#it really should not have taken me that long

[promptedwordsmith]

When you make their favourite meal

Caleb

The moment Caleb stepped through the door, the rich, savory scent of braised chicken wings filled the air, stopping him in his tracks. His sharp purple eyes flickered with curiosity before settling on you, standing in the kitchen with a proud yet slightly nervous smile. His gaze softened immediately.

“You made this?” he asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it from you.

You nodded, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel. “I know you’ve been busy, so I thought… well, you always cook for me. I wanted to return the favor.”

Caleb was quiet for a moment, taking it all in—the warm, homey smell, the sight of you standing there, the effort you’d put in just for him. A slow smile curved his lips, something rare and unguarded.

He stepped forward, slipping an arm around your waist as he pressed a slow kiss to your temple. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “I hope you made extra, because I’m eating all of it.”

The table was already set, and as soon as you placed the plate in front of him, Caleb wasted no time. He took the first bite, and the instant satisfaction in his expression made you grin. His usual composed demeanor cracked, revealing something far more open, more boyish—genuine delight.

“This is perfect,” he said between bites, barely pausing. “I mean it. The sauce, the seasoning—you got it all right.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You really like it?”

He glanced up at you, giving you a look that said, Are you seriously asking me that? He reached for another wing, effortlessly devouring it before shaking his head with a smirk.

“Like it?” He gestured to his nearly empty plate. “I love it. Is there more?”

You laughed, already reaching for the extra batch you had set aside. “You’re unbelievable.”

Caleb’s eyes gleamed as he accepted the second helping, his expression unreadable for a moment—until he spoke, his voice quieter this time. “You didn’t have to do this… but you did.” He met your gaze, his usual intensity softened by something else. “I like taking care of you. But it feels nice… being taken care of too.”

You squeezed his hand, and in that simple moment, Caleb understood—this was love, given back in the way he understood best.

Rafayel

The moment Rafayel stepped through the door, his nose twitched, and his eyes widened in delighted surprise. The scent of his favorite meal filled the air, rich and warm, something he hadn’t had in far too long. His usual languid grace disappeared in an instant—he was at your side within seconds, arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace.

"You made this for me?" he asked, voice muffled slightly against your shoulder. He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes bright with something almost childlike. "You really made this?"

You laughed, pressing a hand against his chest to push him toward the table. "Of course I did. Now sit down before it gets cold!"

He obeyed—mostly—but not without making a show of dragging his chair closer, his expression full of mischief as he picked up his fork. He scooped up a bite, inspecting it dramatically, as if he were a food critic about to judge a five-star meal.

The second it touched his tongue, his face twisted.

"Did you… mix the salt and sugar up again?" he asked, setting his fork down with an exaggerated frown.

Your heart dropped. "What?! No, I— I was so careful this time—!"

His lips twitched. A telltale smirk flickered at the edges of his mouth before fully blooming into his usual grin.

You gaped at him, realization dawning, and then slumped back against the counter in relief. "You’re awful!" you groaned, throwing a napkin at him.

Rafayel merely laughed, catching it mid-air, before promptly ignoring it in favor of shoveling another bite into his mouth—then another, and another, eating like he’d been starved for weeks. "It’s perfect," he admitted between bites, his words slightly muffled. "Seriously, I could eat this every day. You should make it again. Like, tomorrow. And the day after."

"You’re insufferable," you muttered, though warmth bloomed in your chest at his obvious delight.

He only grinned wider, reaching over to tug you down onto the chair beside him. "Maybe," he teased, bumping his knee against yours, "but I’m your problem."

You rolled your eyes, but as you watched him happily devour every bite, you couldn’t help but think—if he wanted this every day, you’d be more than happy to make it for him.

Sylus

Sylus doesn’t look up immediately when you enter his office, his focus still locked onto the documents in front of him. He’s been working for hours, lost in his endless calculations and strategies, barely acknowledging anything outside of his own mind. But when you set the tray down in front of him, the scent of the meal catches his attention. His crimson gaze flicks up, sharp as ever, and then his brow raises—not in judgment, but in surprise.

“You made this?” His voice is smooth, laced with intrigue.

You nod, feeling slightly self-conscious under the weight of his gaze. You could have ordered something, could have asked one of his many personal chefs to prepare his favorite meal, but instead, you went out of your way to make it yourself. The effort shows—not just in the careful arrangement of the dish, but in the tiny smear of sauce on your jaw, evidence of your time spent in the kitchen.

Sylus leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk, his eyes locked onto yours. Then, with slow, deliberate movements, he reaches out, taking your face in his hand. His fingers are cool against your warm skin, his grip firm yet careful. You freeze under his touch as his thumb brushes against your jawline, wiping away the stray bit of sauce.

And then, without breaking eye contact, he brings his thumb to his lips and licks it off.

Your breath catches. Heat floods your face, a reaction that only seems to amuse him further. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, deep and rich with satisfaction.

“How sweet,” he muses, tilting his head slightly, watching the way you squirm under his gaze. “You went through all this trouble for me?”

You swallow, trying to find your voice. “Of course.”

Something flickers in his expression—something unreadable, something softer beneath the usual arrogance. Without another word, he picks up the tray and sets his paperwork aside entirely, pushing it away as if it no longer matters.

He takes his first bite, savoring it, eyes flicking up to you once more. His smirk is subtle, but there’s a rare sincerity behind it.

"It’s good," he murmurs, voice laced with something softer, something real. "You have my full attention now, darling. Tell me—what else do I owe you for such a thoughtful gift?"

Xavier

When you arrive home after a busy day of shopping with Tara, the apartment feels unusually quiet. You make your way through the entryway, setting down your bags, and catch sight of Xavier asleep on the couch, his silver hair spread out messily across the cushion.

It’s rare for him to be so still, especially after such a long day, but he hasn’t stirred even when you entered. He’s usually alert—always on guard, always prepared—but today, he looks like he’s finally let himself rest. His chest rises and falls steadily, the soft sound of his breath filling the room.

You smile softly, your heart tugging at the sight. He’s worked so hard lately, his missions never-ending, always pushing himself past his limits. You’ve been wanting to do something nice for him—something small to show your appreciation for how much he does, for how much he means to you.

You quietly slip into the kitchen, putting your shopping bags aside, and start preparing his favorite meal. The scent of cooked food soon fills the air—the warmth of it feels comforting, almost like the home you’ve built together. The process feels like an act of love, each step taken with care.

When it’s ready, you pause and take a breath before returning to the living room. Xavier is still asleep, his expression serene. You walk over to him, crouching beside the couch and pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then another on his jaw, and one more on his forehead, each kiss soft, careful, trying to wake him without startling him.

His eyelids flutter, and soon, he blinks up at you with groggy blue eyes, trying to make sense of the moment. “Mmm…?” His voice is rough, and he yawns, reaching out with a half-smile that says more than words could.

You lean in and give him one last kiss before pulling away, quick and playful. He reaches for you, his arms still heavy with sleep, but you’re already standing, laughing as you help him up and gently push him to the table.

He sits down with a smile, his eyes still sleepy but grateful. You place the plate in front of him, and when he picks up his fork, he takes the first bite, savoring it as though it’s the most important meal of his life. His gaze lifts to meet yours, and his smile deepens.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice warm, eyes glimmering. “You’re so good to me, you know that?”

You smile back, heart swelling with affection as you sit beside him, happy to see him so content.

Zayne

The day had been longer than usual for Zayne. His normally composed demeanor had been tinged with a faint weariness, the weight of the long hours spent at the hospital starting to show in the slight furrow of his brow. You noticed it—how he seemed a little more quiet than usual, how he sighed a little more heavily when he sat down, how his eyes lingered a moment longer on the clock than on the charts in front of him.

You knew exactly what you had to do.

When you heard that his shift was nearing its end, you slipped into the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients for his favorite meal—a dish you knew would comfort him, a warm, homey meal he rarely had time to enjoy. The scent of simmering broth and spices filled the air as you worked, each movement deliberate, each step taken with the intent of giving him a small moment of respite.

By the time the meal was ready, the sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft orange glow over the city. You packed it carefully in containers, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you imagined his reaction.

You arrived at the hospital just as Zayne’s day was coming to a close. His office door was slightly ajar, and you knocked softly before stepping inside. He looked up in surprise, clearly caught off guard by your presence.

“Hey,” you said, your voice light, but there was warmth in it. “I brought you something.”

He blinked, his stoic expression softening as he stood up to meet you. “You didn’t have to,” he said, his usual calm demeanor laced with genuine surprise.

When you revealed the meal, his lips curved into a small but pleased smile, a chuckle escaping him. “Well, this is a first,” he teased, eyeing the carefully packed containers. “I wasn’t expecting you to bring me dinner at work.”

You laughed, feeling the tension in your chest ease. "I hope it’s as good as you remember," you said, waiting for his verdict.

He opened the containers, his eyes lighting up with the familiar sight of his favorite dish. “You even got it right,” he murmured, impressed. Then, his teasing nature returned as he looked at you with an exaggerated frown. “But no utensils?”

You hissed in realization, scrambling for something to use, but Zayne just chuckled. “It’s fine,” he said, reaching into one of his desk drawers and pulling out a pair of disposable chopsticks. “These will do just fine.”

He dug in, the first bite making him pause for a moment, savoring the taste. “This is... perfect,” he said between bites, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “Thank you.”

He offered you some of the meal, but you waved it off. “I already ate,” you said with a smile.

As he finished his meal, he stood and leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. “I really appreciate this,” he murmured, his voice filled with quiet sincerity. “I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, he was off, rushing once again to tend to a patient, but not before giving you one last glance—his eyes filled with a warmth that stayed long after he had left.

[raebiis]

I was thinking about this last night, so I’ll share the idea I had here:

Organized crime- not (explicitly) the mafia bc that’s just gauche. But their roots are the same. This is temporarily from the love interest’s POV, so I’ll refer to them as MC for now. Also, this was more meant to be a sort of ‘warning’ to the MC but they’re drawn in anyway- it gets much worse when romance is involved… tbh I just love a good toxic relationship.

The MC (who I personally imagined as Al Pacino’s Micheal Corleone- a little fanfic just for me- but to each their own) is witness to an argument between two sisters. One is the ‘leader’ and the other is… not ignorant, but also not completely informed.

The other is a recovering addict who relapsed and the leader found out about it. The leader confronts the other and there’s an ensuing argument/one sided screaming fest while the other cries and tries to shift blame.

She blames it on her longtime boyfriend (there’s history there).

It’s a mistake.

“Oh,” leader says, suddenly calm. And why does she look a little amused? “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” cries other, unable to recognize the danger through her tears.

“Are you absolutely positive that it’s his fault?” Leader clarifies. “And this is how you want this to go?”

“Yes,” other insists.

“Okay,” leader says, and leans in to press a kiss to others head, “then just rest here and I’ll take care of it.”

And other would know better, should know better, if not for the relief of leader no longer being upset with her.

It’s only when leader pulls a gun from the drawer next to her that other catches on. But it’s too late, leader has already silently ordered the goons to keep other there and out of the way.

Other is begging, pleading, but her words fall on deaf ears. Leader brushes past MC on her way out, and MC turns to watch her out of the window.

Other’s boyfriend is outside, having just exited the shed out back. He looks up at Leader and begins to smile before she raises the gun- his face hardly has time to shift in horror before-

!!!

Leader takes her time meandering back to the house, other’s wails can be heard all the way down to the lake at the bottom of the hill the house sits on.

When leader enters again, MC can feel their heart racing and they take a measured step back. But leader doesn’t even notice them.

She sets the gun aside and goes to her sister, gathering her in her arms and shushing her tears.

“It’s alright,” says leader, “don’t worry. I’ve taken care of the problem. You can start to really work on recovery, now.”

And other blubbers out something that sounds a lot like a confession to having lied. Her boyfriend was innocent?

Leader’s smile is unsettling when she pulls back and cradles her sister’s crying face (she already knew). “Don’t say that, other. Because if he wasn’t the source of the infection?”

Her thumbs press deeply into the hinge of her sister’s jaw, and her smile is long gone by now.

“That means I’ll just have to cut deeper.”

And other has a look on their face- understanding, despair, and the unconditional love of siblings forged in fire. Other knows to forgive leader is to invite more pain, but how could she not? Leader is her sister, and her sister has been by her side all these years. And her sister isn’t always terrible. Most of the time she’s kind, generous, gentle…. That’s gotta mean something. It has to make up for all the times leader is cruel.

Doesn’t it?

(And, of course, we see the same happen to MC. They’ve seen the warning signs, but leader at her best is just so charming and so loving- how could they ever not love her? Why, even in her most wicked moments leader is only expressing the depth of their unfathomable love. Leader hurts them to save them. Right?)

fucked up hurt/comfort. the person who stabbed you tends to your wound. the person who killed your loved one helps you grieve.

[natalievoncatte]

Alex rolled onto her side, and was a little surprised to see Kelly Olsen laying next to her, turned away and curled up the Egyptian cotton of her bed

(their bed)

snoozing softly in the morning light. Alex took the time, as one does, to admire the vulpine curves of Kelly’s back and the elegant sweep of her shoulders. She wanted nothing more but to lean in and plant a soft kiss on the back of her neck and wake her, which would hopefully lead into a glorious Saturday morning of sun-kissed, gentle lovemaking that would result in an forgotten breakfast and breathy declarations seared into hot skin with caressing fingers and tasting lips.

Unfortunately her fucking phone was going off.

Alex rolled out of bed and snatched it, relieved that she hadn’t disturbed her girlfriend. She threw on a button-down as a makeshift robe and plodded out into the kitchen.

She wasn’t expecting a call from…

“Lena?”

“Alex?”

“Yeah, what’s up? You don’t call me often.”

“I need help. It’s an emergency. Sort of.”

Alex glanced back at Kelly’s languid form and one long leg slipping out from under the sheets.

“Where’s Kara?”

“I can’t talk to Kara about this. It has to be you, Alex.”

