#could be!!! but it just isn't!! she needs more she needs to BE more she just needs to be...god anyways maybe i'll rewatch this tomorrow :'(

[archangeldyke-all]

isha being non verbal it's so important to me because i also go non verbal sometimes and i can spent days like that so i got a request about it 🙂‍↕️

so, despite trying to learn sign language, i got some kind of made up sing language that i use to communicate with my sister and my parents, it's not the most pratical but they understand me so it's fine

i was thinking about reader that sometimes goes non verbal, an then her and isha made up a secret sing language that only them can understand and sometimes sevika it's being grumpy or jinx more annoying than usual and they use it to talk shit about them, at first sevika and jinx don't notice it but at some point they start to get at the fact they can't understand those sign and be like "hey whats happening here"

or maybe just something about sev and a non verbal reader, anything it's fine 🤗

this is just so sweet omg okay

men and minors dni

there are a lot of adjustments you have to make in your life when jinx and isha come tumbling into it.

for one thing, any semblance of privacy you and sevika once had is out the window. neither isha or jinx find the need to knock, no matter how much you beg them to.

never in your life did you think you'd be making a category in your monthly budget for toys-- but here you are.

adjusting to jinx's picky eating habits (mostly her refusal to eat anything that isn't spicy enough to kill an infant) has been a challenge, but over time you've managed to find several dishes that get her veggies in her.

but, luckily, you never had to adjust to isha's muteness.

you go mute sometimes. sevika's known this about you since you first started dating, and when she moved you into her home a few years down the road, she started taking sign language classes, just so she could communicate with you on your mute days.

it's the nicest, sweetest thing anyone's ever done for you. and now it's paying off doubly, because you and sevika get to teach your girls the language.

jinx, surprisingly, is the most excited about it. she's always asking you or sevika to teach her how to sign something, and for the longest time you just think it's another thing the girl's freakishly good at.

but then, one night, you walk by the girls' room and catch them whispering under jinx's covers, a flashlight illuminating their silhouettes as jinx gently walks isha through the new signs she learnt from sevika earlier in the evening.

at the time, isha had rolled her eyes and gotten frustrated, her little fingers not able to keep up with sevika's; and she ran away from the dinner table to color in the living room.

and now, here's jinx, taking the time to gently, slowly work her little sister through the motions, encouraging her with soft cheers and claps. isha lets out an excited little giggle, and you hear a loud, wet smooch ring out from under the covers. "you're doin' it kid!"

your heart clenches, and you sprint back to your bedroom to tell sevika about the adorable sight you'd just walked in on.

over time, with you and sevika's teachings and jinx's special encouragement, isha starts to sign more and more.

it's great. you get a better understanding of isha's personality now that she can communicate with you, and you're always shocked by the little girl's humor. she makes you laugh so much you've been going to bed with sore abs almost every day.

best of all though, are the days when both you and isha are mute and signing all day. it usually ends with the two of you coming up with some secret codes-- mostly born out of mistakes, some born out of jokes about your speaking family.

it leads to the two of you having your own little language.

when sevika's acting particularly grumpy, or hungry, or protective-- you or isha will catch each other's eyes and quickly sign a single word. 'bear'

when jinx is locked in on an invention even isha can't understand, answering isha's questions with single word sentences, scratching her head and humming to herself as she scribbles on her notebooks; isha will come find you and sadly sign 'jinx went monkey mode.' you'll just giggle and find something to do with the girl to keep her entertained as jinx works.

sometimes, isha will flash you a special waggle of her fingers-- something only the two of you know. it's her request for attention, a way for her to ask for a hug or some cuddles. it always makes something special burst inside you, and you're quick to wrap the girl up in your arms.

when isha gets tired of signing, her mind tired from communicating all day, you'll check in on her and she'll give you a gentle little flick of her hand-- her way of saying she's done talking for the day. you've started using the little sign on your own, when talking gets too overwhelming, you'll use it to tell your family that you want to sign.

so, some of you and isha's private language leaks out into your whole family's use. but, most of it stays special between the two of you.

...until you get caught.

sevika's practically hanging off of you as you make dinner, nuzzling against your throat and taking deep breaths of your scent; when isha comes running into the kitchen, singing for help to tie her apron.

you chuckle, pulling her up onto the counter in front of you and wrapping the ties of her apron around her waist, tying them into a little bow and giving her a kiss.

what's wrong with big mama? she asks, reaching out to tug a strand of sevika's hair. you chuckle, and sevika grunts, stirring on your shoulder.

bear. you sign back.

isha giggles and sevika grunts against you.

"what'd you just call me?" she asks. you freeze, and isha bursts into nervous laughter.

"nothin'." you say. sevika nips your throat and you squeak. "ah! nothing!" you squeal.

"you called me a bear?" she asks.

isha bursts into breathy giggles, her feet kicking with excitement as sevika slowly pulls away to glare at you.

"no?" you squeak.

sevika grunts, and then she flings you in the air.

isha bursts into squeals and you curse, scrambling to hold onto sevika as she tosses you around.

"i'll show you a bear!" she growls, grinning at the sound of isha's laughs. you can't stop screaming and laughing, and when sevika finally sets you down, she turns to isha with a glower. "you think im a bear?"

isha's cackling and shaking her head no, squirming as sevika reaches forward to start tossing her around.

you watch with glee as you wife throws you screaming, squealing kid in the air, both of them laughing between sevika's attempts at bear noises.

jinx stumbles in with a confused look, until she sees the way isha's laughing. she ducks under your arm, leaning against you.

"what happened here?" she asks. you snort.

"sevika figured out some of our secret language."

jinx chuckles. "how you guys call her a bear?"

"you knew!?"

"you aren't subtle." she says with a giggle as isha starts to karate chop sevika's back and shoulders. "i know about you two callin' me a monkey too." she huffs.

you cackle and kiss her forehead. "that was isha's nickname."

"figures. little shit." jinx says fondly.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[thedreadvampy]

The (133k ����) notes on this post are FULL of people referencing 1984. Like I would guess about every third reblog with tags/comments mentions 1984.

And I'm not saying 1984 doesn't have relevance but I'm actually genuinely interested that in like 60k reblogs, I'm not sure anyone's made the literary comparison I would make, which is Farenheit 451.

See, cause 1984 is about state suppression of information. But Farenheit 451 is about the idea that, as the state of the world gets more distressing, people become increasingly hostile to the idea of discomfort, and refuse to acknowledge or speak about things that affect them. The first event of the story is the main character's wife attempting suicide, but when he tries to talk to her about what's wrong, she reacts as if the only problem is that he's talking about something negative.

So I kinda wonder why so many reblogs agree that 1984 is the reference point for this

maybe some of it is the role 1984 plays in the cultural canon and some of it is that, while it's a good book, a non-zero amount of F451 is also based on 'political correctness gone mad! shakespeare is cancelled because of Woke!'

but also

I think it speaks to the difference between what I was thinking of when I made this post (that people tend to a) confuse discomfort with harm and b) treat the word for a subject as the source of discomfort about the subject) to how the majority of people seem to read the post (social media censorship is stealing our language)

cause 1984 is about imposed censorship. and the majority of discussions mentioning 1984 on this post are referencing social media companies and occasionally governments legislating against certain language or topics. language is Taken From You by others, with the deliberate purpose of silencing dissent.

but Farenheit 451, while it includes very similar types of state suppression and manufactured consent, doesn't really frame the problem as originating from a dictatorial state but from our own communities' fear, looking for a target and for ways to feel comfortably innocent. That's not necessarily a more complete read than the 1984 one but it's closer to what I was originally thinking of.

Not talking about rape doesn't protect people from the effects of rape, just like not taking about depression or war or pain doesn't stop the characters in F451 trying to kill themselves to the degree there's a special emergency service devoted to undoing suicides. But people react as if it does.

And there's a whole lot I could also get into about how I think both this problem and the literary comparison connects to things like cosy fandom culture, and the proliferation of blockbuster franchises, and the fact that people are more up in arms about ship wars than actual genocide, and the Sex Scenes In Media discourse, and the discomfort around public expressions of 'deviant' sexualities or gender, and how we discuss discomfort as if it was harm, but those are different posts and this post is about language.

and 1984 is a perfectly apt (or doubleplus good) comparison, I just think it has the potential for fully externalising something which we need to also take some direct community responsibility for. It isn't just about what you're Allowed to say or what people say to you, it's about what role discomfort plays in our own minds and whether we feel it's an inherent evil to be uncomfortable.

you gotta be able to say "die"

you gotta be able to say "suicide"

you gotta be able to talk about "sex"

they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE

because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.

even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"

like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.

[ddejavvu]

current brainrot is cock hungry reader with big dick steve. just desperate for him when in public and reader not being able to wait until they get home bc she needs him in her now

this post is 18+. minors dni.

You'd been attempting to relegate your hands to strictly the meat of Steve's thigh, but once you feel the denim against your fingertips, you itch for more.

You're relatively concealed, contained within the darkness of Starcourt's movie theater, but there's an audience of people around you that probably wouldn't be too cool with watching you and Steve bone.

That's why, when your fingers creep just inches to the north, Steve's hand shoots out to stop your own.

"Woah, hotshot, be careful. You're getting fresh."

"I'm sorry Steve," You huff, almost a whine, "I- I know we're in public, I just-" You've been on edge for days, limited in your schedule by work and other social obligations. You haven't gotten to fuck Steve in over a week, and it gets harder and harder to keep yourself civil around him when you can physically feel an ache of what you're missing.

He takes your hand in his and squeezes, holding it steady as you both try refocusing on the movie.

You manage all of twenty seconds before faking a casual glance around you, noting that you're in the very last row, up against the back wall with only three people in your immediate vicinity, all in the row in front of you. If you can just-

"I can hear you thinking terrible, sexy thoughts." Steve whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he leans over.

"Sorry! Sorry. How'd you-?"

"Your hand was wandering again."

You glance down to where you'd unconsciously dropped his hand in search of the soft skin of his upper thigh through his jeans. You can see the outline of his cock through his pants, which isn't uncommon for someone as well-endowed as Steve in the tight fit of his jeans, but it's perhaps a smidge more pronounced than it usually is.

"Can you make it to the bathroom?" He asks, "There's an old lady in the second row and I don't know if I could... perform around her."

You're up and out of your seat before he can even finish speaking, and Steve nearly spills your joint popcorn trying to follow along where you're dragging him.

"Easy! Excuse me, sorry." He mumbles, weaving through the crowd as you leave your snacks behind in the darkness of the theater. Once you reach overhead lights you're on him, and Steve lets out a surprised grunt as he's pushed against the wall of the movie theater hallway.

"Jesus! You're a pervert," He notes, "You're worse than a man. We were heading for the bathroom, remember?"

"Fuck the bathroom," You pant, "Or- actually, fuck me. Please and thank you."

"In the hallway?"

"You're into it." You glance cursorily down at the outline of his cock in his pants, noting that it's even more pronounced than it was before, "Hurry up, Steve. I wanna catch the end of the movie."

[felassan]

David Gaider on Cassandra (the last of these retrospective character threads), under a cut for length:

"This is the last of the (major) characters I wrote during my time on Dragon Age. I could go into others, and considered moving onto Stray Gods... but I feel like fewer would be interested, and I honestly can't keep up the pace. So let's make this the last, for now. So, yeah. Cassandra. We knew early on that Cassandra would come into DAI as a companion, along with Varric, that this was part of what DA2 set up for the sequel. Now, I'd written Cassandra's short scenes in DA2, yes, but I wasn't her writer for DAI. Initially, she was Jennifer Hepler's character. By mid-project, in fact, Cassandra was more or less fully written. Jennifer did a great job - solid character, solid quest. The sticking point, it turned out, was her romance. Now, to be fair, Jennifer told me straight up when we began that writing romance wasn't her forte, but she'd give it a go. The problem with the romance as she wrote it wasn't in its execution but more a clash between the character as Jennifer envisioned her and the requirements of her being a romance. See, I mentioned previously that a romance arc inherently limits the kinds of stories you can tell with a companion. Many responses I got can be summed up as "lol skill issue", but consider this: a companion romance isn't a fic you can just throw up on AO3. It's an investment of a lot of resources. If a companion has one, most of their resources need to be devoted to it - it's not "now let's ALSO add a romance"."

"That means it needs to take priority in who they are as a character and their arc. What's more, they need to be *appealing* to a big chunk of the player base - or at least someone we can imagine being broadly appealing, anyway. Thankfully, there are still many many stories this can accommodate. 😊 This, however, wasn't one of those. Was Cassandra a fascinating character? Absolutely. Her romance, though... Well, Jennifer DID warn me. She'd written Cassandra as a serious, self-righteous, pious woman who put the Inquisitor on a messianic pedestal. Romancing her meant changing her view of you. You did this by being... pushy. Jennifer didn't mean it to, I'm sure, but sometimes it came off as, at best, negging. At worst, a bit harassy. And Jennifer would have fixed it. This was a 1st draft, and the issues - while serious - were something a skilled writer like her could handle. No problem. Thing is, Jennifer left. You may not remember, but this was around the time a bunch of GamerGate dudes decided Jennifer was somehow responsible for ALL of BioWare's faults. Oh, the power she wielded! She, a writer, could even command the combat Bio made! The result was a LOT of ugly harassment. 😞 Is this why she left? You'd have to ask her, but it undoubtedly didn't help. The important thing is, she left - and there was nobody as senior nor as superhumanly fast as her to take over any unfinished work. This is where Patrick Weekes comes in: a solid, senior writer who could fill her shoes."

"It was great timing - not only did Cassandra need a writer, I'd slowly fallen more and more behind. It was clear by that point that I'd never be able to write Dorian AND Cole AND Solas as planned. They needed to pick up two. And I let them choose the ones who interested them, like all my writers. Patrick taking Solas was no surprise, and while I had Big Plans for Solas in the future I knew at least he'd be in good hands. I was reeeeaaaally hoping Patrick would then pick Cassandra... but they wanted Cole. My baby. Who I created in Asunder. I grumped, but Patrick clearly loved the character. They had ideas for Cole which... yeah yeah, sounded cool. Fiiine. 😅 Now I had to figure out what *I* was going to do with Cassandra. We couldn't move the romance to someone else, all the other female characters were well underway, and I didn't know the character well enough to fix her with tweaks. That meant a re-write. I didn't WANT to erase all that good work, but I needed to start from scratch. Yet how? A pious, self-righteous character was already a risk in terms of romantic appeal. There are only a small number of traits sorta considered universally unappealing but they're on that list. In this instance, Cassandra already being a known character helped. I came across a webcomic (by aimo, I think? AHH I wish I could find it now) that made a joke about Cassandra reading Varric's books. Off-hand, no basis for it, but funny. 😆 And I thought: YES. THAT'S IT. THAT'S WHAT I'M MISSING."

"I sat down and wrote the "fangirl" scene, just to test it out. Everyone loved it, and it served to change my image of who Cassandra was - a view of the inside, at the idealistic and awkward passion she felt, for so many things... AND the Maker. "Yes," I thought. "I could fall in love with this." Who knew Cassandra could be funny? Not anyone, coming out of DA2, yet here we were. It worked so well and her voice came so easily. Miranda Raison was game ofc, and amazing. Though Caroline did gripe that, if we ever met more Nevarrans THAT accent meant we'd have the Tali Problem all over again. 😅 Cassandra's romance is burned into my brain as the time when we THE most awkward conversation with the animators ever. See, that moment during the sex scene on the picnic blanket when she leans back and... there were suddenly these strategically-placed candles, juuuust covering the Sordid Bits. Thing is, they were so obviously placed just to do that. Plus, we'd already decided to do full nudity in DAI, hadn't we? WHY WERE THEY EVEN THERE? Turns out, the nudity thing was still pretty new to the team. They'd forgotten and put the candles there almost as a reflex. So prudish. So Canadian. 😂 I do find it kind of funny that, these days, what I mostly hear about Cassandra is from female fans upset at me because she wasn't a lesbian option. I mean, right? Who wouldn't want that? Technically not my decision, but I guess I WAS behind the companions having set preferences so... fair enough?"

"Some of them do take it to an entitled place, though, like Cassandra *should* have been a lesbian. Why? Because she looks like one, apparently, and that that's a bit of stereotyping which feels... odd? But it's not as if lesbian players are spoiled for choice left and right, so again: fair enough. It did lead to the best end credits VO perhaps ever, and overall I'm pretty happy with how Cassandra panned out. Things never end up like you expect, right? But such is game dev lyfe. 🥸🖖 Did you know Cassandra was THE most-romanced DAI character, by a good margin? Least, by a good margin? Dorian."

[source thread]

User: "Did you have any hand in her writing for Dawn of the Seeker?" David Gaider: "No, none. Nobody at BioWare had any hand in Dawn of the Seeker, outside of maybe Mike approving the script or direction? Only he could say for sure." [source]

User: "Was Miranda a specific casting choice by anyone on the team (similar to your picks for Merrill/Fenris/Solas), or was she simply a lucky find? I loved Miranda on the BBC series "Spooks", so I was very pleasantly surprised to learn she voiced one of my favourite DA characters" David Gaider: "I don’t remember how Miranda was cast. Auditioned, I expect, and she had a good “steely warrior voice” which is surprisingly uncommon among actresses. The accent she made up was all her, as well." [source]

User: "What's the Tali Problem?" David Gaider: "When Tali was the only Quarian, the actress doing a made-up accent was fine. Once there were others… do we get them all to mimic her? That’s a tall order!" [source]

User: "I'd say Solas is the most popular nowaday, but you need to be such a specific race/gender combo + most straight guys wouldn't go for him, i get hes not on top of the list, but I'd have expected Josephine over Cass." David Gaider: "You can’t go by how fans online talk about playing the game. There is almost zero correlation between the playstyles of the vocal hardcore and the masses." [source]

User: "I was a Dorianmancer. The cut content in Trespasser DLC was sad to read, it definitely felt short/abrupt for Dorianmancers. Anyway to share what was cut at all?" David Gaider: "I don’t know what was cut out of the conversation, as I never played it. I just heard about it after the fact." [source]

User: "Those end credits are truly incredible. Do you remember who wrote them? I'm guessing a combination of Mary Kirby & you?" David Gaider: "I wrote them, but I recall the entire team kind of took part in brainstorming the pieces of it." [source]

User: "I’m very curious- Do you know what direction you would have taken Cole and his story if you’d kept him?" David Gaider: "It's hypothetical at this point, but I suspect I would have been less willing to lose the serial killer aspect... or, at least, would have made that transition occur as part of his arc in DAI. Yet that's easy to say from this side of the divide. Who knows, really?" [source]

User: "With Cassandra you created one of the best characters in DA history." David Gaider: "Personally, my favorite response of hers is where she gets mocked for loving romance and she comes back with a retort about how it's a strength - how loving something and striving for the ideal takes courage. To me, that's central to her core." [source]

User: "inquiry: did you not write any of the Awakening characters?" David Gaider: "I wrote Anders, Justice, and Nathaniel in Awakening - but it was such a hurried project, my memories of it are pretty much a blur. "Yes, I worked on that" is almost all I can say about it, I'm afraid." [source]

[stevieschrodinger]

"No." Chrissy crosses her arms over her chest.

Eddie flops onto the bed dramatically, fucks it up, and slides onto the floor.

"But what about-"

"No."

"Chrissy-"

"No. This is it. This is your last chance. No fucking about, no forgiveness, no come back, you get that, right?"

"Yeah but they said that every other-"

"The label is ready to drop you."

"What?" Eddie screeches and climbs up off the floor. He's shirtless and sweaty, his hair half sicking up half sticking to his sweat. "They can't do that."

"They can. They will. The lawyers are already involved, Gareth's ready to walk away."

