to his. The kiss was searing, a jolt of heat and desire rushing through you. He tasted of tequila and sin, his lips soft but demanding.

Your hands moved to his chest, the fabric of his shirt warm under your touch. You pressed closer, losing yourself in the kiss. The world blurred at the edges, but for the first time that night, you felt entirely clear.

When the kiss broke, the roar of the crowd and the chaos came rushing back. Elijah's chest was heaving, his breath hot against your cheek. Your hands slid down his arms, your fingers tangling with his. He lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting yours. You were both flushed and breathless, the weight of the moment hanging heavy between you.

The song changed, and someone behind him slammed into his back, shoving him against you. Your mouths met again, the kiss hungry and desperate, a need rising between the two of you. He pushed you backwards until you felt the cool, rough concrete against your back. His hand cradled the back of your head as his tongue traced the seam of your lips.

"Elijah," you moaned, parting your lips to let him in, your hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned, the sound deep and primal, vibrating out of him and into you. You kissed him back, pouring every ounce of longing and need into it, until you were both breathless.

When you finally broke apart, your eyes were wide, your lips swollen and red. You couldn't speak, the intensity of the moment rendering you speechless.

Elijah's hands lingered on your hips, his gaze holding yours. "Do you want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

You swallowed, your heart pounding, and nodded. "Yes," you breathed, a slow, nervous smile spreading across your lips.

His hands tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. There was a flicker of hunger in his eyes, but it was tempered by something softer, more tender. He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. "Let's go home."

The two of you stumbled out of the warehouse, Elijah's hand gripping yours tightly. You couldn't stop smiling, the night still swirling in a haze around you. You passed Kol, who was surrounded by two women and a man, all of whom were practically drooling over him. He flashed you a wink as the four of them made their way to a dark corner.

The night air was a relief after the stifling heat of the warehouse, steam rising from your skin as you made your way down the street. You walked side-by-side, shoulders brushing, the silence between you thick with anticipation. You stole a glance at Elijah, his profile sharp in the glow of the streetlamps, and you felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach. You couldn't wait to see where the night would take you.

As the door to Elijah's room clicked shut, a sense of apprehension and nervousness fell over you. You'd never been in his room before, and the thought of being alone with him filled you with a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension.

You glanced around, taking in the neatly organized bookshelves, the leather couch and the large bed. Not a speck of dust, not a single sock or shirt lying about. You had expected nothing less from him.

You walked over to his bed, running your fingers across the smooth, soft comforter. Elijah stood a few feet away, watching you, his hands resting loosely at his sides, nervously twitching as he tried to maintain his composure.

"Are you alright?" you asked, turning to face him.

He nodded, swallowing. "I'm fine," he replied, his tone flat.

You could see the tension in his shoulders, the slight furrow of his brow, the way his jaw was clenched. He was nervous, you realized. Nervous about being alone with you, about crossing this invisible line between friends and... whatever this was.

You stepped toward him, placing a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly. "Elijah," you said softly.

His eyes met yours, the uncertainty clear in their dark depths. You gave him a reassuring smile, letting your hand slide up his chest, until it rested against his neck. You could feel the muscles there tighten, the slight tremor that ran through him as you leaned in.

Your lips brushed his, a whisper of a kiss, and then his mouth was on yours, the kiss deep and intense. He guided you over to his couch, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. Your legs straddled him, and his hands ran along the smooth expanse of your thighs, gripping your hips as the kiss intensified.

A low, rumbling growl rose up in his chest, his desire for you clear in the way his lips claimed yours, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, the way his fingers dug into your soft skin. You always suspected he had it in him, a wild, rough passion that lay beneath the cool exterior. Now, as his hands roamed over your body, as his teeth nipped at your bottom lip, you knew it was true.

You wanted him to know that you liked it. You wanted him to know that he could be rough, that you would never break. That you could take everything he had to give.

"Don't hold back," you whispered against his lips.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching yours. "Are you sure?"

"I trust you," you murmured, your hand cupping his face.

"I could hurt you," he breathed, his voice strained.

You smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "You won't."

He studied you for a moment, and then a mischievous smirk curled his lips. He reached down, hooking his arms under your legs and standing. You let out a yelp of surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you over to the bed.

He placed you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt a thrill run through you, anticipation coiling in the pit of your stomach. You watched as he stripped off his shirt, tossing it aside. You drank in the sight of his toned torso, the light sheen of sweat glistening across his chest, the flex of his muscles as he leaned down, his lips finding yours again.

"Stay here, just like this. I'll be right back," he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Where are you going?" you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Trust me, it will be worth it," he said, giving you a wink before slipping out of the room.

You settled back against the pillows, closing your eyes. Your mind was racing, replaying the events of the night, at first Kol's attempt at seduction and then Elijah's. A slow, content smile spread across your face. You could certainly get used to this.

A few moments later, you heard the door open and close. You opened your eyes, sitting up. Elijah had Kol's portable speaker in one hand and his phone in the other. You raised an eyebrow at him, confused.

"What are you doing?" you asked, watching as he set the speaker on the bedside table.

"Music," he replied, a playful grin tugging at his lips. He tapped the screen and a loud metal song began to play. "I confess, I've become a bit of a fan."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, amused.

He nodded, moving towards you. He climbed onto the bed, crawling up your body until he was hovering over you. "Mmhmm," he murmured, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. "It has a certain appeal. It's raw... primal. Much like what I'd like to do to you right now."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly. Your fingers threaded into his hair, bringing his mouth to yours. The kiss was rough, his lips and tongue demanding, his hands sliding under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and over your head. He tossed the shirt aside, his mouth moving to your neck, kissing and biting, leaving a trail of marks across your collarbone.

"Are you going to be my good girl?" he purred, his breath hot against your skin.

You moaned, arching into him. "Yes," you gasped, your fingers gripping his hair.

"Yes, what?" he asked, nipping at your jaw.

"Yes, sir," you breathed, your mind reeling at the newfound authority in his tone.

"Good," he murmured, his hands moving to your thighs. He pushed your skirt up, bunching the fabric around your waist. He groaned, his gaze drinking in the sight of your panties. "Such a pretty, little, soaked, innocent thing," he murmured.

You swallowed, a flush creeping up your cheeks. He looked up at you, his gaze intense, a hint of a smirk curling his lips. He moved down your body, his mouth pressing a line of hot, wet kisses across your abdomen, his fingers tracing circles on the insides of your thighs.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he said, his voice rough with need.

You felt the heat of his breath against the fabric of your panties, and you shifted, lifting your hips, a soft whimper escaping your lips. You felt him smirk against your thigh, his hands hooking under your legs and gripping your hips, his fingertips digging into the flesh.

He pulled your panties down, tossing them aside. You heard the music change, a deep, thrumming beat filling the room, a bass-heavy song that you knew well. Elijah grinned, his tongue dragging along your slit, his gaze locking with yours. You gasped, your hips bucking against his mouth. He chuckled, the sound sending a rush of heat through you.

"Fuck," you moaned, your fingers threading into his hair.

He hummed, his tongue delving deeper, lapping at the slickness of your arousal, his fingers digging into your hips. You arched into him, panting, lost in the sensation of his mouth on you, his tongue working expertly. He sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

The song changed again, and he pulled back slightly, his mouth glistening with your arousal. He smirked, his thumb pressing against your swollen, aching clit. You let out a breathy moan, writhing beneath him.

"Do you like that, sweetheart?" he purred, rubbing small, slow circles around the sensitive bud.

You bit your lip, nodding. "Y-yes," you stammered.

"Good girl," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now, come sit on my lap," he ordered.

You blinked, taken aback. You had no idea he was into this kind of thing, and you had to admit, it was a pleasant surprise. You watched as he sat back, unbuckling his belt, his cock straining against his pants. He undid the button and zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down just enough to free his erection.

You swallowed, staring at his impressive length. He smirked, his gaze fixed on yours as he gestured for you to join him. You moved towards him, and he gripped your arm, his grip firm but not painful, pulling you onto his lap, your knees on either side of his thighs.

You let out a shaky breath, bracing your hands on his shoulders. He smiled, his hands coming to rest on your hips. "Where has that wild thing from the mosh pit gone, hm?" he murmured, a hint of challenge in his voice.

You swallowed, your face warm. "Right here," you replied, rolling your hips, rubbing yourself along the length of his cock.

He groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "Show me," he growled, his dark eyes flashing with hunger.

You shifted, reaching between the two of you and grasping his length. He let out a sharp hiss as you lined him up with your entrance, sinking down, taking him inch by inch, until you were fully seated. You both groaned, your forehead resting against his, your hands gripping his shoulders.

He took in the sight of your tits spilling from the low-cut bra you wore, the music playing, the sweat glistening on your skin. Something primal rose up in him. He gripped your hips, pulling you up and then slamming you back down, using his strength to set the pace. You moaned, your walls fluttering around him, his mouth pressed against your pulse, nipping at the delicate skin of your neck.

His grip was tight, his fingers bruising, and you found yourself wondering what he would think if you asked him to hold you down. To pin you under him and have his wicked way with you. If he would think less of you. Or perhaps if that's something he enjoyed, a new revelation to discover together.

Your slick began dripping down onto his balls, making you feel wet and messy. You could barely breathe, and you felt as though your entire body was on fire. You couldn't hold yourself back anymore, and a pathetic little cry escaped you.

Elijah's hands squeezed your ass, and he pulled you closer to him, so that his chest was pressed against yours.

"Look at me." He whispered, his lips brushing over your ear.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you stared into his deep, dark eyes. He smiled, his hands sliding up your back. He unclasped your bra, tugging the straps off your arms, tossing the bra aside. His lips immediately latched onto one of your breasts, his tongue swirling around the nipple.

The song changed again, the drumbeat surging around you, your hips moving to the rhythm. You cried out, throwing your head back as an orgasm began to build low in your belly, your walls tightening around his cock.

"Fuck," you cursed, clinging to him, your hips rocking desperately. You were close, the pressure mounting, your legs trembling. He growled, his lips still at your breast, his teeth grazing your nipple.

"You're not allowed to come, sweetheart. Not yet. I decide when," he groaned, his voice low and commanding.

A whine escaped you, your nails digging into his shoulder blades, a mixture of pleasure and frustration welling up within you. He smirked, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, nipping at your bottom lip. He licked the salt from your skin, his hands grasping the globes of your ass, guiding your movement, setting a slow, deliberate pace.

One of his hands moved between your cheeks, his fingers teasing your puckered hole. You let out a soft moan, and he smiled, watching your face contort in pleasure.

"Does that feel good, darling?" he asked, his tone gentle.

You nodded, unable to speak, your whole body tingling. This dominant side of him was something you'd only imagined in your wildest dreams, but even then, it seemed to pale in comparison. He was everything you'd hoped for and more.

He hummed, pushing a finger into you, pumping it slowly. You let out a desperate gasp, burying your face against his shoulder, grinding into his finger. Your breath was coming fast and shallow, your heart racing, and you realized you were dangerously close to the edge.

"Elijah," you whimpered, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, your toes curling.

"Hmm?" he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.

"Please, please, please, I can't- I'm gonna-" you babbled, your whole body shuddering.

He shushed you, kissing the top of your head. "It's okay, just try and hold on a little longer," he murmured.

You shook your head, unable to form a coherent thought. You were so wound up, the pleasure crashing over you in waves. All you could focus on was the feeling of his finger and cock, stretching you, filling you. You needed more.

Suddenly, he thrust into you, deeply and slowly, dragging himself out. It was maddening. You clenched around him, arching your back, moaning into his ear. He chuckled, repeating the motion, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. The music surged around you, the bass beating in time with your racing heart.

"E-Elijaah!" you cried, your walls fluttering around his length.

He chuckled at your desperation, his lips ghosting over your own, nipping at your bottom lip. "That's my girl," he murmured.

You moaned, his tongue darting into your mouth, silencing any retort you may have had. Everything snapped into place, all the tension and frustration of the night's events coming to a climax. You exploded, your body trembling, writhing, your orgasm crashing over you, drowning out everything else.

The intensity of your release shocked you. This was by far the most erotic thing you'd ever experienced. You were entirely his, wrung out, writhing on his cock, completely at his mercy. He watched you with an expression of pure satisfaction and awe, a smug grin curling his lips as he fucked into you, his rhythmic movements never stopping.

When the waves of pleasure finally receded, you collapsed against him, panting and spent. He cradled you, gently lowering you onto your back, covering your sweat-slicked body with his own. His weight pressed you into the mattress, his hips grinding into you. He kissed you, his mouth hot and demanding, stealing the breath from your lungs.

The music drowned out the filthy sounds of your bodies colliding, your moans and whimpers lost in the din of the bass. Your fingers gripped his biceps, your nails digging into his flesh. He grunted, leaning in and biting at your lip, his tongue darting past your parted lips. He kissed you fiercely, devouring you until your lungs burned for air.

You broke the kiss, inhaling sharply, trying to catch your breath. His vampiric nature was peeking through, fueled by his passions. You could feel his predatory gaze roaming over your exposed flesh, his gums bloody from where his fangs had nicked his own skin in a heated moment.

You moaned, watching his hips rise and fall, feeling the slap of his skin against your own. This rough, relentless fucking was everything you'd craved and more. You tilted your head up, offering your throat, arching into him. He flashed you a wicked, fanged smirk, his breath fanning over your neck, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Such a beautiful, sweet thing," he purred, taking your earlobe between his teeth. "Are you offering yourself to me, darling?"