“Okay, sure,” Alex said, warily. “We can grab a coffee later at-“

“Alex, it has to be now and at my place. This is serious.”

Alex bit her lip. There was a compelling urgency to Lena’s voice. Alex didn’t have Kara’s super senses but she could pick up the nervous energy and hint of feed behind the words.

“Okay,” said Alex. “I’m on my way.”

Alex pulled on her cleanest pants and most readily available tank top and scribbled a note for Kelly (encouraging her to either stay in or be back in bed by the time Alex returned, as their business was unfinished) and grabbed her car keys.

Rising her bike would have been… a sore subject, as it were.

Morning traffic was surprisingly light and she made good time. Lena buzzed her up and she walked into Lena’s weirdly cold penthouse, and found her sister’s best friend pacing rapidly back and forth, dressed in a hoodie and hugging herself.

“Okay,” said Alex. “I’m here, Lena. What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant,” Lena blurted out, before Alex had finished speaking.

Alex stared at her.

“Funny, I always thought you were a virgin.”

Lena glared at her. Alex knew why Kara was so fascinated by her- she had those big pretty eyes that radiated sadness and set off Kara’s protective instincts. Alex had figured out a long time ago that these two dipshits should just bang it out, but it wasn’t really her place to tell them, especially if it meant outing Lena, or dealing with Kara’s baggage from her weirdly fascist home planet and its bizarre ideas about sex.

(One example of said baggage being her sister’s heart breaking over the alien fuckboi from the asshole planet. If only Kara had realized that her gorgeous kind billionaire best friend was in love with her… you know, before the whole world domination Kryptonite laser thing)

(People who aim orbital fusion cannons at their friends should not cast stones, Alex had decided)

“Alex?”

Oh. Lena was talking. Alex pretty much blue screened there.

“Right, you’re pregnant. Are you sure?”

“I’ve taken two tests, and I’m late.”

Alex rubbed at her chin. Lena looked like a drowned rat, more than a little terrified.

Alex swallowed hard.

“Okay, first question. Did someone hurt you?”

Lena looked up sharply. “What? No.”

Standing to pace the room again, Lena rubbed at her arms as if she were cold.

“So um,” said Alex. “Do you need my help with…”

“I just need someone I can talk to that isn’t Kara. I can’t tell her yet.”

Alex swallowed. Hard. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

Lena sighed and stared out her balcony window.

“Do you remember that game night where we all got sloshed, last month?”

“Yeah,” said Alex. “You hosted. As I recall, Kara was the last to leave.

“She didn’t leave. I… I did something stupid. I tried to seduce her, clumsily. I was drunk off my ass.”

Alex tensed, the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

“Oh,” said Alex. “She brushed you off and you went out for a hookup? I’ve done worse. Are things okay between you?”

Lena stared at Alex as if she’d just grown a second head.

“No, Alex. Kara spent the night. She insisted we not do anything intimate until we both sobered up, but I talked her into staying in bed with me.”

Alex sighed. “You got any of that expensive single malt? Your dad’s brand?”

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

“Well, it’s not like you can drink it. You can have juice.”

Lena glared at her. “Cabinet by the fridge.”

Alex ended up pouring two glasses of cranberry juice and sat down at the kitchen island, pushing one over to Lena.

Lena sighed. “I don’t want to get into the details but we were definitely sober when we woke up.”

“And?” said Alex.

“We, um, we had sex,” said Lena.

“And then she got weird and brushed you off and you went out for a hookup?”

“What? No! Just let me finish telling the story.”

Alex sipped her juice, enjoying the bite on her tongue. “Okay.”

“We’ve been sort of seeing each other ever since. Quietly, keeping it to ourselves. Kara is…” Lena sighed, “she’s very protective and she’s afraid that you’ll get upset if you find out we’re together.”

Alex’s fist closed tightly around her glass.

“Lena,” Alex explained, “I’ve forgiven and forgotten a lot from you, but I’m having a hard time understanding how this happened if you’re with my sister. Did you cheat on her?”

Lena looked up sharply from her glass. “What the fuck, Alex? How could you even ask me that? God, am I ever going to be good enough for your sister? I know I fucked up. I know what I did was wrong. Hurting her was the worst thing I have ever done and I would trade anything to take it back, but we are in…”

“Okay,” Alex cut her off. “Fine. Our lives are fucking weird, so I’ll give you the benefit of tbe doubt. But usually you being pregnant would imply that a man was involved somehow.”

Lena blinked. “What?”

“You’re pregnant. There has to be a father.”

Lena stared at her in abject confusion.

Then she said, “Alex, Kara is the father.”

Alex looked at her for too long a moment.

“I’m sorry but what the fuck, Lena? What did you do?”

“What did I do?” Lena demanded. “It’s not my fault! I mean it is as much my fault as it is hers, but we weren’t worrying about protection the first morning and after that neither of us brought it up. I know, I’ve been stupid, I just…”

Alex’s mouth fell open.

“Protection? You and her? What the fuck?”

Lena took a long pull of cranberry juice and winced at the tartness.

“You didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Apparently, under a yellow sun, Kryptonians can, um, adapt to a sexual partner’s body.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Alex snapped, “okay fine my little sister… with you… and you’re pregnant. Fine, we’re on the same page. What now?”

Lena stared at her, biting her lip as she sought answers.

“Are you going to keep it?”

“Keep it?” said Lena. “It’s Kara’s. Of course I will. That’s not even a question. I’m just… I’m scared, Alex. What does this mean? How is she going to react? What if… Jesus, I’m carrying a half-Kryptonian baby. Is that even safe?”

“It worked out fine for Lois and Clark. Twice. You’ll be okay, if having the baby is what you want.”

“It is,” said Lena. “Kara makes me deliriously happy, Alex. She was like a knight in shining armor that night and she was so kind and gentle the next morning and it’s like… like this was natural. We both fell into it so easily that it was like it had always been this way. I love her. I love her so much.”

Lena was red faced, looking embarrassed as she cast her eyes down. Alex reached across the table and took her hands.

“Well, I’m glad you dipshits figured it out. Watching you two blush and stammer at each other for another five years would’ve killed me.”

“ALEX!”

“If you want my blessing, you have it. I’m sorry I doubted you, but in my defense, I didn’t know she could… do… that.”

“Uh, right,” said Lena. “I want to call her and ask her to come over now so I can tell her. I know this should be a private moment but… can you stay? It just feels like you belong here for this.”

“Yeah, Lena. I’ll stay.”

Lena smiled.

[daemonbrain]

a/n: Shamelessly inspired by the fact I hit a curb, ran a stop sign, and almost hit a mailbox within 5 minutes of each other. So I present to you Graves x reader who can't drive! Feel free to drop a comment 🫶

Phillip Graves who loves exactly three things: His shadows, his truck, and his girl.

The downside? He has to keep the three things as far from each other as possible.

He would be damned if he let his pretty girlfriend know about all the questionable things he did for work. All you needed to know was he handled things, brought home the bread, and came crawling right on back as soon as he could.

But as he sat in the passenger seat of his F-150, he knew damn well he'd tell you every shady dealing or national secret him and his shadows have ever learnt to get you the hell away from the wheel.

He thought it was a joke when you hopped into the drivers seat! You had booked a reservation for some sushi place you liked and he had taken a little too long to get ready, only hurrying down when he heard the yell of his name.

"I'm comin', i'm going!" He mumbled.

You stood ready by the door with a smile. You dangled his keys in front of your face and to be entirely honest Phill didn't pay attention to a word you said.

How could he? Your hair all done up, a nice pair of heels, and a dress he's never seen before but is sure that it's somewhere on his bank statement. Too much time staring at your moving mouth, not enough time on it.

Interrupting you mid-sentance, he pulls you in for a gentle kiss. When your hands went to caress the stubble on his cheek, he responded with a groan and a bite on your lower lip, feeling his heart beat with fondness for the lovely lady in front of him.

Pulling away only a fraction, you look up at him with those eyes he could never resist.

"Is that a yes then?" You said, excitement clear in your tone.

Leaning back in, he presses his mouth to yours again. After a moment he digs his fingers to your waist, causing you to swat at his arm.

"Earth to Phill?! Yes or no?" You repeated. Groaning, he rolled his eyes and reluctantly separated from your body.

"Whatever you want sweetheart."

Which is how he finds himself in this precarious position. It was no ones fault but his own and now he was gonna pay big time. You had hopped right into the drivers seat leaving your dumbfounded partner to connect the dots on his own.

He should have objected thinking back, he really really should have. Commander Phillip Graves who has been around the globe, shot at, and knocked around more times than he can count did not want to deal with the fallback of wrangling you out of there.

When you reached your hand out to switch the gear, instead of holding the break like you should've, the loud sound of the engine revving blasted in his ears as you pressed the accelerator. You jolted in your seat, instinctually grabbing his forearm.

"Baby! You hit the gas."

Upon seeing his widened eyes, you couldn't help but chuckle. Laughing it off, you apologize and start up the truck.

At least that incident was stationary. It got so much worse.

"Shit, that was a trashcan."

"Phill turn up the music. That ambulance siren is distracting me."

"Did I just roll that stop sign?"

He was gonna die in this metal box. The two things he loved most were going to kill him. Phillip Graves death by bomb? No, Phillip Graves death by his wonderful girlfriends horrible driving.

In fact, he'd probably have a better chance if he had been in that tank than with you.

"Hon you're uh- this is a 35 zone and you're goin' 58."

You made a pfft sound and waved him off. Gosh he really wished you kept both of your hands tight on that wheel at this speed (at any speed really).

"Those things are like suggestions. This could totally be like a 45." You said.

"You'd still be- oomph!" Phillip was interrupted by his body being jerked against his seatbelt. Without a moments delay, his arm shot across your chest to keep you firmly pressed to the back of the seat.

Without a second of acknowledgment you slap the steering wheel with a scoff.

"Come on, that was bullshit! Hardly enough time to stop." You complained while staring at the shine of the red traffic light.

"Well maybe if you-"

Nope. Not gonna do that. He didn't even have a chance to raise his voice a note higher before you were glowering his way. No thank you ma'am.

"Nothin'. You're right. Bullshit."

He would hide the keys away from you from now on. He'd dig through your purse when you went to the washroom and snatch them up before you'd even have the chance to ask to drive home.

If Phill was gonna die any other way than old age amongst the horde of kids and grand-babies y'all would have together one day, it was not gonna be because you flung him into a fuckin' electrical pole.

Suddenly, the truck began to move faster...

and faster...

The moment he heard your squeal, his heart dropped to his stomach.

"Phill! Phill my heel is stuck-" The panic in your voice was palpable, the sight of cars in the distance coming closer in view by the second. Tears had begun to gather at your lash line in alarm.

With the reflexes as a man with his own PMC, his unclicks his seatbelt and practically flings himself over the console. Grabbing your foot, he jiggles it from the wedge it trapped itself and pushed on to the break you had made no attempt to use.

Another hard stop, but one made just in time before any collision could take place. Snapping out of your stupor, you allow the truck to slowly roll for a moment while a red faced Phillip looked at you with fury that knew no bounds.

"Pull over."

With a grimace, you attempted to reply. Only to have Phill grab the wheel and fully turn you to the side of the road, signaling and all.

Clicking on the emergency lights as he opens, exits, and closes his door while you still reeled from your miiiiinor incident.

Opening your door, his stern expression warranted no argument as he held a hand out to help you down.

"Out right now. No buts or nothin'."

Hastily complying, you slip your palm into his and scampered to the passenger seat.

After you buckled your seatbelt in and Phill had time to huff and rejoin the road, he uses his free hand to grab on to yours and press a tender kiss to your knuckles while keeping his blue eyes stubbornly fixed forward.

…

Safe to say you let him play his own music this time.

[tinkeraroha]

I will now actually answer VERY SINGLE QUESTION OF THIS XD

also i wrote this in an interview type style... you can also read this on my AO3 .... this is over 5000 words long gods help me ...........

Name: Ashryn De Riva 

Pronouns: They/She /Her 

Race: Elven 

Faction: An Antivan Crow

Class: Mage

Specialization: Spellblade

Before The Veilguard

Where was Rook born? Who were their childhood family and friends? What did they spend their free time doing as a child? What did they want to be when they “grew up” if anything.

A: Uff good first question. Well, as far as I know I was born somewhere in Antiva, I don't really know where as I didn't really stay there for a long time. As a kid I didn't really have friends, like before I became a crow. I had other problems than who I should play with at the time. My mother was my only blood family I knew as she was taken with me. She was a slave for a Powerful Mage, and if I had to name a friend during that time I would say the stable boy, he was also a dalish captive but I heard he had been sold from Tevinter , or was he a present I don't really remember … He was the one I could talk with and he hid me more than once when the Mages son was looking for me. What I wanted to be when I grew up? Mmmh another good question, free maybe? ( she laughs) No, I wanted to be powerful and able to help others. Actually I wanted to be Crow, I  heard from the other slaves that there were those dark Asassines who would kill if you paid them enough. I actually used to save up any coin I could find, or steal, to pay them one day. In the end I didn't even save up enough to buy a loaf of fresh bread.( laughs again)

Where and how was Rook educated? What did they enjoy learning; what did they dislike learning? Who did they admire most? Who was an example of what not to do or be?

A: My Mother, bless her , tried her best to teach me things. Thanks to her I actually still speak elven, well to some extent. My magic abilities showed very early. I was still a little kid, maybe around the age of 7 or eight, so she also tried to teach me about those things even though she didn't have any magic gifts. She always said I got that from her father. The other slaves also tried to teach us young ones. I  snuck into the attic often, from there you could hear the teacher of the Mages son ramble for hours, while his student fell asleep most of the time. 

How did they experience gender as a young person? Did they grow up in an environment of strict gender roles and expectations or were they allowed to be themselves? 