Eddie feels like he's just been slapped. Punched. Like he fell maybe, like that moment when you're nearly asleep but your body jolts you awake, a half remembered dream that you just tripped and went head first off the stage. "You're lying-" Chrissy doesn't lie, "Gareth. The guys, none of them would-" but he sees it now, sees it through unfortunately sober eyes. See's it in the look on Chrissy's face. Can look back at the half remembered drugged up haze of all the shit Eddie's gotten up to over the last two years. All the times he didn't show. All the times he pulled bullshit. All the times he staggered into practice, late and drunk. All the times he turned up high. All the times his therapist has made him talk through his mistakes, to own them, to be truthful with himself about his problems.

Eddie can't have a drink. He can't smoke anything or inject anything or shove anything up his nose. He has to deal with it. He has to see it. There's a mirror next to Chrissy, big and ornate, and overdone, just like everything else in the room. Drug addict Eddie decorated this room, black and red and gilt. Arrogant vampire chic. Eddie thought it was cool. Four months of rehab and therapy and he's come back to a bedroom he fucking hates. The godamn carpet is black; who even buys black carpet? The top of the dresser is a mirror; easier for the coke.

Eddie should have torn it all out already.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He doesn't even remember getting some of the tattoos he has. He's too thin, bony, sick looking. His skin is flush pink with rut and there's a wet patch where the head of his cock hangs heavy. Chrissy does not give a shit.

"Eddie, honey. They all would. They all will. This is what I've been telling you. They are done. One more slip, and that's it. Rehab said absolutely no emotional entanglements while you're vulnerable-"

"I am not fucking vulnerable-"

"Nothing at all that could undermine your progress. No Omega's Eddie, I mean it. No drugs. No rut suppressors, no hormones, no nothing. Eddie I have been through this place with a fine tooth comb, I swear to god there's not so much as a Tylenol in this whole building."

"But what if I get a headache?" Eddie asks, suddenly feeling pathetic and weak as a kitten.

"Steve will get you an ice pack."

Eddie blinks, "who the fuck is Steve?"

"He's here to help you through your rut-"

"You said no Omega-"

"He isn't. He's a Beta, and he's the best there is at this. He will feed you, he will nest with you, anything you need, he will get it for you, he will look after you, he will let you scent him until your rut is done-"

"But-"

"Beta scent is calming!" Chrissy talks over Eddie, "this is not a sex thing, you need to rub one out do not do it in front of Steve. Do not piss him off, do not push his boundaries, am I clear? The center highly recommended him for this, okay?"

Eddie rankles with irritation, with displeasure.

Chrissy's nose crinkles at the scent, "look, I chose Steve to reduce the risk okay, male Beta is about the safest person you can be with right now. You have been clean for nearly five months Eddie, please. I am begging you, not for me, for you, you will hate yourself for the rest of your life if you fuck this up again. And actually also for me because watching them rush you into intensive care I-" She stops, looks at the floor, "for me Eddie- I cannot watch you go through something like that again, okay? I am asking you as your friend, please."

The OD was stupid; but Eddie had it in his head he was immortal at the time. "Okay Chris. Okay."

"Good. Thank you. I...won't hug you right now though."

Eddie looks down at the tent he's pitching in his sweats, "that's fair."

Chrissy opens the bedroom door and leaves, there's a man standing there. Eddie's preference isn't men, and Chrissy knows that. Hell, Eddie would take an Alpha over a Beta, and Chrissy knows that too.

Eddie takes a deep breath. The voice of his therapist mutters something about judging people by their desirability. They've talked a lot about Eddie judging people; can this person provide drink, drugs, or a fuck? No? Then what's the point of them.

It's a hard thing to change, when that's been your worldview for years. Even so, Eddie cannot see the point of this man; so he shuts the door in his face.

[adrianastrix]

Another thing I'll add here is something that I was coincidentally discussing with a friend yesterday: this kind of issue can only be solved if our science education (and I'm talking BOTH Natural Sciences and Humanities) doesn't rely on teachers being simply a source of "correct" information.

I put "correct" in quotes because guys. GUYS. I was in a comitee for quality control of kids science textbooks (ages 11-14), and Jesus Christ. It was a book written in the Year of Our Lord 2022 and it had a SLUR as an "alternative name" to Down Syndrome. Not to mention information that was BLATANT WRONG when you as much as googled the legal definition of a certain thing, and much much more. We obviously bombed it, but there's the kicker: the only thing our ban ensured is that this textbook collection is out of question for Brazilian public schools. Private schools can use it, if they want to.

Which means that even schools can and, as much as we try, will spread misinformation, even if it's in a small scale. The teacher in the Twitter thread very astutely identified it as a crisis of authority. If education is just a matter of relaying "correct facts", it all comes down to a matter of authority. And the poor teacher feels hopeless because she can't even say, in good faith, that her word is inherently better than ChatGPT or Wikipedia or TikTok because, guess what, she could be wrong. There's no such thing as infallible authority.

There's only one solution, one that Education Scientists (which ARE a thing, I'm one of them!) have been saying since, I dunno, THE 18TH CENTURY: giving kids an education centered in DOING science, not memorizing its products. The teacher started amazingly by asking the kid to "look it up" in front of her. But what she COULD have done, if prepared for this kind of challenge (I obviously don't fault her for freezing when confronted by something for the first time) was to ask for the notebook or cellphone and show the student what she meant by "look it up" and how the results vary. And tell him that NO single source should be trusted, either her or ChatGPT, and when sources disagree, what should be the tiebreaker?

In other words, the only antidote is showing the kids HOW science is done, HOW you arrive at conclusions, and HOW documental research is done. Science isn't something that Very Smart Geniuses do in their ivory towers to create The Truth. It's science, not a sacred religious ministery. Science is mundane, messy, controversial, and everyone* can do it with a bit of training, just like everyone* can cook or sing or draw with the proper training. [*"everyone", of course, being a rethorical generalization; obviously there are circunstances in which people might NOT be able to do it, or might need especialized assistance that others don't need, but those are the exceptions, not the rule.]

The main reason why our education is stuck in memorization and trying to out-authority the internet has a name: Standard Testing.

It's LEAGUES easier to test for how many facts someone can spew exclusively from memory (you just need a multiple choice test that can be graded by a machine) than it is to test students for their ability of create, research and communicate knowledge (the current optimal way to do it is the whole process of writing a monography/dissertation/thesis).

The whole EVALUATION system holds us down WAY more than the teaching methods themselves, because when you are teaching scientific abilities, you WON'T be sparing time to ensure that all your students are commiting definitions and formulas to mind. At the VERY least, tests should allow students to search for the info they need: this alone already demonstrate that student's ability to research, compare and choose correct information.

The idea that you can compare kids by a test that quantifies the amount of information they have on their heads, and that once they perform well on a test, that info is certified as correct and true is RIDICULOUS. Information on the brain degrades with time, unless you need it constantly. And people who grade tests are human, humans can be wrong. The accepted answer in a test can be wrong.

But we have to maintain the illusion that we can OBJECTIVELY rank students, schools, school systems and nations on how much knowledge they have. Otherwise, how investors will be reassured that they are "top quality"? How private education businesses can boast that they are "the best", thus justifying their price tag? How international banks will "ensure" that the amount of money countries are investing in education are being "correctly spent" (instead of being used to repay them)?

Soooo... ChatGPT is only the tip of the iceberg. There ARE ways for us to solve that problem, there HAS been ways for it since the 18th FREAKING century. But as long as they don't make the money people happy, as long as we expect school knowledge to take the form of a standard list of memorized correct info, we will still be ineffectively fighting the robots.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

could you do a part two to the pit fighter vi fic where vi has a spit kink…pretty please😼

Part two hip hip hooray!! this one probably isn’t as delicious as the first I apologize, I’m allergic to writing good sequels

Content: 800 words, Pit fighter Vi and fem! waitress reader, fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), spit play, quickie in the bathroom🐱, Vi calls you cupcake you can interpret that little bit of info however you want, getting stuffed like a turkey happy thanksgiving

After that insane night, you and Vi became regular fuck-buddies.

It wasn't always when she was drunk after fights. Sometimes, she would slide into the kitchen while you were on your break and pull you into the staff bathrooms for quickies. She called you her "good-luck charm." You found yourself growing more and more wanting of her attention, always quick to her table when she visits after fights and feel her hot touch over every inch of your skin. Even in your dreams, you could feel her hands over the fat of your ass, her saliva branded over your navel from the countless times her mouth trailed down it, the bruises all over your thighs from her bites, and even the scent of alcohol filling your nostrils, haunting you when she isn't around.

As you fucked more and more, it was clear that she had some insane kinks. She loved fucking several orgasms out of your poor pussy; she couldn't help it. You looked all used up and still somehow all shy after. It made her heart jump.

One thing Vi really, really liked about you was that you were so sensitive to everything she does, and she could really do anything she wanted to you. You would just take it, even if your knees were buckling and there were tears in your eyes from the intensity of her actions.

Vi has you on the bathroom sink with your legs spread wide open, her tongue deep inside your soaked hole. This was just the thing - Vi tells you to bark, you bark. She tells you to jump, you ask how high. You’re wrapped around the girl’s fingers quite literally. She gives you the best sex, and you can't complain.

She shoves two fingers deep into your pussy and watches as your legs quiver, “fuck you take everything I give you so easily.”

Vi is absolutely mesmerized. You look like an erotic painting even in such a vulgar context with your fingers grasping as her hair, pulling her up so you can kiss her. Your cheeks are rosy and your lidded eyes seem to squeeze shut every time her fingers curl inside you. Your hair is plastered in sweaty tendrils on your forehead, messy strays sticking up. Her lips meet yours in a searing kiss before she breaks away.

“Open wide.” The command is laced with sweetness, but you’re too dumbed down by how warm her touch is that you only offer up a moan in return.

Vi sighs, grabbing your lips and parting them. “C’mon, stick your tongue out.”

“P-Please, Vi, I just need you to-"

“Stick your fucking tongue out or I will stop right here and now, cupcake.”

Your tongue quickly peeks out of your mouth, and Vi doesn’t hesitate to deliver a glob of her spit onto it.

“Swallow.” As she demands, she adds another finger, stretching you full of her digits.

You can’t process all of it; the sensation of her fingers drilling deep inside you, the taste of her saliva fills your taste buds, and all you can do is quickly swallow what she’s offered you with a grateful little whine.

Vi’s lips are back on yours, her tongue parting them to feel yours. You kiss her like she’s gonna disappear, tasting her once more and you can’t hold on much longer.

Her mouth doesn’t waste time returning to your clit, suckling on the soft bud and only bringing you tumbling to the orgasm you have been desperate for. Your juices coat her fingers up to her knuckles and she is now taking everything you have to offer her. Every wave of your orgasm is like a new firework being lit and launched up into the air, crackling and fading before the next hits you.

When it finally ends, Vi is breathlessly leaning into your body, as flushed as you are. Your ass is practically in the sink now and the whole restaurant definitely heard you two, but all you can think about is how soft you are for this black-haired woman to the point that if she spits into your open mouth, you accept is so graciously and if she fills every crevice of your cunt, all you will do is plead and beg for her to own you.

Even in her brash behavior, she still cares about you. Vi plants a soft kiss on your neck, not a bite or a sloppy smooch, but just a kiss. She then moves back to your lips and covers them with hers from the corner of your mouth to your bottom lip, her lips swollen and hot but so affectionate and somehow sweet, despite the relationship the two of you have.

You completely forgot about the burgers you were supposed to bring to table three like, 15 minutes ago.

[jayswifeshh]

all talk | p.js

there has always been a simmering tension between you and jay ever since you joined their friend group, hidden beneath playful banter and teasing remarks. but things changed when what started as a carefree night out with your seven friends quickly spiraled into something far more unexpected. between the music, the drinks, and the charged glances, the playful teasing shifts into something much more intense.

《 park¡jongseong x female¡reader

《 content - smut, a little fluff, teasing, protected sex, praise kink, drunk sex, jealously, oral, self-pleasure(jay), the reader isn't submissive and she's low-key a freak. probably missed a lot but it's my first time guys i'm so sorry!

if you're into a quick smut story this probably isn't for you. got carried away and it ended up being way longer than expected (i just like to yap a lot sry again babes)

《 wc - 9k

heesung and jake play a big role in this lol. jungwon's mentioned too just at the very end.

___________________________________________

you and jay… that was always a topic of confusion—for others, and sometimes even for yourselves.

this entire, incredibly eventful chapter of your life began when you met enhypen during one of your calvin klein photoshoots. it was a collaboration you hadn’t expected, and yet everything about it felt oddly seamless.

from the moment you met the group of boys, it felt as though you’d known them forever. they were warm, funny, and easy to talk to—qualities that made them stand out, especially since most of your friendships had been with girls.

what really caught you off guard was how quickly you became a part of their circle. suddenly, you were being invited to hangouts every other week when your schedules allowed, and you didn’t mind one bit.

all seven of them welcomed you with open arms, making you feel at ease in a way that was new and unexpected. it was strange to think about because kindness should be the standard, but your past experiences with men had left you guarded. this shift in dynamic, though refreshing, often felt too good to be true.

your relationship with each one of them was unique in its own way, but you seemed to connect best with one in particular— park jongseong.

your bond with jay was unlike anything you shared with the rest. from your very first exchange, there was an easy flirtation between the two of you that only grew stronger over time. the others teased you both relentlessly, saying how perfect you were for each other and insisting you should stop pretending and just make it official.

you and jay, however, would always dismiss their comments, laughing it off and insisting that you were just joking around. of course, the others never believed you, carrying on with their relentless teasing.

still, it never fazed you or jay. maybe it was because, deep down, the idea didn’t seem all that bad? you never stopped to analyze it, though. the truth was, you never had a “what are we?” conversation, and you weren’t exactly in a rush to have one either. you weren’t actively looking for love, and having a flirtatious dynamic with a man sculpted like a greek god certainly added some much-needed excitement to your life. who could complain? it was just innocent fun—you never crossed any boundaries or did anything beyond playful banter.

little did you know, though, that someday words would turn into actions.

the night everything changed began with a casual invitation. the guys were in new york city for a concert and decided to go clubbing in their free time. they wanted you to join.

the place they chose was nothing short of extravagant—a blend of a nightclub and bar, with a formal dress code and an exclusive guest list. it was an entirely new experience, especially since most of your outings with them were more casual: dinners, movie nights, or just hanging out at someone’s place.

the chance to dress up, drink, and let loose was too tempting to pass up. without a second thought, you said yes, not knowing that this night would mark a turning point in your relationship with jay.

after stepping into the upscale club, the eight of you naturally dispersed. some rushed off to the bar, others disappeared into the pulsing crowd, lost in the music and lights. a few mingled effortlessly with strangers, their laughter blending into the vibrant hum of the room.

you stayed back with jay, jake, and heesung, settling into a plush, semi-private corner on an l-shaped couch. the spot felt perfect—close enough to feel the energy of the club but far enough to offer a sense of privacy. from where you sat, you could watch the sea of bodies moving under the strobe lights, yet here, the music was muffled just enough to allow for easy conversation.

a sleek glass table in front of you was already cluttered with expensive liquor bottles, mixers, and half-finished drinks. you sat in the middle, jay on your left, so close that his knee brushed yours every time he adjusted his position. heesung occupied the far side, and jake sprawled casually on your right, his arm draped over the backrest.

the conversation was lively, flowing effortlessly from deep, reflective topics to ridiculous, out-of-pocket jokes that had all of you clutching your sides with laughter. the alcohol helped, loosening your words and deepening your bond as time slipped away.

it didn’t take long for you to feel the telltale signs of drunkenness. your cheeks felt warm, the edges of the room seemed softer, and your words occasionally slurred together. the guys weren’t far behind, their flushed faces and increasingly playful banter a clear indication of how much they’d had to drink.

but through the haze, you couldn’t help but notice jay. he’d always been charming and tactile, but tonight, something about him felt different—intensely focused. every so often, his hand would graze your bare leg, the touch fleeting but electric. occasionally, he’d reach out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering near your cheek in a way that made your breath hitch.

and then there were his hands—always finding ways to touch yours. jay had a habit of playing with your fingers, something you’d grown used to, but tonight, it felt more deliberate. his thumb traced slow, lazy circles on your skin, his touch so gentle it sent shivers up your spine.

his gaze, though, was what undid you. whenever his dark eyes locked with yours, it felt like the rest of the world faded away. there was an intensity to the way he looked at you tonight, as if he was trying to tell you something without saying a word. it made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite control, and the alcohol only amplified your awareness of him.

jake and heesung weren’t blind to what was happening. every time jay’s hand lingered a little too long or his gaze softened when he looked at you, the two of them would exchange amused glances. jake smirked openly, while heesung occasionally raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips twitching as if he was holding back laughter.

you noticed their silent teasing, of course, but jay seemed entirely unfazed. his focus stayed on you, as if the rest of the room didn’t exist.

as much as you tried to brush it off, blaming your racing thoughts on the alcohol, you couldn’t ignore the effect he was having on you. jay looked absolutely stunning tonight. his dark hair framed his face perfectly, soft strands falling effortlessly across his forehead. his black sweater clung to him just right, dipping low enough to reveal the sharp lines of his collarbones, while his tailored dress pants fit him like a dream. every detail about him seemed designed to make you lose your composure.

the night continued like this, the four of you huddled together while the others flitted in and out. occasionally, one of the members would stop by to join in on the conversation, only to dash off when a song they couldn’t resist came on. the corner you’d claimed felt like its own little world, insulated from the chaos of the club.

at one point, jay excused himself to the bathroom. you watched him go, your gaze lingering longer than you intended. the absence of his presence was immediate, like a sudden chill. the warmth of his touch, the weight of his attention, the way his voice softened when he spoke to you—it all left you reeling.

jake chuckled beside you, breaking your train of thought. “you good?” he teased, raising his glass in a toast. heesung just smirked knowingly, leaning back into the couch. to which you nonchalantly stated you're okay.

you shook your head, brushing off the slight unease from jay leaving. you leaned back into the cushions, letting the warm buzz of alcohol dull your thoughts. it wasn’t a big deal, you told yourself—he probably just needed a moment. the energy of the club, the thrum of the music, and the laughter from jake and heesung were enough to distract you. for now, the thought of jay and his lingering touches faded into the background.

but as the conversation flowed, jake leaned closer, his smirk catching your attention. “so,” he began, dragging the word out in a way that immediately put you on edge, “you know jay likes you, right?”

heesung, lounging comfortably, nodded with a sly grin. “oh, for sure. it’s not even subtle at this point. the guy can’t keep his hands off you.”

you froze for a second before letting out a laugh, shaking your head as you waved them off. “oh, come on. jay’s always like that—he’s just naturally touchy. it’s not out of the ordinary.”

jake raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “sure, but he doesn’t act like that with anyone else. have you seen him with us? the guy barely even gives us a pat on the back, let alone all the…” he mimicked brushing imaginary hair behind his ear, earning a snicker from heesung.

“exactly,” heesung added, crossing his arms. “jay’s different with you. it’s written all over his face. you’re the only one he looks at like that.”

rolling your eyes, you chuckled, trying to ignore the way their words made your heart skip. “you’re both drunk. he's flirty all the time—it’s just jay being jay.” you shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “he probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.”

the two exchanged another look, one of those silent conversations that only close friends could have. “okay,” jake said, dragging the word out again as if to humor you. “whatever you say.”

heesung smirked, leaning back into the couch. “denial is a river in egypt,” he muttered, earning a laugh from jake.

“and you two are delusional,” you shot back playfully, though the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed your confidence. you quickly changed the topic, refusing to let their words linger, but deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if they might be right.

heesung, however, wasn’t done. he leaned in dramatically, his voice lowering as if he was revealing some deep, dark secret. “you know, i don’t know why you’re pretending to be all innocent here.” he shot you a mischievous grin. “you’re just as flirty as jay—if not worse.”

before you could protest, he straightened up, then leaned forward again, dramatically acting out what he claimed was your behavior. “oh my god, jay,” he said in a mocking voice, fluttering his eyelashes. “you look so good tonight. i can’t stop looking at you.” he threw in a hair flip for good measure, causing you to laugh despite him making fun of you.

you gaped at him. “i do not do that!”

he grinned wider, clearly enjoying the playful torment. “sure you don’t,” he teased, pretending to sip from an invisible drink. “and then you throw in some accidental touches here and there, just like jay. like this” he reached over and lightly brushed your arm, his touch exaggerated and playful.

