#the sun vanished theory

[kissurcomput3rr]

random tsv theory i thought up:

this might be farfetched, but what if tsv got harvested?? basing off the sun in the video of him fucking dying, i think the harvested do actually see the sun. (or atleast hallucinate it.) Back in tsv's neighbors notebook guide, the last page before they pretty much went insane from presumably looking at the red strobe light

They very clearly stated in their final message that the sun is back. further kinda showing that the harvested hallucinate the sun coming back. They also seem to have some sort of consciousness and awareness (?) even AFTER they look at the light because of the previous things they wrote, like how tsv said that entire poem before he went silent. Maybe he saw something in that ship that caused him to get harvested? idk, this is just a theory

a game theory..(im sorry)

uhh idk have my rambling bye guys

[novelconcepts]

Obviously next week could prove this all dead-wrong, but I don’t think the trial’s quite over. I don’t believe the end of that episode actually took place, because I’m pretty sure we’re still firmly in the “punish Agatha” phase. Rio’s suddenly gone. Alice seems to be dead by Agatha’s hand, and no one—including Teen, who has always been on her side—seems primed to believe she was out of control. The others have been sucked beneath the power of the surrogate son who not only just told Agatha to fuck off, but went full-Wanda to do it. It just all seems too tailored to cut up any of the character progress Agatha’s made on the Road thus far. Getting harassed by her ghost mother and hearing her son’s voice don’t feel like a complete tear-down. This does. It feels like more trial.

[thatonecrimsonecho]

Poor Tucker and everything, but the choice of keeping the kid gets me thinking.

Harvested are those who have looked into the red light, right? Well, based off the way they seem to act, their minds have been altered, possibly being a part of a hivemind. Also I’d like to mention that animals canonically can also be brainwashed, I’m pretty sure someone who contacted Nat in the early days of TSV said something like that. Anyways.

If Darkwater can alter the mind and bring people back from the dead like WTP did with Danyon (presumably), who’s to say that the mind-altering properties of Darkwater can’t also work it’s mind magic on those who have been turned into the Harvested?

Sure, maybe it’ll infect their bloodstream and slowly kill them, but there is a chance that it could snap them out of whatever trance the red light puts them in.

Food for thought.

[crimson-iden]

I have a theory about strobes. Granted, some of it might be a stretch, but I have a few ideas at least.

I think strobes may have a form of blindness or some form of lack of vision built into their biology. They’re definitely alien, we know that, but I’d like to take into consideration the idea that where they came from may be a place with very low to no light levels, considering that strobes are sensitive to light, that being one issue I’m thinking about. A lot of creatures, say bats and some spiders, may come from areas with very low light levels, like caves, and it’s found that animals that live in environments like that tend to have difficulties seeing or have sensitive vision. This would make sense as applying to strobes too, given that they seem better off in the dark.

Some animals that live in naturally dark environments and tend to have forms of blindness also use echolocation, the use of sound to locate their surroundings. I think this could apply to the clicking sound that strobes produce when their strobe lights flicker. Think about that quote, “They see motion”, this would make sense with a creature using echolocation, as its surroundings would seem static, but the moment something moves, they’d be able to tell in some shape or form. By remaining still, you could likely avoid a strobe becoming alert.

So what about their camera lens-like eye and their lights? I’d like to go back and look at a tweet that Tucker made when he was attacked by a pair of strobes, he claimed that as he looked back at them, there was some kind of cylinder protruding from its head. I’ll come back to this. Also consider that strobes are described as kinda organic but kinda metal, cyborgs likely. I believe their singular eyes are actually cameras built into their heads, producing a constant feed that I think would stream back to the ships, which tend to be present in the same areas as strobes, this may be due to the limited range of their transmission, not to mention the fact that they likely do better in warm environments.

So how do they transmit the stream? By the cylinder, I believe it could be an antenna, some kind of dish built into the head that send the signal to the ships, and receives commands, I don’t think the ships harbour a pilot, more that they are ‘alive’ in their own sense, like a ships computer in sci-fi having the majority of control over the whole thing.

I think the lights that strobes produce are to illuminate the stream, that way the ship’s computer can understand. I personally picture the computer of the ship like the eyes of a fly, every separate section of it is the different streams of strobes in the area, I think it would also make sense, given that the ship can somehow tell where the body of a strobe is after it dies, considering that they apparently retrieve the corpse. That would especially make sense for a constant feed, so when a strobe dies it kinda immediately starts to send an alert signal that the ships can act upon.

Obviously there are issues with my theory, namely, why are strobes so sensitive to light if they can’t see it? How can they see light? Honestly, I have no idea, maybe it’s that the strobes themselves aren’t affected, but the light messes with the camera and causes a reaction by the ship, maybe some kind of stress that messes with a strobes brain and causes the reaction, which I guess would make sense since I imagine having a camera stuffed in your face would mean you have wires near your brain.

At the end of the day, it’s only a theory, and I’m sure it can be debunked and questioned, this is just how I’ve personally been processing the “biology” of strobes

[kitty-lattee]

i don’t like how nat is becoming tsv . i don’t like how she’s making his exact “wallowing in my own self pity” tweets or how she’s making polls for important decisions . i’m scared this role is gonna make her lose herself and lose sight of who she really is . because *obviously* she has a role to play , everyone in tsv does , but i’m scared tsv’s legacy will be too much for her to handle and she’ll lose herself in the process . i’m scared she’ll go haywire just like tsv did .

[darkwater-reservoir]

Holy shit I just realized something. When people are buried, they are often dressed in suits and dresses. Liaison!danyon is in a suit. He's dressed like a deceased person about to be buried. I know this doesn't seem like mind-blowing or anything, but like. The symbolism in the suit about how the old danyon is dead and gone....... I'm literally going insane

[calolily]

“Astarion’s breath caught in his throat as he heard the door latch shut. He tried to utter a soft “hello,” but his greeting was quickly stifled into the fabric that clung to Gale’s chest as he was pulled into a warm embrace.

For a moment, Astarion stood perfectly still. He felt the heat of his short breaths against the cotton of Gale’s clothing, bewildered and paralyzed by indecision. He was no stranger to hugs, rare as they were. He wasn’t unfamiliar with Gale’s hugs, either. But there was something about being held by Gale at that very moment that felt alien and strange to him. It felt like the first hug he’d ever received in his lifetime.

Astarion decided that maybe the world wouldn’t end if he allowed himself to rest his chin on his damp shoulder. The sun wouldn’t fall out of the sky, even if he did slowly wrap his arms around his body. His fingers clung to the edges of his hoodie, feeling the smooth, plush skin of his lower back gently graze his knuckles. The stars wouldn’t burn out if he focused on the sound of his heartbeat and compared it to his.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

A familiar intrusive thought crossed Astarion’s mind, louder than it had ever dared to speak before:

Gods, I wish you would kiss me.

Shame and regret pooled in the pit of his stomach, rising up to his chest.

Would you even want that?

With little warning, the story of Orfeo and Proserpina that had been vividly carved into the proscenium archway from his nightmares barreled its way to the forefront of his mind. He pondered her death. His descent into the Hells to find her, lute in hand. The botched rescue.

He pictured the tangible anguish immortalized in his face as he watched her vanish into the ether.

Astarion felt his raw, red eyelids squeeze shut almost instinctively. He was both enamored and terror-struck by the safety he felt in Gale’s arms. He drew in the scent of sandalwood that mingled with the fresh notes of petrichor on his neck. He could feel the cold, wet, wavy strands of his hair clinging to his cheek. He felt so damn real. And he was real. Corporeal—not the immaterial figment of his imagination, the shade of stardust that seeped into his every dream. If he gave himself permission to look upon his face, just for a moment—if only to verify that he was more than a phantasmagorical apparition come to torment him with sweet, meaningless nothings in his darkest moment—would he vanish, too?

Dire as the mythological consequences sounded, Astarion dared to tempt fate—the chances he was dreaming were slim. Defiance was the one way he could think of to prove his theory to be true.

He opened his eyes.

To his relief, his feet were still firmly planted on the ground. His fists were still balled up in cotton fabric. He was still in Gale’s arms.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Neither of them were.”

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Press One for Love, Two for Regret

Chapter 2

Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?

Pairing: Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in later chapters)

Notes: This was originally supposed to be a real quick one-shot. And yet, here I stand, offering you a three-chapter fic that is probably going to be a little under 10K total. Like a stray cat proudly bringing you a dead squirrel. I'm bozo the fool and I can't stop writing about Viktor.

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 3)

In theory, you’re pretty sure being a hitman should be fun.

There should be something thrilling about following someone around, tracking their every move in the shadows, finding the perfect opening to shoot them right between the eyes. The hunter and the prey. Riveting stuff.

Except you're not a hitman. And you're not tracking down someone to shoot them.

You're a dumb, stupid idiot. And you're just trying to talk to your dumb, stupid best friend who is doing everything in his power to not talk to you.

And he's quite good at it too; it's like he's vanished from the space-time continuum itself. No one has seen him, no one has talked to him, no one has even heard of where he might be hiding. It's almost annoying how good Viktor is at everything he does.

You hadn't managed to sleep the rest of the night of what you now refer to as ‘The Call’. You watched the minutes pass one by one on your alarm clock, eyes wide open, mind bustling with too many questions to go to bed.

At six am sharp, you deemed you had waited long enough to stomp your way to Jayce's and Viktor's apartment. You weren't even sure of what you were going to say; you just had to talk to him. You couldn't let that conversation end the way it did.

You knocked firmly five times before Jayce cracked the door open with an audible groan, hair tussled, eyes barely open. It seemed he, too, hadn't spent a very restful night.

It took a few seconds for him to even register who was standing at the door; when he did, he visibly straightened his back in an attempt to look awake and composed.

Unfortunately for him, it did not work very well.

“H-hey,” he stammered, leaning against the doorway in false non-chalence. His voice was still heavy with sleep, and he audibly cleared his throat. “It's a little early, isn't it? The ol’ operating system usually only boots up when the sun is out,” he added jokingly, pointing a finger toward his forehead.

A valiant attempt at breaking the obvious tension, but you refused to budge. You glared at him, decidedly looking into his eyes.

“I need to talk to Viktor.”

Jayce made a strangled sound, which he tried to hide with a theatrical coughing fit.

“You… just missed him?” he managed to choke out with uncertainty. He was visibly trying to convince himself just as much as you. “He left to go prepare the lab. You know him, always doing extra research.”