A: I  never actively thought about being anything other than a woman, I am what I am and I like it. But I don't really care as to how people call me, okay maybe ‘he’ just doesn't fit with me but if they want to people can call me ‘they’ as well. ( shrugged) I don't really care. 

My mother wasn't really strict about gender, she always said being me was enough. She even kind of adopted another young slave who had been shunned by the others, as she identified herself as a female, despite being born a male. Gods did I hate that girl, not because of this obviously but she wasn't the nicest person, when the adults were not around. 

What was their take on sexuality as a young person? Did they experiment with romance or find it entirely uninteresting?

A:  Again never actually thought about it. I liked men as a kid … tho I never had a puppy love or how you call it… And after I joined the crows as a fledgling I started to notice how I felt for women ( shrugges ). I used to flirt with Teia as a  young one just to annoy Viago, and I had a bit of a crush on her , but please don't tell him that. I want to live for a bit longer.

What was their take on spirituality as a young person? Did they grow up around one particular religion and if so how did that affect their beliefs?

A: I was fascinated by the veil and the fade as a kid. Loved to study on Spirits and things like that, so I would say I was fond of Spirits… oh you mean spirituality like religion… mmmmh i grew up with both elven gods and the maker. My mother taught me the tales of our ancestors and I loved hearing them. And the crows showed me the beliefs of the Maker. But I associate myself more with the elven beliefs I would say. 

What childhood fear(s) did Rook carry with them into adulthood?

A: It's not really a fear but… I can't really swim that well, which is ironic when you think about where I grew up but the mage that owned me had this spell… Made you feel like you were drowning so I never went deeper than knee deep water till I was what? Like 17? 

How did Rook become involved with their chosen faction? Who did they meet first, and how, and where, and why did they join up?

this is gonna take a while ( laughs) the first Crow I ever got to meet was Viago… I am not surprised as he is my house's Talon and something like my older brother, which he would never under any circumstances admit. I met him at a job of his.  Okay maybe i have to further explain that. I met him after I ruined his contract by killing his target , who was also the Slave owning Mage I mentioned before… i dont think I'm actually gonna elaborate on that one, sorry. Let me have a few more secrets or surprises left. ( laughs) 

Was Rook interested in finding a life partner of some kind when they joined their faction? Why? Who were their best friends and how did they meet? Who were their rivals, who did they trust? 

A: Of course I want a live partner, but that's certainly not why I joined the crows. You die alone more often on the job than you find a spouse being an Assassin. Also I was only eleven, boys were disgusting at that age and growing up under Viagos keen eyes… It's a miracle I actually got to meet other beings other than snakes and other poisonous things.  My best friends would actually be Teia and Viago. I know that's lame but its like that. I'm also close with Jacobus now… I hope I'm something to him like Viago was to me. My rivals mmmh all the other fledglings I guess, i don't know. 

Did Rook have any scars or tattoos? What’s the story behind them?

A: I do have a few of either one. My most notable scars are the one on my nose and the one on my cheek up to my eyebrows. The nose one is actually quite embarrassing. I got it sneaking out of the De Riva mension when I was 16 to meet a merchant's son I found… rather interesting. Viago caught me and threw a book after me, hit me right in the face and had me falling off my Balcony…. Right on his Motto being killed by my own stupidity. 

On the cheek that one is fairly new got it fighting the Antaam 1 vs 20 to free their captives. That's how I meet Varric. 

I also have one on my right shoulder and one on my neck that when a fledgling from another house tried to kill me… Got damn near close to it, but let's just say I'm a Crow and he's not. 

For tattoos I have my Vallasin , my mother gave it to me when my Magic began showing,  and I also have a snake on my chest for the way Viago and the De Rivas saved my life. My house tattoo is on my right wrist.

Did Rook ever strongly identify with a particular nationality, city, race, creed, or religion? Is this something they explored on their own or a tradition that was passed down to them? Did this identity evolve as they grew into adulthood?

A: I am an elf, so of course I identify with them. They are my people and my heritage as I said I was born dalish but not raised like them, traditionally. But Antiva and over all Treviso is my home, it's my city, it's my country. I will protect it even if it means going against the rules or losing my life. 

Lightning Round - PREGAME VERSION

Favorite scent: snake babies… don't ask, just smell them. And maybe Thymian 

Favorite food: I love anything with Caramel, also anything with potatoes 

Favorite animal: mmmmh Wolves are pretty neat, maybe mabaris and cats too. Oh and of course Crowds

Favorite book or story: the dreadwolf and the Halla its a tale my mother used to tell 

Favorite drink: Cioccolata calda

Favorite item of clothing: capes 

Favorite keepsake: a little halla statue,  my first dagger 

Favorite place: the diamond 

Favorite person: Teia

Favorite little treat: Caramel drops and cake. 

During The Veilguard (HEAVY SPOILERS BENEATH THE CUT)

Act 1: Signs and Portents

What was Rook’s status with their own faction at the beginning of the game? Why were they recruited by Varric?

A: I was good on the side , I think, okay I pissed them off with the shit I pulled with the Antaam. Tho Teia said she and Vi were a bit proud about me, beating them 20 against 1. Varric recruited me because I freed him, but if you ask him it's because I went against my orders for a greater cause thinking only about the others, not me as I freed them. 

What did Rook think of Varric when they first met? Did Rook support Varric’s choice to confront Solas alone?

A: At first I found him strange, I did know about the Inquisition and heard tales of a dwarf with them but still strange. Funny thing is, I actually own a few of his books. But he grew on me and we made a contract so…

Did Rook take Neve or Harding with them when they went to interrupt the ritual themselves? Why?

A: I took Harding, as a Mage Neve would be more skilled fighting the demons of while we would be a tad more difficult to spot for solas 

How did Rook engage with stories of the elven gods at the beginning of the Veilguard? Were the familiar or strange? Was it disorienting to have them rewritten or did it make no real difference to them?

A: Oh I knew them as I said my mother used to tell me stories about them even my lullaby was about Ghilan'nain and her Halla. 

Having them rewritten as tyrants was…. something. Like a half identity crisis, they are not my whole life like for the Dawlish, but still they are my ancestors' gods.

What was Rook’s instinctive reaction to having Solas in their head and dreams? How did Rook respond when Solas asked them why they should be the one to lead the Veilguard?

A: It was concerning, him using blood magic to speak to me. I wondered if he could read every thought of mine if he could control me. And again he is the Dread Wolf, the god my mother said to love and fear at the same time. He's the trickster of trickster, the one who's neither an forgotten god or an evanuris. 

I answered him directly. There is no use to lying at him, maybe half truths are the way to go. Nobody else would do it, and Varric told me to look after them for him. I'm just a Rook who switched with the king. 

Did Rook think Neve was right about needing more investigation before acting or that Harding was right that there was no time to spare? What made them think that?

A: I was with Harding on this , yes we needed more information but the situation was… Not really time giving. 

What did Rook decide to do with Mayor Julius of D’Meta’s crossing? Why?

A: I saved him, ironically I'm not a murderer , I don't kill if it's not a contract or a necessary thing. He was wrong and the best way to punish him was living with what he had done.

How did Rook react to Harding’s new magic? Were they supportive or wary or a mix of both? 

A: I think magic is a gift and that I told her even though it did make me worried about how she got it. It was something to worry about after..

How did Rook feel among the ancient elven magic and ruins of Arlathan? Did they find Bellara’s work disturbing or fascinating or something else?

A: It was fascinating, very very fascinating. The ruins made me feel small and insignificant in comparison with the history of those places. It felt heavy and rich with tales that were never told and lost in time.

How did Rook feel about working with a bunch of assassins, the Antivan Crows? Were they familiar with the organization, a Crow themselves, or something else? How did they feel about Lucanis, specifically about Lucanis and Spite?

A: I'm a crow so I was excited. I had heard about the Demon of Varentium, but oddly I don't think I have ever met him before. At least I don't remember, maybe at some banquet or something. I find him and spite… fascinating a none mage that was possessed or better to say bonded with a demon without it taking over… fascinating.  And of course I respect him as the first Talons Grandson. He is… powerful to say the least. I do keep my eyes on him… to keep track of Spite of course

  How did Rook feel about the Shadow Dragons? Had they ever been to Minrathous before or just heard stories? How did Neve strike them at first?

A: It's a good organisation fighting for their city and it's good to have a widespread connection for information.  

Neve is competent and powerful. Also she is kind and fights for those who can't fight for themselves.  And her mind, wow it's sharp as a knife and gods that women are charming.

What did Rook think of the Wardens when they met them? The First Warden? Antoine and Evka? Davrin (and his tits)? And of course, the MVP, Assan?

A: I have adored Antione and Evka with my whole life. I have known them for like a day and if anything happens to them I will kill all of Thedas.  The first Warden? He can fuck himself in his metal protected knee. He has to come down from his high horse or he's gonna fall very very deep, in my Knife. 

Davrin is… A blessing of the eyes and mind. He's someone reliable and I think we are gonna be very good friends. 

Assan? That's my kid and I will fight Davrin for it… I love that damn winged cat so much, do you know he can Purr. 

Did Rook choose to help Minrathous or Treviso? Why?

A: Treviso,  it's my city, my home, my people. It was still a hard choice 

How did Rook feel after seeing what happened to the city they couldn’t save? Who did they talk to about it, if anyone, and how did they feel toward Neve and Lucanis in the aftermath?

A: saying I was devastated is the understatement of the Age. Iwas…. In pure shock especially as I saw the Viper blighted it…. It was such a huge decision and only one person made it? That's not fair,  I thought that maybe with the army and the Shadow dragons Minrathous had the biggest chance of keeping themselves safe, how could a single mage do anything more. 

Had Rook ever been to Rivain before? What were their impressions? Did they have any experience with Antaam or Qunari outside the Qun? What did they think of Taash and Shanthann?

A: I've been to Rivain before on a contract on a Pirate. Pretty fun one actually. Oh and I KNEW the Antaam before,  I had seen a few Qunari before, those who fell out of the Qun but aren't Antaam but not too many. For Taash and their mother…. I like Taash, they are a bit hot headed and that comes from me soo… Their mother is odd, too strict about Taash and the Qun about living like a Qunari when she was the one that brought them to Rivain.

What was Rook’s first impression of the Nevarran Necropolis? Were they interested, disturbed, or something else? What did they think of Emmrich and, most importantly, Manfred?

A: I LOVE THE NECROPOLIS.  It's so haunting and spooky while you can learn so many things there. Also Vorgoth is just I love him, them, i don't know. Also Emmrich is just so inspiring and I can learn so much from him. It's so good to have him join us. Manfred is also an enrichment, finally. Someone to play with our little Griffon. Also I don't really drink tea but the tea Manfred makes…. so good. Even though I do have to say it's a bit of a waste of my work , necromancy I mean what does it bring killing someone just so they can be resurrected at a mages will.

What did Rook think of the Inquisitor? Did they become personal friends or did they keep it professional? Who was the Inquisitor’s lover, if any, and did Rook have an opinion of that?

A: The Inquisitor is such A strong person and she is powerful and stunning. We write eachother often and I admire her even more for her strength to keep believing in Solas and the love they share.

At the Siege of Weisshaupt, how did Rook deal with the First Warden and why?

A: I punched that prick's face. Didn't think he would go down with one punch. I mean he's a warrior after all, but he went down like a sack of stones. There was no reasoning with him,  he would have killed way more of the Grey Wardens. 

Act 2: The Price of the Past

How did Rook react to the aftermath of Weisshaupt? Were they sad, angry, scared, all of the above, or something else? Did they blame themselves? Lucanis? The First Warden? Ghilan'nain? Who did they talk to about it, and did they show their true feelings to their companions?

A: I blamed myself, I was the one responsible for the team, I was the one with the most information on the gods…. It was not Lucanis' fault or anyones else's, it was mine. We should have taken her down at Weisshaupt and the guilt we didn't lie with me, the guilt is my burden to bear so no I didn't tell any of the companions…. It's my burden to bear.

Had Rook developed a romantic interest in one of their companions--or someone else!--by the time Weisshaupt fell? If so, were they eager to explore it or afraid to? Why?

A: Okay, I admit it.. I do have hots for Lucanis. Can you blame me? Have you seen this man cook or heard him talk? …. that's better than anything. Also he's just… wow how can he be so careful with us all, so soft around us, helping us, care for us while he's a feared assassin. And also while he's possessed by a literal demon. And no I did not act on it, he has enough things to handle himself and spite. I don't wanna add myself and my one sided feelings to it. Though I did catch myself that I do talk to him more often and that I look at him….. I believe Neve might have caught that. 

Who were Rook’s closest companions, and what did they like about them? Who irritated Rook, if anyone, and how?

A: Most of the time on the road with Lucanis and Bellara, or sometimes Emmerich. I'm closest to those three I would say. Nobody irritates me really, maybe Taash sometimes.. They really need to work on their patience but no one really gets on my nerves 

How did Rook respond to Davrin and Lucanis’s animosity finally boiling over? Were they sympathetic to one or the other or to both?

A: I understand both. Davrin lost so many friends at Weishaupt, the survivor's guilt is eating him alive faster than the blight could. Lucanis is spiraling because of guilt ,  he never missed a shot before he always meets his Target, failing to kill Ghilan'nain is a hard blow for them both,  they needed to let go of that steam.

When Elgar’nan took the Dalish prisoners to use as sacrifices, what was Rook’s first reaction? Were they resolved, raging, sad, or some combination? Did they talk to any of their companions about it?

A: Horror pure Horror,  the way he slaughtered those Halas, the casualty of the Venatori that attended it was gruesome and got my blood boiling. His whole Plan, the dalish everything was just, he may not be as visually shocking as Ghilan´nian but he is so mu=ch worse than her. I will rip his damn heart out of his chest while it is still beating. I talked with Bellara about it for hours after. 

What was Rook’s reaction to The Butcher’s proposition to them in Treviso? Did they respect it, think it was bonkers, or something else? Did they discuss it with any of their companions after the fact?

A: It was weird to say the least but I respect that, kind of.  Treviso is a  jewel and we have to protect it. 