Your lips curled into a smile as you breathed, "Yes."

Without warning, Elijah buried his fangs into the soft skin of your throat. A yelp tore from your lips, the shock mingling with the sensations his cock and fangs induced. His hands tightened on your ass, spreading you open, his hips picking up speed. The slight pain of his bite only heightened your pleasure.

"Oh, yes, yes! Fuck, yes!" you moaned, loud and unabashed, lost to the sensation, completely at his mercy.

Elijah sucked in a deep, guttural breath, his throat working as he drained a few mouthfuls of your blood. You dug your nails into his skin, grinding your hips up and into him, desperate to feel more. He growled low in his throat, his fangs sharp and tearing, his hips pounding into you, your name a frantic whisper falling from his lips.

A white-hot wave of heat flooded you, starting at the crown of your head and rushing down your body, between your legs and spreading up through your stomach and chest. The feeling was so intense that you fell off the edge, orgasm slamming into you. You cried out, trembling beneath him, your hips jerking wildly. He let out a sharp gasp, his whole body stiffening, his cock twitching as he came inside you, filling you with his cum.

A string of curses left your lips as you fell from your peak, Elijah gently licked at the puncture wounds on your throat, his fangs receding. You closed your eyes, taking a few steadying breaths, your heart pounding against your ribcage.

There were no words that could fully encapsulate the way you were feeling, so instead, you hugged him tightly to you, hoping he would understand.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek, brushing the hair from your face. You smiled, trailing your fingertips over the taut muscles of his biceps. He hummed, looking down at you with a content, satisfied expression.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, your breath still coming in shallow gasps. "I think you’ve just ruined me for anyone else."

His eyes darkened, the faintest flicker of possessiveness returning. "Good," he said simply, making you chuckle.

The sound of the music still thudded softly in the background, but the world outside the two of you felt distant, inconsequential. Elijah shifted, his hands smoothing over your sides as he cradled you against him, kissing and nipping along your neck and jaw.

"Where have you been hiding this side of you?" you teased, your voice soft but playful.

Elijah chuckled, giving you a lopsided grin. "Darling, that's just the tip of the iceberg."

Your eyes widened, a nervous heat spreading across your cheeks. "Oh?" you inquired, your mind already racing at the implications.

He nodded, a dark glint in his eyes. "Mmhmm."

"So, I should probably delete Kol's number, huh?" you asked, teasing.

Elijah's eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. He leaned in, resting his weight on his forearm, his lips a hair's breadth away from yours.

"Most definitely," he murmured, claiming your lips in a heated, passionate kiss.

Needless to say, you had no complaints.

I'll be tagging ya'll in the comments from now on... because tumblr is not built for tagging lots of users... if you want off the tag list just shoot me a DM!!! (I won't be offended ~xo)

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everythingacotarbxm1012 · 11 months ago

Text

They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 1

Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.

Warnings - abusive family mentioned.

Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || They’re Mates Universe Masterlist

✨💫

Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.

The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”

The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.

“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.

The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.

Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.

The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.

Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.

She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s hand before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.

“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.

“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”

Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”

Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”

Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.

Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”

Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.

“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.

“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.

Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.

“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”

“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.

“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”

Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”

Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand x feyre #cassian #morrigan #mor #3rd person pov

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writersdrug · 6 months ago

Text

Tea and Cigarettes

Chapter 1. Tea Party

Masterlist

Summary: Out for a late-night walk to clear his head, Simon stumbles across an open bakery. All he wants is a tea. Instead, he gets a tea party.

Warnings: mild cursing, reader doesn't do the smartest thing in this situation

It was a common thought in Simon’s head, if not the most common. He shouldn’t have survived that mission.

It’s what was engrained into his head from the very first mission he’d been a part of. It’s what he repeated to himself at the end of every mission thereafter. Lady Luck was too forgiving and magnanimous to him – he should have been killed long ago, well before he reached his thirties and climbed up the ranks to lieutenant. It’s one thing when you have something to fight for, to come home to – it’s another when you have nothing but an undecorated flat.

And, for tonight, a cup of tea.

It was another night between missions; another restless moment in time where Simon found himself walking the streets of the city, rather than trying to get some shut eye. It wouldn’t have worked anyways – it never did. His neurons were too busy firing off at every mistake, every memory, every single thing that haunts him, for him to get a restful sleep.

So that’s what brought him here: standing inside a bakery late at night, staring at the toddler behind the cashier’s counter. His overactive thoughts had certainly taken a backseat to the one, prominent question in his mind; who the hell is this kid, and where is her mother?!

“Hello.” She said, standing on her toes, already balancing herself on a small step-stool. Her head barely poked over the counter for her to look at Simon.

“… ‘ello…” he said cautiously, eyeing the girl like she was a ticking time bomb. “Where are your parents?”

“Mummy’s in the back with Sean.” She said, turning her head and pointing to the doorway to the left. Simon leaned his head over the counter to follow her line of sight – he heard the sound of some sort of machinery echoing from the kitchen-like backroom, but he didn’t see anyone.

“She’s making biscuits!” The girl said, looking back at Simon.

He was utterly baffled. Who would leave a kid at the front of a shop? After hours, with the bloody door unlocked?! “Where’s your dad?”

“He lives with Nancy!”

“Nancy?”

“Yes – she used to stay at home with us, when Mommy had to work – then she took daddy home with him!”

Oh… that’s unfortunate.

He sighed. “Sorry ‘bout-“

“Would you like tea?”

Simon stared blankly back at the girl. This is ridiculous. “D’you have black tea?”

The girl nodded. She hopped off the step stool – Simon followed her little ponytail as it barely bobbed above the surface of the countertops. She rounded the corner and headed to a small, pink play kitchen. She grabbed two cups, one pink and one a royal purple, before carrying them over to a sink back behind the counter. She placed them on the countertop, then trotted back to the cashier area to grab her stool.

“I’m sorry.” she said with a giggle.

“’S fine, take your time…” Simon mumbled, stupefied by the whole situation. He watched the girl as she dragged her stool to the sink and clamored up onto it, filling the two cups with water. This was a very… unnatural situation. He wouldn’t be entertaining it, if it wasn’t for the fact that this girl was clearly alone. He would have gone back to the kitchen to see where her mum was, but he didn’t want anyone to think he was robbing the place and pull a gun on him. If anything, the least he could do was watch over this little girl until someone came around to claim responsibility for her.

So, there he was. Five minutes later, sitting at one of the tables in the bakery with this toddler. “Eating” a fake croissant and drinking “tea” from the little plastic cup (he got pink; purple was her favorite color).

“Do you want butter?” she asked, holding him a plastic plate and knife, with a plastic slab of butter on it.

“Yea, why not.” He replied. He picked up the tiny knife and pretended to slather butter over the one half of his croissant (it intrigued him that the manufacturer of the toy had thought to make the damn thing dividable into two pieces). “Ya got a name, kid?”

“Mummy says I can’t tell strangers my name.” she replied, looking at him with the same stern expression her mother had most likely given when telling her the same thing.

Simon nodded. “Your mum’s smart.” He said, taking a sip of his tea.

“You can call me Pony Princess!” she offered instead, biting into her croissant rather realistically.

Simon held back a laugh. “Pony Princess it is, then.” He said, clinking his cup against hers when she held it up for a toast.

You sighed, shoving the third and final tray of biscuits into the commercial oven. It was hot and humid in the kitchen, and you were thankful that the most toiling part of the batch was over. Glancing at your watch made you grimace at how late it was – Christopher was for sure going to complain about how late you had him stay, especially past closing. You knew he was most likely out for a smoke, but you didn’t have the energy to reprimand him tonight. As long as the doors were locked behind him and the front lights were off, you didn’t care. No one would be trying to enter a bakery this late at night.

You looked to your left, fanning the heat from your flushed face. Sean was fast asleep in his carrier, his little mouth open and fingers twitching as he dreamed. You gently scooped him into your arms and wiped his nose clean with your apron, before maneuvering your way through the kitchen to the front. It had been a while since Christopher came to nag you about hurrying up, and you wondered how long he’d been out smoking – or if he’d come back at all. Ellie wasn’t in her usual spot, coloring in the office chair in front of the computer… you frowned a bit, speed walking into the café as an uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

“Christpher, are you in here?” you called, adjusting Sean on your hip. “Ellie? Where are-“

You audibly gasped when you walked into the seating area. A man, a brutish man, was seated at one of your tables, after closing. He was dressed in all black, with a black surgical mask dangling from one ear, and his hood up. He stared back at you with a shocked expression on his face, holding an absurdly tiny, pink plastic cup in his hand, and a toy croissant on the table in front of him. Right across from him was your daughter, Ellie, with an aloof grin on her face.

“Hi Mummy!” she exclaimed. “We’re having a tea party!”

A million questions were running through your head. Where the fuck is Christopher? Who is this man? Is he robbing you? Is he trying to steal your child?!

“Ellie…” you said, a slight waiver in your voice. “Sweetheart, come here please.”

“But I’m having tea with him!”

You sent another fearful glance to the behemoth of a man at the table. He looked back at you, seemingly just as taken aback by the situation as you were. He looked back down at the table and cleared his throat, taking a tiny sip from the hot pink plastic cup.

Your daughter was having tea and crumpets with a fucking burglar.

“Ellie. Now, please.” You repeated sternly, holding your free arm out to her.

She reluctantly slid down from her chair and padded over to you. As soon as she was within arm’s length, you grabbed her tiny hand and dragged her into the back kitchen.

“Ellie, what are you doing?!” You whisper-yelled, kneeling down to her level and looking into her eyes. You tried to stress the importance of the situation. “Who is that man?!”

“He’s a customer, Mummy!” she said, with a beaming smile on her face.

“What did he want from you?!”

“He wanted tea.”

“What else? Did he ask for your name?”

“I didn’t tell him.” She said, resolve thick in her tone. “Just like you told me not to.”

You sighed frustratedly, adjusting Sean on your hip. “Where is Christopher?”

“He went outside.”

Un-fuckin-believable.

You pulled her close to you and planted a kiss to her forehead, then looked her in the eyes once more. “Listen to me, sweetie. Go to the desk and color for now, ok? I’m gonna talk to the man. I’ll be right back. And if you hear Mommy yelling or crying-“

“- use the phone and call 9-9-9.” She said.

“Good girl – now go on.” You ushered her further into the kitchen, then stood upright. With Sean still sound asleep, cradled tightly into your side, you grabbed the phone from the wall mount and slowly tiptoed back into the café.

Simon was still at the table, except now both of his palms were flat against the wooden surface. He watched as you emerged back into the lobby; maybe it was an inappropriate time to admire someone, but he couldn’t help himself.

You. Fierce you, you mustering the angriest face you could make (it was quite cute, by the way – you really need to work on it if you’re trying to intimidate anyone). You with your hair hastily pulled back into a messy updo, you with that baby boy on your hip, you with batter on your face that Simon was just dying to lick up. You stayed behind the counter

“Who are you?” you demanded.

“Simon.” He answered. He could tell you were a bit disappointed in that response, given you didn’t know who the hell Simon was. “Not a burglar.” He added after a few seconds.

You pouted even more. “Why are you in here? How did you get in here? We’re closed.”

Simon looked towards the blinking “open” sign by the front door. “Well… mam, the sign says otherwise. And the doors were unlocked.”

You looked at the sign and cursed internally, taking another peek into the back kitchen. Ellie was still back there. Good. Christopher was nowhere to be seen. Fuck.

“I’m sorry about the confusion…” you said, looking back at Simon and adjusting Sean on your hip, “but we’re closed. My clerk should’ve turned that sign off hours ago, and locked the door behind him. In fact, when he gets in here, I’m about to give him a piece of my-“

“Mam, please-“ Simon said, starting to stand up. Your eyes widened a bit and you took a step back; he held his hands up as a peace offering, before stretching up to his full height. You gulped – you’d never seen anyone so large before. How did he fit through the damn door?

“I didn’t mean t’ cause any fuss.” He spoke quietly, slowly approaching the counter you stood behind. “I really am sorry – I thought th’ place was open, n’ I was out lookin’ for a tea. ‘Lil squirt back there was very hospitable. I jus’ stuck around to see where ‘er mum was.”

He pulled his hood down to seem more approachable, and lord, was he. You couldn’t fight the way you were immediately attracted to the cropped, blonde hair, the strong jaw, the few scars that marked up his face… fuck, the way he could’ve been a building next to you, with how much he shaded you from the light…

Didn’t you think this man was a burglar not five minutes ago? You thought. You quickly forgave yourself, once you remembered how long it had been since you were with a man.

You sighed. “I’m sorry, I just- you know, with two kids, you freak out about everything-“

“Perfectly understandable.” He interjected. “But I’ve caused enough trouble for one night. ‘ll be out of your hair-“

“Could I at least get you a tea?” you asked. “Since you’re here.”

“You really don’t need-“

“No, I insist- just, give me a moment-“ frazzled, you disappeared into the kitchen, the door swinging shut behind you.

Simon exhaled heavily, clearing his throat. He tried to recuperate himself – he couldn’t be falling for the woman he nearly frightened to death, let alone a woman he’d never met before. You were probably scared shitless of him. The way your wide, glossy eyes had stared at him, those pouting lips… and Christ, the way that baby boy fit perfectly on your hips. He imagined his hands tracing over them –

He huffed, glancing around the café to distract himself. Should’ve listened to Price and gotten a hobby-

You came back out, baby-free, and snagged a paper cup off of a stack near the drip machine. “Just had to put him back with Ellie. Don’t like them being near the- the urns, and such-“ you fumbled, looking for a cup sleeve, before sliding it on and reaching for the tea cabinet. “Black or green?”