He flashed you a smile, a practiced grin with perfect teeth that might have seemed genuine in other circumstances. But his bottom lip was quivering, and you could see Viktor's daily use cane leaning against the coat rack right behind him. Jayce was not exactly a master manipulator.

“Jayce, the university doesn't even open until seven thirty.”

He deflated at that, his large shoulders comically lowering. You could see he was thinking desperately for anything to say, but coming up empty-handed. Chances were he hadn't had his coffee yet, which knowing him, considerably lowered his ability to formulate coherent thoughts.

You were starting to feel bad; the poor guy was stuck being the literal last defence to his roommate, and he was genuinely giving it his best. Jayce might not have a career in acting, but he was a good friend.

That was more than you could say about yourself.

“Ok. I get it,” you sighed. “He needs space. I can respect that. Just… tell him to call me later, alright? Even just a text would be fine.”

Jayce seemed profoundly relieved you had agreed to back down, something you almost always refused to do under any circumstance. Yes, technically, you could stay put in front of that door and progressively chip away at Jayce's still barely conscious mind until Viktor decided to show himself.

But you felt guilty. Guilty for not realizing how he felt, guilty for treating him like your personal diary over the phone, guilty for not saying how you felt sooner. The conversation should be on Viktor's terms rather than your own.

“Yeah, I'll tell him,” Jayce gave you a small smile, comforting and honest. The next words came out less encouraging than he likely intended: “I'll try.”

But now, it's been a week since ‘The Call’, and Viktor has still shown no sign of wanting to talk. Your phone is frustratingly devoid of unread texts or missed calls no matter how often you check it. Your world feels like it's been spiralling out of control a little more every day, the uncertainty of everything left unsaid weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It's torture, and you can't help but feel like you kind of deserve it.

You should have known better than to call Viktor when you were drunk, and yet, you still did. Because there's nothing more natural to you than talking to him. It's become second nature, as natural as breathing or blinking.

Viktor is always so smart, and so composed, and so understanding, and so helpful- and he's probably the only person who likes hearing you go on rants for hours on end. How could you ever want to talk to anybody else after a breakup?

But when you're drunk, you lose the already feeble control you have over your verbal on-and-off switch. Everything spews out of you without a filter, as if you're vomiting all the thoughts that go through your mind one after the other. It's cathartic, for sure, but then you end up saying things that should never be said to the best friend you've secretly been in love with for years now.

Things like how your ex never took time to finger you properly, or how he had this stupid obsession with men not going down on women because he was an ungrateful asshole.

And then, those two little words.

“I would.”

There was no hesitation in his tone, no uncertainty. It was like he had the sentence on the tip of his tongue for the last two hours you had been whining to him. Like he had been waiting to say it for too long to contain it anymore.

The irony was that you had spent the last four years trying everything in your power to not let those stupid little words out too.

—

You met Viktor at your first university's faculty Christmas party.

You hated work parties.

You had only gotten the position of academic advisor a few months prior, and in that time you hadn't managed to form a single bond with any other employee in your entire department. It was always the same; you talked too much. You were too intense. You were tiresome.

You were you. And that was something a lot of people didn't like.

Needless to say, you didn't want to go to that stupid party. Everyone would split up into groups of friends and previous acquaintances, and any attempt at joining the conversation would result in discreet sighs and rolling eyes. Yet you still went, partly out of obligation, but also in the hopes something that night might be different for you.

But it hadn't been, and you were alone.

So you did what any well-adjusted adult did when they were faced with the indisputable fact they were the party outcast; you drank.

After one glass of cheap white wine, you felt more relaxed, less stiff. Just a nice amount of mellowed out.

After two glasses, you started to forget the self-preserving instinct of not approaching others. ‘Maybe you could try talking to someone, after all. It could be worth a shot.’

After three glasses, you forgot why you were so apprehensive in the first place. You were great! You rocked. You had so many things to say there was absolutely no way someone wouldn't love to hear all about it.

…but maybe you could get a fourth glass, first.

You headed back towards the drinks table, a little less steady and a whole more lot confident. So confident, you didn't realize you bumped right into someone's chest until a hand grabbed your arm to keep you upright.

“Ah, are you alright?” came a heavily accented voice above you. ‘Eastern European,’ you thought absentmindedly. ‘Ukranian, maybe Czech. I wonder if he knows they created the sugar cube…’

You took an unsteady step back, peaking up at the man blocking your way to the wine bottles.

‘Wow, he's handsome’, was your first, immediate thought.

“Wow, you're handsome,” were your first, immediate words.

The man spluttered in surprise. In all fairness, he probably hadn't been expecting for a stranger at a faculty party to be so direct. If you were still at glass number two, you might have realized it wasn't a very appropriate thing to say in this specific context.

But you were at glass number three and unabashedly staring at the man's face, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the curve of his nose.

That was the moment you realized he wasn't a stranger.

You knew him. Not his name, or who he was, but you felt absolutely certain you had seen him before. You scanned your jumbled brain for the memory of his face. So beautifully sculpted, like he was made of stone. You knew him, you had it on the tip of your tongue-

“Miss?” the man asked, seemingly unsure whether to be perplexed or worried at your silent glaring. “Would you like me to help you sit-”

“Tuna sandwich!” you yelled with a huge grin. A few other partygoers turned towards you in confusion, but you were much too overjoyed at the epiphany you were experiencing to realize.

The man blinked slowly. Then once again, like he was trying to process whether or not he had understood correctly. His head cocked slightly to the side in bewilderment.

“… I'm sorry, what did you say ?”

You poked his chest with an insistent finger, beaming: “You're tuna sandwich! The tuna sandwich guy!”

The man looked to the side warily, mouth opening and closing, visibly searching for some kind of help. When he found none, his golden eyes fell back to you, catching the glow of the ceiling lights. The spark of an aurora through the night sky.

“I'm… afraid I truly have no idea what you're talking about,” he explained gently, the warmth of his hand leaving your arm. You deflated a little at that, the notion of embarrassment creeping back in you.

But he hadn't left. He was still here.

He was listening to you.

“My office is next to the cafeteria,” you started, straightening your dress and trying to appear more professional. “I see you, every day, at eleven forty-five, before morning classes end. I always thought that was smart, because you get to skip the lunch rush and there's still a lot of choices for meals.”

The man seemed bemused by the comment, but didn't show signs of wanting to take off. That made you regain some of your drunken confidence.

“But you always take a tuna sandwich,” you continued. ”That's it. Every day. You never buy anything else. It's always the tuna sandwich at eleven forty-five.”

He let out a confused chuckle, the ghost of a teasing smile on his lips.

“I didn't realize I had an audience.”

His presence had been so hypnotic you barely even realized what you had been saying.

‘Oh God, that sounded creepy, didn't it?’

“Don't flatter yourself,” you quickly added, embarrassed, looking away to stare at a particularly interesting stain on the floor. “I look at what everyone's doing. It's my job to.”

He hummed mirthfully, his golden gaze fully amused now:

“And what job would that be? Voyeur?”

You almost choked on your own spit.

“Guidance councillor, smart guy,” you countered, feeling your cheeks heat up. How was a stranger rattling you this much? You were usually the one whose words left others confused. “I look at people, and I figure out what they want in life. I help them find careers. I’ll have you know that's an extremely important task, mister-”

You squinted at the sticky nametag on his chest, trying to decipher the very slanted handwriting. You vaguely remembered the blue stickers were reserved for teachers.

“…Professor…?” you struggled weakly, hoping he would fill in the illegible part.

He thankfully seemed to find your attempt more endearing than insulting.

“Just call me Viktor,” he answered with a sincere smile. His lips were slightly crooked, the left dimple just barely more present on his left side than his right. There was a tiny little beauty spot next to his cupid bow; the thought that it would be nice to lick it just to confirm it wasn't a speck of the chocolate cake flashed in your mind.

‘Focus, focus!’

“Tell me, Viktor,” you cleared your throat. You had to get it together. This was the longest conversation you had been able to maintain with a fellow faculty member without them looking like they wanted to run away. “Why tuna? There's so many other sandwiches to choose from. You could take the egg salad, or the turkey sub, or the spicy chicken…”

You were definitely being too insistent on the tuna thing. If he didn't think you were weird before, he would now.

And yet Viktor still didn't leave. He considered your question seriously, taking a few thoughtful seconds to answer:

“It's the only one with multigrain bread. Very low fat for a good source of omega-3 and protein. And I don't dislike it, so it makes the most sense as a daily meal,” he mused, almost like it was the first time he had ever thought about it, too.

Huh.

“That's a sad way of looking at things,” you commented before thinking.

Before you could mentally swear at your debilitating lack of restraint, Viktor countered the statement with seemingly genuine curiosity:

“How so?”

You had a chance to say something cute and short, and leave the topic at that. It would be a major win for you; your first enjoyable talk with a coworker. Maybe you would even exchange email addresses by the end of the night.

Or…

You could be yourself. Let the floodgate of constant thoughts and observations pour out for a minute. Show this random handsome man who you were, really.

Had you not been drunk and sound of mind, you would have gone for the former. But as it happened, you were quite drunk, and you chose the latter. You took a deep breath before speaking:

“Means you only value food as something that's needed, like taste and flavour isn’t important. You deny yourself basic pleasures out of fear you'll get used to them and grow complacent. You're probably the type of guy who slaves away in his office for hours, not even realizing he's hungry, because it's lost all relevance to him.”

The silence that followed felt eerie. The expression on Viktor's face was blank, mouth barely agape, brows slightly furrowed. You had fucked it up, again.

“Sorry,” you muttered, feeling incredibly foolish. “That was overstepping.”

“No, actually,“ Viktor responded almost eagerly, the sparkle in his eyes bright, “Keep going. What else can you tell?”

There was palpable interest in his tone, in the way his body leaned slightly closer to yours. He wanted to know. He wanted to listen to you.

“The tuna sandwich is twenty-five cents cheaper than all the other ones,” you continued slowly, afraid of breaking the spell that was keeping him attentive to your words. “Usually a sign of a lower class upbringing, shows that you're used to thinking with a controlled budget, even if you don't need to anymore. You likely value hard work and commitment.”

You paused once more to gauge his reaction, but he didn't say anything, clearly waiting for you to continue. So, you did.

“It's always eleven forty-five sharp. You're precise, mechanical. Probably in the department of medicine, or some form of applied science. Am I right?”

“Biomechanical engineering,” he specified with a baffled smile. “Incredible. All that from a sandwich?”