Did Rook express concerns about Illario’s behavior to Lucanis? Did Rook encourage him to punish or to forgive Illario? Did Rook encourage Lucanis to work with Spite to save Catarina or to punish Illario? What were Rook’s impressions of Catarina both before and after her kidnapping? How did Rook feel about Lucanis becoming First Talon?

A: I have to admit,  Illario always made me suspicious,  but in the end I encouraged Luvanis to forgive him, the embarrassment was more than enough. But I will keep a close watch of him… If he tries to pull such a stunt again, I will end him myself. Even if it means Catarina will kill me. 

Of course I encouraged him and Spite to work together to save Catarina , everything else would end in innocent blood being spilled.

Catarina is scary, she wants furst talon for nothing. She's Deadly. I'm glad to never have met her at her Prime and I respect her so much. She raised Lucanis, maybe not fair or lovingly, but he came out right.

Lucanis becoming First Talon, was , wow he's now my boss's boss which is….. concerning feelings wise but also I respect him.  It makes me nervous to tell him what to do. ( laughs)

Did Rook support Bellara in her desire to save Cyrian or did they encourage her to be more forceful in stopping him immediately? Did they encourage her to keep the Nadas Dirthalen or to destroy it?

A: I helped her trying to talk to Cyrian and I cried with her as she held him in Her arms As he died. For the archive I told her to keep it, it holds a lot of knowledge about our people, and now we need something to cling to now after our gods and our beliefs were shattered.

Did Rook encourage the alliance with the Threads in Dock Town? Did they encourage Neve to bring Dock Town hope or to become a darker protector-figure?

A: the threads may be criminals but they certainly care for the city ,  for Neve she's a hope for Dock Town 

What was Rook’s reaction to the revelations about the Titans and the residual anger their downfall and exploitation at the hands of the Evanuris  left behind? Did it change how they felt about Harding’s new powers, and if so, how? Did they encourage Harding to embrace the Titan’s anger or to remember their compassionate side?

A: I felt …. guilt i felt Solas guilt, my ancestors killed hers, they eradicated every single one. I told her she was more than this Anger that her compassionate side was stronger. She may have the blood and memory of the Titans but she still is Harding

How did Rook encourage Davrin to train and interact with Assan? Did they suggest discipline or kindness or some mixture of both? What were Rook’s feelings on seeing the twisted recreation of Weisshaupt, The Profane City? How did the blighted First Warden react to seeing Rook again there? Did Rook decide the griffons should go to the Anderfels with the Wardens or stay in Arlathan as protectors of nature?

A: I will have nightmares about that twisted Weisshaupt. Maybe I should take Lucanis' approach and just not sleep. For the griffons I think it's time they lay down the weapon… they will flourish in Arlathan and Arlathan will flourish through them. For the First Warden, he didn't like me living, he dont like me as blighted.  Still he didn't deserve that ending. 

Davrin and Assan are a team now, kindness and discipline is a good mix for both of them , but let's be fair Assan is going to dance on Davrins nose. 

What did Rook think of Emmrich’s confession that he wanted to attain lichdom? Did their views on necromancy change as they got to know Emmrich and the Mourn Watch better? Did they encourage Emmrich to attain lichdom or to revive Manfred?

A: it's his choice but i would have been sad to see manfred go, which is weird to say as he's a Skeleton but still. Who would play rock, paper scissors with me. And I know that Emmerich would have shattered without his skeleton son, eternity can be lonely just look at Solas. 

How did Taash’s journey to finding themselves strike Rook? What did Rook think of Shathann once they got to know her better? Did that change after her death? Did Rook encourage Taash to embrace their Rivaini culture or to fall back on the strength of their mother’s teachings about the Qun?

A: Taash mother and me never really got along and that's okay, i don't need to be liked by everyone…. i don't even want that. But still i was sad to see her die that way, my heart broke for taash. still i told them to embrace who they are and where they grew up. find strength in happiness of your own.

(If Rook didn’t romance Harding or Taash:) Did Rook encourage Taash to get a gift to express interest in Harding? What was it and why? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

A: Taash bought Harding something for her arrows and hey I love that they get along THAT well ( laughs ) at least some of us are getting some u know what ( laughs even louder)

(If Rook didn’t romance Emmrich:) Did Rook encourage Emmrich to take Strife to the caves or the forest on a date? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

A: This really came out of nowhere to be honest but I like it, even though Strife can be a bit… mean sometimes ( laughs again) the comment about me being a city mage wasn't really necessary but still.  I love that for them they are like my uncles 

How did Rook deal with the friction between Taash and Emmrich? Did they encourage them to find common ground or to talk about other things? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

A: told them to just find a common ground … this little fight was unnecessary, but it also was kind of predictable now they always ramble on about plants

Did Rook romance any of their companions after all? What was that like for them, and how did it happen? Did the other companions have an opinion?

A: Well, ahem ( visibly blushes) me and lucanis are getting along very very well, even spite seems to like me ( laughs) it was actually nice talking to him in Lucanis mind… Even though the circumstances could have been better. For the companions Neve was happy for us both especially seemingly for Lucanis. Harding was also happy but still worried about spite. I think Emmerich is already planning a wedding bouquet and he's getting ready to fight Viago to be the one to bring me to the altar. The others are happy too though Davrin seems the most worried. Oh and the Inquisitor is more than thrilled ( laughs)

Who did Rook feel closest to by the time they were making plans with the Inquisitor to stop the gods’ ritual at the eclipse?

A: I mean the answer is obviously Lucanis, but after him maybe Emmerich he was my calming point of this whole thing 

Did Rook choose Davrin or Harding to lead a second team at Tearstone Island? Why? How did they feel in the aftermath of Tearstone Island about that choice? How did they honor their fallen teammate later?

S: It was Harding and I was devastated. I lost my sister that day.That what she was for me Family not just a friend. I joined her to keep going, no matter the price , for Lace 

Did Rook choose Neve or Bellara to take down the wards at Tearstone Island? Why? Did they regret their choice? How did they come to terms with it after?

A: my bell my little Bellara she was the one to take down the wards she knew them enough , I thought she would be safe…. I beat myself up over it and i still feel the guilt

How did Rook deal with learning they’d been magically gaslit into thinking Varric was alive all this time??????

A: I wanted to kick his bold wolf ass…. THE PURE AUDACITY LIKE WHAT?!?!?! 

Did Rook find the Mysterious Circles?

A: yes i actually did 

Did Rook find all of Solas’s regrets after the Inquisitor gave them the first? What were their reactions to the revelations about:

A: I found them all…. One worse than the other

The Golden City/The Black City and The Chantry’s doctrine being false

It did not hit me as hard as it should have 

Mythal convincing Solas to take a mortal form

The pain Of him… I understood him better after this. A spirit if wisdom becomes a Pride demon after being Used against their purpose and getting twisted

Solas being willing to sacrifice his followers for his end goals

he….. I hated him for that but it was necessary and I know it was not an easy decision for him. “ they died as who they were” this hitted  harder after knowing who and what he once was

Ancient elves originating as spirits who took mortal form

I jokingly talked with Emmerich about what kind of spirit I would be. He said Determination , Courage or Compassion …. Lucanis said Spite liked the idear of me being a Spirit of Determination 

 ●The elves -- particularly Solas and Mythal -- killing and exploiting the Titans to win the war against them

Guilt i felt the guilt of Solas, like i already, said….. and rage 

The blight being the Titan’s lost, angry dreams

It scares Me how powerful those beings could have been if the blight are there angers and dreams

Solas regaining his power pre-Inquisition by killing Mythal’s current host

-i didn't know her , the other host, and to be true after all i have seen of her i don't really know if i feel sympathy for her, i meant mythal.

Bonus Round: Were Solas and Mythal doing it?

Oh definitely

Mythal's essence. How did they get it from her? Was it a fight or a matter of discussion? How did they feel, meeting her?

It was a discussion,  one that felt like talking to an explosive ready to go off any minute….. it was strange meeting her. Her fragment seemed bitter and like she lost herself.

Act 3: The Wrath of Ages

Were all Rook’s allied factions at maximum strength when they launched their attack on Elgar’nan? Which ones weren’t, and why? Did Rook favor any of them? Their own? Someone else’s?

A: They were all my allies and all were the strongest they could be…. And of course I would favor my people the crows

Who did Rook choose to support the Veil Jumpers in the final battle dealing with magical wards or protecting others?

Neve knows Those wards better than anyone so i chose her

Who did Rook choose to support the Crows and the Lords of Fortune in the final battle fighting mages or attacking by surprise?

A: Of course lucanis… Whonwohlf be better at killing mages than my own Demon of Verantium

Who did Rook choose to support the Wardens and the Mourn Watch in the final battle fighting massive enemies and constructs?

A: Taash knows best how to fight giant enemies

Who did Rook choose to take with them for the final battle against Elgar’nan and why?

A: Emmerich and Davrin, Emmrich is a skilled mage with years of knowledge also he keeps a cool mind no matter what. Davrin is a Warden he qs trained to fight Darkspawn And he's a skilled soldier who has fought many battles.

Did Rook plan to trick Solas with the fake dagger or did they think they better not risk it?

A :Tricking the god of Trickery is suicide but it was put only option if he would have not let him  be talked down

Did Morrigan give you Felassen’s Rune? How did Rook use it?

A Fellassen helped me finish it all for good

Did Rook have a lover to talk with before the final battle? How did they feel in that moment?

A: Lucanis and I talked… His words embedded themself in my brain they guided me up that tower and echoed inside me as i slayed a god

After defeating Elgar’nan, how did Rook deal with Solas and the veil? Was it different than they had planned? If so, why and how?

A: I Talked with him… He had to overcome his regrets…. Mithal was there and seeing tbe mighty Dread wolf breakdown …..  cried as i saw the Inquisitor leave with him together into the fade i hope to some day to hear from then again 

What did Rook do on the day after saving the world?

I returned to the lighthouse…. and slept a long Dreamless sleep…. I think it was Dreamless….

Lightning Round - AFTERMATH VERSION

Favorite scent:Fresh grounded Coffee and the forest

Favorite food: Paella 

Favorite animal: Griffons and Dragons 

Favorite book or story: Varric's last book he never released

Favorite drink: Coffee

Favorite item of clothing: my Crow attire 

Favorite keepsake: An antivan crow mask, varrrics shawing mirror

Favorite place:the lighthouses dining table and the wolf's lair

Favorite person: Lucanis 

Favorite little treat: Hazelnut Torte

Who is Rook?

We have no Keep to keep our memories this time my friends, so I made a thing. Use it as you will, take pieces, use parts, do the whole damn thing, whatever. Thanks to @mageofquandrix for the backup on this!

Leaving the spoilery part beneath the cut.

Who is Rook?

Name:

Pronouns:

Race:

Faction:

Class:

Specialization:

Before The Veilguard

Where was Rook born? Who were their childhood family and friends? What did they spend their free time doing as a child? What did they want to be when they “grew up” if anything.

Where and how was Rook educated? What did they enjoy learning; what did they dislike learning? Who did they admire most? Who was an example of what not to do or be?

How did they experience gender as a young person? Did they grow up in an environment of strict gender roles and expectations or were they allowed to be themselves? 

What was their take on sexuality as a young person? Did they experiment with romance or find it entirely uninteresting?

What was their take on spirituality as a young person? Did they grow up around one particular religion and if so how did that affect their beliefs?

What childhood fear(s) did Rook carry with them into adulthood?

How did Rook become involved with their chosen faction? Who did they meet first, and how, and where, and why did they join up?

Was Rook interested in finding a life partner of some kind when they joined their faction? Why? Who were their best friends and how did they meet? Who were their rivals, who did they trust?

Did Rook have any scars or tattoos? What’s the story behind them?

Did Rook ever strongly identify with a particular nationality, city, race, creed, or religion? Is this something they explored on their own or a tradition that was passed down to them? Did this identity evolve as they grew into adulthood?

Lightning Round - PREGAME VERSION

Favorite scent:

Favorite food:

Favorite animal:

Favorite book or story:

Favorite drink:

Favorite item of clothing:

Favorite keepsake:

Favorite place:

Favorite person:

Favorite little treat:

During The Veilguard (HEAVY SPOILERS BENEATH THE CUT)

Act 1: Signs and Portents

What was Rook’s status with their own faction at the beginning of the game? Why were they recruited by Varric?

What did Rook think of Varric when they first met? Did Rook support Varric’s choice to confront Solas alone?

Did Rook take Neve or Harding with them when they went to interrupt the ritual themselves? Why?

How did Rook engage with stories of the elven gods at the beginning of the Veilguard? Were the familiar or strange? Was it disorienting to have them rewritten or did it make no real difference to them?

What was Rook’s instinctive reaction to having Solas in their head and dreams? How did Rook respond when Solas asked them why they should be the one to lead the Veilguard?

Did Rook think Neve was right about needing more investigation before acting or that Harding was right that there was no time to spare? What made them think that?

What did Rook decide to do with Mayor Julius of D’Meta’s crossing? Why?

How did Rook react to Harding’s new magic? Were they supportive or wary or a mix of both? 

How did Rook feel among the ancient elven magic and ruins of Arlathan? Did they find Bellara’s work disturbing or fascinating or something else?

How did Rook feel about working with a bunch of assassins, the Antivan Crows? Were they familiar with the organization, a Crow themselves, or something else? How did they feel about Lucanis, specifically about Lucanis and Spite?

How did Rook feel about the Shadow Dragons? Had they ever been to Minrathous before or just heard stories? How did Neve strike them at first?

What did Rook think of the Wardens when they met them? The First Warden? Antoine and Evka? Davrin (and his tits)? And of course, the MVP, Assan?

Did Rook choose to help Minrathous or Treviso? Why?

How did Rook feel after seeing what happened to the city they couldn’t save? Who did they talk to about it, if anyone, and how did they feel toward Neve and Lucanis in the aftermath?