“stop!” you laughed, swatting his hand away. “you’re ridiculous, heesung!”

jake chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying the teasing. “you can’t deny it. you’re just as bad, if not more obvious, than jay.”

you crossed your arms and tried to hold your ground, but the heat in your face betrayed you. “whatever, you two are crazy.” you leaned back, trying to mask your flustered state, but deep down, a part of you knew they were right.

silence filled the air when you thought...wait... let’s make this fun. you leaned in closer, deciding it was your turn to stir things up.

“so, who’s the better flirt?” you asked, your voice dripping with playful confidence as you shot them a daring smirk.

heesung didn’t miss a beat. “you, obviously,” he replied with a matching grin, his quick answer making you sit a little taller.

you were about to feign modesty when jake jumped in, completely unfiltered. “oh, that’s not even a debate. you’re smooth, like dangerously smooth. it’s effortless—sensual, even. jay, though? he looks like a mix of a horny teenager and some creepy old dude who’s trying way too hard.”

you couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped, your stomach aching as heesung nodded in agreement, both boys delighting in tearing down jay’s flirting game.

“so, you’d fall for it?” you pressed, leaning into the teasing, letting your voice drop just enough to make them squirm.

their reaction was immediate—eyes wide, sharing a glance, before jake cleared his throat awkwardly. “i mean… yeah. probably any guy would… shit even girls,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

you turned to heesung, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, well? he scratched the back of his neck, looking at everything but you. “yeah, same,” he mumbled. then, with a nervous chuckle, he added, “but don’t let jay hear that. he’d kill us, and honestly? i’d rather not go out like that.”

you giggled at their flustered answers, but you weren’t done just yet. a wicked thought crossed your mind. you leaned back against the couch, sighing dramatically, letting your body arch slightly, chest subtly pushing forward.

oh, so now they go quiet, huh? you thought to yourself, biting back a smirk.

you shifted back into your normal position, glancing at the two of them. for the first time tonight, they weren’t shooting off quick remarks or teasing you back. instead, they were trying way too hard to act like they were fascinated by the crowd around them, clearly avoiding letting their eyes wander to how your dress hugged your figure just right.

“you guys are so boring,” you teased, breaking the silence with a pout. “maybe i should test my charm with you two to see if it really works,” you added, voice low and dripping with suggestion.

the way they stiffened was almost comical. they exchanged panicked glances, their nervous laughter giving them away immediately. jake cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. “nope, nope, nope. you’re jay’s future wife. we can’t be a part of this madness,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

you huffed dramatically, pretending to give in. “fine, i guess you’re right.” a pause hung in the air before you slyly added, “besides, i don’t think you could keep up with me anyway.”

jake’s jaw dropped, his expression a mix of offense and disbelief. “okay, now that was just uncalled for,” he protested, pointing a finger at you like he was scolding you.

you leaned in closer, locking eyes with him, your voice soft yet teasing. “you sure about that?”

“as if jay can,” he scoffed, laughing at his own joke. “but yeah, i’m sure. besides, like i said, you’re practically the future mother of his kids, and—”

“okay, that’s enough,” you cut him off quickly, unable to handle the forwardness of his words. “can we please stop talking about jay for one sec—”

heesung interrupted, grinning like he’d just uncovered some big secret. “guys, i think jay’s busy with his other future wife.”

you and jake froze, immediately following heesung’s gaze. sure enough, jay was leaning casually against a wall, unfazed as a girl who was far too enthusiastic leaned in closer, laughing and touching his arm a little too much for your liking.

“nah,” jake laughed, breaking the tension, “he looks mad uncomfortable"

“damn though, how does he get all the girls while i stay bitchless?” heesung muttered, still focused on jay and the overly eager girl practically draping herself over him.

jake chuckled, but you couldn’t resist poking at heesung. “i just gave you the opportunity of a lifetime, hee,” you teased, referring to your earlier playful flirting, as heesung remained captivated by the unfolding scene of jay and the mystery girl.

he finally tore his gaze away, smirking mischievously. “if jay gave me the green light, i wouldn’t even hesitate, gorgeous,” he shot back smoothly, his words bold and his tone dripping with confidence. he added a wink for good measure, which only made you laugh.

“heesung!” you exclaimed, your voice half-scolding, half-amused.

jake groaned, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “seriously, man? and no, jay would never allow it. neither would i.”

“a guy can dream, can’t he?” heesung shrugged nonchalantly, but the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious. when he noticed the way you and jake were looking at him, though, he quickly backtracked. “what? come on, guys, i’m joking!”

your gaze shifted back to jay, who was still caught in the same uncomfortable interaction. the girl was leaning far too close, her giggles annoyingly loud, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of jealousy in your chest. not that you’d ever admit it to them. instead, you waved it off casually.

“well, hope he has fun with her,” you said breezily, already trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. you weren’t about to let them notice the little twinge of irritation creeping in. besides, comparing his body language with you and her, jay truly was different with you. his smiles, his touches, his attention—it all felt more genuine when it was directed your way. that alone was enough to ease your nerves.

“are you crazy? go save your man!” jake urged, his voice insistent.

“he’ll be fine,” you replied, brushing it off with a casual shrug, though the sight of the girl inching closer made your stomach twist just a bit more.

a pause hung between you before heesung spoke up, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “you know... i heard from a very reliable source that jay likes it when a girl gets jealous...”

you raised an eyebrow, the skepticism clear on your face. “oh, does he now?”. it sounded out of character for jay. he was mature and grounded, the type of guy who would probably find possessiveness off-putting, or so you thought.

“seriously,” jake chimed in, nodding earnestly. “he thinks it’s hot when a girl gets territorial over him. like, it’s his thing or something.”

you hummed thoughtfully, swirling your drink. their sudden insistence felt suspicious, but you couldn’t deny the idea intrigued you.

“go,” heesung urged, motioning for you to stand up. his expression was equally playful and determined.

you sighed dramatically, leaning back against the couch as though the mere suggestion exhausted you. “what if i scare my number one hoe away?” you joked, your voice laced with sarcasm.

the boys burst into laughter but quickly recovered, their expressions shifting to something more earnest. jake shook his head. “nah, you’re good. he’s your hoe, and he knows it.”

their encouragement made you hesitate. part of you wanted to stand your ground, but the other part of you—the side that had been waiting for some kind of signal from jay—felt the push. maybe they were right. maybe this was the moment.

heesung, ever the instigator, leaned closer, his smirk teasing. “what, are you scared now? all that confidence earlier, and now you're pussying out?”

his words struck a nerve. without another thought, you grabbed your drink in one hand and reached for jay’s drink with the other, standing up with newfound purpose.

before heading off, you turned to them, narrowing your eyes in warning. “if this messes things up with jay because of your little scheme, we’re gonna have a serious problem.”

jake and heesung exchanged triumphant glances, their grins growing wide. “awh, so you do care about him,” jake teased softly, his voice dripping with adoration.

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips as you turned and made your way toward jay. behind you, the boys exchanged triumphant looks, dapping each other up and eagerly shifting in their seats to get the best view of the chaos they’d just unleashed.

if you were sober right now, this would’ve been much harder. but walking through this high-end club with liquid courage warming your veins made it feel almost too easy. heads turned as you passed, lingering stares trailing over your figure. the way people looked at you—like you were the only person in the room—only fueled your confidence. but your eyes were locked on one person: jay.

every step you took toward him felt like a small victory, closing the distance between you two. your heart pounded in anticipation, but you pushed the feeling aside, focusing on your goal. the world around you blurred, the dim lights, music, and whispers fading into the background.

jay noticed you before you reached him. his expression shifted from mild confusion to relief, and finally, a soft, welcoming smile. he seemed caught off guard by your determined stride, as if trying to piece together why you were heading straight for him.

when you stopped in front of him, his gaze locked onto yours, his dark eyes searching your face. without missing a beat, you offered him a warm smile and extended his drink—the one you’d deliberately taken earlier to sell the illusion. “babe, what took you so long?” you teased, your tone light but purposeful, laced with playful mischief.

jay blinked, taking the drink from you, his brows furrowing slightly. before he could question you, you slid your arm around his back, your fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt as you pulled yourself closer. leaning in, your lips pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. the simple act was sweet, innocent even, but the way your lips lingered for just a second longer than necessary made it impossible for him to dismiss.

he. was. stunned.

his body stiffened slightly under your touch, and as you leaned back, you caught the way his jaw subtly tensed, his lips parted in shock. the confident exterior jay always carried faltered, and the rare sight of him flustered filled you with a quiet satisfaction.

you turned your attention to the girl standing beside him, who had gone completely silent. she stared at you, her expression uncertain, her confidence visibly shaken. you extended your hand toward her, your movements poised and deliberate. “hi, i’m y/n,” you said smoothly, your tone polite but firm, like you were both introducing yourself and reminding her of your place beside jay.

the girl hesitated, glancing between you and jay before awkwardly shaking your hand. she mumbled her name in response, her voice lacking the boldness she’d shown just moments earlier.

you took a slow sip of your drink, studying her with a small smile. “oh, was i interrupting something?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, your tone feigning innocence but carrying an undercurrent of teasing.

before she could answer, jay’s voice cut in. “no, of course not,” he said firmly, his gaze flicking to you, his tone making it clear that your presence wasn’t unwelcome.

the girl, however, looked like she wanted to argue, her lips parting before snapping shut again. she fidgeted awkwardly before finally speaking. “oh, um, i guess i’ll see you around, jay,” she said, her tone quieter now, unsure.

you watched her turn to leave, noting the stiffness in her stride as she hurried back to her friends, who immediately erupted into cheers and claps. the scene was almost laughable, but your attention was drawn back to jay, who had relaxed against the wall. his signature smirk slowly returned, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“why’d you do all that?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, yet there was a hint of something deeper—curiosity, maybe even hope.

“what?” you replied, your voice casual as you leaned against the wall beside him. “you looked uncomfortable.”

jay chuckled softly, shaking his head. “bullshit,” he said, his smirk widening.

“oh, so you weren’t?” you shot back, your eyebrow raising in challenge.

his silence spoke volumes. his eyes, dark and focused, roamed your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your gaze again.

“were you jealous?” he asked finally, his voice dipping lower, the smirk never leaving his face.

your heart skipped a beat, but you refused to let him see how easily he got under your skin. instead, you rolled your eyes, a smirk of your own forming. “did you want her all over you like that?”

jay’s expression shifted slightly, the teasing glint in his eyes sharpening into something more serious, more deliberate. without warning, he pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between you in a single step.

his free hand found your waist, the warmth of his palm searing through the thin fabric of your dress. “so…” he murmured, his voice a mix of challenge and seduction. his fingers brushed against the curve of your hip, slow and deliberate. “you wouldn’t be jealous if i was this close to her?”

his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “if i touched her like this?” he continued, his hand sliding lower, his fingertips grazing the small of your back.

“if i kissed her?” his voice dropped further, his lips brushing your neck, the faintest, softest touch that sent a wave of heat flooding through you.

your breath hitched, your body betraying you as a sharp jolt of desire coiled low in your stomach. his scent surrounded you—woodsy, rich, and utterly intoxicating. your knees felt weak, and you gripped your drink tighter, the only thing keeping you steady.

jay pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning your face, waiting for your response. “hm?” he prompted, his tone daring, his smirk back in full force.

you swallowed hard, struggling to regain control. his presence was overwhelming, every inch of him drawing you closer, making it impossible to think straight. but you weren’t going to let him win so easily.

locking eyes with him, you returned his daring stare. “we both know who you’re taking home tonight,” you said, your voice low, steady, and full of confidence.

his eyebrow quirked, intrigued by your defiance. “that doesn’t answer my question, baby,” he murmured, the pet name rolling off his tongue with a smoothness that sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

you inhaled deeply, trying to steady your breathing. “i think you already know the answer,” you whispered.

“i want to hear you say it,” he demanded softly, his voice laced with authority.

you let out a shaky breath, your walls finally crumbling. “you make me crazy,” you admitted, the words barely audible.

his hand slid lower, his fingers teasing the curve of your ass as he leaned in closer. “is that so?” he whispered, his tone dripping with satisfaction.

but you weren’t done. your hand lifted, fingers trailing along his neck, down his chest, and lower, stopping just above his belt. gripping the leather lightly, you tugged him closer, your lips brushing his ear. “take me home and find out,” you murmured, your voice sultry and filled with promise.

jay’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenching slightly as his gaze dropped to your lips. for a moment, it felt like the world stopped, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

without another word, he pulled back, his phone already in his hand. “bet,” he said simply, his voice steady but his eyes still burning as he stepped around the corner to order a cab.

you leaned back against the wall, your heart racing, your skin still tingling from his touch. this was new—this was something neither of you could ignore. and as the anticipation bubbled in your chest, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing the night was far from over.

as jay disappeared around the corner to order the cab, you leaned back against the wall, attempting to steady your racing heart. his touch lingered like a trail of fire on your skin, and you couldn’t shake the way his voice—low, teasing, and possessive—had made you feel utterly weak. you took another sip of your drink, the coolness doing little to extinguish the heat that had spread through your body.

your gaze wandered, and it didn’t take long to find jake and heesung. they were still on the couch where you’d left them, and the moment your eyes met theirs, you regretted looking their way.

they were putting on a full-blown performance, clearly reenacting what little they’d witnessed of your interaction with jay.

jake had an arm slung dramatically around heesung’s shoulders, doing his best impression of your earlier actions. heesung batted his eyelashes, clutching an imaginary drink as he leaned into jake.

“oh, stop, i’m blushing!” heesung teased, pretending to giggle as he tilted his head like he was expecting a kiss on the cheek. jake leaned in with exaggerated slowness, and the two burst into laughter before they could even finish the mock kiss.

it didn’t end there. heesung suddenly straightened up, pulling an invisible belt like he’d seen you do with jay, his action dripping with playful exaggeration. jake let out a cackle, wheezing, barely able to contain himself.

their antics caught the attention of a few people around them, who were now glancing over and chuckling at their over-the-top performance.

you groaned inwardly, rolling your eyes. of course they’d turn what little they saw into something absurd. but as ridiculous as they were, you couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto your face.

jake was the first to notice you watching. his grin widened, and he immediately elbowed heesung, nodding in your direction. they both froze, their expressions turning comically innocent like they hadn’t just been clowning you moments earlier.

it didn’t last long. heesung gave you an exaggerated thumbs-up, his grin shameless.

“you’re welcome!” he yelled across the room, loud enough for you to hear clearly over the music.

you sighed, lifting your hand to flip them off with a slow, deliberate motion.

jake clutched his chest in offense, gasping dramatically, throwing himself against heesung like he’d been struck. heesung shook his head, laughing, clearly enjoying the moment far too much.

you rolled your eyes, unable to hold back the grin that tugged at your lips. no matter how much they teased, you knew they’d be cheering you on the whole way through. with one last amused glance at their ridiculous display, you turned your focus back to the moment ahead.

because as much as they enjoyed their antics, they didn’t know what had just transpired between you and jay. and judging by the fire still burning in your chest, you weren’t ready to share it with anyone just yet.

jay came back shortly after, his presence as confident as ever. “you ready?” he asked with a teasing smirk, his hand slipping effortlessly into yours. the simple gesture made your stomach flutter, but you masked it with a coy smile, letting him lead you back toward the couch.

as you approached, it was painfully obvious jake and heesung had been up to no good. they sat there pretending to have the world’s driest conversation about the “architectural integrity” of the club’s interior. their poorly hidden giggles betrayed them, and you could practically see the mischief radiating off them.

the moment their eyes landed on your intertwined hands, their mouths stretched into matching, shit-eating grins. they exchanged a quick look, clearly bursting with pride at their matchmaking success.

“we’re leaving,” jay announced nonchalantly, his tone cool and indifferent. “heading to y/n’s place.”

their grins widened, barely able to contain themselves.

“guysss,” jake whined dramatically, leaning forward with his chin in his hands. “don’t you wanna hang out with us a little longer? it’s been such a fun night.”

jay didn’t even blink. “don’t ask dumb questions,” he said flatly, leaving jake mock-offended as he clutched his chest and let out an exaggerated gasp.

“wow, okay, guess we’re just chopped liver now,” heesung chimed in, shaking his head as if deeply betrayed.

you giggled, amused at their dramatics, as you walked around the table to grab your purse. but before you could escape, the boys were on their feet, ready to send you off with one last round of chaos.

heesung clapped jay on the back and said goodbye with a knowing smirk, but it was jake who went in for the kill.

as you bent down to pick up your bag, jake leaned in close, his voice low and teasing. “be a good girl, yeah?”

you froze for half a second before whipping your head around to give him a sharp look. “jake,” you warned, your tone laced with disbelief.

he laughed, brushing it off like he hadn’t just said something that would replay in your mind for the rest of the night. before you could respond, he pulled you into a suffocating hug, swaying you side to side like an overly affectionate big brother.

“jake,” you groaned, your voice strained. “if you don’t let me go, i’m gonna throw up all over your ridiculously overpriced suit.”

he released you immediately, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “fine, fine,” he said with a grin. “but you owe me for being such a great friend.”

jay shook his head, amused, as he stepped forward to dap up jake. meanwhile, you turned to heesung, who was already smirking as he pulled you into a hug.

“do everything i’d do,” he muttered into your ear, his tone dripping with mischief.

you leaned back, raising an eyebrow. “hee, i think you’ve got that saying wrong.”

he shrugged, his grin widening. “nah, you heard me.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. their antics were relentless.

as you turned to leave, heesung suddenly called out, “wait, jay—one more thing!”

jay sighed, already looking annoyed, but walked back over to him anyway.

heesung waved him closer, gesturing like he had some urgent, life-changing information to share. jay leaned down, and in one swift motion, heesung slipped something into his hand.

jay straightened up and opened his palm to reveal an xxl condom. your jaw dropped, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

jay stared at the condom, then up at heesung, who was already grinning like a fool. jake was no better, nearly doubled over in silent laughter.

after a beat of silence, jay let out the most sarcastic laugh you’d ever heard, his expression deadpan as he raised his hand to dap up heesung.

heesung, thinking he’d succeeded in his prank, lifted his hand eagerly—only for jay to drop his own and toss the condom back at him with a straight face.

“you’re actually insane,” jay said, shaking his head in disbelief as he turned to grab your hand.

you couldn’t hold it in anymore, bursting into laughter as jay tried to pull you toward the exit.

“what, dude? we just don’t wanna be uncles yet!” jake called after you, his voice full of fake concern.

without missing a beat, you turned your head back to them and shouted, “don’t worry. i have my own!”

their laughter exploded as jay finally led you away, his own chuckle slipping out as he shook his head. your friends were a pain, but you couldn’t deny they’d played a part in making the night unforgettable.

stepping outside into the crisp night air, the chill brushed against your skin, but it wasn’t the cold that sent shivers down your spine. it was the situation. your mind, slightly hazy from the alcohol, began to clear as reality hit. this wasn’t just another playful night with jay. there was something electric about this moment—something that made your nerves buzz and your heart race. despite the countless teasing and bold words exchanged between you two, the idea of acting on them felt entirely new, thrilling, and terrifying.

jay noticed the goosebumps on your arms almost immediately. without hesitation, he slipped off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders. the weight of it, the lingering scent of his cologne, enveloped you, and your pulse quickened. it was a simple gesture, but the effect it had on you was anything but. little did he know the goosebumps weren’t from the cold—if anything, the alcohol had kept you warm—but from the thought of him, his touch, his presence.