You shrugged, feeling giddy under the weight of the compliment. It was so utterly rare that anyone would actually enjoy your rambling.

“I notice things about people, and I tell them. Couldn’t quite cut it as a detective or a psychologist, so it makes me an ok guidance counsellor,” you smiled, adding an audible wince. “But the person you really gotta avoid at parties.”

He laughed at that, a pretty, earnest sound, slightly low and nasal. The kind of laugh that would make the heart of a weaker person skip a beat.

You blamed the fact that yours did in fact skip a beat entirely on the alcohol.

“I-I'm sure what you do is a lot more impressive, though,” you quickly stammered out. Why were you stuttering?

He shrugged, bony shoulders visible through his button-up shirt. A few beauty marks decorated his neck where the collar didn't reach; you wondered how many more the fabric was hiding.

“Eh, I wouldn't bet on that. Gait analysis, prosthetic limb design. Much less creative than one might think,” he commented with a certain indifferent boredom; yet there was a certain light in his eyes that spoke otherwise. Maybe he was also the type of person people didn’t listen to much. “But it does feel rewarding to do something for others who might not have my luck.”

He pointed down with his chin, and for the first time since you began talking to him, you realized he was holding a cane.

You, whose only redeeming quality was having good observational skills, hadn't noticed the man you had been talking to for the last ten minutes was holding a cane. A refined-looking one at that, with a deep burgundy tainted wood for the shaft, and a sleek handle the colour of tarnished gold. ‘Maybe if you stopped looking at his face for a goddamn second you would have noticed’ you scolded yourself.

“Ah,” you blurted out pathetically. “That's… that's really cool.” You were looking at his fingers. You were looking at his long, slim fingers holding his cane, calloused yet delicate, and you were imagining them in places they should definitely not be in.

You had absolutely no idea what you had just said to him.

Yet Viktor only seemed more amused, his smirk growing ever so slightly.

“Yes, I also like to think of it as ‘cool’, from time to time.”

A drink. What you needed was another drink. Then perhaps you would reach a level of enlightenment where you would remember how to not look like a complete fool in front of attractive professors, who probably did quantum physics as a hobby.

As if he had read your mind, Viktor shifted in the direction of the drinks table, giving you a knowing smile. Were you so easy to read, or was he simply so good at reading you?

“I’d offer to bring you a glass of wine, but I believe that may have been your original intention before reading my palm,” he joked.

‘It's nothing like fortune telling, it's just logical analysis !’ part of you wanted to retort.

‘Give me your palm and I'll show you what my real fucking intentions are,’ purred the other one.

If you didn't get out of here now, you would say something that would definitely end your career before it had even taken off.

“I think I'll probably head home for the night. I've already had a little too much to drink,” you smiled hesitantly. Understatement of the century.

You could have sworn you saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes. Then again, you had probably imagined it. If anything, he was likely relieved he had finally managed to escape the babbling lunatic. Someone like him, so brilliant and accomplished, had no reason to willingly listen to the ramblings of a glorified high school school councillor.

But…

“But… maybe you could give me your number?” you asked hesitantly, taking one final, vulnerable leap of faith. “Just for work, of course!”, you added hastily.

Viktor did not seem angry or disgusted at the proposal; in fact, his smile widened, revealing a slightly uneven row of teeth. Cute. Everything about him was attractive.

“I would like that,” Viktor said softly, amber eyes warm. “I did enjoy hearing you talk.”

Your heart made a heavy, dull thud. With a small wave, he was gone, disappearing somewhere into the crowd like he had been nothing more than a hallucination conjured up by the cheap wine.

Your first work friend.

A potential real friend. Someone who genuinely didn't seem to hate the sound of your voice.

It was much too precious to lose over some passing, drunken attraction. You absolutely had to crush these emotions now to prevent them from becoming anything serious. After all, it wasn't like you had a shadow of chance with someone like him.

Perhaps for the first time in your life, you decided to stay silent about something, no matter what would happen in the future.

He couldn't know.

You would never let him know.

[flurrys-creativity]

planted desires

Pairing: Song Mingi (Ateez) x Fem!Reader; Genre: hinted magic AU, established relationship, gardener mingi au, smut; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: somewhat sentient plants, man-eating plants (in theory), language, SMUT -> being tied up, masturbating, penetrative sex, a plant pleasing you, nipple play, breast play, rough sex, clit play, anal (f receiving), double penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breath play, squirting, prospect of more sex...; Wordcount: 1.867

Summary: Ignoring all of Mingi's warnings, you entered his greenhouse with all kinds of magical plants. Though instead of finding Mingi, a special plant found you.

A/N: This is yet another deal I made with @sanjoongie :D So it's definitely smutty and be prepared for her reversed situation one day! Also instead of working on some other projects I decided to push this out to celebrate my dear @mingsolo's birthday today!! So happy birthday my love, I hope you enjoy this one :hehehe:

“Mingi?” You hesitantly called out for your boyfriend, slightly opening the door to the greenhouse and peaking inside. 

To your dismay you didn’t receive an answer though. You sighed deeply, your shoulders dropping with disappointment. 

It was your anniversary today and you had hoped to spend the whole day with your boyfriend but instead he had vanished into his greenhouse in the early morning hours and you haven’t heard from him since.

As the sun set slowly at the horizon you had decided to take matters in your own hand. You had dressed up in the black lingerie you had bought especially for today and walked over to the greenhouse.

You called out again, closing your eyes and hoping to hear Mingi from somewhere inside the jungle-like atmosphere.

Once again you heard nothing. You sighed deeply, closing the door to the greenhouse again. 

Mingi told you to never enter it due to his various and dangerous plants he had in there. So far you have listened to him.

Today, though, you were fessed up with that rule. You pushed the door open again, stepping inside. Your certain steps faltered the second the door closed behind you and you started second guessing yourself. You shook your head, new determination flooding your system as you followed the narrow path deeper into the greenery.

Your eyes flickered around the area. Various shades of green surrounded you, almost engulfing you. If it weren’t for the small path you stood on, you would have probably lost your orientation and would never find the entrance again. 

Though with the path you felt quite confident, a small chuckle leaving your lips as you remembered Mingi’s warning. You looked around again, questioning what exactly could be that dangerous around here.

Sure, Mingi had lots of unique plants with all kinds of magical abilities but you thought as long as you didn’t touch them you should be fine.

“Mingi?” You called out again, turning around your own axis in hopes to see him somewhere. A deep sigh built up in your chest, disappointment of not finding him anywhere spreading through your body. You crouched down and wrapped your arms around your legs, resting your forehead on your knees.

In that position and with your soft whining you didn’t notice the rustling in the nearby greens. Neither did you notice the thick vines slithering towards you until it was too late.

You yelped when the biggest vine wrapped itself around your middle and pulled you up into the air. Another scream ripped through your throat when more smaller vines appeared around you, circling around your thrashing limbs and stopping you in your movements. 

The vines had you positioned like a starfish in the air with all your limbs stretched away from your body. They left you completely immobile and helpless.

You called out for Mingi again, fear gripping your insides as the vines continued to circle around your limbs and torso. Though your screams for help turned into surprised gasps once the vines reached your upper thighs, rubbing over your clothed core.

While you couldn’t say what kind of plant had you in their clutches but your fear got diluted with something else. You swallowed dryly, looking down at your body and seeing the round tip of the vine rubbing over your lingerie. 

“Oh gods”, you exhaled shakily as the vine put pressure on your covered clit. 

Even more vines appeared from the thicket, prodding and tucking at your lingerie and body. Soft mewls tumbled from your lips as the vines found their way underneath your clothing. The rough texture of the plant quickly built up the pleasure inside of you.

You closed your eyes, head tilting backwards, as a moan ripped through your throat. Two small vines encircled your hardened nipples, clamping down on the buds in an addictive rhythm. 

The clearing of a throat made you open your eyes again. You blinked several times until your vision focused on the figure standing in front of you. “Mingi”, you mewled, the fear finally subsiding completely with him being there.

You bit on your lower lip while your eyes raked over his form. He wiped his dirty hands on his cargo pants, pulling out a cloth from one of the many pockets to clean his hands even better. Your gaze wandered from his long, slender fingers over his upper body. The tight black tank top highlighted everything: his thin waist, his toned chest and abs. All of it made you yearn for him even more now.

Mingi had tinted glasses for protection on, so you couldn’t see where he was looking, but from his raging hard on in his pants you had an inkling.

“I told you not to come in here”, he told you, his voice even deeper than usual from his own desire.

You mewled again, helplessly wriggling in your confines. “I wanted to see you.” You moaned out his name when one of the vines pressed against your core.

“Yet you’re quite occupied with my morsa labrusca.” Mingi pushed the cloth back into his pocket, grabbing his belt instead and opening it slowly.

Your eyes immediately zeroed in on that motion, your mouth salivating at the thought of seeing his hard dick. 

A smirk played over his lips. He opened his pants painfully slowly, pushing his boxers down and freeing his hard on. With his large hand he grabbed his cock at the base, pumping it a few times until precum glistened at the top of it.

Meanwhile the vines pushed your panties to the side, revealing your throbbing cunt to Mingi’s view. The tip prodded at your entrance for a moment longer before it pushed inside. You cried out at the intrusion, quivering from the pleasure that coursed through your body. 

Mingi mimicked the pace of the vine pushing into you to jerk himself off, looking extremely confident and cocky the way he stood there and simply watched you getting fucked in the air. He adjusted his grip around his shaft every time your walls clamped around the vine. “Fuck baby, you look so incredible.” 

You moaned loudly. Once again you tried moving, wishing for Mingi to touch you or take you. Seeing Mingi please himself, drove you crazy. “Please”, you begged with a whimper, “please, touch me.”

He chuckled darkly and slowly stepped closer, raising his free hand to your lower body. His fingers ghosted over your bare skin, skimming along the edges of your lingerie. “So fucking beautiful”, he rasped out. Mingi placed his thumb on your clit, circling it and pressing down until you screamed out his name and came for the first time.

Though Mingi wasn’t done with you by far. He walked around you until his front and cock were pressed against your behind. He rubbed it between your ass cheeks, groaning from the pleasure. His hand wandered back to your front, playing with your clit for a moment before he moved it upwards and ripped one of the vines away from your breasts. Just so he was able to grope your tit with his large hand.

Your head tilted backwards and dropped on his shoulder as you marvelled in his ministrations. 

“Already stuffed but still not enough, huh? Baby hungry for my cock?” Mingi growled into your ear, his nose brushing along the shell of it. 