Had Rook ever been to Rivain before? What were their impressions? Did they have any experience with Antaam or Qunari outside the Qun? What did they think of Taash and Shanthann?

What was Rook’s first impression of the Nevarran Necropolis? Were they interested, disturbed, or something else? What did they think of Emmrich and, most importantly, Manfred?

What did Rook think of the Inquisitor? Did they become personal friends or did they keep it professional? Who was the Inquisitor’s lover, if any, and did Rook have an opinion of that?

At the Siege of Weisshaupt, how did Rook deal with the First Warden and why?

Act 2: The Price of the Past

How did Rook react to the aftermath of Weisshaupt? Were they sad, angry, scared, all of the above, or something else? Did they blame themselves? Lucanis? The First Warden? Ghilan'nain? Who did they talk to about it, and did they show their true feelings to their companions?

Had Rook developed a romantic interest in one of their companions--or someone else!--by the time Weisshaupt fell? If so, were they eager to explore it or afraid to? Why?

Who were Rook’s closest companions, and what did they like about them? Who irritated Rook, if anyone, and how?

How did Rook respond to Davrin and Lucanis’s animosity finally boiling over? Were they sympathetic to one or the other or to both?

When Elgar’nan took the Dalish prisoners to use as sacrifices, what was Rook’s first reaction? Were they resolved, raging, sad, or some combination? Did they talk to any of their companions about it?

What was Rook’s reaction to The Butcher’s proposition to them in Treviso? Did they respect it, think it was bonkers, or something else? Did they discuss it with any of their companions after the fact?

Did Rook express concerns about Illario’s behavior to Lucanis? Did Rook encourage him to punish or to forgive Illario? Did Rook encourage Lucanis to work with Spite to save Catarina or to punish Illario? What were Rook’s impressions of Catarina both before and after her kidnapping? How did Rook feel about Lucanis becoming First Talon?

Did Rook support Bellara in her desire to save Cyrian or did they encourage her to be more forceful in stopping him immediately? Did they encourage her to keep the Nadas Dirthalen or to destroy it?

Did Rook encourage the alliance with the Threads in Dock Town? Did they encourage Neve to bring Dock Town hope or to become a darker protector-figure?

What was Rook’s reaction to the revelations about the Titans and the residual anger their downfall and exploitation at the hands of the Evanuris  left behind? Did it change how they felt about Harding’s new powers, and if so, how? Did they encourage Harding to embrace the Titan’s anger or to remember their compassionate side?

How did Rook encourage Davrin to train and interact with Assan? Did they suggest discipline or kindness or some mixture of both? What were Rook’s feelings on seeing the twisted recreation of Weisshaupt, The Profane City? How did the blighted First Warden react to seeing Rook again there? Did Rook decide the griffons should go to the Anderfels with the Wardens or stay in Arlathan as protectors of nature?

What did Rook think of Emmrich’s confession that he wanted to attain lichdom? Did their views on necromancy change as they got to know Emmrich and the Mourn Watch better? Did they encourage Emmrich to attain lichdom or to revive Manfred?

How did Taash’s journey to finding themselves strike Rook? What did Rook think of Shathann once they got to know her better? Did that change after her death? Did Rook encourage Taash to embrace their Rivaini culture or to fall back on the strength of their mother’s teachings about the Qun?

(If Rook didn’t romance Harding or Taash:) Did Rook encourage Taash to get a gift to express interest in Harding? What was it and why? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

(If Rook didn’t romance Never or Lucanis:) How did Rook feel about Neve and Lucanis’s Romance? Did they encourage it?

(If Rook didn’t romance Emmrich:) Did Rook encourage Emmrich to take Strife to the caves or the forest on a date? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

How did Rook deal with the friction between Taash and Emmrich? Did they encourage them to find common ground or to talk about other things? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?

Did Rook romance any of their companions after all? What was that like for them, and how did it happen? Did the other companions have an opinion?

Who did Rook feel closest to by the time they were making plans with the Inquisitor to stop the gods’ ritual at the eclipse?

Did Rook choose Davrin or Harding to lead a second team at Tearstone Island? Why? How did they feel in the aftermath of Tearstone Island about that choice? How did they honor their fallen teammate later?

Did Rook choose Neve or Bellara to take down the wards at Tearstone Island? Why? Did they regret their choice? How did they come to terms with it after?

How did Rook deal with learning they’d been magically gaslit into thinking Varric was alive all this time??????

Did Rook find the Mysterious Circles?

Did Rook find all of Solas’s regrets after the Inquisitor gave them the first? What were their reactions to the revelations about:

The Golden City/The Black City and The Chantry’s doctrine being false

Mythal convincing Solas to take a mortal form

Solas being willing to sacrifice his followers for his end goals

Ancient elves originating as spirits who took mortal form

The elves -- particularly Solas and Mythal -- killing and exploiting the Titans to win the war against them

The blight being the Titan’s lost, angry dreams

Solas regaining his power pre-Inquisition by killing Mythal’s current host

Bonus Round: Were Solas and Mythal doing it?

Mythal's essence. How did they get it from her? Was it a fight or a matter of discussion? How did they feel, meeting her?

Act 3: The Wrath of Ages

Were all Rook’s allied factions at maximum strength when they launched their attack on Elgar’nan? Which ones weren’t, and why? Did Rook favor any of them? Their own? Someone else’s?

Who did Rook choose to support the Veil Jumpers in the final battle dealing with magical wards or protecting others?

Who did Rook choose to support the Crows and the Lords of Fortune in the final battle fighting mages or attacking by surprise?

Who did Rook choose to support the Wardens and the Mourn Watch in the final battle fighting massive enemies and constructs?

Who did Rook choose to take with them for the final battle against Elgar’nan and why?

Did Rook plan to trick Solas with the fake dagger or did they think they better not risk it?

Did Morrigan give you Felassen’s Rune? How did Rook use it?

Did Rook have a lover to talk with before the final battle? How did they feel in that moment?

After defeating Elgar’nan, how did Rook deal with Solas and the veil? Was it different than they had planned? If so, why and how?

What did Rook do on the day after saving the world?

Lightning Round - AFTERMATH VERSION

Favorite scent:

Favorite food:

Favorite animal:

Favorite book or story:

Favorite drink:

Favorite item of clothing:

Favorite keepsake:

Favorite place:

Favorite person:

Favorite little treat:

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi Suzu, how are you?

Could I request a fluff fic with reverse isekai and harbinger! scaramouche please :)

harbinger!scaramouche x fem!reader. fluffy fluff fluff. reverse isekai.

i know my fluff doesn't hit as well because i know that's not why you guys are really here, but, i enjoy writing fluff so 😊

scaramouche wasn't an idiot. once he'd discovered that the stars in teyvat were fake, he got to thinking. the idea of the stars had to come from somewhere else. the second he mysteriously arrived in your world, he sure got his answer.

your world's stars have to be the blueprint for teyvat's stars.

that wasn't the curious thing though. the curious thing was you. at first, you were just a means to an end. somewhere to stay until he adjusted to your world and then he would dip.

or so he thought.

he totally didn't expect this world to deal him a hand of cards in his favor. you sure are strange to him. you are well versed for some reason about where he has come from, so he didn't really have to explain anything to you.

once you got over the shock of him actually being here right in front of you, it didn't take him long for him to figure out that you are really, really in love with him. which stretched his ego in ways you couldn't possibly imagine.

so sue him if he used that to his advantage. it was sweet how often you dote on him.

needless to say, thanks to you, it was incredibly easy for him to adjust. your worlds mechanics are more similar to teyvat's than he thought.

as you would like to say, scaramouche was soaking up reality tv like a sponge. the overblown drama was the funniest thing in the world to him. and 95% of the time, these people did it to themselves. and he got to sit back and watch it all without even lifting a finger.

"i wish i could've taken you to a harbinger banquet. the drama that can be stirred up is just as good as this," he has probably what you would describe as a shit eating smirk on his face as he watched this woman cry about one guy she likes not returning her affection because she slept with his best friend.

scaramouche struggles to understand sentiment sometimes. this woman was waxing on about how she couldn't stop thinking about the guy she realizes she has more feelings for. about she even thought about him at night while she fell asleep. but she was losing sleep because she always was thinking about him.

"what is this shrew even talking about?" he scoffs, "she talks in a tone like all woman are like this. you either think about him while you fall asleep or you don't. how is she losing sleep thinking about him then?" he glances over at you, and immediately grits his teeth.

why did you have to look so cute right now?

you are having a delayed reaction of sorts. oh you heard every word he said, but you are still processing something he said before his rant. you had a soft, happy smile on your face while you fidget with your fingers. 'i can't believe he just said that to me. he said he wishes he could take me to a harbinger banquet. that would make it kind of like a date, right? should i bring it up later? or-'

"did you even hear a word i said?" scaramouche's voice cuts right through your pounding heart in your ears, and your racing thoughts.

"i think she is being truthful, at least in that respect," you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. things have been very hard for you lately to say the least.

you enjoy actually being able to dote on scaramouche in ways you thought you never would've been able to. he is a fictional character, this shouldn't be possible. but sometimes you can barely handle being in his presence. it really reminds you of how in love with him you really are. he just flusters you so much.

and it shows all over your face.

scaramouche's eyes widen for a moment. what was with you? you usually made fun of these people with him. but there was something about your voice that sounds different now. like you relate to what she said a lot. "oh?" he raises his eyebrow in indication for you to continue.

"mhm, i do think she is being truthful," boy, did you know what she was talking about. "i have lost so many hours of sleep thinking about you. what she meant by losing sleep is she tosses and turns in bed thinking some kind of activity will force her to stop thinking about him, but it doesn't work. she can only think about him while her tossing and turning keeps her from sleeping," once you start talking however, you can't seem to stop.

"i have lost so much sleep doing exactly that. there is not one girl, no scratch that. there not one person on this earth that doesn't have someone they lose sleep thinking about like that," you took a breath to steady yourself, very firm on standing your ground. any second you knew scaramouche was going to cut in so you have to quick.

"for god's sake, i barely sleep knowing you are in the room next to mine. especially when i know i would.." you trail off in a fit of shy. you can barely bring yourself to finish what you are saying.

that you knew you would sleep so much better if you could be curled up next to him.

scaramouche snorts, and taps his index finger on your lips. "i hear you up at night, you know," he teased, smirking as your eyes widen for a moment as the blush on your cheeks darkens.

"huh? you do? i tried to be as quiet as possible. the last thing i wanted to do was disturb you," how?! you worked so hard to stay quiet at night.

"it's not disturbing me. i just have extra sensitive hearing," you couldn't help but smile a little bit at his response. it was his bristly way of reassuring you. this is why you are so interesting. you just confessed to being in love with him without actually saying it. it feels strangely...nice to him when he has these moments with you.

"since you humans are fragile enough to need sleep, i will sleep in the same bed as you so that you can sleep. i am not opposed to it," he glares at you, daring you to protest.

"you aren't?" you reply with shy hesitation that he quite frankly found adorable.

"i don't like being in debt to people. so consider that as repaying my debt you," things would've been a lot harder for him without you. and it didn't even make sense to him that you stay in a separate room at night.

"you are such a man, scara. and i mean they in the best way," you reply, smiling at him. it startles scaramouche how much he has been anticipating your smiles lately. you usually look away shyly at moments like this. and he was glad you didn't.

oh please, go on. he knows how great he is.

"let's watch these people implode themselves more," he clears his throat and unpauses the tv. he didn't even realize he automatically did it when you started talking. he glances at you and sighs.

you seem unsure of what to do now. you kept giving him side glances, looking at him for some sort of guidance. he realizes he can genuinely get used to the feeling of you depending on him for once.

sighing, he put his arm around you, bringing your head to rest on his chest. he mimics breathing for you to relax

[iscdisc]

Little bit of a 2012 rant / tangent with this one- LMAO

I genuinely loathe the writers of this show painting Za-Naron (The Aeon that was housed inside of the crystal that April was given during Season 4-) as this "evil entity" or "evil being" when I genuinely disagree-??

It makes me sad because I feel like Za-Naron was more of a victim than the show acknowledges? My biggest reason for thinking this is because of the fact that things seemed fine / copesthetic with Za-Naron while April was still in Space. I also think it helped that they didn't stay in one place / planet for too long during the Space Arc, which could have also prevented any corruption with Za-Naron during that timeframe. But then when April returns to Earth, of course she's going to stay there permanently / for a WAY longer amount of time because that's her home. The show even states that Earth (More specifically humanity-) was the sole cause of Za-Naron's deterioration (From basically, "City At War" to "The Power Inside Her"-). Za-Naron couldn't just leave, you know-?? She was essentially powerless and helpless during this time, and was ultimately forced to be corrupted,,

I'm not saying that this was entirely April's fault, because it's not like April can control the fact that Aeons are kind of fragile to environments that don't necessarily benefit them- But I do think her attachment to the Aeon crystal and the fact that she enjoyed the power boost that she got from Za-Naron's power did play a significant part in Za-Naron's downward spiral,,

I also wish April wasn't painted as such a victim in this entire situation, personally-?? I know a lot of people like to point out that Za-Naron's corruption was the biggest reason as to why April was acting "out of character", but personally I disagree for two reasons. One, we've seen April have shitty moments before the Aeon crystal was given to her in Season 4 (Not that the show necessarily likes to acknowledge them as bad moments from her- 🙄). So it's not like she's entirely innocent or incapable of having these types of reactions / bad attitudes, not to mention the fact that it rarely gets addressed by her friends at all (And if we're being speculative I personally think she knows that they don't call her out on anything-?? That's why I personally think it was so easy for her to keep the crystal despite everyone pretty much acknowledging that it was bad for her, because when she tells them to leave her alone, they actually listen. But let this be any other character than April and they would've forcefully taken that crystal away post haste, dude. 💀). And two, April's still human at the end of the day- I feel like she should've been allowed to be an asshole and it not be because of some outside influence-? I think this would have been a great way to stray away from this "perfect / flawless" persona that they like to associate with her character so badly. April should be allowed to have moments where she acts out and does things that are messed up simply because she's having an immature moment / she's clearly still is growing as a person. Just like everyone else.