“Black’s fine – please and thank you.” Simon grunted out. He shoved his fidgety hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt, watching as you grabbed a tea back and dropped it into his cup.

“Cream? Sugar?”

“None, thanks.”

“Do you always roam around this late at night?” you asked, pouring the water into the travel cup. Steam billowed up and in front of your face, and you scrunched your nose from the heat. “None of the shops are open this late – tea shops, I mean. Or, they shouldn’t be, but most of them have a clerk who knows how to turn off the “open” sign and lock the damn doors.”

Simon huffed. “Figured something was off. I jus’ couldn’t sleep.” He said, accepting the cup as you handed it to him. “Never can get much after comin’ home. Takes a while t’ get used to civilian life.”

“Military?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip as Simon nodded. “I get that. Nick used to have the same problem.”

“Nick?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, an embarrassed flush on your face. “Nothing. Ex-husband. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Simon mumbled, taking a sip of the tea. Don’t be sorry at all…

The two of you stood there a moment, a bit of awkward silence hanging in between you like a thick wall of glass. You cleared your throat – Simon saw the time on the clock hanging on the wall behind you, and decided he had taken up enough of your time.

“Well” – he said, fishing in to his pocket.

You smiled. “I appreciate it, but you really don’t have to. I’m paying you back for assuming you were a burglar – and for watching my daughter. Which, honestly, I really do appreciate.”

“Nonsense.” He said, pulling out a waded up bill. “’S what any good man should do. And I insist – if anything, give it t’ the little squirt for the excellent customer service.”

You chuckled, smiling as he handed the bill to you. “I can’t thank you eno-“ you stopped, glancing at the two £50’s he’d just given you. Words failed to come to you, your tongue tripping over itself as you tried to get past the initial shock.

“Th- I- wait, Simon!” you called, swinging around the edge of the counter – but he was already at the door. “I can’t accept this!”

He held up a hand. “’M not takin’ it back. And it’s not for you – give it to Ellie.”

You huffed. “What’s a five-year-old going to do with one hundred pounds?!”

He shrugged. “Start a college fund. Or get herself a handful of biscuits from the store.”

A chuckle escaped your lips – the sound warmed Simon’s soul. “Yeah, sure. When she’s got plenty of biscuits here. I don’t-“

You stopped, just as the bell above the door chimed. Simon followed your narrowed, angry gaze to the bloke who had just entered. He was tying an apron around his middle, reeked of cigarette smoke and body odor. He jumped when his eyes landed on Simon – he could see the gears turning in the man’s head as his face suddenly fell, right before he turned to you. Simon read the name on the tag pinned to the man’s apron.

Christopher.

A deep, throaty laugh escaped his throat as he clapped the man on the shoulder. “You’re in trouble, mate. ‘N lock the door behind ya.” He then exited the café, sipping his tea and shoving a hand into his pocket, chuckling as your angry voice echoed through the doors.

Thankfully, the nagging voices in his head didn’t return that night.

#SImon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #cod #call of duty #ghost cod #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley cod #cod x reader #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic

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storiesoflilies · 4 months ago

Text

metanoia

synopsis: a love story that blossoms over two students’ shared love of drinking green tea and talking about the stars. w.c: 17k.

pairing: college!toji fushiguro x f!reader

warnings: mostly fluff with angst at the end! NSFW so MDNI!

a/n: this fic is my darling baby that has been re-released (in case anybody was thinking it looks familiar)! there are no major changes from the original fic! to both new and old readers, i hope you enjoy <3

art / divider / playlist / ao3

there was nothing else to do or say about fate, other than it was fixed.

no matter how hard you might try to change it, she never believed it could be. life was a series of scrawling numbers and greek letters, written by the hands of angels and god.

life was never going to be a straight line. rather, it was a scattered mess of ever-changing parabolas, dipping and rising above the axis like surfers on the waves of the sea.

but sometimes, just sometimes, you can hear what has been written about you.

if she tuned into things really hard, and listened beyond the banal noises that came with the plane of existence all humans exist in, she could hear it.

the scratching of a pen on paper, or perhaps a feather quill on a scroll?

yes, that sounded more like it.

she could hear the angels solving the puzzle they had been given – to balance the equation of her life. things had to be solved in a certain series of formulas to become a proven, tangible equation. the angels were still trying to prove her life, it seemed, and it was quite simply astounding that they were working so hard to try and solve it for her.

but the irrational part of her couldn’t help but think the worst.

what if they were bored?

she could certainly understand; there were many times when she’d been made to solve trivial questions, like calculating the speed of an aircraft, and she’d wished she could be anywhere but there in that moment. did the angels think that about her equation? would they ever get bored and just give up on her?

with that, the cold, beautiful reality that is life becomes apparent.

none of it was really personal to them, but she had a duty to live it right up until the equation was balanced and the last drop of ink ran dry.

but for now, it was golden hour.

that time of the day when the sun’s light softened, casting long shadows of buildings and trees across the pavement. honeyed rays of light filtered in through the window, refracting through the clear plastic display that showcased the sweet traybakes of the day. the cafe was quiet now, just after the hustle and bustle of regular work hours. most of the patrons were university students, drawn to the cafe for its convenient location near the main campus, where they downed their coffees like it was a drug to be taken multiple times a day.

she couldn’t judge them.

after all, she was included in that typical student caliber too. but instead of drinking her weight in murky brown caffeine, she preferred it to be of the green kind. more specifically, a cup of green tea took her brainpower much farther and higher than its more popular, teeth-staining counterpart.

and the perks of working for the very same cafe?

every cup of it was free and unlimited use for her – something she took advantage of every single shift.

the job couldn’t be more perfect for her.

although her shifts were daily, they were always scheduled during these quiet golden hours that extended into the stretch of moonlight, accommodating her university hours.

because choosing to study a degree in physics was certainly no joke, and she was grateful for any spare moment of peace to work on her assignments and reports. her manager never minded, leaving her to riddle away at her numbers, which went straight over their head, trusting her to still serve any customers coming in and close up the shop.

it was absolutely fine.

a simple, predictable routine – an equation she was perfectly happy to solve every single day.

until it wasn’t so easy.

| Φ |

some time later that night, the delicate bell above the doorway tinkled merrily.

it was well after the sun had dipped below the horizon and the moon had finally peeked out from behind dusty clouds, and so it had snapped her straight out of her trance. she had been listening to the music of mathematical constants singing to her of defined, set values from the sheet of paper placed against the wooden clipboard of ‘speciality beverages’.

it was him.

toji fushiguro.

the dark haired boy she had seen around campus, although he probably hadn’t noticed her flitting about between lectures.

he was unusually quiet and unfairly attractive. the boy who obviously frequented the gym close by, and came here to her little cafe afterwards. that much was obvious from the way the wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead, the spicy smell of whatever body wash he used, and the all black attire he always wore.

the very same same boy who she’d curiously asked about, only to be told that he kept to himself and didn’t really speak to anybody.

and she believed it.

she had never seen him walking with anybody else, or even bringing anyone along to his daily study sessions at the cafe. the way he grimaced at loud, boisterous students, typical of their age group, told her enough. that toji fushiguro didn’t seem to like people very much, and was perfectly happy with not being liked in return.

“hello,” she meekly piped out, her voice barely above a squeak. “what would you like?”

it was a silly question, she knew he would order his usual.

green tea.

just like her.

but it was a question she asked regardless, just in case his routine equation had somehow changed. you never know, perhaps the angels had miscalculated or wrote down a wrong number – it happens to everyone.

“green tea, please,” he grunted, not quite meeting her eyes.

he then sauntered off to his usual table by the window, and began pulling out his study material from his canvas bag.

she was grateful for the simplicity of their routine. there was nothing worse than preparing an elaborate order in the quiet of the night and disturbing the peace. brewing green tea was something she knew like the back of her hand, easy and peaceful like breathing. she strained the herbs as she poured it into a delicate ceramic cup, which the cafe insisted on serving it in, and brought it over to him.

toji muttered a small thank you, and she politely smiled, even though he never once looked at her. she walked back to her spot behind the counter, and placed the clipboard on her crossed legs, and resumed her musings.

such was their routine.

the both of them in their respective worlds within the same plane that was the cafe, sipping their green tea and whittling away at their education.

strangely, she almost felt honored that of all the cafes open late into the night, this was the one he picked to come to. even if the bitter, realistic part of her insisted that it was only because it was conveniently close to the gym. still, their equations followed the exact same sequence of numbers at that time every day, and she found that positively wonderful.

it was nearing 10:30p.m when she finally finished solving her report, and she looked up to see toji was completely engrossed in whatever he was working on.

he should have noticed the time by now.

he would have normally packed up his things at this point, but not before ordering one last cup of tea before heading off wherever it was he went to in the dead of night. probably back to his accommodation, she assumed, because he just didn’t seem like the type to show up to late-night parties full of booze and sweat.

she didn’t know what to say, or even how to say it.

the logical part of her brain was overthinking everything.

this just wasn’t the norm for them.

toji was supposed to have tidied up after himself, leave just the exact amount of money on the counter, and walk out the door without another word. she almost considered not even saying anything at all, biding her time until he simply realized himself and walked out.

until her legs moved of their, seemingly of their own accord, straight towards him.

perhaps it was all a result of the numbers being messily rubbed away and rewritten. he never even heard her; his black wired earbuds were firmly in his ears, and she wondered what sort of music it was that toji fushiguro listened to. she quickly tapped his shoulder, withdrawing her hand back to her side as quickly as she could.

toji practically jumped out of his skin as he turned to acknowledge her.

“sorry,” she apologized, looking pointedly over at the clock on the wall above him. “but we’re closing soon.”

toji frowned, like he didn’t really believe her, until he glanced at the digital clock on his laptop and jumped into action. “sorry,” he said rather awkwardly, hurriedly packing up his things as she stood at a respectful distance away.

“it’s no problem at all. please, take your time,” she replied as politely and delicately as she possibly could, looking away as he messily scraped his papers and notebooks into his bag.

his chair scraped uncomfortably across the floor, and he heaved his bag over his shoulder as he shoved a hand into his pocket, fishing for the exact change he needed. for a second, she thought, hoped, that he would hand it to her. but no, he almost jogged over to the counter and placed it right next to the black mug of green tea beside her clipboard.

toji paused, momentarily staring at her mug. she felt a flush of embarrassment, as if even he knew she wasn’t supposed to be drinking it out of a large mug. but he said nothing and rushed outside.

everything fell back into place according to the laws of the world, and seemed to right again.

| Φ |

there was something inherently uncomfortable about contemplating the future.

as summer rapidly approached, with only about four months left of the semester, she found herself forced to confront equations she didn’t want to solve. it was always during the night, when she should have been fast asleep, that she really tried to listen in on the angels scribbling away at her numbers. it was cheating really, an easy way out to hear the answers of what she was supposed to do.

perhaps if the end of her final year wasn’t so dreadfully final, then it would have been easier to formulate her own answers.

well, they weren’t really her own, but anyway.

she was in her own little bubble tonight, absentmindedly sipping her tea and tapping her pen against the clipboard. she knew the answer to the problem at hand, some menial question about what angle a beam of light would reflect at, and so she could afford to daydream and listen to the music of the numbers singing in her head.

it was quite easy to imagine a picture being painted from the numbers. why bother calculating the angle when you could visualize the light bending instead?

that was what mattered in the end, not just the face value of the number itself, but the tangible reality they represented.

there was no point in scribbling away at the numbers if you couldn’t paint a picture in your mind of the light itself or feel the thumping of sound waves reverberating through the surrounding medium.

there was only her and toji in the cafe now. he’d breezed past her earlier on the way in straight to his seat, dumping his bag on the table with the air of a student who was beyond fed up with their lot. she knew what it looked like; she’d seen it too many times throughout the years and had been through that position herself.

she tried not to make it obvious she was looking at him, or admiring the way his arms moved in the tight compression shirt he wore.

or the way his wet hair was slightly slicked back today.

and the way his annoyance sparked a beautiful flame of green in his eyes.

he looked over at her.

dammit.

she heard his footsteps approaching her, but her embarrassment forced her not to even look at him. instead, she focused heavily on pretending to be stuck on the paper in front of her.

“hey, uh, can i get a green tea?” he asked, his voice deep and undeniably addictive. “please?”

“oh yes, of course!” she replied swiftly, putting on her best customer service voice to shield her embarrassment as best as she possibly could.

toji shifted his feet from side to side, his hands in his pockets, and mumbled, “could i possibly have it in a mug, or something? it’s just… the teacups are really small.”

a deviation in the curve, an unexpected variable.

she answered anyway, perhaps a little unsurely, “oh, sure, yeah. no problem at all. is this one fine?” she lifted her mug awkwardly off the table, and toji looked at it and nodded.

“yeah, that would be great. is it, uh, more expensive?”

the way he asked it made her heart ache, as if he was ashamed of having to in the first place.

oh.

i’m so sorry.

she waved her hand at him, playing it off like a silly unnecessary question. “oh no, not at all. don’t worry about it.”

toji seemed visibly gladdened at this, the tension in his face releasing as his eyes brightened. he stood there, swinging on the balls of his feet, and she was quite surprised he was waiting for her to finish brewing the tea instead of bringing it over to him. she had to steady the slight tremor in her hand as he watched her brew the tea with practiced precision. after what seemed like an eternity, she placed the mug on a small plate and carefully handed it to him.