“Yes, yes!” You cried out, desperately wanting to move your hands to the back of your head so you could run your fingers through his locks. “Only your dick.”

Mingi grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them apart, pressing the tip of his cock against your back entrance. “Only my cock can make you feel full? That’s right baby, only I can please you and fulfil all your desires.”

You gasped out once he entered you, pushing past the rim and bottoming out. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby.” Mingi wrapped one arm around your lower body, keeping you in place as he fucked into you from behind. He used a different rhythm as the vine in the front, pushing you to your high a lot quicker like this.

“Do you know anything about the morsa labrusca?” He suddenly questioned you, your head already spinning from the pleasure alone. You shook your head, humming a weak no. Mingi chuckled darkly at that. “It’s also called the eating vine. They prey on unsuspecting beings, ensnaring them in their vines. After a while the vines will search for your windpipe, pushing inside until you suffocate.”

His hand moved from your tit up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and pressing down ever so slightly.

“You’re lucky those plants aren’t very quick-witted, trying every hole until they succeed.” Another chuckle left his lips, becoming even rougher with his thrusts. “Gotta be quick before she realises her mistake.”

Right as he finished his explanation, biting into your earlobe, another orgasm washed through your system and left you momentarily blinded. “Mingi”, you cried out, your whole body spasming in the air. 

“Now, have you learned your lesson, baby?”

You whimpered and shook your head, unable to really comprehend anything around you despite how full you felt.

“No?” Mingi scoffed, moving his hand from your hip to your clit again. Without hesitation he immediately started rubbing it in a pace that left you crying out. “I told you to never come into the greenhouse”, he growled, ignoring your cries of overstimulation, “you know what could have happened, if I hadn’t been here.”

Curses fell from your lips as another orgasm built up in your lower body. The knot tightened almost painfully. Your mouth opened again but your voice got stuck in your throat as Mingi pressed his fingers against the side of your neck. 

A sudden warmth enveloped you and through your blurry vision it seemed like flames licked around your body. You whined when the pressure of the plant around your body vanished and you dropped down against Mingi’s chest.

He quickly replaced the vine in your cunt with three of his fingers, continuing to fuck into you. With one last thrust from his hips, you came undone, squirting all over his hand and on the ground.

Mingi grunted lowly, shooting his load into your ass and helping you ride through your last orgasm. 

You slumped against his body, unable to stand on your own. You barely registered how he tugged himself away again and lifted you up princess style, carrying you out of the greenhouse. Your head rested against his collarbone and you nuzzled into his skin.

“You did great, baby”, Mingi whispered as he carried you back into the house. “Sorry to keep you waiting as well.”

“‘S alright”, you mumbled, struggling to keep your eyes open. “Wanted to surprise you.”

Mingi chuckled softly. “That you did, baby, that you did. You look absolutely stunning too. Can’t wait until you recovered so I can eat you out and take you in absolutely every position you can imagine.”

Your eyes shot open and you pressed your thighs together, feeling your insides already throbbing with lust again. “Fuck me”, you whispered under your breath, knowing full well you couldn’t get enough of him as well.

© all rights reserved

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin

[sabrondabrainrot]

Time for another Theory Boys! I wanted to post stuff on my Bday but I got busy so I'll do my birthday stuff later. I have to get this theory off my chest before I forget about it or worse someone else comes up with it before I have a chance to send it.

This theory will include spoilers from the most recent eps, "Moon's NIGHTMARE encounter while hunting for Dark Sun", "Sun, Solar, and Moon FACE THEIR CONSEQUENCES...", and "Sun is forced to make A DEADLY CHOICE". So I'm putting this below a spoiler bar. I will also be going into MASM spoiler territory, "Sun begins his VILLAIN ARC with Eclipse". Will also be mentioning LAES "Dark Star HUNTING in VRchat". Just a little disclaimer my theories and stuff are just my own observations and me putting together my thoughts and ideas so they usually aren't super accurate to what is really happening buy I do find a lot of enjoyment doing this. That said, on with the brainrot!

So this Theory starts at the ep, "Sun is forced to make A DEADLY CHOICE", in this episode Sun has to make a heartbreaking decision to kill Nexus and defend his current family or let Nexus kill Moon so he can maybe try to still save Nexus. The entire episode is punctuated by Dark Sun doing an ultimatum with Sun. He freezes time and pulls Sun away to the purgatory dimension. Something interesting I want to point out, this is the CANON purgatory place in TSAMS and the multiverse. Vegeta was sent there on request and met several deceased characters. That place symbolizes people who couldn't make decisions in life and are now stuck in the past, unable to move on even in the afterlife. The only person in purgatory that doesn't belong is Solar Flare and with his case he became a guardian that help guide people when they're not suppose to be there. Back to the encounter, Dark Sun pulls Sun to this place in a very trippy sequence where he presents Sun's choice in a very black and white manner. "It's going to be you one way or another." Dark Sun says in response to Sun's stuttering mess of a reply, he proceeds to follow up with "Inaction is still a choice" Sun of course, is opposed to this but Sun adds interesting lines, "Regardless of this, I win." "You let Nexus kill Moon and I'll get that data and I'll expunge it everywhere" "You kill Moon and I'll collect that data and expunge it everywhere." So at the end of the day he needs some kind of decided code where someone willingly chooses/wants to kill Moon. He also said, Nexus is Moon. So killing Nexus coding wise is the same as killing Moon.

Once Sun caves and makes the decision to finally kill Nexus, Sun, while in tears, asks D!Sun "Who are you really?" In this soft, tiny voice. And D! Sun replies, "I'm Sun, I'm every Sun you've ever met. That you ever will meet. That you've never met and never will meet. I'm You, I'm Me. I'm Sun. Goodbye, Sun. I hope we never meet again, I hope you have a good life too." Then he vanishes from the purgatory place right in front of Sun.

Then the episode ends with Sun finally putting a stop to Nexus. Something very important I notice and that's a theme in TSAMS is identity. Identity is a huge role in everything and usually, when someone is affirmed and very solid in who they are, then it's usually not the case. Earth believed she was the Creator's beloved daughter. Sun believed he was nothing more then the idiot to Moon's genius. Moon believes himself to be an irredeemable monster. Most importantly, Eclipse believes himself to be Moon. If D!Sun says he's a Sun....I just don't really know at this point? When he summoned Sun and paused time he took him to the purgatory afterlife. The thing about that is, Sun never physically left the strange star-powerless dimension pocket D!Sun owns. So one can assume it was Sun's mind or Soul that was drawn there for the conversation. So then I ask, why was D!Sun using the Eclipse v1 mode? The Sun glow model has always been associated with Eclipse v1. I know that in recent eps it's been used to tell Sun's apart however, in the purgatory place would they really need to be physically distinguished? We the audience know who is who. So, in the place where it's their souls, why was D!Sun's Soul physically different from Sun's? Coincidence? Visual distinction? I think this is possibly a case of an Eclipse thinking he's a Sun. I WANT for Dark Sun to be a Sun, I think it's just chilling and haunting. The two most OP villains in the entire franchise happen to both be offshoots of Sun? Ruin is arguably far more Sun then Moon and of course Dark Sun has caused the most problems behind the scenes. But I do think it's interesting how he put it, how can he truly be EVERY Sun if he needed OUR Sun's decision to kill Moon? He could just use his own hatred for Moon. Or just use Nexus, why even make/give Sun the chance to grow and defend himself?

Remember back when we found out it's canon Moon bullies Sun's in all dimensions to get them to 'grow spines' and in a way, Eclipse' also treat Sun's poorly in the hopes Sun gets tougher?

We for canon know of 4 variants of Eclipses, the 4th being the rarest in the multiverse. The first Eclipse variant is the one we first meet, the Eclipse born from Sun and Moon's split. Moon leaves a killcode string in Sun which eventually grows into Eclipse. Eclipse in this version identifies as Moon.

The second variant Eclipse is 'ruin Eclipse' or the eclipse that resembles the games. Born from the two Sun and Moon AIs being fused. We've seen this version in PuppetMaster's dimension and of course with Ruin. He doesn't see himself as Sun or Moon, but as an entirely new existence. The third variant is unique to MASM. He's the original DCA model for the world but was turned off for bad coding and a far too violent nature. He's kind of like a cartoon villain and just wants revenge on everyone.

Then there's the 4th variant, Solar Eclipse. He's the first Eclipse but instead bonded with his Sun and changed for the better. He wasn't isolated and was given Sun's unconditional love. He does identify as Moon at first too but chose to let go of his false identity and hatred because he got the thing he wanted, even if he lost it far too early in his existence. So back to D!Sun...I propose what if he's a variant of Solar Eclipse? It was stated Solar is so unique he's the only inherently good Eclipse in the multiverse...but how can that be true? How can there really only be one Solar, especially when Cringe dimension (our dimension's parallel) also has their own Solar? I think there's a type of Eclipse we haven't seen yet. The Eclipse that identifies themself as a Sun.

I'm also excited to see where D!Sun's story goes because he also mentioned he was changing skin soon. It'll be interesting if they ever find him again. So moving past this, more speculation.

In today's most recent ep, "Moon's NIGHTMARE encounter while hunting for Dark Sun", he stumbled upon a dimension with a 'discrepancy' and when visiting the discrepancy he was greeted to a new Sun beating a lifeless Moon's corpse into powder. This Sun was a crying sobbing mess but would not stop almost like he was possessed. He even started trying to attack our Moon. What's interesting about his 'discrepancy' Sun is he seemed to have a nightcap and had sparkling rays. I can't tell if this is a simple different dimensional appearance or maybe the code D!Sun scattered affected that sun's appearance? However, it's interesting that Sun being violent to Moon is considered a dimensional discrepancy. Moon ended the episode by walking off with Solar to get a sandwich while his new AI runs a dimensional scan for Sun on Moon violence and it ends by it saying "35% of discrepancy's found." This means we're now encountering an EVEN BIGGER effect then what Ruin did when he deleted entire dimensions to kill the creator counsel. Not really sure how the code Dark Sun is spreading works, but it's clear it's making every Sun hate their Moon's now. We don't get the context on why Sun hated his Moon and felt the need to protect himself, because at the end of the day that sparkling nightcap wearing Sun still had a reason to act. He told out Moon, "He was going to kill me, he was going to replace me" and Moon looked closer to determine that this new unknown Sun wasn't possessed by a killcode or anything similar.

D!Sun has seemingly broadcasted into the multiverse the ability for Sun's to now stand up for themselves. They will now choose murder if it means to protect them.