“the cab’s going to be here in a couple of minutes,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night.

you nodded, leaning your back against the wrought iron fence in the dimly lit parking lot, your eyes trailing over him. jay looked impossibly handsome under the soft glow of the streetlights, his dark hair slightly tousled, his features sharp yet softened by the gentle lighting. you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you admired him openly.

“what?” he asked, his usual confident tone faltering slightly as your gaze lingered.

“nothing,” you replied with a grin, your voice light and teasing. “you’re just really handsome.”

he rolled his eyes, a soft laugh escaping him, but the faint blush dusting his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. “you’re impossible,” he murmured, though the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

he stepped closer, leaning his shoulder against the fence beside you. the proximity made your heart race, and when his eyes met yours again, the world seemed to slow down.

you shifted, turning your body fully to face him, the playful air between you giving way to something more vulnerable. “so,” you began, your voice softer now, “who was that girl really?”

jay raised an eyebrow, his smile growing wider. “so you were jealous.”

you quickly shook your head, though you couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped. “i wasn’t jealous. just curious,” you countered, though even you weren’t convinced by your own words.

he chuckled, his laugh warm and low, sending a shiver down your spine. “she was no one. honestly, she stopped me outside the bathroom and just started talking. i think her friends dared her or something—she kept glancing back at this group of girls, and they were all staring and giggling like maniacs.” he shook his head, laughing at the absurdity of it.

you snorted, the ridiculousness of the situation breaking through your earlier tension. “sounds like quite the encounter.”

his gaze shifted then, darkening slightly as his teasing tone faded. “but what about you?” he asked, his voice dropping. “why were jake and heesung being so flirty with you?”

you smirked, leaning in slightly. “now look who’s jealous.”

he scoffed, his hand brushing against yours as he closed the small gap between you. “of course i’m jealous. how could i not be?” his voice was lower now, his words deliberate and dripping with sincerity. “just look at you.”

you tilted your head, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “what can i say, jongseong? you’re one lucky man.”

his expression softened, his eyes scanning your face like he was memorizing every detail. “i am,” he admitted quietly. “you’re… unreal. like some angel who just fell out of the sky. i know it sounds cheesy, but… i’ve never felt like this before. not about anyone.”

his words hung in the air, their weight settling over you and making your chest tighten. you’d always known jay was smooth with words, but the raw honesty in his voice now was enough to leave you speechless.

“shit,” he muttered, his eyes dropping to your lips. he trailed off, but the way his body leaned into yours told you everything he didn’t say.

and then his lips were on yours, hot and insistent. the kiss was everything you’d imagined and more, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. you responded immediately, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

his hand found your waist, gripping it firmly as his other braced against the fence behind you. the feel of his body pressed against yours, the heat radiating off him, was intoxicating. every nerve in your body seemed to light up under his touch, and when his teeth grazed your lower lip, a quiet moan slipped from you.

the sound seemed to embolden him, but before either of you could take it further, a car honked nearby, pulling you both out of the moment. you turned to see a sleek black car pulling up to the curb, the driver glancing your way with an unreadable expression.

jay let out a soft laugh, his forehead resting against yours for a brief moment before he pulled back slightly. “cab’s here,” he said, his voice still husky.

he took your hand, guiding you toward the car and opening the door for you. you slid in, rolling your eyes playfully at his gentlemanly ways but secretly loving every second of it. he climbed in after you, settling beside you and reaching over to buckle your seatbelt before you could. the small, intimate gesture made your heart flutter, and you leaned back into the seat, trying to compose yourself.

as the car pulled away, the tension between you two was palpable. the driver’s presence kept things quiet, but you could feel jay’s thigh pressing against yours, his hand resting dangerously close to your own.

“uh,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly. “sorry if i was too forward back there. i—”

you cut him off with a quiet “shut up,” turning to him and pressing your lips to his once more.

jay stiffened briefly before relaxing, his hand finding its way to your thigh as you twisted to face him. the kiss deepened, your hands wandering over his chest, tracing the lines of his body. his fingers gripped your leg, sliding slightly upward, and your breath hitched at the contact.

you knew this was reckless, making out in the backseat of a cab with a stranger just feet away, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all the tension that had built between you two over the past months was finally spilling over, and you weren’t about to stop.

jay groaned softly when your teeth grazed his lower lip, and the sound sent another wave of heat through you. your lips left his, trailing kisses along his jaw and down his neck, and he leaned back slightly, giving you better access. you were just about to leave a mark when the car came to a sudden stop.

the abrupt halt had you both groaning in frustration, and jay pulled out his wallet, handing the driver a wad of cash—far more than necessary. probably his way of apologizing for the awkward atmosphere you two had just created.

the driver nodded, clearly unimpressed but grateful for the generous tip. you climbed out of the car, jay’s hand finding yours again as he led you toward the entrance of your apartment complex. neither of you spoke, the tension still crackling between you, and you knew the night was far from over.

you rushed into the building, gripping jay’s hand tightly, your heels echoing against the floor as you practically dragged him toward the elevator. his fingers intertwined with yours, his palm warm and firm, grounding you even as anticipation buzzed through your veins. the cool air from outside had barely faded from your skin, but the heat between you two was already rekindling, more intense with every step. jay trailed close behind, his free hand brushing lightly against the small of your back, the touch sending sparks up your spine.

as soon as the elevator doors slid open, you stepped inside, your focus solely on the buttons as you pressed the one for your floor. jay, however, was far more interested in you than the machinery. the moment the doors closed, he moved behind you, his hands slipping around your waist to pull you against him. the action was gentle yet possessive, his lips already brushing the side of your neck.

“couldn’t wait until we got upstairs?” you teased breathlessly, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.

jay chuckled lowly, his voice a soft growl in your ear. “not when you look like this.” his lips pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses from your jawline down to your shoulder. the heat of his breath and the softness of his lips left you shivering, though it had nothing to do with the air conditioning in the lift.

you let out a soft sigh, leaning your head back against his shoulder, your body molding itself against his. the faint scent of his cologne mingled with the lingering alcohol on his breath, a heady combination that made your thoughts blur. his hands began to roam, one slipping to rest on your hip while the other grazed the curve of your waist. each touch was slow and deliberate, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you.

your breathing hitched when you felt his arousal pressing against your lower back. jay’s movements grew bolder, his lips finding a particularly sensitive spot on your neck that made you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

you spun around to face him, breaking his trail of kisses. the look in his eyes—dark and filled with need—made your stomach twist in the best way. before he could say anything else, you grabbed his collar, pulling him down for a kiss. it was immediate and desperate, your mouths moving together as though you were starved for each other. your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging gently, and the low groan he let out only fueled the fire building inside you.

just as his hands slid lower, grazing the curve of your ass, the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal your floor. reluctantly, you pulled back, your lips swollen and your breathing heavy. jay didn’t let go of you, though, his hand finding yours again as he guided you out of the elevator.

his steps faltered slightly as he looked down the wrong hallway. “this way, right?” he asked, glancing at you with an innocent smile.

you rolled your eyes, tugging him gently in the opposite direction. “wrong way, loverboy,” you teased, your voice light despite the tension simmering between you.

he chuckled softly, following your lead, though he couldn’t resist letting his gaze wander. walking behind you, his eyes drifted to the sway of your hips, and before he could stop himself, his hand reached out to deliver a light slap to your ass. you turned your head to glare at him, though the amused smile tugging at your lips gave you away..

as you approached your apartment door, you let go of jay’s hand, fishing through your purse for your keys. your fingers fumbled slightly, whether from the alcohol, the adrenaline, or jay’s wandering hands, which had returned to your waist, sliding over your curves with deliberate slowness. his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, and you could feel his smile against your skin.

“be patient,” you teased, glancing over your shoulder to meet his heated gaze. “i’m not going anywhere.”

jay let out a low chuckle, but his hands betrayed his growing impatience, gripping your hips tighter. finally, you managed to retrieve the keys, unlocking the door with a satisfying click. before you could step inside, jay pushed the door open, his movements swift as he guided you in and closed it behind you. the door locked with a decisive snap, and just like that, the tension between you reignited.

his lips were on yours in an instant, the kiss messy and frantic. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just hard enough to draw a low growl from him, while his hands roamed freely, exploring every inch of you he could reach. you were drowning in him, lost in the heat of his touch and the intoxicating pull of his lips.

but just as your fingers found the buckle of his belt, jay abruptly pulled back, his hands falling to his sides as he stepped back slightly. the look on his face was one of hesitation, his brows furrowed as though he was wrestling with himself.

“are you okay?” you asked softly, your chest still heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

jay ran a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “i just… are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice quieter now. “we’re drunk… i just… i want our first time to be special.” his words were hesitant, uncharacteristically shy for someone usually so confident.

you blinked at him, his concerns sinking in. part of you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it—after all, you knew exactly what you wanted, and it was him. but the sincerity in his eyes stopped you. he wasn’t just stalling for the sake of it; he truly cared.

he hesitated again, looking away as if he were afraid of your reaction. “i just don’t want this to mess things up between us. i don’t want you to regret it in the morning.”

you sighed, slipping off his jacket and hanging it neatly on a hook before toeing off your heels. “if you think that’s best, then we don’t have to do anything,” you said, stepping closer and cupping his face in your hands. “i trust you, jay.”

but despite your calm words, frustration simmered beneath the surface. he had left you on the edge, your body practically vibrating with need, and now he wanted to stop? you couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at how ridiculous the situation was. still, you respected him too much to push.

jay bit his lip, his expression torn. “it’s not that i don’t want to,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “trust me, i’ve never wanted anything more. but…” he trailed off, his eyes darting to the floor before meeting yours again. his teasing smirk returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “how about we pick this up tomorrow? first thing in the morning?”

you raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed but choosing not to argue. instead, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “sure,” you murmured, though your tone betrayed your irritation.

you walked to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, trying to cool off in more ways than one. jay followed, leaning against the counter in silence. his jaw was tense, his eyes focused on some distant point as though deep in thought. it was clear he was second-guessing his decision, his discomfort only heightened by the obvious strain in his pants.

you smirked, an idea forming in your mind. setting your glass down, you leaned over the kitchen island, deliberately arching your back to give him a perfect view of your ass. the action snapped him out of his thoughts, his eyes darkening as they locked onto you.

“i’m going to take a shower,” you said casually, flipping your hair over your shoulder to expose your neck—the same neck he had been so eager to mark earlier.

jay’s lips parted as if to say something, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on you.

you started to walk away, throwing one last smirk over your shoulder. “goodnight, loverboy,” you teased.

“wait,” he called out, his voice strained.

you turned, feigning innocence. “yes?”

he hesitated, his fists clenching at his sides. “are you sure… we’re on the same page?”

you bit back a laugh, recognizing his internal struggle for what it was. stepping closer, you looked up at him, your lips curving into a sly smile. “sure,” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “but honestly? i think you’re all talk.”

the words hit their mark, his jaw tightening as his ego flared. “fuck you,” he hissed, before pulling you against him, his lips crashing down on yours once more. his hand found your jaw, tilting your head to the side as he resumed his assault on your neck, this time with more intensity.

you grinned in success. finally, nothing was standing in your way.

he captured your lips again, his hands firm yet gentle as he guided you backward until the couch pressed against the back of your knees. without breaking the kiss, jay’s fingers skillfully found the zipper of your dress, pulling it down in one smooth motion. the fabric fell from your shoulders, pooling at your feet to reveal the black lace lingerie you’d chosen earlier that night. he pulled away momentarily, his gaze sweeping over your figure with a mix of admiration and desire.

as he began trailing kisses back toward your lips, his mouth left a burning path along your skin—starting at your thighs, teasingly brushing against your clothed heat, moving to your stomach, breasts, collarbones, and finally back to your neck. each kiss was slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every inch of you. he unclasped your bra, sliding it off and tossing it carelessly to the floor before his eyes returned to your bare chest.

jay’s lips parted slightly, and for a moment, he just stared, taking in the sight of you completely exposed before him. a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. “you’re just too perfect, aren’t you?” he murmured, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing lightly over your sensitive peaks. “seriously, how the fuck did i get this lucky?”

his lips found your skin again, marking you as though he were leaving a map of his journey across your body. you rolled your eyes at his teasing, though a smirk of your own played on your lips.

“maybe i’m the lucky one,” you shot back, sliding your hands beneath his sweater and tugging it over his head, revealing his toned chest. the sight of his defined muscles had your pulse racing, but you didn’t let it distract you. with newfound determination, you moved to unbuckle his belt, picking up where you’d left off in the heat of the moment earlier. in one swift motion, you pulled his pants and boxers down together, his erection springing free.

the size of him caught you off guard, your eyes widening slightly as you connected the dots about the xxl condom heeseung had teased him about. jay noticed your reaction and let out a low chuckle, his confidence only growing. “looks like i wasn’t the only one talking a big game,” he teased, his smirk widening.

your gaze snapped back to his, a spark of determination flaring in your chest. you were going to prove him wrong. you sank to your knees in front of him, your fingers brushing against his thighs as you prepared to take him in your mouth, but before you could, he grabbed your waist, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back onto the couch.

“you first, princess,” he said, the nickname sending a shiver through you. he grinned at the way your body seemed to melt beneath his touch, leaning down to kiss your lips one more time before shifting lower.

his hands found the sides of your hips, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and sliding them down your legs. the cool air against your bare skin only heightened your anticipation as he tossed the fabric aside. his gaze lingered on your glistening core, and he let out a low groan.

“fuck, you’re flawless,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “and so fucking wet.”

“just for you, seongie,” you teased, the nickname making his head tilt slightly as he bit his lip. the effect it had on him was clear, and you took advantage of it, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling him closer. “don’t make me wait,” you whispered impatiently.

jay’s tongue traced a slow, deliberate line along your slit, and the sensation had your body trembling almost instantly. he smiled against you, the vibration of his amusement only adding to the intensity. his lips wrapped around your most sensitive spot, sucking gently before his tongue began working in circles. your back arched involuntarily, a string of soft moans spilling from your lips.

“jay,” you managed to mumble, though your voice was barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. hearing his name roll off your tongue so sweetly made him hum in response, the added stimulation pushing you closer to the edge.

the knot in your stomach tightened, your body reacting to every flick and stroke of his tongue. an idea sparked in your mind, and with a shaky breath, you tugged lightly at his hair, pulling him back just enough to speak. his face was glistening with your slick, his lips swollen and his pupils blown wide. he looked utterly wrecked—and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

“touch yourself,” you said breathlessly, your voice laced with both a command and a plea.

his lips curled into a smirk, but he didn’t hesitate. one hand disappeared between his legs as he dove back in, his tongue working you over with renewed vigor. the combination of his moans and yours filled the room, each sound pushing you both closer to your breaking points. your hips bucked against his face, seeking more, and he didn’t hold back, gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he devoured you.

the tension in your core finally snapped, and your release crashed over you in waves, your body trembling as you cried out his name. jay groaned against you, his movements slowing as he licked you clean, savoring every drop of your climax. his own hand stilled, though it was clear he was still achingly hard.

when he pulled back, his face was flushed, his lips parted as he caught his breath. his gaze locked onto yours, his eyes dark with unspoken need.

you reached out, brushing your fingers against his jaw. “my turn,” you murmured, a mischievous glint in your eye.

jay leaned back against the couch, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. a satisfied smirk played on his lips, a mixture of pride and disbelief settling in as he replayed the last few minutes in his mind. he couldn’t help but feel impressed with himself for holding it together as long as he had—especially considering how hard it was not to lose control the moment you kissed him in the cab. inwardly, he gave himself a silent pat on the back.

you, however, weren’t finished. sitting up on shaky legs, you closed the gap between you, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. it was messy and unrestrained, your tongue brushing against his as you tasted yourself on his lips. the act alone sent another wave of arousal through your body, and jay groaned into the kiss, his fingers grazing your jaw to pull you closer.

breaking the kiss, you slid down onto your knees in front of him. jay’s dark eyes followed you, his body tense with anticipation as his chest heaved. his gaze was heavy, and you could see the thin layer of sweat glistening on his skin. he leaned back into the couch, spreading his legs slightly to give you better access. the weight of his arousal was evident, his cock flushed and rigid, standing tall between his thighs.

you started slow, trailing light kisses along the inside of his thighs. his muscles twitched under your touch, and a low groan escaped his lips. your fingers wrapped around his length, stroking him gently as you worked your way closer. jay tilted his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as he let the sensation wash over him. but that wasn’t what you wanted. you wanted his attention—all of it.

you paused abruptly, releasing him from your grasp. his eyes snapped open, the confusion and slight panic evident as he looked down at you. “what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice husky and laced with concern.

you tilted your head, your tone firm but teasing as you commanded, “look at me.”

jay’s brows furrowed, and a soft, involuntary moan slipped from his lips. there was something about the dominance in your voice, the way you took control, that drove him wild. “yes, ma’am,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes locking with yours.

satisfied with his obedience, you resumed your teasing, your tongue flicking out to lick a slow line from the base of his shaft to the tip. your movements were deliberate, your eyes never leaving his as you circled the sensitive head with your tongue, tasting the salty bead of precum that had already formed. his breath hitched, and his hands clenched at his sides as he fought to keep himself grounded.

when you finally took him into your mouth, jay’s hand instinctively found its way to your hair. he gathered it into a ponytail, his grip firm yet careful, as though he were afraid of hurting you. you started slow, taking as much of him as you could manage, though his size made it a challenge. your cheeks hollowed as you sucked, and jay let out a deep groan, his hips shifting slightly.

“fuck,” he muttered, his voice strained as he tried to keep himself in check. but the sight of you on your knees, your lips wrapped around him, was too much. his resolve was crumbling, and he knew it.

each time you slid him deeper into your mouth, the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat, making you gag softly. jay noticed your struggle and let out a low chuckle, his voice tinged with both amusement and lust. “you’re doing so good, baby,” he praised, his hand gently guiding your movements as he pushed and pulled on your hair.

you used one hand to stroke the length you couldn’t take, your movements synchronized with the bobbing of your head. occasionally, you pulled back to catch your breath, your hand continuing to work him as you pressed kisses and sucked lightly along his length, teasing him further. jay was a mess, his lips parted as he panted, his head falling back against the couch. his other hand gripped the cushion tightly as he tried to keep himself together.

“let me hear you, jay,” you murmured, your voice soft but commanding. “don’t hold it back.”

his head snapped back up at your words, his dark eyes meeting yours as he finally let go. a string of deep, guttural moans poured from his lips, each one making your core tighten with need. the sounds of his pleasure were addictive, spurring you on as you sucked harder, your cheeks hollowing to intensify the sensation.

you quickened your pace, your hand and mouth working together seamlessly. jay’s grip on your hair tightened slightly, his hips bucking up involuntarily as he lost himself in the pleasure. “fuck, baby, i’m close,” he warned, his voice shaky and breathless.

with one final swirl of your tongue around his tip and a firm stroke of your hand, jay’s body tensed. his release came in hot, thick spurts down your throat, and you swallowed every drop without hesitation. his moans echoed through the room, raw and unrestrained, as his body shuddered from the intensity of his climax.

you pulled back slowly, licking your lips and catching any stray drops that had escaped. jay looked completely wrecked, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure. his head lolled back against the couch, and his eyes fluttered shut as a satisfied groan escaped his lips.

but you weren’t done. the ache between your legs was unbearable, and the sight of jay so undone only made it worse. your thighs pressed together instinctively, trying to find some relief, but it wasn’t enough.

jay opened his eyes, his gaze heavy with exhaustion but still laced with hunger. he noticed the way you were squirming, your need evident in the way you looked at him. a lazy smirk spread across his face. “looks like someone needs a little more attention,” he teased, his voice low and teasing. you bit your lip, your cheeks flushing slightly as you nodded.

jay reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek before trailing down your body. “then let me take care of you,” he murmured, his smirk shifting into a soft, genuine smile.

jay smirked at the match of energy you gave him, his hands resting on your hips as you slowly adjusted yourself in his lap to straddle him. your eyes locked, the unspoken tension in the air making your breaths heavier before you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was far more heated than the ones before. it was raw, passionate, and both of you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped into each other's mouths as you tasted the combined remnants of yourselves on each other’s tongues.

his hands traveled down your body, settling on your ass and squeezing firmly. the action made you gasp against his lips, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further. when he broke away, he trailed his lips back down to your chest, focusing his attention on your breasts once more, kissing, sucking, and lightly biting the sensitive flesh. sweet hums slipped from your lips as your fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him exactly where you wanted him.

you started grinding against him slowly, your arousal evident as you rubbed yourself along his length, desperate for more. jay groaned into your skin, his hands moving to hold your hips firmly in place. one of his hands slid down between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and circling it softly, the touch sending jolts of electricity through your body.

you pulled his lips back to yours for another deep, messy kiss, the moan in your throat muffled as you whispered, “please, jay.”

he froze for a moment, your plea echoing in his mind. he didn’t even need you to beg, but hearing those words fall from your lips so willingly ignited something deep inside him. "fuck, princess," he murmured against your lips before leaning forward to reach for his pants, holding you steady with one hand so you wouldn’t fall back.

jay pulled out a condom from his pocket, his lips quirking into a grin. you laughed softly, tilting your head back. “how ironic,” you teased. “i was wondering why you didn’t take the ones from hee earlier. now i guess i know why.”

he laughed against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “you’re making me look crazy, like i planned this whole thing from the start.”

you bit your lip, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. “you didn’t?” you asked, feigning offense.