That's what's super upsetting about this entire Aeon crystal Arc with April for me, because I feel like instead of these writers painting April as a victim (yet again) of an alien possessing her / it being a, "There was nothing she could have done- Oh no ! Poor April ! 😢" type of scenario, this Arc should have been about her having a really terrible moment as a character and growing from it / truly taking accountability and solving the issue herself. I think this should have been about her feeling weak and growing attached to the power and competence she gained from Za-Naron / Za-Naron's power. This would have made sense?? Not only could this have been a good callback to April during Season 2 when she was expressing frustration with the Turtles always helping her during combat (i.e. "The Kraang Conspiracy"-), but we also had this issue be revisited in the same Season with "City At War" and her feeling incompetent / not where she wants to be yet again (Which "City At War" this is a whole other can of worms, because I hate this episode too. They could have done so many things differently, and I don't know why they chose to do this episode the way that they did- 💀).

I guess to summarize, I think April should've properly owned up to the fact that she did mess up as well in this situation (Because I know Za-Naron was not entirely innocent and her way of thinking wasn't okay, but I'm not surprised by that given that she's an ancient alien species and probably has a very straightforward / tunnel vision kind of logic-) and Za-Naron maybe should have been sent back to Space / her home planet to recover from such a traumatic incident. Or something. 👍 Lmao

[freyito]

Want to write for boothill? Then....remember how he reacted when he was called cute? That should be your starting point

✭ pairing(s): boothill x gn reader

✧ a/n: as always, boothill cannot live a peaceful existence around me and MUST have some sort of angst in any fic i write. youre welcome :D

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, GET SHIP OF THESEUS'D, little bit of hc work?, not proofread

✎ wc: 1.6k

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴅᴀʀʟɪɴ'

Boothill is a prideful man. You know that better than anyone. He doesn’t take much compliments, if at all. Perhaps ‘handsome’, or maybe even ‘dashing’, but he only really accepts them from you. A man of his standing can’t be called… ‘cute’. No, no. He’s rough ‘n’ tough, he’s manly, and on occasion, he’s pretty. But not cute, adorable, or anything of the sort. Don’t insult him like that! Not even when he comes home with a new getup, pretty in pink, even down to his medals.

Well, not that you cared. You called him whatever you wished, because he was cute. Especially when he was all pouty, acting indignant. This didn’t help him, of course, it only spurred you on to show him with as many adorable nicknames you could. ‘Boo-Boo’ in particular has always stunned him. He’d get this look, where his nose scrunched, giving you an awkward grimace (which often turns into a sheepish smile), and his face lighting up like a firecracker. He’d stammer and trip over his words, telling you to ‘knock it off, sugar…’, shake his head, and mumble something about how you can’t do that to a man’s dignity.

But you do. He won’t do much about what you call him, because deep down it sparks something akin to butterflies in his stomach. Or, at least, in what could be his stomach. It’s more like an odd quivering feeling within his wires that simulates adrenaline, and apparently, nerves! Boothill himself will never get used to it, but you’re quite taken with the effect you have on him, and the subsequent results.

He loves you, he truly does. And of course he’s willing to sit still and accept the fact that you won’t stop hurling such… endearing words at him. Yet, despite all his protests, all his pouting and shaking his head, he can’t help but admit (to himself, if he let you know, he would never hear the end of it) that he quite enjoys it. A man like him, who tossed his body away to become a killing machine, the hollow shell he inhabits created for the sole reason of revenge, considered cute? He hasn’t heard words like that directed at him in such a long time. Not since he was a kid, anyways.

When he looks into the mirror, all he can see is a weapon. Even the most human parts feel twisted to him, his teeth reinforced for… what reason? There was a point where he forgot why he had gotten all these augmentations, wondering if he truly needed to shed the entirety of his humanity. Truly, there was no need for sharper teeth, augmented tongue, and an augmented eye. Nor did he need a neurochip, his mind alone could’ve gotten him this far. And yet, he had still gone through with it. All this to kill one man, who has avoided him for so many years. How many more augmentations, or “upgrades” would he need until his dream of revenge was finally realized? What would happen once that happens? Perhaps, by then, he wouldn’t be so deserving of–

You wrap your arms around Boothill’s waist and rest your head on his shoulder. He flinches instinctively, before letting out a soft chuckle and reaching up to pet through your messy hair. There you two are, framed in the length of the mirror, and in an instant, he forgets about his earlier thoughts. 

You had just woken up, barely able to keep your eyes open, or your steps steady. Despite your blurry vision, you had caught Boothill standing there, staring solemnly at his reflection in the mirror. This kind of thing was all too common, and you regret to admit you’ve noticed his penchant to stare for too long. You don’t understand what’s going on in his head, but at this point, you’d rather just hold him. And hold him you do, burying your face in the crook of his neck like the measly morning light that had filtered through the curtains was just too bright.

“Awh, darlin’, why don’t you go back to bed?” Boothill murmurs softly, leaning his head onto yours. “Didn’t mean to wake you, and definitely don’t mean to keep you up.”

You groan and shake your head half-heartedly, squeezing his waist just slightly to emphasize your want to stay. Or, perhaps your stubbornness to let go. You peak out from his shoulder, shooting him a look that tells him all. ‘I won’t go back to bed without you’, or something of the sort.

“Don’t give me that look,” He chuckles, tilting his head a little so he could press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’ll be back in bed in a minute, okay? Just gotta… clean up…”

His voice tapers off as his gaze returns to the mirror, oddly transfixed on his teeth and eyes. You let go reluctantly, but you decide to stay close by. You stand next to him for a moment, looking up at him and watching the way he bared his teeth and leaned in. You raise your eyebrows, trying to decipher what was going on his head at the moment, to no avail. While he registers the fact that you are right next to him, he doesn’t say much else, focused on his reflection.

“Hey, cutie,” You mumble, deciding to take a page out of his book. He snaps out of his trance and stares down at you with that same, flustered look, his cheeks red as he tries his best to form a sentence, something to tell you off. Eventually, he gives up, shoulders slumping slightly as he allows himself to be defeated by such a simple word. “What’cha thinkin’ about?”

“I-It’s nothin’, hun. Just…” He shrugs, gesturing towards the mirror, then himself. “I think I’m… unhappy.”

You blink and stare up at him for a moment, surprised by those words. Boothill has always had his ups and downs, and around you, he was never afraid to ‘cry’, wallow, or anything of the sort. He could mournfully explain what happened to his home to you, he’d tell you he missed it, but you don’t think he’s ever said he was unhappy. 

“Ah, uhm… with me? With us? Or, like…” You point at his mouth, “Your teeth?”

“No! No, I could never be unhappy with you, sugar. Or the life we have– but, I mean, I guess the teeth are part of it,” He turns away from the mirror, gaze softened, almost sorrowful. “It’s my body… I ain’t insecure, or anything, and I know what I was gettin’ into. I mean, I chose this for a reason, but… I dunno. I don’t. Sometimes I start thinkin’ if it was worth it, and sometimes it scares me to think of what happens after.”

“After… what, exactly?”

“When I find that sunuva-nice-lady, and string him up by his pearls and show him what iron tastes like–”

“You’ll have me. We’ll have a life, we’ll have the same life we have now, or maybe even better.”

“I… I suppose we will… but I hate to be the bearer of bad news, when Oswaldo Schnieder is dead, my bounty’s only gonna get bigger. You know that.”

“I do, but, not to jinx it or anything, they don’t know where we are. We can live out our peace day by day by day… yada yada yada.”

Boothill pauses, and thinks about it. It’s nice, that kind of future. But he also understands that it won’t be possible. You do too. Not that you want to admit it, if you were to say it out loud, you feared that it would become true.

After a beat, Boothill sighs and wraps his arm around your waist, nudging you back to the bed.

“Well, it’s a bit too early to think about that, isn’t it. I’ve yet to find the dang clockstucker,” He huffs, shaking his head, before falling back onto the bed, hands behind his head. “Best we get some rest instead of talkin’ all grim-like. Ain’t good for our minds.”

You follow suit, laying down next to him with a huff, rolling over onto your side and staring up at him. He closes his eyes, as if pondering something, or perhaps trying to go to sleep. Granted, he didn’t need to. He just liked to play along with you, hold you close and cuddle up despite how ‘uncomfy’ he claimed his body to be. Yeah, metal and steel wasn’t exactly the softest material, but… you liked it all the same. At this point in the relationship, it felt normal. If anything, it’d feel wrong to hold anything else other than steel.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you reach out with your other hand and cup his face. His eyes flutter open near immediately, tilting his head ever so slightly and looking up at you.

“What’s up?” He smiles weakly, his bravado faltering. You know damn well that whatever was on his mind earlier was still haunting him, and you’d rather have him fight against being called the word ‘cute’, rather than this.

With a huff, you take your hand from his cheek, raking your fingers through his bangs before pushing them up and revealing the rest of his face. Taken aback, he blinks, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to decipher your goal. The eye that’s normally covered is damaged, torn a little at the edge, revealing some of the mechanized shell underneath. It’s not something he’s secretive about, you’ve known about it well before you two had started dating, but you didn’t see it much, and therefore, you were quite fascinated by it.

Before Boothill gets a word of protest in, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s small and fleeting, but it’s enough to earn you a blush and a confused look. His lips work to form a word, but he ultimately fails, body slumping slightly as he realizes exactly what you’re going to say.

“You’re cute, you know? Like–”

“I know, I know, sugar. Thank you.”

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[writingwisterias]

WAITER! WAITER! Need me different era leons reacting to reader starting sobbing during rather chill argument. Idk if this make sense😭😭😭 i mean like if theres no fights or loud talking during the argument, leon is just complaining and being real abt it but it hurts reader bc they are sensitive and they start crying

HIII!

I actually love this, I'm the type of person to cry out of anger and super sensitive LMAO! I hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: Arguments, comfort, GN! Reader

RE2:

You weren't really sure where the argument had come from at first, the day had seemingly turned out okay at first until you both got home

Maybe he was just overwhelmed from adjusting back to normality after the 2 years training

But it didn't mean he needed to pick at your outfit or just get annoyed at you in general

You tried not to let it get to you but after his 3rd comment you broke

His complaints weren't meant to be taken to heart but he forgot about how sensitive you were. How you haven't been through what he has

He's quick to change his tone, one that's more soothing and comfortable as he eases you.

Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, pressing you as close to him as he can in a hug to ensure you calm down with scent of him

He will apologize don't worry

RE4R:

It was barely an argument more of a disagreement over chosing the film to watch

He wasn't listening to why you wanted to watch your comfort film. Why today was hard so watching the horror he has lined up was not good

It was a short comment, one that you wouldn't have been bothered about normally but today you felt extra fragile

When he hears your sniffles he freezes in place it goes straight to his heart

He's smothering you with his love and affection because he feels bad, the comfort film is on and you won't be leaving his arms until he is sure you are okay

Infinite Darkness:

He's stressed at work, it's not his fault he's slightly short with you

And it's not your fault you didn't read his tone very well

He wasn't angry at you rather complaining about an ache he couldn't shake since his last mission

When offering ways to help he snapped saying that he could deal with it on his own

you didn't take offense to it understanding his need to be independent but it struck a nerve causing you to tear up

It only made it worse when he started to apologize and cuddle like you deserved it

You did. It wasn't your fault but somehow you wired your brain to think you made it worse for him

When you start sobbing he's moving faster to make sure you calm down, he knows your over reaction also isn't your fault and he should know to word his sentences differently

Damnation:

He didn't really notice that there was an off tone in his voice so he also didn't notice you were upset until he heard your sniffles

I think he would be confused at first a bit reluctant to give you the affection you needed to calm down but he's genuinely confused

He wasn't angry just annoyed at something and you are acting like he's stabbed your family member

Eventually he does comfort you and it's a long intimite comfort session.

I'm talking cuddling and running his fingers through your hair. He would apologise as well, its only a small gruff one but he knows your reaction isn't your fault.

He find it's cute how much you care, despite it being overwhelming sometimes.

RE6:

Again he relieves Raccoon City again almost within the events of the game

He keeps most of his composure until he gets home

You get the brunt of his anger and frustrations. Having to tip toe around him as he relives trauma.

It's not until you see he only acts this way with you that you snap. You can't help it you are angry with how he's treating you

I feel like hell attempt to come up with some bs that he's just that comfortable with you he shows a different side but he's not even falling himself

Promises to work on it and you have some understanding of his situation

You will get kisses and cuddles after

Vendetta:

He's a mess, you know it, I know it

So he's going to be snappy,short or even just not himself

He's really struggling at this point so when you do snap I think he's going to respond negatively at first

As he sees you grow more sensitive he will start to feel bad and it's actually his apology that makes you cry

The idea that even in his struggles he still cares about what you think is enough to make you cry

He's sorry for being a dick but also just confused at how him simply admitting that is enough for you to cry

Death Island:

Not in a harsh way but he would start to laugh, only because he finds it so cute

He's reassuring you that he's not actually angry his tone just doesn't always match his words or the joke doesn't come out the way he wanted it

His laugh makes you laugh and helps calm you down

I imagine he's very good at distracting you from everything that made you upset. A stable wall for you to use in order to calm down.

[breannasfluff]

Sam, Danny, and Tucker are all giggling as they run down the sidewalk even though no one is chasing them. The walk to Nasty Burger is familiar even after months away.

Danny shares some of his stories of Pam, grinning at the stars in Sam’s eyes. “You’d love her warehouse,” he gushes. “And probably DeeDee; she helps with the plants.”

Sam bumps his shoulder as she waves a fry. “So, when are we going to come to Gotham?”

“I mean…I don’t know how long I’ll be there.”

“What do you mean?” Tucker steals one of Danny’s fries from across the table, shoving it in his mouth before it can be grabbed back.