We know when Dark Sun told Sun "All Sun's die eventually to their Moon." He meant it, however, just because D!Sun was being honest doesn't mean that's the truth. He might truly believe all Moons are evil and destined to kill their Sun's however we've seen plenty of dimensions where Sun and Moon peacefully exist. So D!Sun is now just turning every Sun slowly with time into murders. He wanted revenge on Moon and is now using every Sun as the weapon to do it. I'm really interested to see how this will affect the story going forward. Now I would also like to bring up Moon and Sun Minecraft lore, in the most recent lore episode, "Sun begins his VILLAIN ARC with Eclipse", the entire episode centers around Sun finally quitting because the abuse of all his coworkers is too much. He finally quit and ran into Eclipse and had to prove how evil he is so he kidnapped Bonnie only for the entire thing to flop in a Phineas and Ferb reference. (It was funny ngl) The ending was interesting to me though. Moon found Sun on the roof of Evil Inc. and apologized to Sun, a really shitty apology I will add, and Sun didn't accept it.

Sun is continuing to stand up for himself. We've seen before in TSAMS and other dimensions Sun will accept an apology no matter how unbelievable it is. The only ones so far to truly stand up for themselves now is MASM Sun and EAPS Sun (which EAPS Sun still doesn't really stand up for himself)

I'm curious to see how this code works because it seems like D!Sun harnessed it from Sun's very soul. I know Sun on record has said he doesn't believe he has a soul but it's been dis-proven because you need a soul to use magic. The Devil from the Bible even stated they do in fact have souls he plans to one day collect.

We also know now that the Cringe dimensions' Moon now identifies as Nexus so he might escape a fate of that Sun killing him? I think Cringe Sun actually knows far more then he will ever let on. I think he knows more about Sun's magic in general. He didn't want to teach EAPS Sun despite knowing how.

EAPS Sun might be the only Sun so far to be actually interested in learning magic but when he describes what he wants to do it mostly sounds like stage magic? He mentions he just wants ✨sparkles✨

I think we'll need to keep our eyes peeled because I think now every Sun will be affected by what Dark Sun is spreading and slowly turn more violent towards Moon's as time goes on.

Anyways!

I will add more, so another theory I have is Nexus is not dead. Dark Sun himself promised to Nexus he'd help him become a god and recently there was a deal he made where Nexus has to do whatever he wants and says. Plus, part of D!Sun's plan was to have Nexus fight Taurus to gain a new level of power. Nexus' evolved in his NSP use thanks to that confrontation. Up until then, D!Sun wasn't ever actively interfering or encouraging Nexus with his NSP use. He only once came in to mention maybe he should purge the excess NSP or it would kill him. After his failed kidnapping attempt of Sun, he was more active in his plans and how he directed Nexus. Then we see Nexus getting stronger from this direction. Next thing we know is Nexus kidnaps Moon and now we have the ultimatum which was exactly what D!Sun wanted. Either way, he wins, right? Nexus either becomes a god by listening to D!Sun's plan or by using Sun as an AI chip to hunt down shards. Something really important in my own guess/theory that Nexus is we still saw his corpse when Solar, Sun, and Moon walked past him in the flashback during the ep, "Sun, Solar, and Moon FACE THEIR CONSEQUENCES...", He wasn't totally gone. Dark Sun can easily revive Nexus but here's what I think is really going on. In the recent LAES ep "Dark Star HUNTING in VRchat" Gemini dropped some really important information. NSP will eventually turn into SP. Whenever SP and NSP interact it creates life. Sun as we know, has SP and I theorize that Sun killed Nexus by mixing his magic and SP. After all, the way Nexus was acting as he was dying was interesting...He sounded like he was...melting? I don't know how to describe it. Sun's magic as we know is unique. It's altered reality and changed lifeforms. Those magic plants Solar, Moon, and Monty were dealing with were due to Sun's magic. @goodolddumbbanana pointed out to me that Sun's magic was the cause of those plants. They also pointed out to me when I was asking about what D!Sun was doing in Sun's home and touching all of Sun's things they theorized that D!Sun was harvesting Sun's magic. (I'm gonna make an actual theory post about this later too with Banana, stay tuned ;) )

So back to NSP and SP. Nexus is similar to Lunar in terms of narrative. He feels he was used and left the one using him for a better place. Eventually, the one he felt that used him the most killed him in a fiery explosion with only a little bit left behind.

In a lot of stories, especially ones where someone goes from mortal to an immortal-godlike being they usually need to die. There's power in the act of rebirth. Nexus' and Lunar's stories resemble that of the phoenix.

Rebirth through flames to achieve and almost immortal existence.

So this isn't me grasping at straws I truly think Nexus will come back and be a being similar to Lunar. I think Dark Sun is going to rebuild him amongst the stars to have his own personal Astral for future use.

So those are my current most theories! I hope you all liked my yapping. Please let me know what you all thought about :>

[thoushallnotfall]

Walkin' After Midnight

Masterlist

Pairing: Marko x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: *finger guns* Ehhhhh...so it’s been a minute. How ya’ll been? So completely ignoring that’s it’s been...a long time, here’s another of my ‘imagine the boys in a decade prior to the 80s’ fics--and we’re moving right along to the 50s!

I started this...a very long time ago, and then I didn’t like it so I just left it in my WIPs with like 15 other ideas/half-written fics/updates. I still don’t love it, but upon further reflection I don’t totally hate it--and it was already started so I didn’t have to work as hard to finish it, so there’s that.

That being said, I'm kind of interested in writing a part 2, so we'll see...taking babysteps here.

(I’m really having to dig deep for these gifs)

Every kid from Santa Carla grew up knowing two things: Don’t go out after dark if you ever want to make it home, and stay away from the greasers who hung around the boardwalk.

It never really occurred to you that those two things could be related.

Unlike a lot of the teenagers in Santa Carla, who’d run there with nowhere else to go, you’d lived there all your life. You’d never left the city, and the older you got the more you doubted you ever would. Your dad had been killed in Vietnam, and your mom was around so little you half expected one day she’d just stop coming back home at all. You may not be one of the runaways, but you were still alone in Santa Carla.

Still, you were young; and while you knew you’d have to find a way to live on your own sooner or later, you decided to try and enjoy what little youth you had left. One day you’d have to grow up and start providing for yourself somehow, but for now you just wanted to live your life to the fullest before that all got taken away.

With that in mind, you’d taken to going to plenty of the dances and social events in town. You didn’t have a curfew, and no one was around to care about where you were, but even so you tried not to be out too late after dark. That’s always when the people went missing--and they never came back.

That’s why it was the first rule of Santa Carla: Don’t go out after dark.

The official numbers were never right, given how many of the people who disappeared were runaways, but the amount of missing people in Santa Carla had always been unusually high. The only thing they knew for sure was that they always seemed to vanish at night.

The prevalent theory among many of the local teens was aliens. They came out with their flying saucers and abducted unsuspecting people in the night. Others were more practical--they just thought there was a really good serial killer in town.

It could be anyone! They’d say.

But people have always gone missing in Santa Carla--is he an old man, still killing people in his 70s? Someone else would question.

Okay, so a family of serial killers! They’d say back.

Personally, you had no idea who or what was making people disappear. You only cared about surviving it, and the best way to do that was stay in at night.

Then, there was the second rule of Santa Carla: Stay away from the greasers.

There was a particularly nasty group of punks who usually hung around the Boardwalk at night. No one knew who they were--probably just another group of runaways--but people had grown to know they were trouble. A gang of greasers who didn’t care about the law and would sooner gut a man than say hello. That’s what people said about them, anyway.

So imagine your surprise when you broke both rules in a single night.

--

The night in question started out well enough. You and a friend had gone to the beach in the afternoon, and spent most of the day there. At one point, the two of you had attracted the attention of some boys--who ended up spending the day with you.

So when the sun got low and it was time to leave, your friend decided to accept the invitation from the boys to go get some dinner at the local diner. You however, weren’t as excited about the prospect. Not only did you not want to be out too late, you frankly just weren’t that interested in any of them. Your friend tried to get you to change your mind, but you held firm.

And so it was that your friend headed off with the guys. At least she brought you into town so you wouldn’t have so far to walk to get home. And while you weren’t jazzed about walking home alone you figured you could make it back quick enough that it’d be okay. Unfortunately, it was nearly dark before you even made it back to town--and well into the night by the time you walked past the Boardwalk.

You tried to hurry your way through the crowded streets of tourists and late-night couples walking hand in hand without any trouble. But of course that's exactly what you find.

"Hey there pretty lady, going my way?" A big guy in a varsity sweater asks. He looked like a jock--maybe home from college? You didn't know him, and you certainly didn't want to.

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry." You say, hoping to sidestep him and continue on your way. He moves to stand in front of you.

"Aw, don't be like that doll." He says, looming over you. "I just want to get to know you."

"Well I'm not interested." You say, trying to push past him. He grabs your wrist, squeezing so tight it makes you wince in pain.

"Not so fast girlie--we ain't done talking yet." He says, pulling you back.

Oh God, this is it. He's a part of that serial killer family and you're about to get murdered.

Your frantic thoughts are interrupted as the creep let's you go. He screams as he looks to his other side. You follow his gaze and see a greaser with blonde, curly hair standing next to him--the jock's wrist in his hand. He squeezes it tighter and the jock falls to one knee, yelling in pain.

"Don't like it so much on the receiving end, do yah punk?" The boy says, squeezing even tighter. Despite being smaller than the other boy, the greaser was still clearly stronger.

"What the hell man? Let me go!" The jock begs.

"You want me to let you go?" The greaser smirks. "Alright." He lets the guy go, before quickly using his now free hand to punch him square in the face. The boy falls back, holding his bloody, broken face in his hands. The greaser grabs the bleeding boy by the collar and pulls him up, smiling at him. "Now beat it before I decide to get serious." He says, dropping his collar. The boy scrambles up and runs off, disappearing down an allyway.

You watch him run off, stunned by what had just happened.

"You okay?" The blonde asks, having turned his attention to you. You practically jump out of your shoes.

"What? Oh." You look down at your wrist. "Yeah, it's fine--I mean, um, I'm fine." You stumble through before looking back up at him. "Thank you."

"No problem. Punks like that deserve a good beating." He says, before he smirks. "And I couldn't let him hurt a pretty thing like you, now could I?"

Uh oh, you may have just gone out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"So what's your deal anyway? You know it's not safe walking around alone at night, right?" He asks, ignoring your apprehensive look.