“thanks,” he said quietly, his eyes fixated on the mug and the thin wisps of steam wafting from it. then, like an afterthought that was actually painfully thought out, he added, “appreciate it.”

she could have sworn the corner of his lip lifted, and she almost lost her footing as she sat back down on her stool. though she knew it was impossible, it seemed as if time had been stuck in that moment, the laws of physics crying out for some sense of normalcy to resume.

and so she cleared her throat, pulling free time from where its coat was stuck on the doorknob. “no worries. let me know if you need anything else.”

but he was already walking back to his seat.

firmly slotting back the numbers and variables into the places they were supposed to be.

newton’s first law of motion states that an object at rest or uniform motion will continue to stay that way unless acted upon by a net external force.

or the law of inertia, as it was also called, and she much preferred that instead. it was what she thought of every time she saw toji making his way to the door of the cafe from the window, taking large, purposeful strides like he knew where he always wanted to go at all times. he was that object in uniform motion, his life seemingly constant without any real deviations. she thought of it every time he walked out of the door too, and wondered if there would ever be anything significant enough to achieve a large enough force to change his trajectory.

so what large enough force had been applied to make him finally ask for a change to how he drank his tea?

maybe he had never considered it before, never realized there was any other option other than the abysmally tiny teacup he had used before. perhaps the fact that he had stopped and seen her mug the night before had opened up new possibilities for him.

whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, because he looked so much more at ease now that he wasn’t hanging on for dear life to a teacup too small for those hands of his.

those big, attractive hands, with good, strong veins running through them.

toji looked up at her from behind his laptop.

the tip-taps of her pen became just a notch louder, and she bit her lip, almost crossing her eyes as she focused a little too hard into the hole of the letter ‘a’ in the word ‘angle’.

dammit.

| Φ |

it was march, and the cherry blossoms that grew around campus were now blossoming in full swing.

what little free time she had between university work, endless laboratory reports, and working at the cafe, was spent walking around the town and parks. while hearing the songs of physics and numbers was her way of life, sometimes it was nice to wind down and appreciate the beauty of biology and chemistry.

to see how the rain that fell from the skies was soaked up by the weed flowers thriving in the cracks of the pavement. they were tiny little warriors, persevering in the face of the hundreds of people who surely walked this path, avoiding death by being crushed.

the air was cool, and it was late enough in the day to make it feel much cooler than it should have been. she rubbed her arms through her jacket and picked up the pace. it was a week break in the semester, and it was much busier than it should have been for that time of the day. her manager had offered her more hours to work during the break, and she had mistakenly accepted the offer instead of taking some time for herself to do what she liked.

she entered the cafe, the little bell chiming, and smiled at her colleague, who seemed rather grateful that they weren’t alone to deal with the swarm of students enjoying a relaxing coffee. it was rather different from the anxious energy that usually accompanied students in here, but it was a welcome change to see unburdened smiles before the exam season hit them all in full merciless force.

together, they took on the onslaught of orders from all the customers walking into their quaint little cafe in the middle of campus. she couldn’t remember the last time she’d made such complex teas, brewing flavor combinations she couldn’t even concoct in her wildest dreams.

by the end of the rush, with her colleague having finished their shift, she was left in a frazzled state of tea stains and sticky sugary syrup.

and that is precisely when toji fushiguro decided to walk through the door.

she almost froze, a mixture of shock and embarrassment washing over like a bucket of ice-cold water. why, she’d never seen him in the cafe while the sun was still in the sky, and he wasn’t even dressed in his usual fitness attire either. instead, it was a black jumper and jeans. this was most certainly not part of the equation at all; she had never even considered to calculate the probability of such an event occurring.

“hey,” he greeted, as casual as the jeans he was wearing, while fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

“hi,” she answered, dusting off some imaginary dust from her apron because she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. “the usual?”

toji seemed somewhat surprised at this. “yeah, please.”

she couldn’t lie; it was such a welcome relief to make something so simple amidst the chaos that was the ever-changing trends of beverages. had the universe written an additional formula just to provide her with just a moment’s respite?

or was it the law of attraction being employed?

no, that was surely wishful thinking.

there was no way that toji fushiguro had anything in common with her.

“are you sitting in or taking away?” she prompted, the extra words slipping through her lips.

he thought about it for a second before nodding his head, “uh, yeah, takeaway please.”

“no problem,” she replied smoothly, amazed at how well she was deviating from their usual interactions, and poured the tea into a disposable cup. “there you go.”

toji mumbled a ‘thank you’ as he carefully placed the coins on the counter, his hands completely enveloping what she would have once considered a large cup.

what compelled her to say the following words, she didn’t really know, but she called out in a hopefully not-so-loud voice as he turned to leave, “enjoy the blossoms!”

just why?

why would you say that?

she was even more mortified when toji simply walked out the door without sparing her a second glance. the universe was cruel for adding that into the equation, and she could have sworn, to add further insult to injury, that two girls had watched their exchange and were snickering.

enjoy the blossoms?

stupid, stupid, stupid!

| Φ |

for the rest of the day, she felt as if the second law of thermodynamics very much applied to her.

as she recounted her absolutely horrific exchange with toji, she felt the heat of the universe pressing down on her isolated being, causing her atoms inside of her to bounce of the walls that was her skin, sending her into a more and more disorganized chaotic state of existence. she actually hoped for once that the deviance of the otherwise constant line would continue to do so, and that toji wouldn’t come to the cafe later on that night.

then she could resume solving the equation as it was meant to be solved for the next night, and she could continue on as if nothing ever happened in the first place.

so when their routine did end up resuming its normalcy, and toji walked into the cafe with his dark wet hair and canvas bag, she was too mortified to even speak to him, despite him being the only customer in the shop. she got straight to work brewing him his tea, avoiding even looking anywhere near him as he set his things down at the table.

her lack of attention, for once, almost caused a head-on collision.

“hey, oh shit! sorry,” toji cussed, even though it was completely her fault, as he stopped whatever momentum he had in his body from crashing into her.

she hissed as the scalding tea splashed onto her fingers. “oh, no, i’m sorry! are you alright?”

“yeah, don’t worry about it.”

with a wobbly, quivering lip, she went around him and placed his mug on the table, being careful to avoid placing the wet bottom anywhere near his papers. it was there she caught a glimpse of some messily scrawled-out calculations on a piece of scratch paper, and her brain immediately started to sing.

no, don’t stare. it’s rude.

“sorry again,” she whispered, looking straight at the ground and being careful to not step in his way again.

toji never even made a sound, and she didn’t dare to look up to see if he was looking at her. she ran her finger under some cold water before taking her usual seat at the counter, and picked up where she left off on summarizing her lectures. it was perfectly quiet now, save for the scratching of her pen on paper and toji typing away on his keyboard. this was peaceful, easy, and– hold on. why could she hear the sound of the music?

“hey, sorry to interrupt,” toji interjected, making her jump. “do you have any sandwiches or something left?”

“oh! no, i’m sorry, what’s on display is what’s left,” she answered shakily, putting her pen down on the counter. “i, um- the protein balls are pretty decent, if you like that sort of thing.”

“oh, sure. yeah,” he murmured, looking at the several flavors that were available. “I’ll take the, uh, peanut flavor. that any good?”

she smiled softly, despite the throbbing sensation in her finger. “yeah, it’s not bad. you want two?” he nodded, and she wrapped them both up in a paper bag as he procured out coins from his pocket.

toji dug around some more, patting down his pockets to make sure there was definitely nothing lingering in there, and his stomach audibly growled. the air became a touch too awkward, and she stared at the sad-looking change on the counter.

she slid the bag over to him with quiet understanding, and gave him the kindest smile she possibly could.

“hey, don’t worry about it. it’s on the house,” she encouraged. “sorry, i should have said that from the beginning.”

toji shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “oh no, i couldn’t do that. sorry, i’ll just leave it. i thought i had enough change.”

she pushed the bag further towards him. “it’s fine, i insist. please.”

he slowly took the bag, as if he wasn’t sure that it was real, or that it was maybe going to bite him. “thanks,” he said quietly, and retreated back to his seat, packing up his things, while she sat there trying to will her atoms back into their rightful place.

“thanks again,” toji rumbled softly as he held the door halfway open. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

“o-oh yeah! yeah, see you tomorrow,” she stuttered back.

with that, he closed the door behind him, the bell tingling a beautiful farewell for him, and she was left with the atoms of her thumping heart completely dispersing into the atmosphere as she frantically tried to claw them back down.

| Φ |

tomorrow came and went, and they had settled into a slightly different flow of their routine.

instead of waiting for her to bring over his tea, toji now waited at the counter for her to hand him a large, steaming mug of his fix. they never spoke anymore than what they did before, but there was something that had changed between them. something so subtle that it couldn’t be defined properly, but she knew it was there, and she hoped toji knew it too.

it was april now, and the flurry of students cramming for their exams in may were in full swing. when she wasn’t at the cafe, she was holed up in her shared accommodation, buried underneath a blanket that may as well have been a black hole swallowing her whole. there, she studied for the last set of exams she would ever have to sit at university, but she tried not to dwell on that fact.

not that she didn’t study at the cafe, but toji’s presence added an extra dynamic that made it difficult to focus as well as when she was alone.

despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but constantly glance at him when she was confident he wasn’t looking. right now, she could tell he was silently stressing over his exams too. spending so long in silence with another person meant she could tell the slight quirks in his face that signalled a changed in trajectory of emotion.

currently, the deep frown lines etched in his forehead meant that he was monumentally stuck on something. he’d been like that ever since he powered up his laptop and stared at the screen, the dim light casting an artificial, cold glow on his face.

once again, she didn’t know what compelled her to do what she did next.

maybe it was the fact she knew he had barely touched his tea, and it was surely cold by now. or maybe it was the desire to momentarily distract him from his frustration by bringing him a warm, fresh brew. whatever it was, her body was moving according some new formula the angels had applied, and she found herself simply walking over without saying anything and placing a piping hot mug next to his laptop.

“huh? oh, thanks,” toji said slowly, daze-like, as if he wasn’t sure she was real and doing this.

she smiled softly, quickly glancing at the scratch paper in front of him, and oh no – he wasn’t composing the music correctly at all.

“that isn’t the answer,” she stated simply, looking back up at him. he frowned again, momentarily confused, until she pointed at his paper and said, “you’ve calculated this wrong. that isn’t the right equation to use.”

toji looked back down at his paper, sighing softly, and rubbed his face as he seemed to sink deeper and deeper into his chair. she couldn’t understand it; there was absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in getting a question wrong. she’d done it before herself many times, and more than likely would continue to do so.

“sorry, i-uh, i’m not very good at mathematics,” he mumbled shyly, and her heart started to crumble like a biscuit.

she pulled her pen out of her pocket and clicked it once. “no need to be sorry. do you want me to show you how to do it?”

toji nodded wordlessly, and slid the paper over to her, angling the laptop so she could see the question displayed. it was about calculating the speed of an athlete's arm as they threw a ball through the air, but he hadn’t used the correct equation, nor the correct standard units. she quickly wrote out every step of how to solve it, did a final check that her mental calculations were correct against his gray calculator, and slid the paper back to him.

“there, be careful with your units and don’t forget to include them. most of my professors have strict marking against not writing the proper ones, i don’t know about yours, but it might be better to be safe than sorry,” she explained, her throat tightening as he intently looked at her working out.

it felt personal on another sort of level, and strangely intimate.

he seemed to be taking his time studying it, with a slightly blank look, as if what she had done was still going well over his head. “yeah, good point. thank you,” was all he mustered, and he tilted his head at the scratch paper.

“do you want me to explain anything?” she prompted, half expecting him to pretend that he understood everything. that would have been typical of a student at university - faking it until they somehow made it.

so she was pleasantly surprised, but not at all unwilling to explain it when toji nodded again, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. she tried to recall how her teachers in high school had taught her these concepts, trying to adapt their tone of voice: patient and understanding. she leaned over to be more at eye level at him, trying to seem less intimidating, and their close proximity was sending her brain into overdrive.

“i hope this makes more sense now,” she said as she wrapped up the explanation.

toji’s lips formed a small ‘o’ shape, and the scar gracing them resembled the greek letter phi, but with the line running over to the right side instead of the middle. if she didn’t need anymore proof that the boy sitting in front of her was perfect, then the angels had just thrown in the winning factor.

phi, the perfect golden constant, now belonged in her mind only to toji fushiguro.

“uh, yeah actually,” he hummed, seemingly appreciative, his eyes sparkling against the dim lighting of the cafe. “thanks so much.”

she couldn’t help it, but she grinned widely. “no problem at all.”

she started to walk away, biting her lip when she turned her back to him, already feeling the bitter sting of disappointment that things would probably be back to normal after yet another deviation. until toji called out, “you’re really good at this. what do you study?”

“physics,” she replied, hoping the shock wasn’t too evident in her voice. “what about you?”

“P.E.,” he answered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. she had to try very hard not to stare at how nice his biceps looked. “i stupidly decided to add a sports biomechanics module as my optional one. kinda regretting it now.”

toji chuckled halfheartedly, and she almost swooned, but opted to tilt her head to the side and say, “oh, but don’t you find it fascinating? it’s the numbers behind the real output of an athlete.”