“it spawned in my pocket, okay? end of topic,” he quipped, his grin wide. “now kiss me and forget we even had this conversation.”

you shook your head, laughing, but complied, leaning in to kiss him deeply as he fumbled to open the condom behind your back. once it was ready, he leaned back slightly, rolling it on before meeting your gaze.

placing your hands on his shoulders, you slowly lifted yourself, adjusting to align yourself with him. the anticipation built as you began to lower yourself, his tip stretching you inch by inch. you both groaned at the overwhelming sensation, your tightness making it difficult to take him in completely.

jay’s hand came up to stroke your head gently, his thumb brushing soothingly along your temple. “slow down, princess,” he murmured, his tone soft and reassuring. “i’m not going anywhere.”

his words sent a wave of calm through you, allowing you to relax and adjust. a small giggle escaped your lips, and jay smirked at the sound, pleased to see you loosening up. with a deep breath, you lowered yourself fully, gasping as he filled you completely. his hands settled back on your hips, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” he praised, his voice filled with genuine admiration. the way he said it, so sweet and sincere, made you lean forward and kiss him again, your lips pressing against his in a needy, desperate way. slowly, you began to move, grinding yourself up and down his length.

the initial sting of pain dissolved into pure pleasure as you found your rhythm, your hips rolling fluidly against him. jay met your movements halfway, his own hips snapping up to match your pace. his grip on your waist tightened as his other hand trailed up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple.

the sounds in the room were sinful—breathless moans, gasps, and the slick sound of your bodies meeting in perfect harmony. your brows furrowed, your lips parting as waves of pleasure rippled through you. jay cursed under his breath at the sight of you, his own restraint faltering as he felt his release creeping closer.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned, leaning forward to capture your lips once again. his lips trailed down your jawline to your neck, where he nipped and kissed, leaving faint marks behind. the added sensation made you tremble, and your movements quickened, your thighs burning as you chased your high.

jay’s fingers found your clit again, rubbing circles against it in time with your thrusts. the overwhelming pleasure sent you over the edge, a loud, broken moan escaping your lips as you came undone. jay wasn’t far behind, his grip on your hips tightening as he buried himself deep inside you, releasing with a guttural groan.

you collapsed against his chest, both of you struggling to catch your breath as you came down from the high. your foreheads rested together, your sweaty skin sticking slightly as you shared soft, lazy kisses. the silence that followed was peaceful, filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing.

jay broke the quiet first, his voice soft and unsure. “be my girlfriend?”

you laughed lightly, lifting your head to look at him. “you should’ve asked that before we had sex,” you teased, your tone playful.

jay’s face lit up with laughter, his deep chuckles shaking both of your bodies. “okay, fair,” he admitted, nodding. “may i be your boyfriend, then?” he asked again, this time with a slight pout that made your heart flutter.

you smirked, pretending to think it over. “you’re getting closer…”

he tilted his head, pretending to be deep in thought before blurting out, “be my wife.”

you laughed, poking his chest. “that’s a little forward, don’t you think?” you teased. then, softening, you added, “but… yes.”

jay’s eyes lit up, and he pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hands cradling your face as he grinned against your lips. the moment was interrupted by the sharp sound of a phone ringing. jay groaned in frustration, leaning back to grab his phone from where it had fallen in his pants.

when he checked the screen, both of your eyes locked on the caller ID. “cupids' worst minion?” you giggled, amused at the nickname.

jay sighed. “jake,” he muttered, earning a laugh from you. “he’s the worst at giving advice... but i guess it worked out. might have to rethink that nickname later.”

he answered the call, putting it on speaker. “oh, god, jay, you picked up?” jake’s voice came through, laced with panic. “i don’t know if that’s a good sign.”

you giggled as jay rolled his eyes. in the background, you could hear faint laughter and the unmistakable voices of the rest of the group. “ayo, you busy right now?” jungwon’s voice cut through, and you both exchanged amused looks.

“kinda, yeah,” jay replied, smirking at you.

“okay, i’ll be quick,” jungwon said hurriedly. “how’s it going with your future wife? hee and jake told us everything—details and all—and i’m losing it. give us an update!”

both you and jay burst into laughter, the sound making the other line fall silent. jay smirked at the phone. “yeah, we’re locked in,” he said confidently.

silence followed for a beat before the loudest cheering erupted from the other end. you and jay laughed along with them, the sound of your shared joy filling the room.

[thursdayinspace]

I started writing porn during my work breaks to torture my friends (as you do) and sometimes it turns into feelings, so whatever, I'll drop this here. Possibly part of a WIP now because isn't everything these days? (My poor WIP folder.)

They spent so much time apart, first because he was dead, then because he distanced himself from her after coming back, and then because he was in hiding. Now that they’re back together, they can’t stop kissing, they can’t stop touching. They’re always connected, holding hands, standing with their sides pressed together, small pecks hello or goodbye turning into long, hungry kisses, hands clawing at each other to get closer, closer, always closer.

At night they fall asleep with their legs tangled, her head on his chest, or him spooned up behind her; they fit together so perfectly. Words are still difficult. So much has happened. He feels endless guilt for leaving her alone, leaving her to deal with the fallout of their decisions all on her own. She feels guilt heavy in her heart for giving up their son, for depriving him of his chance to be a father, she feels like the destroyer of their little family.

Touch comes easier to them and they tell each other what they can’t say through letting their bodies speak for them. It’s hard and rough some nights, pure desperation, don’t ever leave me again because I’d die, mark me, make me yours, ruin me for anyone else. Most nights it’s unbearably slow and tender, laced with a melancholy sadness mixed with tentative hope growing in the shadows that hold both danger and promise. It’s apology and affirmation, I’m sorry, I love you, here’s my heart for you to keep, it’s always been yours and always will be.

She opens her legs for him and he pushes into her slowly, coming home, covering her with his body as she holds him close. He doesn’t move, just kisses her, and she kisses back. This is what they need, connection, physical metaphor for everything language can’t yet express. When he starts rolling his hips it’s slow and shallow; they’re full of need, burning with desire for release, but every time they fall over that edge it means it’s over. Until next time. And they never take next times for granted anymore. Not after everything they’ve lost.

His forehead rests against hers as they breathe each other’s air, as her hands roam his back and he fucks her so gently, with such soul-deep devotion it brings tears to her eyes as she clenches around him, holding onto him so tightly with every part of her being.

They’re still unpracticed, they’d only just started when he was taken from her, they didn’t have a chance after he returned. But they’re learning, learning each other, learning this new language. The sounds that mean they need more, or less, or that it’s perfect.

She comes first, and he knows what to do, how to move to make it good for her, to keep her coming and coming until her moans turn into whimpers through that final crest before her body goes soft under him, and only then does he let himself go, spilling into her with a broken sound escaping his throat. It’s an ending and an oath, a beginning, a confirmation of continuity: them against the world, forever. In this moment, they’re a part of each other, their combined pleasure stronger and more meaningful than any marriage vow could ever be.

He stays inside her as long as he can and they part reluctantly, only to come back together later, always. There are no guarantees, but there are promises, there’s love. They’ll make it work.

[inmoonsblood]

lover : percy jackson

book percy jackson. unspecified godly parent!reader. takes place around two years post trials of apollo. both of them are in college. 815 words.

synopsis: "like hell! the only one who can get me away from you right now is my mom." ; ft; late night rain dancing, taylor swift playing, warm towels and a shit ton of kisses from your second favourite person in the whole wide world.

note: repost 1 from my old account! i love this fic so so much, but i need to heavily stress that this (and all my percy fics) are for book percy, (17-18 year old) i don't write for show percy as of now. an old fic written before the show came out, so please, be nice to me, directly reposted from @the-ink-of-roses incase you've read it before!

percy's hands slip around your waist, your back to his chest, as he picks you up and gently sways the two of you to the beat of 'love story' by taylor swift while he hums the lyrics under his breath.

he tugs you closer and presses a kiss to your cheek and jaw, resting his head on your shoulder later. you giggle when he does that, turning your head slightly to kiss his forehead.

the playlist probably ran out ages ago, now you two are staying afloat purely on the will of the spotify lords and their music choice, but as long as it's a song that either you or percy know, it works.

(anything works, to be honest, just as long as percy's here, behind you, holding you like you're the one thing he never wants to lose. as long as you have that, you know you've won. as long as percy jackson holds your hand and kisses your cheeks, gods, you'll take anything.)

new rome is fun, it keeps life interesting in a way that doesn't risk you, him and annabeth going out on quests--and annabeth having to mock throw up every time you two kiss even if you know she's just as terrified as you two.

swords and running from medusa's sisters (or medusa sometimes. yeah aunty em was NOT happy last time you met her, apparently she still remembered the store circus thing even if it was more than seven years ago) were replaced with chasing deadlines and seeing how many energy drinks you guys can stomach.

you're in new york right now, staying at sally's (when she learnt you were going to spend the holidays in new rome, she demanded her son get you home. no way in hell is estelle's favourite person going to stay alone for the holidays), and like the two very smart heroes of olympus you two are, you're out here dancing in the rain.

it's a little silly, yeah, but in your absolute defence, this started out as percy trying to teach you how to skateboard before the rain, and neither of you are going to let that ruin a date for you (by extension let zeus ruin another date for you, even if this isn't aimed at you--probably not aimed at you), so you two made the best of both worlds, thanking the gods the speaker piper got for you is waterproof. (in hindsight, percy is also waterproof, he just likes this better. despite the inevitable cold coming in soon for both of you).

with one last strike of thunder, the rain slowly dies down, leaving you and him in the park as the spotify lords finally give up on you two.

percy drops you suddenly and you have only two seconds to squeal in absolute surprise before you're turned around to face him this time. he's grinning at you with a look of absolute mischief--you're sure connor and travis had the exact same look before they shoved you into the pool last time you guys visited camp half blood. of course, percy was in there but something tells you that was their goal.

he looks so pretty you could cry.

and this pure boy, who smiles secretly to you, looks at you like you're the one at the centre of his universe, the one who holds your heart. this same boy has given you his, asking only for your love in return, something you're more than happy to give him.

before you can ask him what he's up to, percy suddenly shakes his hair, causing all the water to fly everywhere, including on you.

you almost yell in surprise but with a small chuckle bite back. doing the same, as both of you laugh while shaking your heads to have the water droplets go around everywhere.

it's probably a weird sight to watch--two teenagers, drenched in water, shaking their heads like there's no tomorrow while holding each other, but you don't really give four fucks.

once your head starts hurting, you stop and cup percy's face, getting him to stop as well. your other hand slides into his hair, messing it up further as the hand on his face guides him for a kiss.

he lifts you up again and twirls you--no doubt to get another laugh out of you--before setting you down.

percy doesn't let go of your hand either, not when you pick up your stuff and head to sally's (your current favourite person in the world), not while the two of you are lectured by her on colds coughs and fevers in this weather, not even when warm towels are given to the two of you.

not even when you two keep sneezing the next day to no one's surprise.

[senseandaccountability]

"I'm me again"

Yes well this is me getting a little sappy - again - about the spirits/demon thing as a metaphor for the human experience, must be Friday. 

(Yes, this is about Solas.)

Last night my Ingellvar was tending to the graves with Emmrich and she said “demons” and immediately corrected herself, because of course she meant spirits but people outside Nevarra so easily call them demons and Emmrich, one of the kindest and most insightful people in the entire DA verse, would of course never do that. Because he sees them all as spirits. Some of them may be twisted, embittered, furious and cruel but to him they are still, at heart, the same being as their more positive virtues. You are always you, as Solas tells Cole. 

Which is also what Solas argues for all of DAI.

Which is also what Solas personal quest actively shows us in DAI.

His friend, broken and twisted by the mages' bindings, dies a spirit of Wisdom, thanking him and telling him not to be sad. “I’m me again.”

Which is also a very strong theme in Solas entire arc. 

But it’s really not just Solas, or the elves. The eternal struggle of spirits is a reflection of the human soul and what it means to be human. What parts of you does the world let you cultivate, what parts are hidden and twisted in the dark, what virtues would you be remembered for if you died tomorrow? What sort of person have you become? What person could you be? DA is crammed with these themes.

Since the spirit reveal/confirmation, I’ve seen a lot of very detailed and very cool discussions about the specifics of spirit virtues and demon characteristics and that’s some good shit right there, but you can also be lazy like me and very much just read it as various aspects of human nature interacting with each other. We’re all so many things over our lifetime, to different people, in different contexts. We all carry such endless capacity for goodness and gentleness and we’re all so very capable of hurting each other.

In the codex entries we see Solas try over and over and over again to appeal to the better nature of the Evanuris. He is described as brilliant and wise, he is pulled out of the Fade specifically for his wisdom and he tries to get them to reflect that, to listen to his concerns, to use their powers differently. Why don’t you make creatures that can protect the People, he asks Ghilan’nain. Why do you need to push your power further, he asks Elgar’nan, the people are already submitting to your rule, why must you shackle them? War may have twisted him up already but there’s nothing he says that isn’t extremely valid and wise about the Evanuris’ approach to ruling.

But as we learn from the Spirit of Command in Crestwood in DAI, wisdom is considered a soft virtue in a world of war and hierarchy and his reasoning falls flat or gets interpreted as fear or insubordination. Unheard and undervalued, his wisdom grows sour and prideful. He isn’t wrong, he knows he isn't, and he will show them. You are not gods, I will make you see that you are not gods. I will humble you until you understand that I am right. 

This is a profoundly human experience.

The ancient elven empire ultimately falls to its own greed and hierarchies and lack of boundaries - all of which Solas pointed out, all of which he and his rebels opposed. But the Evanuris didn’t listen, they were caught in a power scheme where only individual power matters and everyone else becomes pawns. How ironic then that their empire falls to its own foolish pride and boundless cruelty against the Titans, the first children of the earth. They hurt themselves by hurting them. They wound the fabric that binds them all together. 

Solas as a character is an open, ongoing conflict between "spirit" and "demon" aspects, between light and dark, between identifying as a solitary creature or part of the whole. It’s never more visible than during the final act of DAV where he is at once Solas, standing with the Shadow Dragons against the blight. And also Fen’Harel, scheming to get there in the first place, treating people in his way like dehumanized pawns to reach his final destination, a goal that can be argued to be entirely tainted with pride at this point, a way to soothe his conscience and need to be right more than it’s a way to save the world. And he’s the Dread Wolf, physically embodying the struggle against the corrupt powers since he, unlike the Evanuris, doesn’t believe in binding creatures to fight his battles. It’s significant that while he fights alone, he cannot do it without help from Rook. Elgar’nan directs all of the blight at the Dread Wolf and it takes a sacrifice from the team to free him from its grasp. It’s a battle orchestrated by a god. 

And Solas, powerful as he may be, is not a god. 

That is why it’s so lovely to me that the ending isn’t just a matter between Solas and his conscience or between Solas and Rook or Solas and Lavellan. Because we are not single entities. We are not islands. That’s why we need each other, because we respond to each other, we affect each other, we abuse and love each other and we cannot really understand in which ways until we connect. We use each other to remind us of who we are, or who we could be. Every Benevolence needs a Wisdom, every Command needs a Compassion, every one of us needs someone else in some way, shape or form. We are not meant to be solitary. We all share Solas' deepest fear of dying alone. We all share Solas’ ongoing conflict with the better and worse parts of our nature. We all reflect each other. The ending brings in the past, the present and the person that knows Solas not as a god but as a person.

We are shattered fragments of a greater whole and it was, as Morrigan points out, Solas’s love for and loyalty to his people that set him on this course long ago. And he broke the world. He broke his people. He couldn’t save them, all the horrible things that he has done and he still couldn’t save them. Ultimately and emotionally to him, this isn’t about wisdom or pride or good or evil or any such dichotomy, this is about grief and regret and broken humanity.

That is why it’s so powerful to me that a romanced or friendly Lavellan is so kind to him in DAV. They approach him carefully, they kneel down beside him to make a connection, they are understanding and compassionate and it may not be what he deserves on some grand justice scale of things, but it is without question what he needs. Pride and regret and grief need compassion, hope and benevolence much more than it needs to be proven wrong or challenged, kindness breaks the cycle.

They reach out to him not the way one would reach out to a god, but to a person. Because that’s what Solas needs to be reminded of - his humanity. That’s what their love and friendship has always reminded him of, that's what the Inquisition taught him - that the world is worth caring about because broken as it may be, it is also full of people. 

And people matter. They might not matter to the Dread Wolf, but they have always mattered to Solas.

That's what the good ending represents.

"I'm me again." 

[rambles-on-dragon-age]

Solas also continually operates in small cells that can't be traced back to him and sent the freed slaves about their business. Why would he keep his slave army wrapped around himself at all times. That doesn't make sense. There's a banter where he explains to Sera how he works, after all. They're either freed and doing what they want or acting as his spies; we learned that much during Trespasser. He's not going to make them work for him and frankly he probably started working more and more alone and just using the information the spies give him. They still work for him in the Missing Collection and I think mentioned in Tevinter Nights that's part of how he's keeping tabs on the Inquisitor and friends. He sees some stuff in dreams but that's not the extent of everything he knows and how much stuff he's keeping track of. The point of them being spies is moot if you know who and where they are after all. :)

Now you're confusing "bad writing" for "suspension of belief so the story can continue" and "quality of life is important to move the game narrative forward". The Blight changing and acting different and being a tool of the Evanuris was a major plot point; they can't have characters shying away from it "for the realisms lol"

The Wardens say, repeatedly, that everyone is infected at different rates. Even if Rook & Co got "just a scratch" and were infected, they could reasonably survive that infection for weeks/months before Antoine and Evka went rogue and performed the Joining on them like they've been shown to do/offer to other people that are infected.

But that's not conducive to the story. Like @postcardsfromheapside said, the Inquisitor & Co mucked about in tons of red lyrium and yet never got infected nor affected. You know. Like basically everyone else was re: Cory's army and the people mining it. Would it have made story sense for the Quizzie and friends to fall to the lyrium before the end? No. So they aren't infected/affected by it.

Rook keeps fighting these huge dragons? Uh, yeah. Rook and Co. fights exactly ONE dragon that was blighted, realized they probably couldn't kill it and were lucky to hurt it, and then went out and hired a dragon killing specialist to help them with that dragon and its friend when it comes back. Quality of life team building won't lock you to needing Taash every time you fight a dragon, but they are considered side bosses for the most part that are completely optional.