“Well, once the GIW are taken down I have to come home. There’s no reason to stay in Gotham when I should be here protecting Amity Park.”

“See?” Sam rolls her eyes at Tucker. “Told you we were chopped liver.”

“Hey!”

“Mmm, liver…”

Danny laughs, relaxing with his friends as they banter. He’s missed this–a lot. “I couldn’t leave you guys behind either. Or Jazz. And I do miss the Ghost Zone. Gotham doesn’t really have a lot of ambient ectoplasm.”

“Right. It’s just…” 

Sam takes over from Tucker. “You seem happier. Now. Even with everything going on there, you seem happier than you were here. To take a page out of Jazz’s book, I think being away from your parents is good for you.”

“They love me.” Danny takes a bite of his burger and keeps his eyes down to avoid the look his friends share.

“They can love you and still not be good parents,” Sam says gently. “Look at mine. They drive me up the wall but like, I still…love them.”

“Was that as painful to say as it looked?”

“Shut up.”

“Because it looked–”

She punches his arm. “Shut up!”

Read the rest here

[prettylynnpup]

The Neighbor

You'd been hearing tale on and off about someone moving in to that empty house across the street. These tales weren't new though - it seems like there'e been at least one "rumor" per year, and they've always been wrong.

At least, they used to be wrong. Until xe moved in.

9:30 PM, you'd just gotten off of work and finally made it home when you got a knock on your door. "Who the fuck would knock at 9:30?" You pondered to yourself. Because, as far as you remembered, nobody in this neighborhood would knock so much as past 6.

You walk to your door, not knowing what to expect, and you open it. On the other side of the door is a girl you've never seen before. Long black hair, a black dress, chains, some green accents, and a collar were the things you thought most notable about xer. You weren't sure why, but you were especially taken in by that collar, almost like it was stealing your vision away from xer beautiful-

"Hey, neighbor. I just wanted to stop by because I'm still meeting everyone in the neighborhood. Name's Fern."

*click*

Fern... You couldn't stop repeating xer name in your head, no matter how hard you tried. You could swear that you heard a click when xe said xer name, but you elect to ignore it. The name kept repeating and repeating, making it harder to think. At least, until xe waved a hand in your face.

"Hey! Earth to uh, whatever your name is, are you doing okay?"

'Yes! I'm splendid actually!' You wanted to say in response, but found yourself letting out a gentle bark.

"What was that? I think I misheard you?" Fern probes.

You bark again, more confidently.

"I guess I didn't mishear you then, did I?" A glimmer seems to appear in Fern's eye when xe realizes that, yes, you did just bark at xer twice.

"How about we operate like this: one bark for yes, two for no?"

You bark once in response. If you're not going to be able to use your words then goddamn it will you find another way to communicate with the gorgeous owner woman standing on the other side of your door.

"Do you know why it is that you're barking?"

You bark twice. No clue.

"So you didn't notice?"

You turn your head in confusion. Notice what? Did xe do something while you weren't paying attention?

"And you 100% don't remember me at all?"

You bark twice. 'No.' These questions were starting to get really strange. What did xe mean, remember xer? This is xer first time over to your door, right?

"Good. Good puppy."

*click*

A shock went down your spine as you felt yourself get turned on at that phrase. You were painfully embarrassed to be turned on in front of new company, and even more so by the thing that turned you on. Being called a good puppy? You'd never been into petplay - you tried being an owner for your last partner and it just really didn't work out.

Fern walks into your house, heading straight for your kitchen.

'Hey! What are you doing in here? Get out of my house!' Oh right, all you can do is bark. So, you follow xer around your house and bark and bark and bark while xe rummages through your cabinets.

"Puppy, sit."

Your body obeys. You're now on the floor, entirely against your own will. You try to get up, but your arms are so heavy and your paws hands feel so stupid.

"There we go!" Fern loudly announces as xe finds whatever it is that xe was looking for. After a few seconds of fiddling, xe moves behind you and your tail starts wagging gently.

Wait, you don't have a tail, right? How would you be able to feel wagging if you don't have a tail? What the fuck is going on?

*click!*

You feel something tighten around your neck... Your owner put your collar on! Yay!!! You love your owner and you're so glad that xe's back!

Wait... N-no, you don't... That's not right... Something's wrong...

"There we go, that's my sweet pet~"

You start panting... Owner's words feel so good... Maybe you should just fully give in, but only this once right? You won't submit any more after this...

*click!*

You feel a tug from your collar... Owner leashed you today! Thank goodness, you wouldn't want to get lost. Owner picks up a set of keys from the ground and locks that old house, and you and owner start the journey to xer house.

"Finally, fully my little puppy~"

Support me on Ko-fi?

[dreaminguponlilypads]

Can I request a male reader with tf141?I need some comfort so how would they comfort a crying reader or if he's having a panic attack?

ofcc!! hope youre feeling better now btw 💗💗!

STEADY, MATE.

male!reader x TF 141

It was happening again.

Your chest was too tight, your hands clammy and shaking. The air felt thick, suffocating, and no matter how hard you tried to breathe, it just wouldn’t come. The room spun around you, blurred at the edges, voices mixing into an overwhelming mess of sound.

Someone said your name. Too close. Too loud.

A hand landed on your shoulder.

You lashed out before you even registered what you were doing.

“Get off me!”

The shove was hard, fueled by panic more than strength, but it was enough to send whoever had reached for you stumbling back a step.

Soap.

His hands were still raised, his expression flickering with concern, but he didn’t move toward you again. Gaz had taken a step back too, glancing between you and the others, unsure whether to intervene or give you space.

Ghost stayed quiet, watching. Calculating. Ready to step in if necessary.

But it was Price who spoke first.

“Alright.” His voice was calm. Steady. “I won’t touch you. But I’m not leaving.”

You took a shaky breath, but it didn’t help. Your limbs trembled violently, your pulse hammering against your ribs. Your mind screamed at you to move, to run, to do something, but there was nowhere to go.

“You should.” Your voice was rough, barely above a whisper. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to glare at him. “Just leave me the hell alone.”

Price didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate.

“Not happening.”

You clenched your fists, the tension in your body unbearable. “I don’t need your help.”

“That so?” He exhaled slowly, crouching down so he was level with you, but keeping his hands in plain sight. “Because it sure as hell looks like you do.”

Something inside you twisted violently, frustration bubbling over. “I don’t need anyone!” The words tore out of you, raw and sharp. “I don’t need you! I don’t need any of you!”

A pause.

The others stayed silent. Soap shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say anything. Gaz looked away, jaw tightening. Ghost just watched.

But Price?

Price stayed.

He didn’t get angry. Didn’t take offense. He just studied you, quiet for a long moment before speaking again.

“That what you really think?” His voice wasn’t accusing. Just… knowing.

You opened your mouth—ready to snap back, to yell—but nothing came out.

Because the truth was, you didn’t know.

Your body was shaking so badly that your knees finally buckled, forcing you to sit before you collapsed entirely. You dropped your head into your hands, fingers digging into your scalp, trying desperately to ground yourself.

Price didn’t move. Didn’t try to force you to talk. He just sat there, letting the silence settle.

After a few long moments, he spoke again.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your breath hitching.

“You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain. You just have to breathe.” His voice was still calm, unwavering. “In for four, out for four. I’ll do it with you.”

You hated how much you wanted to listen.

So you did.

In—one, two, three, four.

Out—one, two, three, four.

It wasn’t perfect. Your breaths were still uneven, shaky. But you kept going. And so did he.

Eventually, the crushing weight in your chest started to ease.

And eventually, the panic started to fade.

When you finally looked up, Price was still there.

Not pushing. Not demanding. Just there.

You swallowed hard, your throat raw. “I—” You hesitated. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” Price cut you off gently, shaking his head. “Doesn’t change anything.”

Another pause. Then, Soap finally spoke, his voice lighter, trying to ease the weight in the air. “So… we good, or am I getting decked again?”

This man had to work on his timing.

You let out a weak, exhausted chuckle—barely there, but real.

Gaz rolled his eyes but smirked. Ghost just huffed quietly, shaking his head.

Price pushed himself to his feet, offering you a hand. “Come on. Let’s get some air.”

And this time, you took it.

[miwiheroes]

guys i got a really long ask from a mil even and im reading it knowing exactly what to say but i cba because they sent me over 900 words

i'll just say this:

Just because El has superpowers and likes having them doesn't mean that those should be the only things that Mike expresses his love about her

Mike cares about El and it is immediately assumed by multiple characters (Lucas and Nancy) that that must mean he is in love with her.

Mike says "in that moment i knew" as in: in that moment. okay?

Will's van scene was literally there to move the plot of Mike saying I love you to El forward. Him saying 'You're the heart' made him remember the speech (that was actually Will's feelings) which made him say I love you. What will happen when he finds out those were Will's feelings? Also -- he doesn't say 'maybe if i had said something different, she would have taken me with her' in the end he says 'maybe if i had explained myself'. Then Will goes onto saying that the truth can hurt people and Mike nods.

Will has expressed multiple times the pain of feeling like he can't be in love. He has expressed multiple times the idea of being in love with Mike forever.

Will is speaking about his own feelings in the van scene (bro i cant believe i have to say this oh my god) They could apply to El, yes, but Will doesn't truly know everything just as you said. Mike may find out that Will was speaking about himself.

El looks pretty angry to me tbh (when he calls her superhero again) also note the lightning strikes and how many times the directors want you to see how Will is feeling.

8. Vecna was weakened by Nancy and that team. Vecna completed his mission of opening the four gates in Hawkins. Max managed to survive because she remembered happy memories from El and Lucas. (aka the scenes where she says 'theres more to life than stupid boys' but okay)

9. "Did she talk to you at all?" "Not much."

yeah that got longer than i thought and i said 'i cba' oh well

[nova-anya]

previous || next

Transcript and Extras:

Transcript:

FIONA: What do you think, princess?

WILLOW: *gasping* Baby!! How did you do all of this?

FIONA: Magic.

WILLOW: Thank you, love. This was a really special surprise.

FIONA: Of course. You have been doing such a good job with your work and with the twins, love. I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate you and everything you do.

WILLOW: I don’t deserve you.

FIONA: (laughing softly) You know, I would have never believed I could ever trade the high rise apartments and nice pay raises for picnics at sunset and wildflower bouquets.

WILLOW: And yet here you are, with your beautiful fiancé and two babies waiting at home for you.

FIONA: You taught me about the parts of life that I never even knew existed. I didn’t even know how much I needed them until I met you.

WILLOW: (blushing) You only needed the softness. Not ambitions. Not goals. Just someone to nurture what was already in your heart.

WILLOW: You know... I’ve been thinking...

FIONA: That’s dangerous.

WILLOW: Rude!

WILLOW: Your parents.

FIONA (humming) Not exactly what I want to think about on our first date away from the boys...

WILLOW: Have they RSVPed for the wedding?

FIONA: Um. Not exactly. It’s fine though.

WILLOW: Is it fine? It’s your wedding... they’re your family. They should--

FIONA: (dryly) What? Be asking me about floral arrangements? Wedding gift ideas? Willow, sweetheart, have you heard me talk about my family?

WILLOW: (softly) I just want this day to be perfect. For both of us.

FIONA: It will be. We don’t need them to make our day perfect. Besides, I made my peace with them a long time ago. They’ve always been selectively supportive.

FIONA: Trust me, if I came home on the arm of a man, the plane tickets would have already been booked and our whole honeymoon to Sulani would have been taken care of. But our life? A little too much for them to handle.

WILLOW: (sighs)

FIONA: (adding quickly) Unless you want to attempt a last-minute intervention. You can show up in Willow Creek dressed as the world’s most respectable housewife.

WILLOW: (giggling) Oh yes, that’d go brilliantly. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Henriquez De La Flor, I am definitely not a free-spirited artist who intends to dance barefoot at your daughter’s wedding.”

FIONA: We’ll get you a handbag and a nice button-up like Mrs. Crumplebottom.

WILLOW: (giggling)

FIONA: I actually think you could make her outfit look pretty sexy...

WILLOW: FI! You are absolutely--

FIONA: At the end of the day, I don’t need them, princess. Any of them. Just you and the boys.

[heazueken]

Letting Go

*ೃ༄ summary: Jayce and Viktor have their part 2

warning(s): MDNI, explicit sexual content, oral sex, vaginal sex, ftm!viktor, knotting

pairing(s): Viktor/Jayce

w/c; 12.2k

a/n: i went a littleee overboard with this part 2 request of cured... did not mean to make it this long but! here we are! enjoy anon and everyone else! part 1 for those who didnt read :3

Translation list for Viktor:

Přesně tam - right there

Kurva - fuck

“Jayce, would you mind joining me later tonight in my chambers for uh…part two, if you will?”

The sentence played over and over in Jayce’s head like a broken record and he’s coming up on hour six of his work day. Viktor is still next to him, goggles on, focused and taking every few seconds to scribble down some runes and speak to himself quietly. He’s engrossed in his work and hasn’t spoken a single word to his vastayan partner in Gods know how long. Jayce is storming with more thoughts of nefarious things he could do to him, meanwhile Viktor sits there, earnestly working without so much as a glance towards the man next to him. Clearly he hadn’t been as affected by the events that transpired that morning.

Jayce had him on this very table just hours ago, fucking into him deeply, falling into the temptation of having Viktor all to himself and claiming him. When he glances over to Viktor he can’t help but be aware of the knowledge that under the clothing, there’s marks he left on his partner. It sends a shiver down his spine and he has to pull on the collar of his dress shirt to relieve the tightness of his tie around his neck. They’d been silent for so long that Jayce was too afraid to break it.