“oh, well i never really thought about it that way.” he seemed to be genuinely pondering her outlook on the matter, staring hard at the numbers before him, and she felt the blood rising to her cheeks. toji looked back up at her and smiled a devastatingly handsome smile. “i suppose it makes sense for you to think like that.”

she didn’t really know how to reply to that except an, “i guess so,” and then added a polite follow-up of, “what sort of sport do you, then?”

“judo and jujutsu,” toji replied smoothly and completely casually. “i train at the gym before i come here.”

“oh yeah? that’s quite intense.”

“not so much if you enjoy it, really.”

“easy for you to say. you’re obviously in much better shape than the rest of us.”

she almost cringed externally at that.

obviously much better shape? why on earth would you say obviously, stupid?

but toji only chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “hard work, i guess.” he mumbled, staring back at his paper.

she glanced up at the time, noting that it was almost time to close. “well, i’m sorry, but you might have to practice it yourself at home.”

he looked panicked for a second, his eyes darting over to the clock. “oh, yeah. probably.” and started to slowly pack up his things.

she didn’t want to observe him anymore than she already had, so she busied herself by washing their mugs and quickly wiping down the counter for the morning shift, while toji was taking his time neatly packing away his things. was it wishful thinking that perhaps he was stalling. whether it was or wasn’t, she left him to it, switching off the lights everywhere except at the entrance. she swept her eyes over the cafe to make sure she hadn’t missed anything before heading out.

toji stood beside the door, his eyes flitting about anywhere but her, obviously waiting for her to finish locking up. she tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest and smiled awkwardly at him as he finally met her gaze. he shuffled outside before she did, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the nights sky, the silver moon shining between stringy wisps of clouds.

he looked like a scene straight from a movie – a movie where a beautiful boy was up against the weight of the world.

she could see it all clearly now: his scuffed up trainers, canvas bag with dirt stains scraping the bottom of it, the hole in his shirt near the hem. and yet, she knew he had real strength, the quiet sort of kind, that would completely surprise anybody that decided to come at him.

she locked the door behind her, the keys jangling, disturbing the relative quiet of the street. the distant whooping of boisterous students, no doubt drinking and partying away their stress, could be heard a little ways off into the distance. the bright light of the 7-11 across the streets flickered, and she briefly considered buying some cheap dinner before heading home.

she cleared her throat and gave him a small smile. “well, good luck studying.”

toji breathed out a half-hearted laugh. “thanks, i’ll need it.”

“if you’re still having trouble with your calculations, you can always ask me tomorrow,” she reassured, feeling bold enough to assume that his equation would continue to equate to hers.

he seemed to hesitate, as if debating something within his head, and replied, “yeah, sure.” but his tone left much to be desired, and she was already kicking herself for being so direct. “sounds good.”

she bit her lip and mumbled a weak ‘goodnight’ before walking straight into the 7-11 to escape.

| Φ |

the next night in the cafe, after quite a long day of punching numbers into her calculator and her eyes swimming with all sorts of symbols, she was contemplating the sheer power of a supernova explosion.

it was golden hour, and toji had arrived much earlier to study. his deviations from the norm weren't so jarring anymore, and she’d almost come to sort of expect them at this point. he’d actually met her eyes as she prepared his tea, and even offered her a smile and a ‘thank you’.

the time passed on quickly, and soon enough, it was just her, toji, and two other customers – fellow students – inhabiting the same area. it was around 9:17p.m., the usual time for it to be a sacred silence. so when four boys staggered through the door, the bell cried out aggressively from the force of them nearly ripping open the door, completely tearing her from whatever daydreams she had been lost in.

they were cruel, uncaring about her or the other patrons they were disturbing with their raised voices and boisterous behavior. she kept her cool, not letting their jeers and sly comments get to her as she prepared their orders, wanting to get them out of the cafe as soon as she possibly could. one of them was particular unnerving, staring at her more than the others did, a creepy smirk on his lips and dangerous glint in his eyes.

he was like a black hole, and she felt as if she was about to be swallowed alive.

she felt like she couldn’t breath.

as if her body didn’t remember the biomechanical process to allow her to expand her lungs and fill them with sweet air.

were the angels in serious danger of their calculations becoming completely wrong? was her equation to become something twisted and tragic by the end of the night?

when the group left, the evil boy had glanced over his shoulder to give her one last indecipherable look before he took off at a run after his friends. she exhaled shakily, willing her body to remember how to breath, and decided to distract herself by cleaning any and all random nooks and crannies she could find in an effort to distract herself.

oh how she hated them those stupid, idiotic boys – and that their words and manners had such an impact on her.

she’d worked herself into such a state that she hadn’t even noticed toji standing awkwardly at the counter until she turned to sip at her ice-cold tea, and almost yelped in surprise.

“hey,” toji greeted gently, delicate raindrops against a pane of glass. “it’s eleven.”

and so it was as she noted the time on the clock. she wiped her brow and discarded the now completely blackened cleaning cloth into the rubbish. “sorry, i’ll just get the keys now. you head on.”

“no, it’s okay,” he hummed. “take your time. i’ll be outside.”

when she finally finished the usual locking-up routine, toji had resumed that vision of perfection from the previous night, and it was almost impossible to even consider, but he was even more dreamy than before. toji had to have been carved by michealangelo; born of marble and beauty, and forced to to live in this plane of existence. in some rural countryside of japan, at a public university campus, surrounded by bog-standard students trying to scrape through life.

she felt he didn’t really belong here, as if he was already slipping through her fingers, even though he never really was between them to begin with.

“see you tomorrow,” she said in farewell, giving him a small wave and already walking away.

the loud thuds against the pavement reverberated the immediate vicinity, and toji huffed as he caught up to her, “hey, uh, whereabouts do you live?”

“not too far, about a ten-minute walk away,” she replied, almost floored at the fact that he had just run after her. “why?”

“just… you ok if i tag along? i could use the company.”

“…sure?”

they walked side by side in silence, and her mind was going into complete overdrive. she was trying so hard not to be completely floored that somehow, on a random April night, toji fushiguro was walking her home. it was obvious that he was lying about company – perhaps not an outright lie, but it definitely wasn’t the whole truth. time seemed to have passed quicker than it should have, and before she knew it, they had arrived at her accommodation. toji seemed to hover, looking over his shoulder, his body seemingly tense.

“well, this is me,” she announced, jingling her keys for good measure. “huh, are you okay?”

toji was glaring into the darkness, into the twisted labyrinth of twists and turns in between buildings, only really half-listening. “yeah,” he replied tersely, his fists clenching. “you’re staying at home tonight, right?”

she nodded nervously, suddenly hyperaware of the deep, foreboding inkiness of the night. “mhm.”

he turned to her, verdant eyes simmering with something nearly as dark as the sky. “good, i’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“bye, toji.”

but he was already striding off into the labyrinth, off to face the dirt and coal thrown at him, when he himself was made of marble and gold.

| Φ |

a week after toji had walked her home, she had her first final exam, during which the whole time her thoughts were consumed by him.

of toji fushiguro.

toji and his eyes of forests and jade. of his sculpted body, and all the angles and lines that made up his face. his scar that made him golden and perfect, her phi. of how she had seen him on campus the next morning after he walked her home, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, split knuckles raw and red against the marble of his skin. how he’d finally noticed her outside the cafe for the first time and actually smiled at her.

her friends – more so acquaintances who had happened to become close simply because they were on the same course –had noticed the exchange. when toji had walked well out of earshot, they had bombarded her with hushed whisper-yells of excited “oh my god!" and "how did you even get him to smile? i’ve never even heard him speak.”

and she’d shrugged them off, fending off their curiosity with, “oh, he comes to the cafe all the time, that’s all.”

she didn’t want to get into all the details of toji and her. well, just toji really – there was no 'and her'. their time together was a coveted treasure, and she was strangely possessive over it.

that night, as she handed toji his tea, she plucked up the courage to ask, “what happened to your hands?”

toji automatically looked down at them, flexing them as if even mentioning them made them burn with pain. “oh, nothing, just went a bit too hard at training.”

it didn’t occur to her not to believe him until she was staring blankly at the last question of her exam.

she thought of the evil boy in the cafe, of toji staring down into the darkness and looking over his shoulder as if demons were just behind them, and he was the only thing keeping them at bay. maybe he really was doing just that. maybe that’s why he had continued to walk her home every night, as their graphs continued to overlap even more closely together.

she came out of that exam feeling as if some sort of hidden revelation was waiting to be discovered, and by god, how much she loved to solve for a new equation.

toji was already waiting for her at the cafe when she arrived for her shift, an occurrence steadily getting earlier. he immediately took note of her coming in, and his eyes lit up. she smiled brightly at him, offering him two thumbs up, to which he grinned and pushed away his laptop before approached her.

“so, it went well then?” he prompted, the ghost of a smile still playing on his lips.

she poured them both two mugs of tea, and held hers out towards him. “yeah, it wasn’t too bad actually. cheers to that!”

toji chuckled and clinked his mug with hers, the both of them blowing on the tea before sipping it tentatively. he went back to his table, resuming whatever he had been doing, and leaving her to serve the customers. that was perhaps the only drawback of toji arriving earlier - that their time spent together was interrupted. but it also served as a tantalizing countdown to when it was just the two of them.

obviously, their dynamic had shifted dramatically in the past week, and they’d settled into an easy-flowing sequence – something that felt as if phi would be, so perfectly balanced and positively golden. toji seemed to want to unveil the mystery of his equation to her, but bit by bit, which she didn’t mind at all. she loved slowing figuring out the scale of his axes, plotting all his points together, and finally drawing the curve that connected them all.

toji fushiguro could only be described as steady, a mountain that would never bend or break, his roots so profoundly deep that she had to really dig to see them.

he loved his body, but not in a superficial way, but more that it was something he was in control of and could continually improve. she discovered that he drank green tea not just because it was healthy, but because it was cheap. how most of his gym wear had varying sizes of holes, and he carried around a tiny sewing kit in his bag at all times because he sometimes only noticed one when he was out and about.

most importantly, today he had divulged what he wanted for his future.

“i want to get out of this hellhole as soon as i can,” toji had sighed exaggeratedly, stretching his neck backwards. whenever the last customer had left the cafe, he’d drag a chair over to the edge of the counter. not so directly in front of it that he was blocking any customers, but just enough so that they were sitting across from each other.

she rolled her eyes playfully at him, nibbling at the cap of her pen. “oh, how original. you and every other student in this university.”

“well yeah, obviously, but not as much as me,” he retorted.

“what make you so different, then?”

“i’ve always wanted to leave, even before i got here. i want to to go and live in tokyo.”

“tokyo, huh? and what do you wanna do there?”

“well, eventually i want to open my own dojo and teach jujitsu, but i’d probably have to start out as an instructor.”

“oh wow, you’ve got a solid sort of plan. have you always wanted to do that?”

“yeah, i really hate it here.”

and he’d gone quiet, but she didn’t press him. instead, she focused on her textbook because there were still exams to be studied for, and waited for toji to come back to her. where he went in those moments, she didn’t know. there was something lurking in the shadow of the mountain, and he still seemed to be fighting against it even now.

she knew he’d come back to her when he’d lean in closer, cheek against his palm, and try to make sense of whatever diagrams appeared on the pages she was reading.

“that looks cool,” toji murmured, pointing at whatever had piqued his interest. “what is it?”

and she discovered, not that it was a real shock, that toji was so very curious. he wanted to know things, he liked to know how things worked, and he was really clever. she would explain as best as she could, and toji would follow along diligently, nodding his head every so often and asking the occasional question. many people probably underestimated just how smart he really was, but she never did.

“this is a diagram that sort of shows what einstein’s theory of general relativity is all about.”

“ah right, it’s pretty famous then isn’t it? cuz it’s einstein's.”

“haha, i suppose so, yeah.”

“what’s it about?”

she bit her lip and tilted her head, placing her finger as a makeshift bookmark and closed the book between her fingers. “it’s about… how really big objects like planets and stars cause gravity by bending space-time.”

“bending space-time is gravity?”

“it’s because the bigger object has caused smaller ones to be pulled closer to it, if that makes sense.”

toji nodded slowly and laughed. “it’s a bit over my head. how you perfectly understand it is beyond me though.”

“i wouldn’t say perfectly,” she replied bashfully. “but i think it’s a beautiful theory.”

“you think every theory is beautiful.”

“haha! no, well yes, but that’s besides the point!”

“well, what is the point?”

“that something has had such a profound impact, because it’s so big and larger than life that it’s impacting all the other small things around it and pulling them in closer to it.”

toji smiled, the kind of smile he had when he was more vulnerable and soft, when his barriers were down and forgotten about. the way he looked at her made her body jolt with thousands of little lightning bolts.

“yeah,” he mused thoughtfully. “yeah, that is kinda beautiful.”

| Φ |

five days.

that’s how long it had been since she’d seen toji, and she missed him more than she cared to admit, even to herself.

it wasn’t ideal, right smack in the middle of the exam season, to be so distracted by a boy, but toji fushiguro wasn’t just any boy. he was the boy who she spent every day with, and the past two weeks had been a rosy dream as they talked more and more. it was now the middle of may, and she was almost done with sitting all of her exams. she should have been thinking of her future, about a solid career plan, and where she wanted to live.

but no, all she could think of was the laws of physics and toji fushiguro, and counting down the days until she could see him again.

he was currently out on a placement excursion, teaching ten-year-old kids during their regular sports curriculum. it was almost comical, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself whenever she thought of toji surrounded by a bunch of wide-eyed children. he’d already been groaning about it before he left, about this and that, and how much he didn’t like silly kids and their silly faces.