"We'll um," You hesitated, unsure of how much you should say about yourself. "I was out with a friend, but she had other plans. She drove, so..."

"So now you're stuck walking back. I get you." He says. "Pretty uncool of your friend, ditching you like that. But hey, I'll make sure you get home safe."

"What?" You nearly shout. "Um, no really that's not necessary. I'm fine now, so--"

"No way. I already told you--you're way too cute to be out here on your own." He says, cutting off your attempt to protest. "My bike's nearby, let's go."

"I would really hate to put you out," you try once more to worm our way out of the situation, but he wasn't having it.

He smirks, "I offered didn't I? Don't worry about it." He grabs your hand and all but drags you down the block.

Soon enough, you arrive at a parking lot, and he leads you towards a row of four motorcycles lined up in the corner. He lets you go, moving to the bike at the end and throwing his leg over to sit. He looks at you, holding out his hand. You were pretty sure you couldn't get away from him even if you tried, so you took a deep breath and accepted his outstretched hand. He helps you onto the back of the bike, smirking as gravity slide you down towards him.

"So princess, were are we going?" he asks, tilting his head back to look at you sitting behind him. You hesitated giving him your address, but at this point if he wanted to do something nefarious he didn't need to take you home first.

You were in too deep now.

You tell him, and he nods, "Yeah, I know the place." He starts the bike, giving you one last smirk as he revves the engine, "Better hold on tight."

Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as the bike shoots forward. You gripped him tightly, you head resting on his back. You squeezed your eyes shut, fear coursing through you as your heartbeat raced. As much as you knew you should watch where you were heading, you were too scared to open your eyes. He was going fast--very fast--and with each bump and turn, you were sure you would crash and that would be the end of it.

But the two of you didn't crash, and before you knew it the bike slowed to a stop. You dared to open an eye, and saw you sat in front of your house. A little run down and a bit worse for wear, but still yours. You sat up, shocked you had not only survived the ride, but that he had actually brought you home.

"This it?" he asked like he already knew the answer. You turned to him,

"Oh, um--yes, it is."

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented absently, and you felt your shoulders tense.

"Oh, my parents are here--they just go to bed early," you lied. Something told you he knew you weren't telling him the truth, but he didn't say anything.

You hoped off the bike, smoothing the wrinkles from your skirt out of habit. You took a step towards your door, then stopped. You turned, looking back at the smirking, curly-haired boy sitting lazily on his bike.

"Thank you again. For bringing me home, and for helping me with that guy earlier, " you were still scared of him, but he had helped you. It would be bad manners not to at least thank him for his help.

He laughs, the moonlight catching his blue eyes as he stared back at you.

"Anytime, princess," he replies. He started his bike, glancing back up at you, "I'm Marko, by the way."

"Oh, I'm y/n." You had certainly not planned to tell him your name, but at this point could it really hurt?

"Well, I'll see you around, y/n," he says, his smile wide and mischievous. Before you could say anything more, he rode off down the quiet street, disappearing into the darkness.

[shirecorn]

so how did celestia...show up? cause she definitely ain't fitting inside that room

The gods don't speak to us. Even though legend says they used to be ponies, everyone who could have borne witness died or vanished millennia go. They say Starswirl the Bearded was The Sisters' teacher before they ascended. Most think he was a prophet, chosen by the gods to enact their will.

Being chosen is not necessarily a good thing. Though the gods are benevolent when they deign to notice our affairs, that does not mean they are gentle.

I pray that their attention passes and your daughter can return to her studies, to a mundane life she already enjoys.

You see, the sun spoke to me.

The day of her admission to our school, something shimmered in the air. I came to know later that it was a rambunctious foal in Cloudsdale who managed to rip a hole in the magic layer with her speed. It seems that day was packed with the whispers of destiny, if you believe in that.

Regardless, the sun hung in the sky a little longer that day. And the next. The great mare that ferried it across the sky seemed to pause, and look in our direction.

I have a confession to make.

The entrance exam was a farce. Most of it was real, but the dragon egg was not. We don't have an endless supply of dragon eggs with which to test students. We have rocks.

The point of this part of the exam was to test applicant's critical thinking. They're supposed to ask where we got the egg, they're supposed perform some examination spell on the stone, they're supposed to heat it or turn it or explain that incubation is a long and unpredictable process. They're supposed to come up with a plan when just pointing at it doesn't work.

They are not supposed to hatch it.

I don't know what your daughter did, or how, but she split the rock in two and either found or formed a baby dragon inside it.

I have a theory; we all have theories. Based on what the sun seems to think, I believe Twilight Sparkle was achingly alone, and conjured for herself a friend within that stone. We have done our best to help her raise her foundling and study at the same time, but the sun streaming in through the window watches our every move.

She summoned me at sunrise, with her voice in my head, to tell me what I already knew. That your daughter is something special, and I am to nurture her in the study of magic. It feels like a gift, something I'm sure you felt too the day she was born. A gift... and a burden to bring someone like that into the world.

Creating a lesson plan with the input of a goddess is definitely a challenge to one's sanity.

I don't know what the goddess plans to do with young Twilight Sparkle, but I am afraid we are powerless to stop it. I could understand if you wanted to withdraw her from the school and try to forget all of this; I would even advise it if I thought it were possible.

But you cannot hide from the sun.

You can only hope she grows bored of such tiny things

and sets again in the west.

[mo0nfairy]

Bro when they remade the game of re4, Leon made me want to just....do anything for him. He's just- so- AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH.....You know? And thinking of him as a yandere made me giggle and kicking my feet

part 2. part 3. part 4.

tw :: yandere!leon, obsessive!leon, alcohol, kidnapping, drugging blood, being chained up, insinuations of suicide.

⸺ ommgggg !!! i've been playing the game bit by bit in my free time and im actively going batshit over this man. so here are some of my thoughts……………….

you met leon during the events of RE2 in raccoon city. you ever heard of scary dog privilege? that was basically him with you the entire night. your personal bodyguard, your guard dog. he saved your life over and over and over again until you both practically lost count. however, once you both survived the night and the sun arose, you went your separate ways (much to his dismay). law enforcement and the government were attempting to track down survivors, due to their theories of them having links with umbrella. you had absolutely nothing to do with it, obvi. so, to avoid it all, you vanished. and for 6 long, insufferable years, leon has lived without you. countless therapy sessions, solace in alcohol, and numerous partners who didn’t last longer than a month, nothing could make him forget you.

now (knowing your luck), you just so happen to be one of the missing hikers the police officers speak of in the very beginning of RE4. you were taking a daily stroll through the woods to meditate before you were kidnapped and brought into the los iluminados cult. fortunately for you, you managed to evade being infected. however, you have still spent the last week in sheer misery. running from the village-folk, dodging hidden bear-traps, and scavenging for any crumbs you could consume. you can only dream of the shower you'd take after this nightmare, where you can scrub your skin of the grime, blood, and god knows whatever substances have stained your form. you did befriend a lone wolf, however, so that's a plus!

leon just so happens to be in the same area you're in, only with intentions of saving the president's daughter. he had hoped that by becoming a secret agent, he would be able to manipulate the provided resources and find you. before he knows it, leon soon wakes with a gasp, finding his hands above his head and his wrists chained together. he yanks the chain down, only to hear a quiet voice whisper "hey, quit it!" that voice. leon springs to his feet and turns to verify his suspicions, the sudden movement behind you scaring you into doing the same. he gasps your name in disbelief, before he falls into awed silence while staring at you in complete captivation. you have no fucking idea how much he missed you. all these years of searching for you, dread satiated through him at the possibility of you being dead. leon knows in his heart he would not have the strength to live if you had truly been gone forever. but now, there are no worries. the light of his entire life is alive and by his side! exactly where they belong.

on your end, however, was a complete different story. that night 6 years ago was now an entire blur. umbrella had managed to hunt you down mere days after the event, drugging you with a variety of different remedies. their efforts succeeded and had caused you to almost completely forget that night. your brain has only been able to scrutinize the blood, the death, and the groaning and screaming of undead figures around you. weekly visits with your therapist are helping you disinter forgotten pieces, but leon wasn't present in any of these newfound memories. so, when this stranger whispers your name into the air and stares at you as if you had just descended from heaven itself, you aren’t able to connect the dots.

a smile, one that could rival the sun, breaks out on the face of the mysterious blonde. tears brim in his honeyed gaze. "oh, god. you have no fucking idea how happy i am to finally see you!” holding his hands out, he takes several long strides towards you to engulf you, to where you take several steps away from him.

"who the fuck are you?" his world shatters, "how do you know me? are you the one behind this shit?" your eyes are full of confusion and uncertainty. a major contrast to the look of heroism and gratitude you gazed at him with ages ago.

without another breath, leon pulls the chain towards him, causing you to spring forward. your wrists are tied above your head and your feet are practically dangling off the floor. there are now mere inches in between you and this man. and the look of sheer horror on his face is unforgettable.

"look at me…” his eyes feel like bullets stinging into you, tears spilling down his cheeks. “it- it's me, angel! it’s leon! leon scott kennedy, i worked in the RPD that night 6 years ago.” his breath hits your face as he desperately recounts the worst night of your life. “y/n, i saved your life. and you saved mine. don't you remember?"

leon’s hand cups your face, skin hovering over yours, almost as if he were afraid to fully touch you. his face scrunches up from the sobs racking through his body.

“don’t you know how much i still love you?”

you finally have the revelation that whoever this 'leon scott kennedy' is was with you that night in raccoon city. you also conclude that you are most definitely not getting away from him so easily.

n e ways.... i went wayyyy to overboard with this, but like i said, i've been having some THOUGHTS about re4 and our golden boy. also some other characters too, hehe…………

if you'd like to see more, pls don't be afraid to send some asks in !!

[thatonecrimsonecho]

I don’t know where I got this idea, but what if the sun didn’t vanish, but instead the sun was banished?

We still don’t know why the alien race covered up/deleted the sun. We don’t even know if it’s a simulation or whatever- But what if, instead, this alien race recognized some kind of power the sun had? A power that made it dangerous to the galaxy it resided in?

Maybe they moved the sun somewhere else, or the Earth somewhere else?

This is half-baked as all hell but still a fun concept. There’s so many directions Aiden could take with this story.