As for Minrathous falling, yeah it's not the dragon that takes down the city. The Floating Attack Palace is focused on the dragon, it's the murderous nationalist death cult killing the leaders while they were distracted fighting the dragon, taking over the city, and routing out the Shadow Dragons and later the Threads as those are the people still standing against them. If Rook is distracting the dragon so the Murder Palace isn't focused on it, then the magisters could focus on the death cult knocking down their door instead. No one's invincible, especially when the Ventatori also have powerful blood mages. Their focus is split, they fall. Their focus not split, they could defend themselves.

And, again. Bellara acting hateful and distrustful would have been out of character for her. If you want a Mean Dalish Bellara instead of Sweet Veil Jumper Scientist Bellara, write one for yourself. She wasn't written badly, that scene was written exactly right for her character. You are trapped in the bubble with her, the only person that can take it down, and she knows it. You are in the palm of her hand. Also ? If you were going to kill her you could do so on sight. You'd still be trapped in fade bubble prison until you die one way or another. (And yeah, that look she gives you at first reeks of distrust until you tell her who sent you. :) You know her leader and didn't attack on sight. Not the behaviors of evil Tevinter mages or bad humans.)

You're looking at the previous games through years of nostalgia and with rose-colored glasses. All that "rich, cultural atmosphere" is similarly shallow in every single one of them if you don't take the time to delve into the extra content the game offers.

Frankly, it feels like 90% of our time is spent in fantasy Britain's mudhole because we've spent so much time in Ferelden and when we got to Kirkwall it's similarly shitty. There's even memes about how awful and dragging the Hinterlands is. That's not dense or rich, it's literally the same place over and over again. Are you confusing fantasy racism and oppression being rubbed into your face extensively for all that dense culture? Is that the dense culture you're missing? Is it the brief glimpses we get of the Deep Roads and Dalish elves? Is that the rich culture? (You know, the stuff we see again in Veilguard. We even get to explore TWO Dwarven areas! Not counting the Fade one. There's so much cool shit to explore in Veilguard I'm never going to get tired of looking around for more details.)

This is the exact same world, the exact same setting, and we're being shown all these places we've only ever heard of. They're no longer just a name in passing, they're real places and we can see them and their architecture and the types of people that live there and how the weather is different and how the people are different and their different styles of dress and different foods and EVERYTHING. It's that environmental storytelling thing the game does very well and it's SO COOL. The maps had to be more compact but they're absolutely jam packed with puzzles, people, visuals, codex entries, etc... You're calling it shallow because what, they didn't add 500 codex entries from past games rehashing the same exact things we've already done three times before? We've been there, done that, learned it, we're doing something new now!

I thought you missed the context and content in the game but I'm steadily realizing that maybe you just flagrantly ran past it at full speed with your fingers in your ears and screaming because you think hating on this game is cool at this point in time. Gods forbid you take anything from this game at all besides regurgitating the same tired complaints that showed you approached this game hating it and didn't bother giving it a chance because "It's not like the other games!!"

a really cool part about dragon age veilguard is the first scene where you meet bellara, especially if you're a shadowdragon mage and you have neve with you

so to set the scene: bellara, the dalish elf who's devoted her life to the conservation, discovery and protection of her people's lost and ancient history, meets two strangers, two tevinter mages, in sacred arlathan. They tell her, hey your gods are back in the world but also they suck and we gotta kill them, and instead of telling them "fuck off you vile enslaving shem, you defile this land with your presence" like most normal dalish, not only does she instantly believe them that her gods are bad for some reason, they're back among the people and need to be stopped, she also happily starts telling them all kinds of secrets and valuable knowledge about ancient elven magic and is even so kind to, without question, take them on a grand tour of this very historically important and sacred ruin in arlathan to find a truly priceless artifact, a one of a kind archive of ancient elven knowledge thought lost forever, because really, what could these unknown tevinter mages possible want with that!

...

are these writers smoking crack?? is that it? theyre smoking crack??

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 spoilers⚠️

i just saw someone say "vi put on a uniform for caitlyn but caitlyn never took hers off", even going as far as saying that caitvi shouldn't have ended up together bcuz they have the dynamic of "oppressor and oppressed". tell me you've never paid attention to a single thing caitlyn's done or said in either season without telling me😭😭 (this is my nth post abt this bcuz it pisses me off when ppl mischaracterize her so when you see underlined text, it's linked to a more detailed post)

are we forgetting when she traded her weapon, her gun, her only protection away for a shimmer/medication/potion thing w/ that fucked up undercity dude with the glasses (the one who became the first of the glorious evolution) for vi and hugged him as thanks?

when she saw ekko's commune, his tree, and validated ekko's feelings about piltover and enforcers but also told him the cycle of violence needs to be broken because the undercity needs healing - something ekko could understand even in his anger and hurt.

when she confronted her own parents abt how the government doesn't care about zaun and the situation there, and then took it straight to the council. when jayce, her literal childhood best friend and basically a brother to her, now a councilor, ASKED HER IF SHE KNOWS WHO MADE ONE OF JINX'S BOMBS AND SHE WENT "no, well, uh-" because vi held her hand. she asked him, in front of everyone, "what happened to you" when he suggested using hextech to invade zaun.

even when vi got sick of trying to change things through the council, caitlyn kept telling her there must be another way and they just needed to make a new plan. oil and water, vi said, and that she was stupid to think it would work, but caitlyn's response was, what about us? what about the actual people, not their value as representatives of a group, a stereotype, one of many indistinguishable units? we aren't oil and water.

ppl say she used to view zaunites as just "creeps, crooks and villains" and after seeing more from them through vi, she changed it to "innocent helpless victims", which obv is dehumanizing since you don't recognize a person's capability for both good and evil and only see them as a stereotype. but she's always recognized both kinds of people exist in the undercity and that being "good" or "bad" isn't that simple. ppl seem to be mad she didn't try and dismantle piltover's entire police force like that would be possible or a solution to zaun's problems. she has a strong moral compass and a sense of justice - innocents should be protected and criminals prosecuted, zaunites or topsiders. if you steal, you should go to jail. but when you come from the dark alleys of zaun and poverty and deprivation is all you know, you're way more likely to steal, and when enforcers are prejudiced against you, you're more likely to face excessive violence and maybe serve a longer sentence. and this is why she tells the council that there are good people down there, that there is rampant poverty, famine, a drug problem, etc. her focus is on the daily humanitarian struggles of the average people.

you guys will twist yourselves in knots to make excuses for jinx, justify her actions and forgive her for what she's done (when she literally, aside from murdering a bunch of people and destroying a fuckton of stuff because she was insane, unstable and uncontrollable, literally directly prevented zaun from getting sovereignty by blowing up the council) but you don't recognize caitlyn's entire change in character started when jinx tried to blow her up multiple times, kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, blew up the council killing her mother and then (this wasn't jinx but caitlyn doesn't know that) turned the councilor memorial statue reveal to a massacre. see: this very accurate post.

"caitlyn never took her uniform off" well maybe because she was scared of jinx, paranoid, angry, grieving her mother, seeking justice and buckling under the pressure of becoming head of house kiramman. perfectly normal reactions considering the circumstances. she even acknowledged to jayce how upsetting it was to realize this hate she harbored for jinx had started to undo a lot of the work she did towards understanding the undercity and zaunites better and seeking to help them. but i believe she thought jinx was a hazard to them too.

i have a whole other post diving into this, as well as why she wanted vi to "put on a uniform" (temporarily until they caught jinx, and not just bcuz she thought vi was "one of the good ones" but bcuz she wanted her close, under her protection and equipped w/ all resources and privileges available to piltover, not to mention ppl are seriously undermining the fact that vi played a role in that conflict too) and why she made the mistake of going too far in her pursuit of jinx - most notably becoming rougher and jailing people, poisoning the air as a battle tactic, endangering isha, hurting vi, assuming the commander position and pursuing jinx even harder. but this post isn't about that, it's about other ways in which she metaphorically took off her uniform, and even the way she wore it.

caitlyn wasn't happy as a commander, she wasn't going on a power trip, she didn't "become a dictator all too willingly" like ppl are saying. and yes, that doesn't mitigate the damage she did to zaun but she had clear goals she was pursuing, none of which involved harming innocents (but protecting them), and she even confronted ambessa when she thought her right hand was out of line, which caused tension between them. though blinded by a desire for revenge, she remained concerned with the undercity's state and realized ambessa was manipulating her, even saying something like "why is peace always a justification for violence?" to her. the cost of what she was doing was too much for her. all things considered, commander caitlyn wore her uniform in the best possible way.

and she took it off as soon as she saw what was on the line. vi's father turned monster would go berserk when injected by singed, innocents would be ripped to shreds, and he'd be captured and used as a weapon by ambessa (against the undercity or whomever). for all of these reasons, caitlyn betrayed ambessa. she double crossed her, and the way she acted it out matters, not just because vi, who she'd decked the last time she saw, called her "cupcake". but because it was the right fucking thing to do.

i have a separate post about caitlyn's implied guilt about the things she'd done, about her knowing she couldn't undo those mistakes. this is what made her so desparate to try to make up for them that she not only send the guards away so vi could free jinx (another brilliant analysis here), but it also resulted in the way she fought ambessa tooth and nail alongside mel - like she had a death wish. she, a sniper, sacrificed her eye so she could remove ambessa's talisman by cutting it free with the dagger she took out of her own side. and even in the very end, when she asks vi if she's still in this fight, it could be interpreted as the fight for zaun too since she gave sevika, a zaunite, an ally of jinx, her mother's councilor seat.

so don't fucking talk to me about how she "never took her uniform off" for vi, when she's done that so many times metaphorically (and their last scene is literally one of the very few in the entire show where she isn't wearing any insignia), and she's done it for zaun too. and maybe even more so than that - it's how she wore it that matters. what she did with her privilege and her power - her character and agency.

season two is at fault for mismanaging the piltover/zaun conflict and not focusing on it enough in its latter half, as well as also not showing any proper longer caitvi conversations that might've taken place, in favor of... glorious evolution alien robots??

[a1ecmcdowell]

alec mcdowell & transgenic!user - a million kisses ㅤ ┊ ㅤ (18+!)

i want someone to promise me a million kisses and more . . . or, he's your first everything; first, and second, and fifth, and tenth.

includes, MDNI. ㅤ explicit sexual content ㅤ (light ) breeding kink ㅤ unprotected p in v ㅤ first times! ㅤ fluffy smut ㅤ like genuinely sickly sweet ㅤ soft dom!alec ㅤ best friend!reader ㅤ dirty talk ㅤ talks you through it creampie (hate this word sm sorrY)

req by @foxylady493 hehe thank u for giving me an excuse to write ab rawdoggin alec mcdowell HAHA

word count: 6.2k and for what like genuinely.

★ ˚⋆

somewhere, in one of the books that joshua had stolen for you, with a well worn cover and soft pages, with faded ink painting the front cardstock, you'd read something that stuck with you. i want someone to promise me a million kisses.

it was one of those passing thoughts that embeds itself into your psyche, a physical thing lodged between the folds of your brain, making itself evident every time you tried to forget it. a million kisses... and you'd never had one.

hell, you'd never even wanted to. you were everything manticore wanted you to be; loyal to the greatest extent, dedicated to your training, dominating the rest of the x5 series by a long shot — well, alongside your best friend alec.

alec, who really kept you motivated and on your toes, because he was so effortlessly good. he could sprint the entire forest on the grounds' base three times while you'd be on your second. he could pick you up with ease, and often did, urging you to work on your strength that little bit more so that you could do the same to him.

he was lifting you with one arm, actually, when you'd both been called back to your cells abruptly. it was awkward, in a way, moreso than it would have been for any normal human being, because of how unfamiliar you were with awkward situations. having to be sat down so you could properly address the guard in front of you, the same one who'd just been watching the both of you try and lift each other like barbells?

it only managed to get worse, somehow, when you were both ushered into your cell, followed by one of the directors, a woman with short blonde hair and a fierce stare.

something about this felt like a punishment, or a bad omen. how could you know, then, what a turning point this was going to be for you? the both of you?

"stand down, 494, 490." her lips are quirked with knowledge she isn't sharing, her hands folded neatly behind her back. "no need for formalities. not... for this."

you know better than to say a word out of turn, and so does alec, but you feel his confusion radiating off of him, a mirror image of your own, in the way his shoulders tense back.

her lips curl higher, a tight lipped smile that looks almost sinister in the dull lighting of your cell. "you are both aware of the situation with our labs, i imagine," she continues, slowly, like she's waiting for one of you to piece it together. "all of our genetic data, up in flames, and no way to continue creating soldiers to uphold the legacy the two of you are sure to bring."

directors do not ever come in with compliments, especially so strong, without something up their sleeves. "unless..."

it's one word, but it hits you and alec like a wave. him first, as he draws in a sharp breath, and then you, your stoic expression faltering at once. unless they use their current x5s to make those soldiers.

"it's only natural to pair you two off, what with how... close, you've gotten, over these years." there was a shared trauma that rooted the two of you to each other. him, being a clone of x5-493, and you, of 491.

something was off in their coding, a mixture of genetics and dna that didn't mesh. people were tightlipped about 493 and the seemingly endless amount of death he left in his wake, but they were sure to remind you about 491, the only one who, seemingly, kept his head screwed on straight the rare times that it was.

i want someone to promise me a million kisses... did she feel the same way? did he manage a million before his life was taken? you couldn't help but wonder it, especially with how many times the words killer kisser were thrown in your face. maybe that was why you were so attached to the idea of being kissed. you were stuck on the outside of a secret, wondering how kisses could render a troubled man's mind silent for a little while.

you had zoned out without realizing, stuck in a past that didn't belong to you. "are we clear?" the woman asks, her eyes lingering particularly long on you.

your face flushes with shame. shame for not listening, for missing the entire purpose of this conversation because you'd been daydreaming about an obscene amount of kisses for one person to receive.

alec speaks up for you, saving you from a potential reprimand or punishment, as he often did. "all clear."

"good." her eyes stay on yours for a beat too long, like she's daring you to break, before she nods once. "you've got one hour."

and with that, she stalks out of the room, the guards waiting on either side of your open door stepping out of line to trail behind her. the door hisses shut, and then it's just you and alec. you should know why. if you'd listened—

"you could have been less obvious, you know," alec says with a scoff of laughter, as he breaks his straight-backed stance and crosses to your bed in the corner. he sinks down on it, strong enough that his weight bounces on the springy mattress, legs spread open as he made himself right at home.

you blink once, twice. "less obvious with what?"

"oh, i don't know," his lips twist in mock thought, before they tilt into a dazzling smile, "starin' off like you don't even know where you are."

"i was just—"

"not listening. yeah, established, nelly." alec's eyebrows raise in his amusement, strong arms folded nearly over his chest. "you're gonna be confused as hell when i start taking my clothes off, then."

you splutter, wordless sounds falling out in a flustered heap. "what?"

his head falls back in a fit of laughter, loud enough that it echoes off of the walls. "god, you really weren't listening!"

"just spit it out! what are you talking about?"

slowly, the smile tapers away, his laughter trails off, and you're just looking at each other. "gonna have to copulate, you and i."

your expression drops. any trace of amusement dissipates, a cold, icy feeling of dread flooding your veins. no. no. you couldn't. not with him. not when it would ruin—

a million kisses, a million kisses, a million kisses.

it always came back to that, didn't it? "no," you say aloud firmly, like your rejection can somehow reverse the fact that it has to happen. has to, because you would never betray a direct order. this was something being entrusted to you. "alec..."

"relax," he says, his hands up in surrender. "i'm not gonna just... force you to, nelly, c'mon." his hands fall into his lap again, a sigh leaving his mouth. "s'not easy for me either, this. i mean, you're my best friend."

was he suggesting that things would change once this started? that thought made your blood feel cold in your veins, ice crystallizing in the sinew, making your bones feel heavy and stiff.

"nelly." alec snaps his fingers, drawing your attention back to him and not the dread in your stomach. it always works, when he calls you the name he'd not-so-affectionately given you during training, once. negative nelly & smart alec. "c'mon, it's not— it's not gonna be that bad. kinda bruisin' my ego that you're this torn up about it."

you choke on a laugh, your fingers lifting to run through your hair. "shut up, alec."

"'shut up, alec,'" he mimics back at you, one corner of his mouth lifting higher in a softer grin. "has that ever worked, nell?"

you shake your head, in exasperation and answer, finally crossing the small expanse of the room to drop down onto the edge of your bed next to him. his thigh is pressed up against yours, a warm, familiar comfort when everything feels uncertain.

it's loaded now, this silence that falls between you. heavy like a weight and thick like fog. his eyes are on you —you can feel them, too— and it's jarring, how one direct order can flip an entire world on its axis.

you turn to meet those green eyes of his, and then alec's leaning in, suddenly, and it takes a blink for you to realize it. you startle, feeling hot and icy and flustered all at once. "i’ve never done this,” you blurt out, and how fucking embarrassing is that, confessing it like a sin? 

“in what world do you think i have?” alec shoots back, his eyebrows raising in punctuation to the question. “i’d rather it be with you than someone else.” 

your heart is racing uncomfortably quick, an unfamiliar flutter against your ribcage. “okay.” 

“yeah?” he asks, and his large hand lifts, too, to rest his warm palm on the side of your cheek. his fingertips graze behind your ear, tangling in your soft hair. “yeah, okay, nelly.” 

his thumb grazes gently over your cheekbone, like a final reassurance before you’re no longer dipping your toes into this idea but diving fully into its depths. his fingers on the back of your neck guide you toward him, until your breaths are mingling and getting to know each other. 

your lips meet. the world stops.

it makes sense, now, how 491 could leash 493 with nothing but the press of her lips. it also makes sense why she stayed, despite all of the warning signs he must have given off, if alec’s lips were any indicator of how ben’s were. 

the kiss is tentative at best, at first. he’s not coming any closer, and you’re sat ramrod straight on the bouncy mattress, and the only thing connecting you besides your mouths is the hand he keeps on your cheek. you imagine that this is how first kisses always feel; awkward and uncertain, as this new kind of trust builds itself from the ground up.

one kiss out of a million. how were you supposed to kiss anyone else, now, when this one felt so special?

he pulls back first, but his hand stays on your face, the other sneaking its way across the space between you and landing on yours in lap. 

“not so bad, was it?” alec asks, a reassuring smile gracing his face. his thumb returns the gentle strokes over your cheek, his eyes sweeping over the expression you wear. 

no, it wasn’t that bad. but your mind isn’t on the kiss but what’s supposed to come next. “how long are we supposed to… um…” 

you’d never been the shy type around alec, but suddenly now, it feels like every word is lodged tightly in your throat. suddenly, he feels like a stranger instead of your best friend, this territory unfamiliar and scary, in its own way. 

“until you’re pregnant,” he says easily — and of course it’s easy for him, he’s not the one that has to carry a genetically enhanced baby to term. “but—” 

“no,” you say, raising a hand to cut him off. “no, i heard you.” 

“but, we don’t have to start now, nelly,” he slows his words down, like delivering the blow more gently will somehow lessen the sting. “we don’t. it’s… it’s an order, yes, but you’re still my best friend, and i want you comfortable.”

that did reassure you. you’d have to commit to the orders given eventually, but for now? this was just… a prolonged break in the courtyard, where you could hang out without precaution. 

“kinda like this new development, though,” he adds, that wicked grin of his tugging up onto his mouth, as he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. you barely manage to squeak out the noise of surprise caught in your throat, before you’re settled in his lap. alec’s always been strong, but it’s so different, having him use that strength with you. “could get used to it.” 

“shut up,” you grumble half-heartedly.

 he grasps the collar of his shirt to drag you in. “order received.” and his mouth closes around yours once again; your second kiss of a million. 

★ ˚⋆

“stop it, that’s not—” you huff out a hard, frustrated breath, your fingers closing around alec’s wrist. “that’s not what where your hands are supposed to go.” 

alec had you sat comfortably in his lap again, after the day prior, you both learned that, despite the circumstances, it was a nice place to be. you were close enough that you could smack him if you had to, and clearly, you did. 