“what are you smiling about?” one of her friends whispered suspiciously, leaning in closer to her so as not to disturb anybody else in the library.

she shook her head, and told a little lie, “oh, just about how close we are to finishing uni. it’s sort of unbelievable.”

her friend raised a brow, clearly not believing her. “sure, and it doesn’t have anything to do with fushiguro?”

“ugh, why do you keep bringing him up all the time? i told you there’s nothing going on there.”

“i’ll believe that when i stop seeing you smiling like an idiot in love. now, c’mon and focus on this.”

love?

no, no. it wasn’t love.

not quite yet, at least, but she knew it was getting there.

she felt a slight tremor in her chest, traveling all the way to the tips of her fingers and then the ends of her toes like an electric current across a wire. it was unfathomably scary to admit it, but it was nothing but the truth.

she was falling for toji fushiguro.

she ducked her head down, her pencil scratching against her notepad as she attempted yet another sample question, endeavouring to distract herself from all thoughts of him for the rest of the study session. as soon as she had to leave for the cafe, she practically shoved her things into her bag and almost ran towards it. toji should be back today, with it being friday and the school week coming to an end.

when she got there, her manager was behind the counter in the midst of serving a customer, and the cafe was reasonably busy. the overwhelming aroma of coffee wafted through her nose, warm and inviting, and familiar. she wondered if toji thought of her whenever he smelt coffee.

she certainly hoped that he did.

“great you’re here,” her manager beamed, handing her an apron to tie around her waist. “i was wondering if you would like to take some time off whenever you finish your exams? my nephew is coming to visit, and i’d like to put him to work instead of him lazing about all day.”

she was immediately hit with a sheer sense of panic. if she didn’t work, then how else was she supposed to see toji? it was so utterly embarrassing and pathetic, that she was so enamored with this boy that she was willing to work just to see him. but then she thought about what would happen after graduation, and how they realistically would not be seeing each other – perhaps ever again.

“sure, that’s alright with me,” is what she finally said after a moment's hesitation, but her manager obviously picked up on her hesitant tone.

“never have i ever seen a student who didn’t want time off work,” they chuckled, hand on their hip. “this has got to do with that dark haired boy, doesn’t it?”

heat creeped up into her cheeks, and she busied herself with pouring a cup of coffee for a customer, as her manager gazed at her in bemusement. “no,” she squeaked out.

“oh to be young again,” they said in a sing-song voice. “don’t worry about not working though, i’m sure that boy would follow you anywhere you go. i’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

she didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

when the moon had risen high into the sky and the shop was empty, she waited and waited for toji. he was late, and he should have been there by now. or maybe he wouldn’t come? she thought it might have been quite bold to assume he would have tonight. he was probably tired from a whole week of teaching, and maybe he had decided to just go home and rest. she couldn’t blame him for that.

but that didn’t stop the soul-crushing disappointment from tearing her in two.

the sky must have felt her distress, because soon enough the pitter-patter of rain falling against the roof ensued. maybe metaphysical pain was real, and maybe she would spend her whole life trying to prove her theory. what a tragic future, she thought, and sniffled as she locked the door behind her.

and then she turned around, and toji was standing there, his chest heaving.

for a moment, they just faced each other. he was all wet, black hoodie all soggy and weighed down, sticking to him like a second skin. his green eyes were alight, looking at her with a mixture of nerves and something else she couldn’t place. toji exhaled shakily, his lashes fluttering as he blinked fast.

“sorry,” he mumbled. “i tried to get here sooner, but there was an accident and my train was delayed.”

her heart melted; she felt as if she was one with the rain puddles in the dips of the pavement, one with the water pooling beneath toji’s feat. could it be love already? maybe her loved ones, wiser and older than her would have said it was, but she felt too young to know it.

and yet, here was a boy standing in front of her, who had run through the rain and labyrinth of buildings to get here.

“oh, toji,” she gushed, instinctively opening up her umbrella and shielding him from the torrent of the sky. “you’ll get sick.”

she didn’t realize just how close they were together, trapped underneath the tiny space, until toji was staring down at her. a water droplet dropped from his hair, over the ridge of his nose, caressing over his cupids bow and parted lips, all the way down to his chin and onto her lip.

she shivered, feeling as if their lips may as well have touched.

“it doesn’t matter,” toji whispered, in that deep, almost sad tone that belonged only to him, and she finally admitted internally just how much she missed his voice. “it’s only water.”

they stood there staring at each other for a heartbeat too long, until she broke the silence with, “let’s get out of here.”

and then they set off at a slow, shuffling pace, the backs of their hands and shoulders brushing against each other, and she thought a live spark might just ignite off her skin. the rain sounded like little stones tumbling off the top of the umbrella, and the smell of the wet pavement served as little momentary distractions against the all-consuming feeling of toji beside her.

she didn’t want it to end, and so when they reached the entrance to her accommodation, and turned to face him. “you can’t go home like this. do you want to come inside and dry off?”

toji’s eyebrows shot up, and he almost looked like a deer in the headlights. he was fighting within himself; she could see it in the way his hand flexed, his knuckle touching hers. “i’ll just make your floor wet though,” he muttered, looking down at the ground.

“it doesn’t matter,” she urged, and added a desperate. “please.”

that seemed to snap him out of whatever internal deliberation he was having, and toji nodded. “okay then.”

she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, almost immediately turning towards the door to hide most of it from him, taking out the keys from her pocket and fumbled with one hand to grab the correct one for her door. his proximity behind her was beyond distracting, her back felt like the south side of a magnet, and toji was her north. it would be too easy to fall back into him, and so she endeavored to root her feet into the ground and resist the urge.

she finally opened it and they passed through the unwelcoming vibes of the main lobby, toji’s shoes squelching loudly with every step he took. the student behind the desk glancing uninterestedly up at them, and then sharply looked back up, staring with saucer eyes at toji in tow behind her.

she once again fought with her keys, the sound echoing throughout the empty corridor, and pushed open the door to her shared dorm. it was compact but efficient for two people to live comfortably together. her flatmate was curled up on the sofa with her boyfriend, shui, in the main living area, only lit up by whatever was on the tv.

“roomie!” her roommate called out, oblivious to toji’s presence. “how was studying today?”

“yeah, great,” she answered, glancing back at toji awkwardly standing by the door. “you?”

“all goo- oh! oh. hello there!” her roommate finally registered toji’s presence as the door clicked shut behind him, immediately jumping out of shiu’s arms, who also looked back over his shoulder in intrigue.

“hey,” toji mumbled, a puddle of water now collecting over the white tiles.

shiu waved his hand at toji, who flicked his chin upwards in acknowledgment. she immediately turned to her roommate, “hey, you think you have something from shui’s he could borrow?”

her roommate sprung into action, scrambling off the sofa. “yeah, yeah! sorry! i’ll be right back.”

toji remained where he was, stationary as a rock, his emerald orbs flicking every which way. she wondered what he was thinking, but she was too consumed by the monumental event that he was really standing there in her living room to dwell on it.

her roommate burst out of her room, smiling brightly as she handled a bundle of clothes to toji. “there you go! the bathroom’s just to the left there.”

he strode straight to the bathroom, his eyes meeting hers just before he closed the door.

“girl,” her roommate excitedly whispered, vigorously grabbing her forearms. “what the- what is going on? i didn’t know you and fushiguro were together.”

“we’re not together,” she rebuked, biting her lip. “we’re just… friends.”

her roommate scoffed, nearly bouncing up and down in glee. “shiu, you know this is the first time she’d brought a boy home.”

shiu hummed quietly, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips. “that’s great, babe.”

her roommate scoffed, rolling her eyes at him, and her grip tightened just a fraction. “is he spending the night? oh my god, you both should stay and watch a movie with us.”

“oh, i don’t think he’ll stay…”

“girl, just go and get changed into something else, and i’ll talk to him when he comes out. you know people can’t say no to me.”

before she knew it, she was being pushed into her room, and the door was slammed behind her. she breathed out shakily, sliding against her wardrobe with her head in her hands. her heart was racing, and fuck fuck fuck, what the hell was she thinking bringing toji here?

she heard the bathroom door open, and the quiet baritone of toji’s voice mingled with her roommate's bubbly one. the words ‘pizza’ and ‘movie’ were mentioned, and she rushed to shimmy off her clothes and into her slightly better-looking loungewear, checking her hair was presentable enough. when she quietly opened her door, toji had his back towards her, wearing a black t-shirt that was a size too small and grey joggers that hugged his thick thighs.

he turned to face her, and the tense look on his face relaxed. her roommate piped up from the sofa, “hey! i was just saying that toji should stay and watch a movie with us while his clothes dry.”

she bit the inside of her cheek, and softly said to him, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

toji looked between her and her roommate, before replying with a low, “i’ll stay.”

her roommate clapped her hands together. “great! i’ll order the pizza.”

she walked over to the adjacent sofa to shiu, and hesitantly sat down on one edge of the sofa. toji followed and lowered himself onto the other empty side, leaving a space of everything and nothing between them. soon enough, her roommate returned and plonked herself right in between shiu’s spread legs, shuffling through the channels until she settled on a movie. the pizza arrived some time into the movie, and the four of them helped themselves. she couldn’t help but steal glances at toji, his face illuminated by the tv's glow as he brought a cheesy slice of pizza to his mouth, his expression blank and unreadable.

whatever way the angels must be solving her cosmic equation, they were obviously applying toji’s formula. their numbers were intertwining, creating a new constant, and she wondered what sort of symbol would represent the two of them.

toji met her gaze, and the corner of his lip curled upward.

after the movie had ended, her roommate had ushered a bemused shiu into her room and wiggled her fingers in an excited goodbye. “shh,” she’d giggled, while shiu rolled his eyes at her, tugging on the sleeve of her pyjama top. “don’t make too much noise, you two.”

and with that, she shut the door, leaving them alone.

together.

in her living room, on the same sofa.

“do you, uh, want to watch something else?” she murmured, her legs folded beneath her.

toji breathed out a quiet laugh. “please. i’m sorry, but that movie was actually so bad.”

she nearly snorted, clapping her hand over her mouth in an effort to contain her giggle. “yeah, it was pretty shit.”

the clock above the tv read 1:42 a.m., and she wondered if toji was tired. she assumed he would be after waking up so early to teach a bunch of energetic children. “you want some tea? i was just going to make some,” she asked, her ankles cracking as she rose from the sofa.

toji slapped his thighs, and steadily got up as well. “sure, but i should really get going soon. i don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“spend the night,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “none of us would mind, i promise.”

she then stupidly, pathetically even, held out her pinky towards him. toji frowned, clearly confused. “what are you doing?”

“a pinky promise.”

“oh right, yeah.”

he curled his pinky around hers, and a tiny electric shock sparked between them. she hissed and drew her hand back, but their eyes met, and they both erupted into a fit of hushed giggles, which only served to make them laugh harder.

“okay, you stick something on tv and i’ll make the tea,” she grinned, her bare feet softly padding on the floor as she went over to the kitchen.

as the kettle boiled, she watched toji flicking aimlessly through the channels, his face contorting when he came across something he didn’t like. he settled back onto the sofa, legs spread out as he reclined, mop of thick hair resting against the armrest. the shock of having him her in her home had faded now, and it felt almost natural for them to be around each other in this way. she brought over his mug filled with green tea, and he looked up at her gratefully as he took it from her. she sat down on the other sofa, stretching her legs out. toji’s eyes were slightly red, and he was yawning great big yawns, with the mug delicately balanced on his chest and one arm behind his head. the tv was on a low volume, and she wanted to pause time, even just for a while.

“hey, just lemme know when you wanna sleep. you can sleep in my room,” she murmured, hands grasping both sides of her mug, feet rubbing against each other.

toji looked over at her, a scowl playing on his features. “and where are you going to sleep, the sofa?”

“well, yeah.”

“no.”

“but you’re the guest!”

“shut up, no.”

“bu-”

“no.”

she huffed playfully, throwing a hand up in surrender, to which toji smirked at. they sat in comfortable silence, watching some silly competition show play on. despite the tea, she could feel herself becoming sleepier by the minute. she looked over at toji, who seemed perfectly content to lie there and watch the contestants make complete fools of themselves.

“bet that guy’s gonna fall off,” he mumbled, his arms folded over his chest. she only hummed in response, her cheek squished against a pillow, and toji grunted, “you the sleepy one now?”

she laughed, which interrupted her yawn. “maybe.”

“go to sleep then. don’t stay up for me.”

oh, how much he didn’t know about how long she would stay up for him, and how long she would really wait. but she couldn’t say anything except, “you sure?”

“yeah, yeah, i’m cool here.”

“hold on, lemme get you a blanket and pillow before i go.”

she returned promptly with them, kneeling down to place them on the floor beside him. when she looked up, she didn’t realize just how close his face was to hers. toji’s eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes.

she gulped.

“good night,” he whispered.