[coeurcanelle]

Hold my heart even if it's cold pt1

pairing: surfer!ellie x reader

fluff,sad ending

masterlist

you want to try a new sport to fight boredom this summer. You meet Ellie who's a surfer. She teaches you how to ride the waves but not how to fight their embrace

The waves rose and fell, their rhythm steady like the beating of a heart. The sun kissed the horizon, spilling liquid gold across the ocean’s surface. Among the endless blue, she stood, a silhouette against the shimmering expanse, balanced gracefully on her board. Every movement was poetry in motion — the curve of her body as she leaned into a wave, the spray of water cascading like diamonds when she turned.

You watched from the shore, your toes buried in the cool sand.

The wind tugged at her auburn hair, and you squinted against the sun’s brilliance to follow the surfer’s form. There was something hypnotic about her, something magnetic. She wasn’t just riding the waves; she was part of them, as though the ocean itself had chosen her.

You gathered all the courage you could muster, determined not to let another boring summer slip by. Not when the sun above promised brighter days, and certainly not when the chance to meet someone as talented as her had just appeared before you.

She emerged from the water, shaking her hair free of droplets. A few specks splashed onto your swimsuit.

With your heart pounding, you finally asked, "Teach you? I've never taught anyone before. Are you a beginner? Never ridden a wave at all?"

Her emerald eyes locked with yours, searching for the reason behind your request.

"I know how to swim."

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, her smile both warm and knowing. Not only was she amazing, but her voice had a melody all its own.

"I mean, we all start somewhere," she said, setting her surfboard down beside her, then scratching behind her neck.

Surfing was her passion, but she’d never shared it with anyone. Too precious, too personal.

"Please, I can pay you if you want. 10 per hour?"

She caught the hint of desperation in your voice, and you winced inwardly, realizing the first impression you were giving this cool surfer.

"10?" she laughed. "That’s all I get?"

"That’s all I have..." you lied. Of course, you had more, but you hadn’t expected to spend so much of your money on surfing lessons when you woke up this morning.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

"15?" you suggested, but she crossed her arms, unimpressed.

Was she really that thirsty for money?

"20?" you sighed, mentally counting how much would vanish from your wallet by the end of the afternoon.

"Deal."

A weight lifted from your chest in relief as she extended her hand. You shook it firmly.

It wasnt a waste of money. It was the promise of good times and new timeless memories.

You waded in together, the waves curling around you like curious whispers.

She told you her name was Ellie. She talked you through the basics, her voice a soothing cadence against the crash of the surf. You wobbled on the board, your balance shaky, but Ellie was always there, steadying you with a hand on your arm or an encouraging smile.

A wave was forming a bit further out ,Ellie's eyes sparkled with excitement. The adrenaline rushing through her veins and her heart plumping with anticipation. She never got enough of this feeling.

"Ready to do this one ?" She turned to you with a smirk.

The wave wasn’t going to get too big—perfect for a beginner like you to put the theories she’d taught you into practice.

You nodded and shot back a smirk,matching her energy.

"Remember,just relax and dont think about it too much."she laid flat on her board and began paddling toward the wave,you mirrored her,your heart beating with anticipation and a tiny bit of nervousness. "And if you don't succeed now you can....succeed later than originally planned"

You could tell she wasn’t sure how to ease the weight pressing on your chest, but the intention behind her words made your heart feel lighter, warm against the chill of the water.

"It’s just a small wave, not a tsunami."

She chuckled, her smile growing wider. "I know, I’m just saying."

You paddled harder, the rhythm of your strokes matching the beat of your pulse. As the wave came closer, you could feel the swell beneath you, a force of nature that was both thrilling and intimidating. Ellie surged ahead, her body leaning into the wave with confidence. She was a perfect blend of grace and power, carving through the water like it was second nature.

You followed suit, catching the wave, your board gliding smoothly as it picked up speed. The water rushed beneath you, the world narrowing into just you and the wave. For a split second, you felt the magic of it—like you were one with the ocean, the wave supporting you as you moved with it.

But then, as the wave began to crest, you lost your balance, your feet shifting too late. The board wobbled beneath you, and before you knew it, you were tumbling into the water.

You resurfaced, breathless but okay, your arms floating back to the board as you admired Ellie. She was still on the wave, her movements fluid and effortless, carving her way down the line like she owned the ocean.

It felt so natural for her, feeling the force of the waves beneath her feet propulsing her forwards. No matter how much she's lost in her life,she still believed in the unbreakable bond she had with the ocean.

She finished her ride, then paddled back toward you, her grin wide. "Just a small wave, huh?"

The hours slipped by effortlessly, and you wouldn’t mind if they stretched into days. Ellie gave you more tips, sharing everything she wished she had known as a beginner.

Watching you struggle to stay steady on the board reminded her of her early days surfing, when each fall made her swear she’d quit. But seeing you laugh, your unwavering determination to learn, made her want to teach you everything she knew about the ocean.

One day, she'd take you to her favorite spots on the beach, but for now, it was time for you to go. Every great moment had its bittersweet end.

"That's gonna make 60 for you. For three hours," she said, grinning.

You stopped in your tracks, turning toward her. "What?"

"Twenty bucks an hour, you said." You thought she was joking about that earlier.

"Oh, right—the money." You walked back out of the water, sitting down on the beach before reaching for your bag and pulling out your wallet.

It was filled with an unnecessary amount of coins, but the bills were another story.

"Are you sure that’s 60?" you asked, looking up at her with an apologetic smile, hoping for a discount.

"Well, two times three equals six, and if you add a zero, that makes sixty." You rolled your eyes at her teasing tone.

"Five-year-old math," she shrugged, her smirk returning.

You didn't know she could be such a tease.

"Isn’t that too much money for you?"

Her smirk widened into a smile as she laughed.

"Too much?"

It was short, but it sounded so good—light and soothing, like wind chimes in a summer breeze.

Her eyes dropped to your hand, still holding your wallet. "Just say you wanted to steal from me."

Your eyes widened. That wasn’t your intention at all. All you wanted was to have fun and learn something new. And Ellie had been so kind in teaching you. Getting into trouble now, when you’d just met her, was the last thing you wanted.

"Noo, I just don’t have that much right now. I promise I’ll pay you back," you said, hoping she wouldn’t press the issue or, worse, tell you to never come back to learn surfing again.

She looked at you, and this time, you couldn’t read her expression.

Did you mess up that badly?

Then the silence broke, and she laughed again.

"What’s so funny?" you asked, your confusion only making her laugh harder.

"I don’t care about money," she said, a playful glint in her eyes. "I was just messing with you."

She finally stopped laughing, and you met her gaze, searching for any trace of sarcasm or mischief.

"You weren’t laughing at my misery?"

Ellie blinked in surprise. Her? Laughing at you being broke?

"What? No—I'm not like that. Really, I was just messing with you. It’s free. You don’t owe me anything," she reassured you, noticing the way you were studying her. It seemed you were falling harder than she had expected.

"For real?" you asked, still unsure.

"Yeah, you don’t need to pay me." Ellie shrugged. Usually, people would get her jokes easily but if you were that easy to fool, she won't stop with you.

You sighed in relief and put your wallet back in your purse. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun for free. But now, the sun was dipping low, making way for the moon and a fresh night.

Ellie stood there, waiting until you were ready to leave. She didn’t want this moment to fade too quickly into a memory. She wanted to see you again.

"Tomorrow? Same time?" she suggested, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips.

You smiled, realizing you’d get to spend time with her again.

"Only for free."

You winked at her as you said goodbye, leaving her standing there.

To Ellie, this wasn’t really free. Your charm, the way you made her heart flutter, cost more than anything.

And that was enough for her.

♧°♧°♧

It quickly became a habit—the thrill of riding the waves and the quiet joy of spending time with the freckled-face girl.

Afternoon after afternoon, Ellie would offer little tips to help you improve your balance, and once you had the basics down, she'd teach you how not to let the waves carry you away.

Each day, you learned more—not only about mastering the surf but about the ocean itself. She showed you how to listen to the whispers of the water beneath you, how to sense the ebb and flow of the tides before they even began to form.

“See that?” she asked, her voice calm but excited. “The waves are forming closer together, and the water’s pulling back faster than usual. That’s a sign of a high tide coming in.”

You furrowed your brow, trying to see what she saw. She smiled happy to freely share her passions knowing you wouldnt judge her in return. Seeing the pure interest shining in your eyes filled an empty spot she didnt know existed in her heart.

“Feel this?” she said dipping her hand in the water. “It’s cooler here, near the surface. That means the tide’s pushing deeper currents upward. And see how the waves get steeper, almost like they’re rushing to the shore? That’s because the water level’s rising. It’s like the ocean’s inhaling.”

You tilted your head, amazed by her ability to read the water like a book. “How do you know all this?”

She chuckled softly, her freckles catching the golden light. “I’ve been watching the ocean my whole life. It talks to you if you’re willing to listen. The way it moves, the way it feels—it’s like it’s letting you in on a secret. You just have to pay attention.”

From then on, every wave, every pull of the current, felt like a story waiting to be told. And with Ellie as your guide, you began to understand that the ocean wasn’t just a force to conquer—it was something to connect with, to respect, to love.

Soon, your laughter shifted into sighs of exasperation. Normally, you would have packed up your things and left the beach, thanking her for the private lessons before heading home.

But when she saw you pulling your clothes over your swimsuit, gathering your towel and bag, ready to go, she felt the sting of missing you already.

So, she offered to buy you a drink at the beachside bar—anything to keep you there just a little longer before the day slipped away into memory.

You didn’t even notice when the moon began taking the sun’s place as you sat with her, listening to stories of her early days as a surfer—the shadows of her struggles and the light of her triumphs. You forgot the soft, rhythmic crash of the waves, their sound melting into the melody of her laughter, or the way her voice would rise with excitement and pure delight.

You never imagined someone could be as beautiful as the ocean, as radiant as the sun, and that this same person would take an interest in someone like you.

Ellie was both a talker and a listener.

She’d rest her head on her hand, listening intently as you spoke about life beyond summer, the weight of your studies, and the dull rhythm of university days. Then, she’d watch your eyes light up when you talked about the hobbies that kept you going.

She’d lift her head, her smile reaching from ear to ear, as she shared that she loved the same things.

It wasn’t hard to make her smile.

But it was almost impossible not to let your heart melt when you saw it.

And soon, you found yourself lost in it—lost in her words as she wandered off into stories about her collection of PS4 games and the list of new ones she still wanted to play.

You could listen to her talk for hours. You weren’t exaggerating. She had that rare ability to talk about anything and somehow make it sound fascinating. But soon, Ellie ran out of things to say, and she didn’t want the silence to settle between you like an awkward wave.