“s’not my fault that you’re being a tease,” he grumbles in your ear, his lips so close to the sensitive skin that shivers trail down your spine. “sittin’ all pretty in my lap, not letting me follow orders.” 

“oh, bite me,” you shoot back at him, your grip on alec’s wrist tightening as you yank it away from your ass. you can feel the heat of his skin even through the thick fabric of your camo cargos, and it’s completely distracting. 

his free hand’s finger comes up to jab you firmly in the sternum. “you won’t let me.” 

“i thought this was hard for you, too,” you argue, reaching up to grab his other hand now, the former still tightly in between your fingers. you knew the second you let it go, he’d not-so-subtly slide it right back down to your ass all over again, and where would you be? a rock — you — a hard place. 

alec snatches his hand back quickly before you can grab that one, his eyebrows bouncing once in his amusement. “trust me, nelly, it’s very hard.” 

you stare at him, unblinking for a long few seconds, before it clicks in your mind — and the feel of what was very hard presses against the core of you. your hand releases his, and you smack him once with the left, twice with the right. “alec!” 

alec cackles, head falling back with his laughter. his hand, always so much quicker than you, catches one wrist, and then the other, in his lithe fingers. his other arm snakes around your waist and there’s a blink before you’re suddenly flipped on your back.

on your back, and he’s hovered above you, your pinned wrist firmly above your head and pressed lightly into the mattress. “you’re getting soft on me,” he pants, settled in between your legs, knees nudging them further apart. “you used to beat my ass when we’d spar.” 

“you’re playing dirty.” 

“am not,” he huffs out like a petulant child, “you’re just not playing. too worried up in that head about all of the logistics here.” 

“aren’t you?” you ask him, and it’s genuine; how had 24 hours passed, and suddenly this was something he could just accept? you and him, engaging in things that best friends didn’t do. did they? “aren’t you afraid of…” your face reddens, your turn now to feel like a little kid. “doing it?” 

alec’s shoulders lift. “not when it’s with you.” 

he says it so genuinely that you know it’s true, the confidence of the words enough to take your breath away. 

you’d never thought of it like that. sure, it’s intimidating, breaching this gap of things you’d done and things you hadn’t, but… with him, surely it couldn’t be anywhere near as bad as you were thinking. 

“plus,” he adds as an afterthought, “we already agreed it wasn’t going to change a thing, didn’t we? s’just work.” 

just work. it didn’t feel like just work, but you were always reading too much into things, anyways. that’s why you and alec just worked. he was the laidback to your on edge.

you sigh. he’s getting to you. he’s unnaturally good at reading all of your fears written in your eyes and unpacking each of them, explaining them to you so they weren’t so scary anymore. “just tell me what to do. we can lie to the directors again, if we have to, if you just wanna… i dunno, chill out. could kiss again.” 

“alec.” 

“suggestion!” he raises his free hand in defense, before he lets it drop down to your thigh. “just a suggestion.” 

it was a good suggestion, too. unfortunately for you, fortunately for him. you didn’t want to get too comfortable in these uncharted territories, out of fear it’d all get muddled and then where would you be? too uncomfortable to be friends, too familiar not to be. 

“kiss me.” your mouth moves before you’ve even realized the words are out, floating between the two of you like a declaration.

he moves his hand from your wrists and lets it fall in the open expanse of your neck. his fingers are cold this time, even though your blood is hot. “yeah?” it feels achingly familiar to the gentle way he’d said it the day prior. “alright.” 

“alright.” 

is it supposed to be this awkward? firsts were always awkward. this had to be normal. if you started to think about how maybe it wasn’t normal, and you were embarrassing yourself, and he was embarrassing himself, and everything was about to be ruined, you’d—

alec leans in again, but he doesn’t kiss you on the lips, like you expected. instead, his mouth finds your jaw, teeth grazing the skin lightly, lips pressing reverently on the bone as he sucks the little mouthful of skin between them. 

you gasp, your eyes fluttering closed, eyelashes as soft as butterfly wings on your cheekbone. “relax,” he breathes, hot breath on hot skin making you squirm beneath him, “i know what i’m doin’.” 

“oh, do you?” you smile, a bit dazed as his tongue traces along the line of your jaw until he reaches the space beneath your ear.

“mhm.” he leaves a trail of wet, warm kisses down the side of your neck, then back up your throat. “thought about this all night. know what i’m doin’.” 

oh. no wonder he’d been pretty accepting of their circumstances. alec spent all of night prior thinking about you, and how he’d pick you apart. 

the thought makes another shiver run down your spine, a warm pool in your lower stomach. “alec—” 

“here,” he interrupts, halting your train of thought before it delves again. “put your hand here,” he pants softly into your sensitive skin, his fingers finding yours and guiding them underneath the gray fabric of his shirt. you feel every muscle on his abdomen, feel each flex beneath the cold touch of your fingers. “yeah, that’s it.” 

alec straightens up a little so that he can curl his own hands beneath his shirt, tugging it up and over his head. it falls in a heap at his feet, and he’s on you again a second later, his lips marking a wet trail of kisses up your throat. once he reaches your chin, he continues the onslaught, capturing your lips in a firm kiss. 

this one is different than the one the night prior. it’s more confident, sure of himself. his tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and in your surprised gasp, he tucks it between your lips. that part of the kiss is tentative, like enacting the things he’d thought about was more nerve wracking than he’d let on.

you smile. he drags his teeth across your puffed bottom lip. “oh, you like that?” he asks against the soft skin of your mouth, arrogance coating every one of his words. “mm, okay.” 

his hands run down your sides, hooking beneath your shirt and bunching it up in his fists. “this okay?” he asks, lifting his head enough to search your eyes.

you nod, taken aback, almost, by the flood of black overtaking his irises. “it’s okay.” 

his grin is mesmerizing. had he always been so attractive? had he always looked like something sculpted and molded, just for you, and you’d only just noticed? “okay,” he echoes, and he nudges your extended arm with his elbow, “lift your arms for me.” 

neither of you really know what you’re doing, but he has a little bit of an upperhand, what with the fantasies he’d created in his head. 

“what all did you think about?” you ask him, tracing your eyes over his face to keep from thinking about how he was undressing you, and you were slowly being beared to him fully.

alec’s eyebrows twitch, his eyes lifting from your bare skin up to yours again. “last night?” 

“yeah. i wanna know.” 

he shakes his head. “no, nelly,” he laughs under his breath, his heavy-lidded eyes raking over your body again. “m’not lettin’ you know. you’re shakin’ in your boots already.” 

“well, then what did you do? just lay in bed, thinkin’ about me?” you shoot back, your mouth dropping into a pout at the denial. 

alec’s lips quirk. “something like that.” 

“alec—” you’re cut off by his lips pressing to yours again. his fingers run reverently down your chest, his touch shuddery as they graze over your breasts. he groans, and the air in your lungs stutters hard in your chest. every thought is shattering to pieces before you can think them, focused instead on the feel of his hands on you in places that you didn’t think anyone would ever touch.

“i know you’re scared,” he mumbles in your mouth, his hand drifting lower, slowly but steadier than before. “so i want you in control. in case—” his touch comes to a stop at the buttons on your camo cargos. alec pauses like he’s dazed, clearing his throat. “in case you want to stop. at any point.” 

he’s such an arrogant dickhead most of the time, one that you’ve come to adore in every possible way, but here? now? he’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met. 

“here, lift your hips for me,” his nimble fingers have already undone the button, before you’d even blinked, “good girl — see? m’so proud of you, baby.” 

baby. he’d never called you baby before. your smile is immediate, even as you feel like you’re being electrocuted with how your skin is buzzing. his knuckles light a fire down you as they brush lightly against your thighs, your calves. 

your hand lifts to rest under his chin, tilting his head up to look at you again. how many kisses is this now? you can’t even think, now, not as you drag him in for another kiss. five? six? not enough, is the simple answer.

alec entertains the kiss for a few seconds before he’s pulling back, even taking a step away. your body chills at the loss of his heat, and the self awareness of how you must look to him. mostly naked, sprawled backwards on your bed, looking up at him with big, wide eyes. you open your mouth to say something snarky to him, anything to quell the heavy silence, when he whispers, “you’re so damn beautiful, nelly.” 

he undoes the buttons on his pants quickly, shoving them down his muscular thighs and pooling at his ankles. it’s intimidating, staring into the eyes of someone who was your best friend through and through, while neither of you are wearing anything besides undergarments. 

this was the guy who’d talked you out of making any rash decisions after you’d had the insult of killer kisser thrown in your face, all because of the girl your dna was cloned from. who squeezed your hands and told you to fuckin’ ignore them. what do they know? who’d been a cell apart from you in your psyops isolation, making sure he wasn’t infected with whatever rotted ben’s mind into darkness, and you weren’t susceptible to falling into hi

alec steps around you to sink onto the mattress beside you, shifting backwards until his back hits the concrete wall, turning so that he’s facing straight forward. his hands pat his thighs, nodding his head in gesture — or maybe to get you to stop ogling him like he was someone new and not your alec.

“lookin’ at me like you don’t know me,” he mumbles, reaching out to snatch your elbow when you don’t move. it’s intimidating. sitting in his lap with so little separating the two of you? of course you were hesitating! “don’t be ridiculous. m’still the guy you pushed down the stairs five years ago.” 

“that,” you exhale shakily, as you sit down on his thighs, desperately trying to ignore the heat beneath you, and the heat between your legs, “was an accident.”

“bull.” he moves his hands to the clasps of your bra, undoing each hook individually, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “i saw how you looked at me before you did it.” 

you bristle, shoving him back by the shoulder until his back presses against the cool concrete. “like i’m looking at you now?” 

slowly, he tugs the straps of your bra down your arms, his grin faltering as his eyes drift downward at the same time. “yeah.” he clears his throat. clears it again. “yeah, like you’re lookin’ at me now.” 

your eyes follow his, and you suck in a slow, deep breath. somehow, the fucker had talked his way into taking your bra off without you even noticing. kept you distracted long enough to not fuss over it. 

how many kisses out of a million could one man give? you hoped all of them. you hoped more than a million. 

the silence is heavy but it’s less awkward now. most of the hard parts were over, and you’d already established there was no reason to be nervous, not with alec. never with alec.

“here,” he says, his voice still coming out rasped even through his attempts otherwise to quell it. “hips up again f’me… yeah, just like that.” alec’s fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down until they’re caught where you’re straddling him. “left leg up… perfect, baby, right one… perfect, baby. absolutely perfect.” 

the praise makes you feel hot. sure, he’d said things like this before, praising each of your actions when you’d done good at training, or came back from a mission successful. this is different. intimate. 

"keep 'em up real quick, alright?" he murmurs, shifting beneath you enough to lift his own hips up, hands pulling down his boxers over his thighs. his hand slips, giving way to the nervousness he had buried deep, as it slaps against your bare thigh. "my bad," he chuckles lowly, kicking them off with the foot closest to the bed's edge. his fingers curl around your leg, kneading at the soft flesh. "you've got me all messed up in my head."

"enough to hit me?" you tease, your smile returning again to your lips. "that's cruel, alec. you said you weren't playing dirty."

"m'not," alec insists, his thumb catching your chin and dragging you down into a kiss, and then another.

you laugh on his lips, trying to shake free from his grip. "are too."

he sits up, chasing your mouth when you start to pull away, swallowing your lips in an onslaught of kisses. "i can show you 'playing dirty'." his hands slide down your sides, fingers brushing your ass as they firmly grasp your thighs, flipping the both of you so that your back is against the mattress.

you're strong enough to flip him back. to tackle him onto the mattress, to wrestle like you used to do when you were younger, and things were easier. you don't.

alec settles between your legs, using his hold on your thighs to lift your hips and align your entrance with the cock you have not looked at, nope, it feels too real to—

your eyes fall anyways when his do, watching him line himself up. all of his nervousness is gone again, like he teeters between it, only ever seeming to get nervous when it comes to addressing you. what you are. what this means. 

“still okay?” at your nod, he nods too. “okay, sweet girl. let me just—” his hand comes between the both of you, grasping his cock between his fingers, as he pushes the thick head of it inside of you, his head falling back as your wetness coats it. “jeeeesus.” 

“what?” you ask breathlessly, shifting to rest on your palms, glancing from his face to where he’s pulling out of you.

alec shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face. “nothing. nothing at all.” he pushes in again, slowly, deliberately, this time keeping his cock inside of your tight walls. “just thinking about you. always thinking about you.” his free hand goes to your shoulder, pushing you lightly back on the bed. “you just lay back and relax, alright? get out of that head.” 

how were you supposed to get out of your head when now, the thing circling around in it is how he so casually declared that he was always—

it’s uncomfortable, as he fills you up. like something is wrong, doesn’t belong. you were definitely wet enough to take him, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of something being off that tingles up your spine. 

“fuck, you’re so damn tight,” he groans, his voice as rough as gravel. alec rubs soothing circles into your skin with his thumb, before he lets his hand fall down to one of yours, grasping it in his. “squeeze if you wanna stop.” 

even through the discomfort, you didn’t want to stop. not only had the gap already been bridged, but… you liked it. liked him. more than you ever would have realized on your own. the further he pushes into you, still in that achingly slow pace as he lets your pussy adjust to the feel of him inside of it, the easier that adjustment gets. 

your fingers play with his, tracing over his knuckles, as your breaths tumble out in soft little pants. everything feels like its at a boiling point, like it’s seconds from spilling over. 

“you asked why i wasn’t scared,” he says under his breath suddenly, eyes lifting to meet yours through the deep dark of his eyelashes, once he’s to the hilt deep inside of you, his pelvis pressed to yours in a sharing of blistering hot skin. “do you want to know why?” 

he finishes the sentence, and slowly pulls back until his cock rests halfway inside of your throbbing pussy. the movement makes you whimper in your throat, the sound of it rough already. his fingers clamp around yours in reassurance. “i’ve thought about this a lot. that’s why.” 

“liar,” you manage to rasp, a breathless moan of laughter punctuating the words, “y’don’t have to make me feel better anymore. i’m not scared.” 

“i always,” alec thrusts into you again, quicker this time, already pulling back out, keeping that slow, leisurely pace until he’s absolutely certain you’re alright with the next part of it all, “always want to make you feel better.” 

another thrust in, and something shifts this time. you can feel every inch, and suddenly, a tremor of ecstasy replaces the full discomfort. you gasp, and he surges forward to hover over you properly now, like that one little noise was enough reassurance for him. 

“always want to take care of you, always want to make sure you’re happy,” alec continues, soft grunts slipping between his ramblings, “hell, i’ve thought about putting a baby in you before. just not… in this setting.” 

the words shoot straight downwards, making your already aching pussy throb, clenching tightly around him. “i’m not gonna break, alec,” you say, forehead pressed to his. you dig your nails into the back of his hand, not squeezing it so he doesn’t stop, but urging him further. “stop acting like you’re gonna snap me in half. i’ve pushed you down the stairs before.” 

alec laughs, but it works. he pulls out further with each thrust, slams into you harder, burying himself deeply inside of your wet pussy. “yeah, you have.” the sound of skin slapping together starts to echo around the room with the change in his pace, interrupted only by his throaty groans and your soft moans and, god, isn’t it awkward that there are guards outside? that this is what they’re subjected to hear every day, until you’re—

“you wanted— a baby with me,” you say, not as a question, and through the deep haze your mind is slipping into. 

“wanted to do this. wanted to fuck a baby into you. see you full of me,” he answers, and it must get him going, the image he paints for the both of you, because he speeds up further, drives deeper, and you can feel the head of his cock pushing against your cervix, making you groan aloud into his skin. “only at night, when it was just me, and i wished you were there, keeping me company. any time else, i could pretend like it was fine.” 

you laugh softly, shaking your head, and then he’s laughing too. “fucked up, schoolboy-manticore crush, huh?” his head falls further into the crook of your neck, pressing gentle kisses to your collarbone. “only this place could get me daydreaming about filling this pussy up with my cum. could get me - wanting to fuck up our whole friendship, just to hear those pretty sounds of yours.” 

your face flushes at the filthy words, even as it only stirs your arousal further along. you can feel it in the base of your spine, and suddenly, by their own volition, your hips are pressing against his in tandem, meeting each of his thrusts inside of you. he groans, the sound hot and vibrating on the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“look at me, will ya, pretty thing?” he asks, nose nudging your chin up to meet his eyes. blackened pupils swallow up the jade green of his eyes. your lips part as the pleasure builds and builds, each of your noises crescendoing in pace with alec’s relentless thrusts. “god, nelly—” 

you tip your head up a little more, enough to catch his mouth in a warm kiss. “it’s okay,” you say against the soft pink of his lips; your turn to comfort him, even if that’s the last thing he probably needs. 

“yeah,” he mumbles on your mouth, stealing a fervent amount of quick kisses. it might as well be a million right then, with the way you can’t clear your head enough to count.”s’all okay. more than okay. always okay with you.” 

“you don’t even know—” you choke out, interrupted by the desperate moans falling from your lips, free hand coming to hold onto his side and keep him deep, deep, deep. “don’t even know what you’re saying,” you manage to laugh.

“no,” alec laughs too, letting go of your hand and moving it and his other one to hold onto your thighs again. “no i don’t. lift this one up for me, yeah?” 

you uncurl your bent knee and rest it across the length of his body, and the new angle only makes it that much more intense. “m’not gonna last much longer.” 

alec is a nervous laugher. he can’t seem to stop while he thrusts into you. your defense mechanism is panic, his is undiluted joy. you hope it never changes about him. “thank fuck.” he turns his head to press a soft kiss to your ankle. “‘ve been hanging on by a fuckin’ thread.” 

“seriously?” you cackle. “alec.” 

it’s sweet, really, how even when your entire dynamic flipped on its head, neither of you changed. just like you’d promised. you’re still laughing in the heat of the moment together, still teasing each other in every possible way you could. “told you ‘ve been thinkin’ about this,” he grumbles in his defense, the little pout on his flushed face only pulling you closer and closer into your release’s tight grips, “can’t even blame m—” 

“oh, fuck—” you can’t blame him, because you never gave him the time to pitch his argument fully, cutting him off. each breath you draw in is strained, in time with the pounding he’s giving to your clenching pussy. “oh, fuck, alec—” 

“hey, language, pretty thing, there’s—” one last thrust, harder than the others, his hips stuttering their movements as he pushes out a shaky exhale into your shoulder. your head falls back into the mattress, dug into the springs as you buck into him, his cock against your cervix as he spills his cum inside of you. the feel of him twitching inside of you, of the warmth seeping from your fluttering walls and warm down your spread legs, reducing you to a muddled mess of pleasure in his arms. unintelligible words on your tongue, pleads or his name or something, you don’t even know, don’t even know what you were trying to say. 

alec brushes his fingers across your forehead, pushing the sweaty hairs off of your skin. “was gonna tell you to watch your mouth, but i’m pretty sure you just swore me up and down in three different languages at once.” 

your limbs feel boneless, but you do manage to swat at his bare chest, heated skin on heated skin. “shut up.” 

“nah.” he scoops you into his arms, not yet having pulled out of you, as he cradles you to his chest. “we’re just gettin’ started, aren’t we?”

the answer is that one man can give a million kisses, and it doesn't take a lifetime — just a director's order and a dream.

tags, @jasvtsc @deanswidow @ostaramoon @angelblqde @depressionbarbie2023

@poughkeepsie99 @chi-raz @beausling @artyandink @figthoughts

[cosmiccrushes]

Drowning Lessons

Lucanis x Rook || 2.2k words

notes: this is in honor of the number of times I accidentally walked Rook off a cliff

also on ao3 :)

“Rook!” Her name ripped from his throat as his blade ripped through the chest of the Venatori in front of him. Lucanis caught the barest line of sight to her, just enough to watch another Venatori cultist land a boot to her stomach, pushing her off the ledge to the ocean below. 

Lucanis deftly raises his sword, blocking an attack. 

“Davrin! Rook!” 