“night,” was all she could muster before overcoming the magnetism between them and walking away.

| Φ |

the final stretch.

a flurry of pens on paper, pounding hearts, a tripwire of nerves, and then…

“time’s up! everyone please put down your pens. the exam is officially concluded.”

she leaned back in her seat, a sheer sense of awe crawling over her. this was it, she was done. her last university exam, all of it was finally over after three long years. her fellow students were of similar sentiment, with wide, nervous smiles, as if they all couldn’t really believe this was happening, as the smacks of numerous pats on the back reverberated through the hall.

the sun was shining on her face as she exited the exam hall, warm and inviting, promising that the hope for the future wasn’t unfounded. they were all high on life, with the thought that the world was their oyster, and they would all be lucky enough to find their own pearls.

“oh my god,” her friend groaned exaggeratedly, hands on her knees as if she’d just run a marathon. “it’s over.”

"yeah, it is," she hummed in agreement, basking in the sheer awe of the moment.

her friend barked out a laugh and clasped her hands together. “right then, i’m going to get ready for the party tonight. you are coming, right?”

“yeah of course,” she confirmed, shocking even herself that she would be going out. “we can only celebrate this once.”

her friend squealed, pulling her into a big hug before breaking away and trotting off. “bring fushiguro! maybe you both can get drunk and finally kiss,” she called out over her shoulder.

a few students looked over at her, and the embarrassment was almost crushing. she’d come to understand now that everyone on campus knew who toji fushiguro was. he was renowned for his adonis figure, the kind of handsome that only existed in fiction, and the fact he most certainly wasn’t associated with any girls or went to any parties.

until perhaps now, of course.

later that night at the cafe, as she fidgeted at her spot behind the counter, she plucked up the courage to ask toji, “so, you can totally say no if you don’t want to come, but there’s a party that’s happening in my building to celebrate the end of exams.”

toji looked up from reading her quantum mechanics textbook she had brought and grunted, “a party, huh. you going?”

“yeah, i’ll be heading over after closing up,” she replied, a bit deflated that he hadn’t seemed to notice she had dressed up quite a bit from her usual attire.

he hummed, nodded, and went back to reading. “i’ll see how i feel.”

that was no definitive reply, and she picked apart his usual baritone and analyzed in her mind as she went through a back-and-forth internal debate, trying to deduce some sort of meaning from it. she’d arrived to the party about an hour ago, and she was still thinking about it as she sipped away at some fruit-flavored punch that was far too delicious and dangerous for someone who didn't really drink. her lips were already numb, and the creeping giddiness was making her feel the joyousness of all that life is and would be.

her course mates had their arms around her shoulders, all of them loudly singing, more slurring really, in a circle to whatever song was thumping through the speakers. a part of her wanted to loose herself in the silliness of it all; it gave her courage and made her seem capable of things she would never have even dreamed of sober.

“oh my- don’t look, but fushiguro is actually here,” her friend slurred through her ear, nearly shouting and sending a ringing noise piercing through her eardrum.

she turned around, and sure enough, there was toji fushiguro pushing his way through the throng of students dancing in the cramped apartment they had decided to congregate in. his green eyes met hers, and relief ran over his features. it was cheesy, as well as completely impossible, but time seemed stretch and distort, slowing to a crawl the closer he got to her. her friend released her from the circle, giving her a calculated shove and sending her stumbling over her own feet.

straight into toji’s waiting arms.

“oh, fuck,” he shouted as he caught her, holding her forearms in a firm grip. “you okay?”

she stared up at him, the alcohol running through her blood making her lips spread into a big, dopey smile, and giggled, “yeah, you’re here.”

she could have sworn the tips of his ears turned pink, but the flashing, multicoloured lights made it too hard to make it out properly. it took her far too long to realize that toji still hadn’t let go of her arms, even as her punch had spilled on them both, and as even more people stared and bumped into them.

“you want a drink?” she shouted, standing up on her tiptoes to reach his ear.

toji grimaced. “no thanks, i don’t drink.”

“oh yeah, you’re a proper athlete and all,” she hiccuped, her body flushing with heat and the sound of the music.

he only laughed at that, his emerald eyes twinkling with possibilities.

| Φ |

“be careful,” toji hissed as he quickly moved to steady her as she tripped over the doorway into her dorm. “jesus, you’re a mess.”

“i-hiccup! no, no i’m a ss-shtar,” she wallowed, chuckling madly at her own antics. “ssstar! star.”

“yes, yes, a star, definitely,” toji mumbled, closing the door behind them, and maneuvering her securely along with him.

“hehe, am i youuuur star, toji?” she giggled, her legs giving out from underneath her, suddenly turning into jelly.

he snorted, using her strength to lift her off the floor and into his arms. “yes, you are. now c’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

her head rolled against his chest, her head swimming in a pool of red stars and blue moons, all of them circulating around a green sun. “go onnn, you have to say i’m yo-hiccup-ur star!”

“you’re my star. now c’mon, get into bed.”

as soon as he laid her underneath her duvet, her head started to pound and swirl the moment she closed her eyes. her stomach lurched like she was actually free-falling, and she groaned loudly. toji kneeled down in front of her, his face oh so very close to hers.

“what’s wrong? you wanna get sick?” he asked, forest eyes deep and ethereal as they took in her probably smeared makeup.

“i close my eyes and it feels bad,” she mumbled, feeling childish as her silliness became too much for even her not-so-sober state to listen to.

toji settled into a more comfortable sitting position, and she could feel his breath caressing her face. “tell me about something then, don’t think about it.”

“like-hiccup what?”

“anything. talk to me about stars, or whatever.”

“stars, really? okay… did you know, that there’s -hic- all different colors?”

“no, i didn’t actually. why’s there so many?”

“cuz they’re all different temperatures, that’s why.”

“that’s really cool. tell me about all the colors.”

“ohh, well there’s blue stars, those're the hottest one. and then there’s…”

| Φ |

she woke up to a throbbing headache and a burning stomach.

her eyes ached as light filtered through the opaque grey curtains of the window, and the white wall beside her bed was the first thing she saw when she finally peeked her eyes open. it was dreadfully plain and uninteresting, but rolling over to the other side to avoid it was another sort of unnecessarily difficult task.

she almost threw up when she saw toji lying there on the floor.

“toji?” she whispered urgently. “toji?! are you awake?”

he grunted in annoyance and rolled over to face her, his midnight hair all messy on a pillow he had procured from who knows where, although there was no blanket to be seen. the scarred side of his lip twitching as he flitted somewhere in between the realm of dreams and sleep.

oh how her heart was absolutely swooning at the sight.

she smiled to herself, quietly watching him sleep and quickly forgetting about how ill she felt, because none of that mattered. only that she could hear the scratching of quills, ruffling feathers, and the soft music playing, telling her that this was it.

she was in love with toji fushiguro.

there was no other way around it.

no more denying it to herself or anyone else – she loved him.

the boy who slept on a rock-hard floor beside her all night, listening to her drunk and probably terrible explanations about stars and who knows what else.

green orbs peeked out from hooded lids, and toji mumbled, “what’re you lookin at?”

she bit her lip, trying to contain her giddiness at her own sudden revelation, and reached over to poke his hand. “you. why didn’t you sleep on the sofa?”

toji's eyes fully opened, and he grabbed her finger and tugged gently. “cause, what if you needed to get sick and tripped in the dark? you might be a star, but you don’t actually shine, you know?”

“hah, you’re hilarious,” she retorted, letting him waggle her finger with his hand. “what else did i say, then?”

“that i’m the nicest person on earth for staying with you, and that i deserve free green tea from now on.”

“chancer, i definitely didn’t.”

“but how do you know you definitely didn’t?”

a loud knock at her door jolted them both out of their banter, and her roommate belted from the other side, “oi, lovebirds! we’re all going to get breakfast, want to come with?”

she looked expectantly at toji, who shrugged and mouthed ‘sure’, and answered back, “yeah, be out in a sec!”

“lovebirds, huh?” toji mumbled, as he intertwined their fingers, the corner of his lip curling upwards.

oh, angels in heaven above…

“shut up.”

| Φ |

the month of june was of blue skies and scorching pavements.

of far too many melted vanilla and matcha ice-creams dripping onto their clothes. of heat mirages and the cool, sweet relief of air-conditioned cafes and shopping malls. of lying on dried-out, yellowed grass at night, their sweaty hands firmly holding each other, while looking up at the midnight sky and divulging all their deepest secrets.

it was when she learned how toji got the scar on his lip.

he was twiddling with the hem of her baby pink t-shirt, not quite looking at her. “my cousins used to bully me when i was a kid,” he admitted quietly.

her gaze snapped over to him, soul aching for him. “toji, that’s awful.”

birds twittered loudly in a nearby tree.

then, it was quiet for a while.

she didn’t know what to say really, except, “did you tell anyone?”

toji shook his head, trailing a finger up and down her bare arm. “my parents kinda dismissed it like it wasn’t happening. i think they didn’t want to stir things within the family, even when the fuckers took it too far one day and caused this."

he paused, took a shaky breath, and with a voice tinged with bitterness he continued, “they held me down and threatened me with razor blades, and one of 'em accidentally slipped.”

“i’m so sorry,” she whispered, not knowing quite else to say, and rolled over onto her side to face him.

“it’s alright, i’m over it,” toji mumbled, returning to lying on his back, his arm behind his head. “but it’s why i've been studying so hard, so i can get the hell out of here. my family lives quite close by, you see.”

“right, and tokyo is about as far away as you can get.”

“yeah, pretty much.”

“and that’s why you didn’t speak to anyone at uni. you knew you'd just be moving on anyways, so there was no point making friends."

“mhm.”

she chewed the inside of her cheek. “so, what made me different?”

toji turned his head to face her, his gaze holding a gentleness she'd never seen before, “because… you’re you,” he said, as if that alone would explain everything.

she looked away, staring up at the sky again. it was silent for some time before she finally asked, “have i ever explained what quantum entanglement is to you before?”

“don’t think so, but go on.”

“it’s when two particles are so deeply connected, that it doesn’t matter even if they’re separated. the connection will always be there, and they’ll always affect each other. the distance between them doesn't matter either, because they still belong to each other.”

toji was quiet for a long time.

she wondered if he understood the deeper meaning behind what she was actually trying to say. she had never explicitly said to him that she loved him, and perhaps this was the only way she could say it - in the only way she knew how to. it was too late to turn back now anyway.

suddenly, toji pushed his upper body off the ground and sat upwards, his back turned to her.

he was breathing fast, too fast, and her heart started to beat frantically.

“toji?” she called out, fear lacing her words, her heart breaking in two at the mere thought of him rejecting all of this this – rejecting her.

toji turned to her, and whispered with glossy eyes, his words almost barely audible, “it’s you. it’s you. it’s you, and i love you.”

with that, he practically fell on top of her, their lips finally meeting in what seemed like an inevitable occurrence. like an eclipse or the death of a star, but none of that mattered. because here she was, with toji fushiguro.

and he loved her.

he loved her, as her lips parted for him and their tongues swirled together, and she thought he tasted of vanilla.

she loved him, as he tenderly held the back of her head, and she melted into him like the ice creams they savoured every day.

they loved each other, as their hands dipped underneath their shirts, exploring the dips and valleys of each other's bodies.

the universe was never more perfect than in that very moment.

| Φ |

the very next week, they went on their first official date.

“i’ll swing by your place at eight o’clock, is that okay?” toji asked her over the phone, as she lazed about in her bed in a dream-like, rosy trance.

she hummed, rolling onto her back and kicking her legs in the air. “sure. what are we doing?”

“never you mind your brilliant little head about it. just be ready, okay?”

“hehe, okay.”

“okay, i’ll see you later… i love you.”

“i love you too.”

with that, he ended the call, and she was left counting down the hours until she would see him. she got ready in good time, being careful to shave every bit of hair on her body, being meticulous as she plucked her brows perfectly. she hadn’t thought of sex since her subpar experience with it during her first year, and had since locked it out of her mind. not that she even thought they would be doing something like that.

at least, not until she had spied a box of condoms under the bathroom sink cabinet.

and now, it was all she could think about.

just after eight p.m., there was a prompt knock on the door, and she breathed out shakily before opening it. and there was her boy, her toji, holding a bouquet of half a dozen red roses, with a blush gracing his cheeks nearly as colorful as the blooms in his hands.

“hey,” he greeted with a handsome, crooked smile, his eyes sweeping up and down her figure. “you look beautiful. i hope you like italian food.”

and all her bundle of nerves dissipated. “yeah,” she replied breathlessly. “i do.”

toji took her to a small restaurant not too far from her dorm, roughly a fifteen-minute walk away. it was quirky, with cobblestone walls and a warm ambience, designed really for students with not much money in their pockets.

but it was just perfect.

it was natural, the way it was always meant to be. with her sitting there in a dainty summer dress, and toji in his usual black t-shirt and jeans, who was looking at her like she was his whole universe.

after they were done with their meal, he’d shooed her away from even trying to pay for the bill, which he took care of in battered notes and loose change. then, they walked hand in hand in the warm summer breeze back to her dorm. she prattled on excitedly about how she was looking for internships at various firms in tokyo, and toji was smiling as he listened to her finally start to figure out the answers to her future equation.

though, maybe not just her future.

they finally entered the safe space of her dorm, her roommates absence filling it with a sad eeriness. she looked at him shyly, fiddling with her fingers behind her back, and asked, “you want some tea?”

toji hummed, taking his shoes off at the door. “sure, thanks.”

she was grateful he said yes, it gave her something to do with her shaky hands. she reached upwards to the cabinet to grab their mugs. the two twin beige, somewhat grey, mugs that always sat beside each other. they clinked loudly against the counter, and she flicked the kettle switch on.

and then, toji’s warm hands were on her hips, and her mind went blank.