Then, out of nowhere, a joke she had heard long ago popped into her head.

You raised an eyebrow as you watched her suddenly turn away, her body shaking as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

"Are you okay?" you asked, your hand instinctively finding its way to her back.

She turned back to you, meeting your concerned and confused gaze. She bit her lip, struggling to keep her voice steady. "Yeah, I just thought of something. Sorry."

You pulled your hand away, crossing your arms instead. "Are you going to spill the tea or keep laughing like a psycho who forgot to take their meds?"

And then you heard it again. Her melodic laugh, this time louder and a bit goofier. You couldn’t help but wonder if she was thinking about your ridiculous falls earlier, every time you wiped out on the smallest wave.

"It’s really stupid," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "I don’t even remember where I heard it."

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile,wanting to hear the stupidest sentence slipping through her lips.

"Okay..." she said, finally calming herself down, clearing her throat as if gathering every ounce of willpower to keep her words from turning into gibberish.

"Why did uranus start a diet?"Her smile was widening by the second.

You heard something else.

"My what?"you asked.

She couldn't hold it back any longer, and the genuine confusion on your face only made it worse.

"The planet ! Oh my god" she corrected, and this time, you joined in the laughter. You really should head home and get some sleep—tomorrow’s instructions would be hard to understand if you kept this up.

"The planet," she repeated, still chuckling, determined to finish the joke. "Uranus. Why did it start a diet?"

You wiped a tear from your eye. "I don’t know..."

"Because it was tired of its gas-tronomic problem!" The pitch of her voice rose, and the effect was immediate.

You both couldn’t stop laughing. Her laughter was so contagious, and the whole scene played back in your mind like a loop. You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion, the alcohol, or just her, but your laughter blended together, unstoppable.

This caught the attention of the bartender and other random people, who were quietly enjoying their drinks. You stopped, feeling their eyes on you, whispers rising as you disturbed the quiet atmosphere.

Ellie gradually calmed herself, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"Why, of all things, were you thinking about this now?" you asked, earning a final chuckle from her.

"At least I’m keeping the conversation going," she said, finishing the last of her drink. You couldn’t help but notice the graceful movement of her neck as she swallowed.

"You have terrible jokes," you teased.

"It only gets worse," she replied, reaching for another bottle. She poured both your glasses, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Wanna hear another one?"

This was going to be a long night.

♧°♧°♧

You were a fast learner—Ellie herself had told you so. With each day, you grew more confident on the board. Your falls became rarer, and the number of waves you rode successfully increased steadily. You might not be as skilled as Ellie yet, but it was enough to convince you to take surfing seriously.

So, instead of renting surfboards by the beach, you decided to buy one for yourself.

"Does green go better with blue or pink?" you asked, eyeing the display of surfboards before you. Ellie’s board was green, and you wanted to match with hers.

"I don’t know… blue?" she replied, standing beside you. She hadn’t been so picky when she bought her own board. To her, it was all about durability and the ability to flow with the water.

But she noticed you were considering more than just practicality. The boards now seemed to carry a higher standard in your eyes.

"I'll get pink, then," you decided, grabbing the pink surfboard in front of you, already imagining the rush of riding high with her by your side.

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Why’d you ask me if you already made your choice?"

"Just wanted to see if you had good taste," you smirked, turning toward the cashier.

"Green goes with blue. I’ll die with that on my grave," she said, shaking her head.

You paid and left the shop with Ellie, mentally noting not to rely on her color advice in the future.

With a teacher like Ellie, there was no room for regression—your skills grew steadily, carving a flawless path of progress.

You finally understood why she loved it so much.

In just a few weeks,surfing had become your own kind of addiction, a rush you couldn’t imagine leaving behind when summer ended. The roar of the waves, the electric pull of their power, and the art of dancing in their embrace—no matter how often you did it, it never lost its magic.

As excitement rushed through your veins,you grabbed your handbag and your towel,parking your car near the beach and walking to your usual spot with your surfboard in hand.

There she was,right where she belonged.

Ellie floated above the water as though she were part of it, her auburn hair catching the breeze and glowing under the sunlight.

She’d just conquered a high tide, her board slicing through the foam with precision, and now the ocean was building something bigger, something grander.

Her eyes swept over the beach, briefly searching. She didn’t need long to find you. You were always there, never late, planted firmly on the sand, captivated by the freckled-face girl who seemed born for the waves.

Spotting you, Ellie flashed her trademark smirk, the one she knew kept your gaze locked on her. With practiced ease, she stretched out on her board, her movements deliberate and smooth as she began paddling toward the rising wall of water.

As the wave loomed behind her, its crest curling into a powerful arc, Ellie positioned herself perfectly. The water surged forward, and she caught it effortlessly, standing in a smooth motion. Her balance was flawless as the wave seemed to rise around her, towering and mighty.

Ellie moved with it as if she were one with the tide.

She carved sharp turns into the water, each motion sending sprays of foam into the air, the sunlight catching every droplet.

For a breathtaking moment, she disappeared into the wave’s barrel, only to emerge flying out the other side, her board skimming the surface like it had wings.

She rode it all the way to the shore, coming to a slow stop just in front of you, careful not to splash your swimsuit. Water glistened on her skin as she shot you a playful grin.

"are you gonna join me or what?"she asked the thrill of her ride subsiding with the soft crushes of the waves behind her. Her eyes trailed down your body,before landing on your hand.

She took it, fingers intertwining with yours, pulling you toward the water, but you stopped her. "C’mon."

"The water's cold. Gotta wait"you protested

"Seriously?"She groaned rolling her eyes her impatience growing by the second.

The small waves reached your ankles, their cold touch sending a shiver through you.

But Ellie didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, she pointed behind you with her free hand. "Seagulls!"

You turned around, but there were no seagulls. By the time you realized, she had scooped you up in her arms and was running toward the cold water.

"Ellie! Wait, plea-"

Bubbled came out of your mouth as she threw you into the water.

It was cold,enveloping you instantly, stealing the warmth from your skin in a shocking embrace. For a moment, everything was muffled—your gasp, the roar of the waves—but as you resurfaced, the sound of Ellie’s laughter broke through, loud and unapologetic.

She was doubled over, clutching her stomach as she pointed at you.

“What the fuck, Ellie?!” you sputtered, water streaming down your face.

“You said you had to wait,” she teased, barely able to speak through her laughter. “Figured you’d wait less if you were already in!” With that, she sent a playful splash of water your way.

Cold water.

"I'm gonna kill you"

"Woah im so so sca-"

Before she could react, you lunged, grabbing at her arm. She shrieked and laughed as you pulled her into the water with you, the two of you tumbling into the waves in a chaotic splash.

Ellie broke free, scrambling and half-swimming away as you burst into laughter.

The chase brought you deeper into the waves, where your feet could no longer touch the sandy bottom. The cool water tugged at your legs, a mix of resistance and freedom, as you propelled yourself toward Ellie. She glanced back, her grin widening as she realized you were closing in.

“got you !" you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around her waist.

Ellie let out a startled laugh, struggling to stay upright as your combined weight threatened to pull you both under.

Your laughter bubbled up uncontrollably as you both wrestled, a tangle of arms and legs, splashing and twisting to stay afloat. Every time you tried to find balance, another wave would crash over you, dragging you apart for a moment before you reconnected with a grip on her arm or shoulder.

“Ellie, I swear—” you sputtered between breaths, fighting to keep your head above water.

“I’m trying to breathe!” she choked out, laughing so hard she had to tread water just to stay up. “This is your fault!”

“My fault? You threw me in!”

The banter dissolved into giggles that turned frantic as your legs began to protest the effort. The ocean wasn’t forgiving to tired muscles, and the playful thrashing became slower, less coordinated.

“Okay, okay, truce,” Ellie said, her voice tinged with exhaustion but still light.

“Agreed,” you replied, feeling your legs give out beneath you.

Ellie grabbed your hand, and together you turned toward the shore, letting the waves push you gently forward. It wasn’t far, but each stroke felt heavier, the promise of solid ground pulling you on.

Finally, your feet brushed against the sand. Relief washed over you as you staggered out of the water, Ellie following close behind. The two of you collapsed onto the shore, the cool breeze contrasting with the warmth returning to your bodies.

For a moment, neither of you said anything, just staring up at the clear sky, catching your breath. Then Ellie turned her head to look at you, her freckles standing out against her sun-kissed skin.

"Can't believe I almost died today because of you," you muttered, not tearing your eyes away from the vast sky above you.

"Dude, I just saved you. Would it kill you to say thanks?"

You didn’t respond—just to annoy her.

"Come on," Ellie whined, nudging your shoulder. You turned to her, her emerald eyes burning into yours, a challenge in them.

"Fine. Thank you. Just don't push me in the water when I’m not ready okay?" you said slowly, sitting up and brushing the sand from your body.

Her gaze lingered over you, taking in the soaked swimsuit, the wet strands of your hair, and the way your skin caught the light, glistening like something out of a dream. Only the tail was missing, but in that moment, she believed in mermaids.

She had to force herself to look away before she realized just how much you enchanted her. "Okay, okay. I won’t anymore. Promise."

She almost sealed it with a touch, reaching for your hand, but the moment she saw the soft smile tugging at your lips, a sudden shyness swept over her.

You didn’t need to be a mermaid to have her heart. And even if she lived in a world full of magic and fantasy, no alchemist’s strongest elixir could undo the way her heart raced for you.

Clearing her throat, she glanced away, trying to mask the spark dancing in her eyes. "Wouldn’t want you to drown and make me do mouth-to-mouth or anything."

A soft laugh escaped you, and she joined in, the sound blending with the rhythmic roll of the waves. The water, now gently lapping at your feet, wasn’t cold anymore—it was warm, almost comforting.

"Still cold?" she asked, standing and brushing the sand from her legs. Her eyes shone with impatience, a flicker of excitement dancing in them.

The waves weren’t going to ride themselves, after all.

"Nope," you replied, grabbing your surfboard and wading deeper into the water, following her as she paddled away from the shore.

You wouldn’t mind at all. If she had to do mouth-to-mouth to save you, you’d let the water pull you under willingly—just to feel the softness of her lips against yours.

But did she feel the pull too?

Maybe it was too soon to know.

Holding her heart felt like diving into the unknown, so for now, holding her hand as you both sailed through the waves was enough.

[kitty-lattee]

I forgot to post this! I thought about this theory last night and wrote some stuff about it! AMA about it! (Sorry for the poor handwriting)