The Grey Warden answers in confusion, sword poised to strike. “What about her?” 

“She went over the edge! Closest to you!” Lucanis brings his blade down through one Venatori just to have them replaced by another. An endless see of rats swarming over them.  

“And?” Davrin shouts back. 

Mierda. “The ocean! She can't swim!”

Davrin doesn't miss a step against the shield-bearing Venatori charging him. “You're kidding me?” 

Lucanis dispatches two more agents. “No!” And he was going to give her- and Viago- an earful about it after he fished her out. “Cover me!” He orders Davrin.

Davrin huffs out between swings of his sword. “I'm. A. Bit. Busy.” 

But Lucanis is already sidestepping two more cultists descending on him, launching himself in a blur of shadowy feathers off the ledge Rook fell from. 

He hits the water's edge, cutting smoothly and silently under before gliding gracefully to the surface, ever the assassin. It wasn't hard to locate Rook where she thrashed inefficiently against the current, her head bobbing under waves. She coughed on choking mouthfuls of seawater.

Lucanis broke into swift strokes in her direction, calling her name. He made it a mere three strokes away before she lost the battle with gravity and was dragged down.

Fear seized his heart, Spite growled in fury. Dive, the demon hissed. Lucanis didn't need to be told once. He dove in Rook’s direction. Propelling himself forward until her mane of curls floated before him. Her eyes were wide, panicked and she released a precious breath of air in surprise when she saw him. She clawed at her own chest as if she could find air to grasp onto and shove into her lungs. 

Lucanis wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her upwards with him. He felt the moment she gasped out a breath and went too lank in his arms.

Faster…not going to make it, Spite threatened. 

Lucanis pushed against the oppressive current until at last he broke through to air. Rook's hair floated in the water around them, her lips a disastrous shade of blue, her eyes closed. 

“Rook! Stay with me!” He swam to the shore, dragging her onto the sand, where she lay- all the lifelessness of his worst nightmares. 

She isn't breathing, Lucanis thinks frantically, trying to recall what he'd learned about resuscitations. He was used to stealing life, not restoring it. Do something! Spite demands.  

One calming breath for himself before he presses his lips to Rook's. Chest compressions between pleas- and threats- for her to breathe. 

The fates grant mercy when Rook finally coughs up water, turning onto her side to vomit up more. Lucanis pats her back. She wipes a hand across her mouth. Pushes wet, clinging coils of hair out of her face, before giving him a watery smile. 

“Thanks.” 

Lucanis hangs his head, a dry, haunted laugh dropping from his lips.

Mierda. 

A sound like a scoff from Spite. Perhaps he and the demon were finally in agreement about something. 

*** 

“You have to learn to swim, Rook.” 

Rook rolls her eyes. “It's not that big of a deal.” 

“Not that big of a deal?” Lucanis repeats in exasperation. “Rook, you nearly drowned! All because you failed to block one kick to the face.” 

“First of all,” she places her hands on her hips. “It was a kick to the stomach. That's a way bigger target to hit-” Now it's Lucanis’ turn to roll his eyes. “And second of all, I hate the water.” 

Lucanis fights back a second eye roll at her petulant tone. “Wouldn't you hate for it to be your death, then?” He'll attempt to coax her with the promise of dishonor and shame if that's what it takes. He's not going through that again. Hasn't stopped thinking about how the weight of her too-still body had felt against his.

Rook narrows her eyes in thought. “I guess that would be pretty unfortunate to have written at my grave.” 

Lucanis nods mutely. 

“But there's no time! I don't have time to learn how to swim when our allies need constant support and, oh yeah, my ancient elven gods are still trying to blight the world.” Lucanis can hear her frustration and fear, like a current bending her goals and priorities. 

“There is always time,” Lucanis says softly, “For keeping you alive.” 

The cynical armor she dons for protection falls away as she looks at him, her tone turning solemn. “Thank you for jumping in after me, Lucanis. I know I would've died if you hadn't.” 

“Never on my watch.” He vows. 

Rook smiles. “I was careless today, distracted. We can't afford that. It's just-” She rubs a hand against the back of her neck. “Seeing those Shadow Dragons, strung up and left there… It’s wrong. I chose to go to Treviso. I chose my city. And the Shadows paid the price.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. 

“We all make choices and we all get distracted sometimes. Especially when people we care about are hurting.” Lucanis says gently, knowing her mind is whirling with thoughts of Neve. 

She sighs. “Yes, and that distraction nearly cost me my life today. Death by drowning.” Her head shakes with her irritation. “Not even run through with a blade like a proper failed assassin.” She ponders a moment more. “Okay, Lucanis. I'll learn to swim.” 

Lucanis smiles in relief.

“If,” Her typical mischievous flare returns. “You agree to be the one who teaches me.” 

A wet, distinctly unclothed Rook flashes through his mind. He inclines his head in acquiescence. “It would be my pleasure.”

***

Lucanis waits for Rook by a canal near his family home. He and Illario used to come here as boys in the summertime. He must be smiling at the memory when Rook strolls up. 

“What are you grinning about?” 

“Just thinking of fond childhood memories.” 

“Hmm,” Rook muses. “What are those like?”

Lucanis wants to ask her more questions, desperate to soak up every ounce of information he can about her, but she's already moving past him, looking warily down the stony steps that descend into the water. Dampness clings to the stones. 

“So we just…walk into the water?” 

Lucanis grins, starting to unbutton his layers of protective clothing. “Yes. And then we swim. The steps go down into the water a couple feet before dropping off. It's quite deep,” he warns. 

She worries at her bottom lip, apparently coming to a silent agreement with herself as she nods once and begins disposing of her gear. Lucanis tries not to stare, but, well, as she sheds down to her light undergarments, it can’t be helped. It has never been lost on him that she is beautiful. He'd registered that as soon as he'd met her. But seeing her like this…no armor, no swords or gleaming daggers. Looking vulnerable and more intimate than Lucanis knew whether he could deal with. 

She drops a last dagger on top of the pile of her clothes, glancing up to catch him watching her. He doesn't look away and is pleased when her eyes sweep over his bare chest and her cheeks blush a rosy hue.

She clears her throat, heading down the steps. “Promise you won't let me drown?” 

“We have a contract. One much better served if you're alive.” He aims for a playful tone.

“You and your contracts,” she mutters. “I'll be taking one out on you if I don't make it out of this canal alive.” 

Lucanis laughs. “You might have to fight Viago for that particular deal.” 

She laughs too, looking back at him. Her smile is wide and wild. “I think you're probably right!” She seems gleeful at the prospect of fighting her house leader for a contract. 

“Okay so, what do I do?” She cautiously dips a toe in the water before easing her foot onto the frist submerged step. 

Lucanis steps around her and makes a rather showy move of diving head first into the water. Spite loves the theatrics too. When Lucanis surfaces, shaking wet hair out of his eyes, Rook is glaring at him with her arms crossed. 

“I am not doing that.” 

“Mierda, no! Sit down on the step, let's ease you in.”

She does as instructed, scooting down the steps until she's chest deep in water. She tilts her head back as though she can escape the gently lapping waves. 

“You know you're going to have to get your hair wet to do this properly?” 

“I'm not worried about my hair. I'm worried about my mouth.” She finally registers his teasing tone. “Oh shut up!”

She reaches out a palm to shove his shoulder where he treads water in front of her and he strikes. Grasping her wrist against his skin and pulling her off the final step. She yelps, clings onto his shoulders. His hand at her waist presses her to him. The water is cold, but her skin is warm from the sun.

She catches her breath, beats a fist against his chest. “Lucanis! You absolute demon! How could you! I could've been killed!”

He leans his head back and laughs, the sound echoing off the stone walls. He feels the lightest he's felt since leaving the Ossuary.

Rook pauses her tirade as she seems to realize what's happening. She gives him a final shove, sending him away from her as she takes a step back, rising so the tops of her shoulders peek above the water line. 

“You said it was deep!” She points an accusatory finger at him. “You liar!”

“I thought it would be better to discover it's not as bad as you feared.” 

She huffs. “I hate that you're right.” 

He wades closer to her. “First thing, we teach you how to float.”

***

“Rook, you have to stop fighting the water,” Lucanis coaxes, his hand under her back offering support. Everytime he tries to move it away so she can float on her own, panic grips her. Her lower half drops like a stone and she is left flailing. 

“I'm trying. It's rather hard to relax around something trying to kill you.” 

“I am here. Nothing will kill you.” 

She sighs. “Okay. I'm really going to try. Close my eyes and concentrate. You can't let go.”

Lucanis agrees. Her eyes flutter closed. Her hair halos around them. He traces the planes of her face, committing them to memory. She looks so peaceful. Lucanis feels a frightening certainty that he would kill any god asked of him to protect this. 

He feels her go weightless above his palm. The rise and fall of her breath comes steady and sure. He pulls his palm down into the water, just enough to completely break contact with her back. It sets off a chain reaction. Her eyes burst open, her arms spasming out to the sides. The force of her surprise knocks him away and her body folds under. He's after her in the same breath, hauling her back up. She splutters and coughs out water before launching herself at him. He expects a blow. He goes rigid with shock when her arms wrap around his neck and she buries her face against him. 

He's seen her face down countless demons and Venatori. Never has she sounded more scared than she does now. 

“You said you wouldn't let go! You promised! You have to keep your promises!” She sounds dangerously close to tears. 

Lucanis cradles her against him. One hand around her lower back lifting her up out of the water, the other at the base of her neck, tangled in her hair. 

“I'm sorry, mi amor. I'm sorry.” He soothes, not registering what he's just called her. 

Slowly her shuddering subsides and she loosens her grip enough to draw back and look at him. “Mi amor?” She asks quietly. 

He considers lying, claiming she misheard. In the end he says, “Si.” 

She studies him for a moment. Reaches up a tentative hand to cup his cheek. His own breath is far from steady and sure. 

“Then we keep our promises.” He feels like she might mean more than just their swimming lessons. That she might be thinking of the larger threat looming over them and their promises to face it together, to make it through.

”Crows keep their contracts.” Looking into the depths of her eyes, he thinks she might be one contract he never wants to complete. The thought terrifies him. A feeling like he’s trapped in the Ossuary, the walls cracking around him ready to bury him in a watery grave. 

He can fight gods for her. But himself? The demon locked within? How could he possibly protect her from that?

“I think that's enough swimming lessons for today.” 

She rolls her eyes “More like drowning lessons.”

Ah yes, drowning indeed. 

[nanenna]

I couldn't stop thinking about this despite having like 5gajillion wips, so have my humble submission. Be warned: lots of set up/narration. Also Bruce thinks a few times how grateful he is Barbara is currently "whole", this isn't meant to be ablist so much as him just being grateful she hasn't been injured by the Joker yet.

-------

Bruce woke up startled, chest heaving as he flailed around, disoriented. Where was he? When was he? What was the last thing he remembered? There were two sets of memories for that. He remembered having another fight with Dick after the end of a regular patrol before trudging up to bed. He also remembered years and years following that unremarkable patrol, an invasion, a battle, and fearing maybe this time he really was going to die.

He fumbled around until he found a lamp and turned it on. He was in his bed in the manor, in his own bedroom. There sitting on the nightstand, under the lamp he'd just turned on, was a phone on its charger. It was an older model. It was the newest model. It was both.

Bruce lunged for it, quickly turning it on to see the date and time. It was the past. Or it was the present and these new memories are the future. It was both.

Bruce let his head fall into his other hand, the one not holding the new/old phone. He was disoriented, he was confused, he was overwhelmed.

It was 4 o'clock in the goddamned morning.

Alfred couldn't make him contribute to the swear jar if he kept the swears internal.

No, focus. Focus on the present, what were his plans for the morning? Was it a school day? Did Alfred have plans? Fuck it, Bruce was calling all of them in sick, he needed to sort through all the memories he'd just had dumped on him and he… he needed to talk to his son. There was years of hurt he could prevent right now if he just swallowed his pride and TALKED to Dick.

Jason would be so proud of him.

Jason! Where was he right now? And Tim? Duke? Damian? Cass? Steph? Barbara would be home safe in her bed in her own home with Gordon, safe and whole. The others should be too, to varying degrees.

But Jason! And Cass!

Bruce practically flung himself from his bed, not even bothering with a robe before rushing into the hallway.

--------

It had taken both Dick and Alfred wrestling Bruce down to the kitchen to sit at the island and several cups of tea for Bruce to confusingly, haltingly stumble through his whole explanation. He kept having to backtrack to explain who the names he kept dropping were. It hurt to see that confusion and lack of recognition on their faces. It hurt seeing Alfred alive and well and so much younger, to see Dick be so very very young.

Eventually they decided to bring Barbara into it, knowing they would need her help.

Amazingly having to explain everything helped Bruce organize his racing thoughts. He even had the beginnings of a plan by the time he was winding down.

The first step was to confirm whether or not these sudden new memories were real. The easiest way was actually to go find his closest two sons: Tim and Jason.

Tim was easy enough, now that he and Dick knew he was following them on patrol he was rather easy to spot and even easier to convince the small, star struck boy back to the cave. It was no effort at all to get him to agree to move into the manor until his parents returned from their trip. Bruce would not make getting custody of Tim back easy for them.

Jason was a little more difficult. Willis and Catherine had both died and Jason had fallen into the cracks, completely vanished from the legal eye. They had to hunt through the streets of Park Row and Bruce winced with guilt all the while. Jason had been right, it wasn't fair of him to just give up on the entire neighborhood like he had. Bruce also knew he'd been right that it wouldn't be fair to the rest of Gotham for him to pour everything into Park Row and leave the rest of the city to rot. It was something he, Dick, and Barbara could plan together, because it was a lesson his future self had learned too late but Bruce was going to stand by: to actually work together you needed to communicate.

Once Jason had finally been found and brought home (safe! Safe and home where he belonged, where he had free access to all the food and books his little heart could desire) the next to get was Cass. Duke and Steph had loving homes, well Steph did once her father was behind bars and her mother being given a monthly stipend to support them. Bruce felt a little bad, knowing Cass was suffering and he'd waited until Jason was safe first, but Alfred and Dick had agreed this was for the best.

It took a great deal of searching, Cass had gone wandering far further than Jason ever had while homeless. It was all worth it when they finally found her and Bruce held out his hand, knowing she could read the love he had for his little girl in every line of his body.

Cass was home! Safe and loved and learning ASL alongside the rest of his children, already becoming fast friends with Barbara (whole and healthy still). It was finally time to bring home his baby.

--------

It may have been Batman that walked into Nanda Parbat but it was Bruce who confronted Talia.

“Beloved, what brings you here?” Talia greeted him with a wide smile and arms.

“I'm here for my son.”

A look of carefully cultivated surprise crossed her face. “How did you find out?”

“Last time you dropped him off at my doorstep when he was ten years old.”

“Ah, time travel then.”

“Of a sort,” Bruce agreed. “Frankly, I'm hurt you kept him from me for so long, I'm hurt you just left him behind without any warning too.”

“You have so many children now, one would think you have enough to keep you busy.” Talia turned away with a huff.

“I wasn't going to wait for them to find me this time when I can care for them now.” Bruce wasn't ashamed of loving his children, he planned on telling them so, often and loudly. “I also know what Ra's has planned for Damian, even if you don't. I won't stand by for him any more than I will the others.”

Talia stayed turned away from Bruce a moment longer, then turned back, her face carefully blank. “Just Damian?”

“All my children,” Bruce affirmed, unsure what exactly Talia meant.

Talia’s lips thinned, then she turned and started walking. Bruce followed, carefully keeping pace with her. She led him further into the compound, into the private living quarters used for the family of Ra’s. Eventually they entered a room, presumably Talia’s. She led him further into the room, where an attendant obediently bowed out of the way at their approach. The floor was covered in a plush rug and pillows, sitting in the center surrounded by clunky toys were two toddlers.

Bruce froze as he stared down at the two children in shock.

There were two.

Why were there two?

Both looked up as Talia approached, one with her glittering green eyes and one with shimmering blue.

Twins.

Damian had a twin.

Damian never told anyone he had a twin.

Talia had never told him he’d had another child.

Bruce’s mind raced as he furiously went through the foreign memories, though they had already started to fade. J’onn had warned him that was likely to happen, and he should let it lest the extra memories cause issues later. But right now he couldn’t help frantically sorting through them, trying to find some clue or reason.

“Damian you already know, and this is Daniel.”

“Twins,” Bruce found himself croaking out as he stared at the blue eyed boy in heartbroken grief. “In the other timeline Damian never mentioned a twin.”

Talia nodded, “And I did not either.”

“No.”

“Something must have happened to him, something awful. It was possibly the reason my other self brought Damian to you.”

When he first arrived had Damian been grieving his twin’s death? Had that been why he was so quick and steadfast in rejecting any sibling? Had every time someone called Tim or Dick or Jason his brother been another sprinkling of salt in a wound that was all too fresh?

Talia picked Daniel up and stepped over to Bruce. “Habibi this is your father.”

Bruce quickly pushed the cowl off and removed his gloves. There wasn’t much to be done for the rest of his armor, but he wanted his sons to be as comfortable as possible.

“We may never know what happened then, but if my other self thought Damian would only be safe with you then I trust her. And I trust you, my beloved.”

Bruce swallowed thickly as he took Daniel in his arms, holding the lost son he’d never known about. “I… thank you, Talia.”

Talia bent and picked Damian up, then handed him over as well. “Thank me by raising them well.”

“Come check on them,” Bruce blurted out. “You’re still their mother, I won’t prevent you from seeing them. Come visit, be a part of their lives, tell me I spoil them too much.” Bruce didn’t know what he was saying, that ship had long sailed. Or it had, in that other timeline that now wouldn’t ever happen, couldn’t after the changes that had already happened. He knew that other Bruce had been too in love with Selina and too bitter towards Talia to even consider this. But in the here and now…

“I will visit,” Talia said firmly, “but I will not stay.”

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you,” Bruce said, just repeating banal niceties at this point.

Talia smiled as she reached up to pull his cowl back on. “I must distract Father while you leave. Be well, Beloved, my darlings.” Talia leaned down to give each boy a single kiss on the head, ending with a kiss to Bruce’s cheek.

--------

Everyone had been shocked when he walked off the plane carrying two toddlers, but none more than Alfred, Barbara, and Dick. After getting everyone settled down and the twins in their new bedroom (thankfully they had enough things for two boys, thank heavens for Alfred overpreparing), the four of them convened in Bruce’s office where Alfred had brought them all tea and a few snacks.

“Twins,” Alfred asked once everyone had taken a seat and a cup.

Bruce huffed out a long sigh, “I had no idea. In the other timeline neither Damian nor Talia ever mentioned Daniel. Something happened, something awful.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, B,” Dick said seriously. “There was no way for you to know, and there’s no way to find out now.”

“You’re just going to hurt yourself if you keep trying to remember something that never happened and now never will,” Barbara added.

“Miss Barbara is correct,” Alfred said gently. “The important thing now is to ensure the boy’s continued health and safety. There’s no use in worrying about a timeline that you no longer have a connection to.”

Bruce nodded, he needed to let the memories go, he needed to be able to focus on the here and now. He’d written down as much as he could remember already, an edited down version given to the Justice League to consult though he felt it would become increasingly useless over time. Just by mending things with Dick and finding all his children he’d already changed things so drastically he doubted the memories would be useful for their family.

“Yes, you’re right, Daniel was a curve ball but he doesn’t really change the plan.” The next step: neutralize the Joker. There really were a variety of ways to make the man no longer a threat that didn’t kill him, and it was well past time Bruce chose one.

I have seen batfam fics and ideas where time traveling Bruce gets the kids earlier and stops all the bad things from happening to them. But I can't help but want to combine this with the DCXDP demon twins AU.

Imagine time traveler Bruce showing up at the league of assassins years early demanding his son... Only for two children to come out. Now he is forced to learn he had another son no one told him about. He has no clue what happened to Danny in the original timeline, only that it must have been bad for Damian to have never mentioned it.