“i love you,” he mumbled, his lips soft and wet as they trailed against the curve of her neck. “you’re my star, and i love you.”

he was repeating ‘i love you’ like a mantra he couldn’t quite believe was true, and even a part of her was still amazed that it actually was. she turned to face him, tea well and truly forgotten about, and wrapped her arms around his neck to place her lips between his. toji hummed gently into her mouth, his hands sliding down to grip her behind, pulling her closer into him.

it was a nebula explosion after that.

a stumbling mess of them making their way to her bedroom with their lips interlocked, bodies pressed close together as they ripped their clothes off each other. giggling like naughty children when she struggled to tug her dress off.

“you’re hopeless,” toji groaned playfully, tapping her nose with his finger, before smoothly sliding her dress from her body.

she pouted, crossing her arms over her bare chest. “am not.”

he shushed her softly, pulling her into him once more in a fiery kiss, and they fell gently onto the bed. toji kneaded her breasts, eliciting a moan from her as his mouth traveled slowly from her lips, down to her neck and caressing her collarbone, flicking her hard nipple with his tongue.

“hmm, you feelin good, baby?” toji murmured, looking up at her with hooded lids, forest eyes blazing with desire reserved just for her. “not too much?”

"n-no," she stuttered, fisting his black locks between her fingers, scratching the back of his scalp and making him groan.

toji parted his lips, his breath blowing softly and tickling her nipple, and she shivered and slightly arched her back in anticipation. he teased her with his tongue, licking her hard bud with a featherlight touch, and she gasped, “toji, please.”

with that, he took her nipple in his mouth, steaming hot and so wet as his tongue swirled around it. she moaned loudly, arching herself into his body, and he placed a strong hand on the small of her back to pull her in.

she thought that if toji pulled her in any closer, they would surely melt into each other and become one.

her legs parted of their own accord, and her hips were pure instinct as she ground her slick pussy on his thigh, the ridges of the powerful muscle stimulating her perfectly and sending jolts of pleasure through her core. toji smiled against her nipple, giving it one last suck, letting it go with a dirty pop! and traveled back up to her face, his lips brushing hers.

“who knew,” he whispered, pressing soft kisses along the bridge of her nose. “that all this would happen from drinking green tea.”

she giggled, and held his face in her hands, bringing his lips back home to hers. “i need you, toji,” she breathed out, breaking their kiss. “can i have you?”

toji smiled, touched his forehead to hers and murmured, “you can always have me, sweetheart. tell me what you want.”

“i want you,” she begged, her arousal making her more mindlessly desperate by the second. “i’m yours, toji. make me yours.”

he snapped.

his lips captured hers once more in a searing kiss so molten hot, she was sure she would burn and be consumed by his fire. toji’s hands moved down to himself, freeing his hard cock from his boxers with a little slap noise as it hit against her lower stomach. he pressed his hips into her and settled in between her legs, his hard and flushed dick feeling a thousand times hotter against her skin than his lips did.

toji moved his hips, his cock wetting against her folds, the slick sounds lewd and utterly intoxicating, as he pushed further into her with every back and forth motion.

further.

and further.

she moaned loudly as he finally sunk deep into her wet walls, painfully slow and deliciously agonising.

“oh, fuck baby,” toji groaned, his face in her neck, as he buried himself to the hilt. “you’re -ah!- so fuckin beautiful. my beautiful girl.”

her nails dug into his shoulder, and toji bent her legs to fold them, rutting further into her. she whined at the deeper connection, feeling his cock flex inside her. he stilled with their chests pressed tightly together, and she could feel his heart pumping hard.

“t-toji,” she gasped, throwing her head back as she felt his balls against the curve of her ass.

the tip of his dick rubbing against that spongy spot that made her see stars behind her eyelids. he started shallowly thrusting, deliberately slow, holding her head so lovingly she felt she was going to burst.

this was heaven, she thought.

toji was heaven – her phi.

the golden ratio, found in all remarkable and beautiful things on the planet.

all her life, all the combinations of numbers, formulas, and sequences had to have been carefully calculated to lead up to him, to this moment.

toji sucked and kissed just below her ear, his muscled thighs flexing as he increased the pace just a fraction, and she clenched around him, feeling the veins of his cock rubbing exquisitely inside her. she tightly squeezed his bicep as the sounds of her squelching pussy and slapping of their bodies going plap! plap! plap! filled the room, and the smell of sex and toji wafted through her nose.

“look at us,” he cooed, stroking her cheek. “makin such a mess on your bed.”

she looked down to where their bodies met, and sure enough, there was a ring of white cream at the base of toji’s cock pumping in and out of her, dripping messily down onto a damp spot on the bedsheets beneath them. his toned abs had a thin sheen of sweat, and they flexed and rippled as he really started to pound into her.

her pussy clenched around him again at the thought of him chasing his pleasure high from her body, and she kissed him fervently. toji moaned into her mouth, his balls tightening more and more. her orgasm was exponentially building, like the pressure of boiling water molecules hitting against the walls of a sealed container.

“let go, baby” toji murmured huskily, his hips snapping at an even faster pace. “let go.”

and she did, throwing her head back and almost screaming, her legs shaking violently.

a supernova imploded somewhere at the other end of a distant universe. stars flew across the blackness behind her squeezed-shut eyelids, leaving behind a glittering trail of stardust. toji groaned into her neck, and she felt hot ropes of his cum spurt against her walls, his legs the only thing powering his body through his high.

she wrapped her arms around his neck as he stilled, half-hard cock still plugged inside her. they were huffing and panting into each other, their shared sweat making them stick to each other.

“i love you,” toji whispered, full of reverence, full of life.

she kissed him softly, rubbing their noses together. “i love you too.”

| Φ |

it was early july now; their exam results had been released, and graduations were finally right around the corner.

“you should go toji!” she exclaimed, cupping her mug of lukewarm tea with both hands, watching him intently from her spot on the sofa as he did some stretches. “you’ve worked so hard for this.”

he grunted, but from effort or annoyance, she couldn’t tell. “i can’t be bothered, seriously, and i’m not interested in standing on a stage and be the only person without parents cheering them on.”

she didn’t press it further after that.

instead, she cast one last longing look at his muscles rippling as he stretched, and resumed perusing through internship advertisements on her laptop.

they had settled into an oddly domestic routine for the past few weeks. she would work in the cafe during the day, while toji trained ever harder at the gym. he would swing by and pick her up as she finished her shift in the early hours of the afternoon, and they would cook dinner and hang around the dorm. the weather was getting far too hot for leisurely walks during the day, and so they had mostly passed the time by making love and talking about everything and anything at all.

toji kissed the top of her head, squatting behind her, quite clearly finished with his stretches as his eyes skimmed over the tab open on her laptop. “still nothin, baby?”

she sighed, rubbing his hand that was gently massaging her shoulders. “no.”

“you’ll find something, don’t worry. it’ll happen. let’s just focus on celebrating your graduation next week.”

her graduation.

she still couldn’t believe it.

next week, she would be graduating, and the week after that, saying goodbye to her accommodation – her home – for the last three years of her life. saying farewell to her manager and the little cafe that had been so good to her, and not just because it had brought her and toji together. the stress was mounting to find something, anything, in tokyo, because she refused to even entertain the idea of going backwards and returning home.

and because she absolutely could not bear to be so far away from toji either.

the thought alone was soul-crushing.

she heard the shower faucet running in the bathroom, and a wave of loneliness hit her. why exactly, she wasn’t sure, but she chased after toji into the bathroom.

he stared as she burst in, a thick brow raised in startled confusion, as soap suds trickled down his face and back. “what? you find somethin?”

clothes be damned, she stepped into the shower and kissed him with all the energy and emotion she could muster. toji was taken aback for a second, hesitatingly circling his arms around her, and then melting into her.

it was then that she decided.

she would rather her body combust, and all her atoms disperse into the atmosphere before even trying to live without toji fushiguro.

| Φ |

it was the night before her graduation, and she was a nervous wreck.

“oh, toji,” she gushed, dipping the razor she was holding into a bowl of soapy water and giving it a little shake. “i hate getting up in front of people. i might just not go. it doesn’t really matter anyway, does it?”

toji hummed, brows furrowed at her, but remained unable to respond unless he wanted to get soap in his mouth. she flicked away the excess water from the razor and carefully shaved underneath toji’s chin. he’d really let his stubble grow out, and since he was adamant about attending her graduation, it meant that the scruff would just have to go.

“nugh- y’re goin,” toji mumbled through pursed lips. “y’re too shmart t'not go.”

“and you’re too smart to have missed yours, but here we are,” she retorted, her tongue poking out from the side of her lip in concentration. “now stop talking, or you’ll get cut.”

toji grumbled and huffed from his nose, sending a soap sud flying onto her bare arm, and he snorted in amusement. she was sat on top of the kitchen counter next to the sink, with toji standing in between her legs, his hands kneading her plush thighs every so often. she was deep in thought, the only sound the gentle scratching of the blade, and started going through a mental checklist of everything she needed to prepare for tomorrow morning.

her light green kimono for the ceremony was already laid out on her roommate's old bed, zori shoes and tabi socks neatly placed beside it, but her hair pins and accessories still needed to be picked out. oh no, she hadn’t even decided on a-

“ow, fuck!”

she snapped out of her thoughts as toji hissed in pain, ruby-red pearls of blood already blooming from his lip.

oh no…

please god, no...

she’d cut his scar, reopening the top layer of delicate flesh.

“toji! fuck, i’m sorry,” she panicked, as he pulled away from her in a flash, his fingers pressing down on his lip. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to!

she slid off the counter, immediately trying to go over and help him, but toji practically growled, “don’t fucking touch me.”

her body froze, a cold shock of dread spreading from her head straight down to her stomach where it pooled uncomfortably. “toji?” she called out, her heart cracking and lip quivering. “it’s me. it’s only me.”

she’d never seen him like this before, backed up against the wall like an injured animal, his green eyes widened, breathing quickened, and nostrils flared, as if he was about to lash out at anything and everything. he held her worried gaze, but there was nothing except a cold emptiness behind him.

there was no trace of the boy she knew and loved.

“oh, toji. please,” she begged, fat droplets of tears running down the apples of her cheeks. "let me help you."

toji madly scrambled away, grabbing his shoes, and was out the door as if he’d never been there to begin with.

| Φ |

toji never came home that night.

she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, after calling him numerous times with no answer, waiting for him to walk back through the door until she couldn’t possibly keep her eyes open any longer. when she woke up groggily, her eyes still heavy from sleep and crying, she went about the arduous task of getting herself ready for graduation.

she hoped, no, prayed to the angels solving her equation to apply some sort of magic formula that would bring toji back to her. she had to believe he would show up to the ceremony; he just had to show. she didn’t even want to think about trying to calculate for the probability of him not showing up.

but the day went by in a hazy, slow blur of camera flashes, ostentatious flower bouquets, and toothy grins of parents and graduates. she played the part perfectly, a walking empty shell of a human, hugging and smiling with her loved ones. when her name was called to receive her diploma, nothing else mattered except trying to catch a glimpse of toji’s face in the audience.

but she couldn’t see him.

a foolish part of her hoped that he was standing right at the back of the auditorium, wearing that soft smile she loved so much whenever he looked at her.

that’s all it was though – foolish.

eventually, she returned back to her dorm in a numb daze, blinking slowly as her eyes swept over her soon-to-be-old home.

there was no trace of toji.

not his black sliders by the door.

not his toothbrush in the holder in the bathroom.

not his canvas bag or dirty gym clothes in the washing basket.

nothing at all.

she collapsed to the floor in a heap, her hands shakily procuring her phone from her clutch purse, and dialled toji’s number.

beep. beep. beep.

“sorry, but the number you have called does not exist. ple-”

she snapped her phone shut, and hoped that her angels could hear the gut-wrenching scream that clawed its way out of her throat and reverberated around the empty walls of the dorm.

| Φ |

the first law of thermodynamics states that energy can never be created or destroyed, only changing from one form to another.

that was all she think of as she curled into a fetal position on the cold, hard tiles of the apartment, teeth chattering as she repeated the law over and over again. the very marrow of her bones felt frozen solid, her fingernails harshly kissing crescent moons into her palm so hard that was she sure she must have bled by now.

but she didn’t care.

her heart was tearing itself apart, a war of raw muscle and heartstrings against the merciless, cruel force of love clashing inside of her chest.

her energy, what was it?

was it love?

for the numbers and greek letters she puzzled over for hours on end, contemplating all of the universe's workings and mysteries. or was it for toji fushiguro? for the dark-haired boy who had taught to her love something else other than her calculations and green tea. to love life and all the little joys that came along with it, and that she was worth infinitely more than what she thought of herself.

if her energy was love, then what would it change into?

hate, rage?

both?

maybe the angels could mercifully apply the catastrophic formula of death, and prove her life's equation to be null and false. her body would dissolve back into dust and atoms that would find their way back to toji, hovering tantalisingly closely to him, but never to touch him again. would his body know hers, even if he could never hope to see her? would he sense her and smile, as he remembered the quiet, young love they once shared?

she liked to imagine that he would smile.

her teeth clattered loudly, and her arms disappeared into the sleeves of her kimono.

how strange, the music is louder than its ever been.

scratching of quills.

a splash of ink and a teardrop.

and the scroll was flipped over to a blank side.

| Φ |

438 notes · View notes