“Right, so, Viktor? When you said go to your place for part two did you really mean that? We have three more hours left and I just thought maybe we should go relieve some stress…” 

Well, that would just sound stupid and needy if he said that out loud. Plus, Viktor was never the type to leave his work ever. It’s Jayce who literally had to force him sometimes to go back to his apartment because he was not going to walk back into their lab to see the man slumped over a table and drooling on their research papers again (yes, Viktor has done that so many times now it was starting to be a daily thing). Jayce was hoping for once he could convince Viktor to sleep in his own bed tonight, he was only worried about his well-being after all.

Who is he kidding?

He wants Viktor on his back, wants to see him spread his legs and expose himself for Jayce. He wants to hold him down and fuck him like he’s never been before and hear his name fall from his partners voice in that soft, melodic tone. He wants to make him his, bite him and leave a scar that tells people he’s the property of Jayce Talis. He needs Viktor to know just how badly he wants him, his body calls to him like a moth to a flame and he doesn’t give a damn for getting burned because for Viktor it was worth it. Anything was worth fighting for when it came to his lab partner.

Jayce’s ears perk when he hears the grating sound of Viktor’s chair pushing away from the desk. He glances over to sneak a peek at him. He’s taken off his goggles, his jaw opening to release a yawn as he raises his arms above his head to stretch. Jayce can see just the edge of a hickey he left earlier on Viktor’s neck and it’s like something within him crawls its way forehead to the forefront of his mind.

Mine. All mine. 

Jayce has always been good at holding back the more undomesticated part of himself. It helped that there weren't many other vastayans in Piltover, or the fact that he didn’t really take any notice to anyone romantically. There was Mel Medarda, but that had faded so quickly he could barely remember the scent of her or why he had been so infatuated in the first place.

But Viktor…there was something about Viktor that made it so fucking difficult for Jayce to hold back. He’s almost scared of himself when he thinks back to that morning and the things he did to him. It wasn’t good for him to let himself be the beast that stirred inside him— that’s what he’s always thought. He had never truly let himself freely explore the animal side to him before, and Viktor had the makings to completely rewire his brain and bring forth the very monster he’d thought he conquered.

“You’re stiff as a board, Jayce. What’s with you?” Viktor’s creaky voice breaks his train of thought, and he looks to his partner who’s looking up at him with slight concern. Had he been standing here behind Viktor for that long for it to be weird? Oh, yes he had. He takes a step back and laughs awkwardly, his tail tucking between his legs slightly, the other taking notice with a glance downward before flickering back up to his face.

“Sorry, I— uh— lost in thought, I think.” 

He’d gotten a taste— no, not a taste— a mouthful of Viktor and he’s just supposed to act like that wasn’t a life altering experience? How could he go about the rest of his day normally when the man he had buried himself inside of sits in front of him like that didn’t happen and be completely normal about it?! Maybe Viktor just had more experience, maybe he just didn’t reciprocate the same intensity of feelings as Jayce did.

“You think…” Viktor trails, still looking at him like he’s hiding something from the older one. He points his chin in his direction. “What are you doing just lurking behind me?” 

“Nothing! Really! I was just…thinking…” He can’t stop himself from glancing back over to the table again and seeing Viktor’s naked figure laying there like he had been. Basking in the sunlight that drew its way into the room and highlighting the wonderful curves and moles riddled across his skin. Jayce practically begins to drool at the thought of it again. He doesn’t notice Viktor setting his goggles down and scooting out of his chair to get up. 

“I’m tired,” He announces, Jayce once again broken out of his trance just in time to see Viktor brush past him. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck and limps towards his cane. “Perhaps we should call it a day, hm?”

Jayce stares at the back of Viktor’s hunched over figure as he begins organizing a few stacks of paper and scraps of metal and gears that have yet to be sorted by size and usage. Something kicks within his brain, seeing him tired, drained, and messy with his wavy hair poking this way and that after hours of his delicate fingers running through it, setting Jayce in that classic “helper” mode no one ever needed from him.

“Viktor,” he gently says, and it sounds like warm honey on the other's ears, Viktor immediately turning to look at him. There’s a sparkle in his eyes like finally, finally Jayce is noticing him. 

“Uh,” Jayce falters, stopping himself from taking a further step towards his partner, but holding his hand out like he’s reaching for him. “I just—I wanted to—“ How is he supposed to even begin what he’s been ruminating all day? Walking Viktor back home, inviting himself into his apartment, helping him get undressed, bathing him, feeding him, laying with him, kissing him, feeling him up and spreading his legs and burying his—

“Sorry. Forget it.” He lowers his arm and his ears lay back into his hair completely hiding them from view. He ducks his chin into his chest and screws his eyes shut.

He doesn’t want to assume anything, doesn’t want to pressure or push too much. He knows they had just been close in the most intimate way possible and yet he couldn’t get himself to ask Viktor if he truly meant what he had said; “Jayce, would you mind joining me later tonight in my chambers for uh…part two, if you will?”

That had to be a joke, right?

Viktor’s jaw clenches and Jayce can feel the tension rise in the room. He can barely meet the older one’s stare but catches a glimpse of the harsh pain and disappointment that flashes across his eyes before he parts his lips to say something.

“Okay, well, I’ll be seeing you…whenever, I suppose.” He grabs his coat and only the sound of his shoes and cane clicking on the floor can be heard. Jayce waits until the sound finally fades to release his breath and let his tense shoulders fall.

He looks over to the clock and sees they still had half an hour before they were going to close up shop and head out for the night. He hangs his head in shame feeling like he’d done everything wrong, slumping into the chair Viktor had just been in. It’s still warm from his body heat and he can still smell his sweet scent. Jayce stuffs his face into his hands and mourns what could have been a good night. 

Later that week Viktor completely disappeared. On the first day Jayce wasn’t too worried, he was used to this sort of thing and Viktor never stayed away long enough for him to really grow concerned. But when he spoke to Sky on the sixth day his mild anxiety turned into full blown panic. 

“Hey, uh, Sky?” He starts as he hunches over some of Viktor's lab journals and deciphers the runes. Sky turns to him with files in her arms.

“Y-yes?” He rarely ever speaks to her, especially lately and since— well…what had now happened a week ago. 

His ear twitches as he forms his questions. “You…hang out with Viktor outside the lab, right?”

He doesn’t see it but Sky is perplexed by the question, her brows furrowing as she places her thumb and forefinger on her chin. 

“I mean,” she laughs awkwardly in a way where Jayce can practically see the blush on her face without even turning towards her. “Sometimes? He’s only asked me for some drinks like twice and every time he goes way too overboard and I have to take him back home.” Her words slow as she speaks, like shame creeping up on her. They’re both quiet for a little.

“He talks about you when he’s drunk…” She admits like she hadn’t wanted to say it and he knows why. It was clear to her that Viktor had no interest in her and he was probably just asking her to come along because who else would? 

Jayce’s ears perk and that’s when he finally tears himself from decoding to look over his shoulder at her. 

“What?”

Sky stands there and hunches her shoulders inward, her feet drawing close together and ducking her head just slightly to make herself look smaller. Like if she could, she would disappear right now instead of having to admit that the man she loved did not love her back.

“He only ever talks about you when he gets really drunk. Like—like last time, he went on and on about you and how…how much he likes you.”

A beat. Jayce has to take in the information and his tail swats to the right a few times, the gears in his mind beginning to turn and creak.

“That can’t be.” 

“Well, you asked.” Sky replies with a short tone, pushing her glasses over the bridge of her nose and making her way to the door. “I better go now. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait—“ Jayce has more questions and reaches out to stop her, but Sky is already slamming the door shut, her footsteps fading down the hall in quick succession. He lets out a loud sigh and slams Viktor’s journal shut. He runs his claws through his hair, vigorously messing up its clean cut look and ruffling it in frustration. What the hell was happening?

It’s the next day when Viktor once again doesn't show up that he finally decides to take action. Jayce had been all alone for a full week now, barely making any progress with their new project they’ve been tweaking for the upcoming Progress Day. The biggest day of their career and Viktor has still been abandoning his duties as Jayce’s partner!

He should be furious, he should be marching to his apartment and demanding an explanation— and if he’s not home, then he would have to storm around Piltover in hopes of finding him. Turn every stone in the Undercity to find his partner. He should grab him by the collar of his shirt and force him back to the lab. But Jayce isn’t capable of that. He’s not mad at Viktor in the slightest, he blames himself for it all. He gave in and put his friend in a predicament— it’s his fault something came between the two of them. He never meant for that to happen.

He needs to see Viktor.

It’s 7:30PM and Jayce is at Viktor’s apartment door. 

The welcome sign he had made for him still hangs outside and he smiles at it warmly. Viktor had mentioned once that he never had much of anything that gave his home a comforting feeling (perhaps that’s why he rarely ever went home after work and spent his endless nights in the lab). Jayce had listened intently and began his metalworking. He spent hours on many things; first— the welcome sign and he made a butterfly out of different colored metals that sits reverently on the ‘W’ of Welcome. Second— a pair of bookends. Viktor had mentioned his endless piles of books, journals and memoirs. Jayce thought it would be a good idea to make a few pairs of book ends in order to keep his books safe and secure. Viktor had mentioned his favorite bird to be a mourning dove and Jayce took that as inspiration for his hand crafted gift. Two mourning doves now frame and protect his precious readings. And finally the third— Jayce had meltworked a figure of one of Viktor’s childhood friends that he found in the Undercity one day; An abandoned, worn down golem that he had called Blitzcrank. He went off on a whole tangent once about the way he found it as a child, how he often dreamed of piecing it back together, making it new and finding some utilization for it to help the people of the Undercity. Jayce discovered a newfound admiration for Viktor that day and he spent two whole days perfecting a mini figure of the golem and gave it to his friend on his birthday.

He knocks a couple times and no answer. He waits the appropriate amount of time that he assumes it would take for Viktor to get to the door before he knocks again. Still no answer.

Jayce isn’t the type to give up that easily but if Viktor wasn’t answering him, well, he’d just have to pack it up and try again tomorrow. Worry nags at the back of his mind and he tries not to think of all the terrible things that could have happened to his friend during their— are they fighting? Quarrel isn’t the right word…perhaps avoidantness? Whatever this thing was. He tries to reassure himself that Viktor is more than capable by himself and Jayce just needs to back off and give him room to breathe for a moment. He’ll come back when he’s ready.

He heads back to his own apartment. Now at 8:13PM he gets his keys out in anticipation to get into his home when he sees a familiar figure standing at his door.

Viktor stands there, slumped with his forehead on the door. His mouth is moving and mumbling something while he tries to jam his key into Jayce’s lock. What is he doing? Jayce begins to make his way to him quickly. His tail begins swaying back and forth with hope. 

“Viktor!” He exclaims and his friend slowly turns to look at him. He looks…Jayce doesn’t want to say terrible but he’s never seen him so disheveled in such a way where he almost didn’t even recognize the man he spends most of his waking hours with. 

“Are you okay? What are you doing here?” His hand reaches out as a slew of questions pour out of him.

His hair is the messiest he’s seen it, chunks cling together in a greasy mess like he hasn’t washed his hair in days, his eyes are barely open and they’re bloodshot, purple smears across his lower eyelids in proof of his sleepless nights. His cheeks are sunken in, he looks ghostly pale and barely even registers Jayce and has to lean in close to get a good look at who’s speaking to him before he can reply. Jayce smells it then— the alcohol imbuing his nostrils, soaking into the roof of his mouth and down his throat. He can’t stop the scrunch of his face at the smell. He’s drunker than ever before.

“Jayce? What are you doing at my apartment?” His accent gets thicker the more he’s drunk— Jayce notices but can’t dwell on it for too long because what?

“Your apartment? Vik, this is my apartment. You’re sticking your key into a lock that doesn’t even fit.” He gestures to the uncoordinated way Viktor is lazily jamming his key over and over into Jayce’s doorknob. He looks down at what he’s doing and slowly pulls his hand away. 

“I…I hadn’t realized I walked all the way over here…I’ll…I…” He stuffs his key into his pocket and stumbles backward from the door to give himself enough room to turn towards Jayce. He trips on his own cane in the process, his right foot bumping into it and he releases a small yelp as he loses his footing.

Before he can succumb to the hard pavement below, Jayce’s quick reflexes catch him just in time. The cane falls with a metallic clang and it echoes through the corridors of doors. Jayce’s strong arm hooks under Viktor’s shoulders, the other wraps around the front of his torso and his large hand wraps around the entirety of his bicep. The adrenaline coursing through him isn’t enough to sober him up but his eyes widen as he locks eyes with his Vastaya partner.

“Careful!” Jayce exclaims. “My Gods, you scared me half to death.” He wants to ask him why he’s standing at his doorstep, why he’s drunk and alone, why his clothes look like he’s been wearing them for at least three days and why he looks so sad.

“C’mon,” He helps him back to his feet and pats his back gently. “Just come inside, let me help you.”

He lets Viktor step out of the safety of his arm and he shakes his head. “No, I…I shouldn’t. I don’t need you babying me like—“

“Viktor, you almost just bashed your head in outside of my place. I’m not letting you leave without at least sobering up a little.” He reaches back out and grabs his shoulder this time and pulls him to his side. He unlocks his door and pushes it open, letting Viktor go in first.

He’s slow to enter his apartment. They didn’t frequent each other's places often, he could count on one hand how many times he’s stepped inside Jayce’s home— being drunk, though, was a first. 

Jayce’s home is warm. Incredibly warm and he wonders how he could keep his place so fucking hot. He has carpets on wooden floor boards and Jayce insists he take his shoes off before he steps over the threshold of the step that leads into his living room. His socked feet pat over soft carpet and Jayce leads him to the brown cotton couch where he sits him down. Viktor knows Jayce always has a pot of tea ready to be boiled every time he comes home. He’s expecting to be handed a cup of warm tea but when his vastaya friend comes back with two cups he’s wondering what the contents are.

“Ice water,” It’s like he’s read his mind. He lifts his left hand holding the water and he hears the clink of the ice hitting the walls of ceramic. He sets it down at the coffee table in front of Viktor and then sets the other one down. “Coffee, with extra sugar and cream.” He turns the handle towards him.

Jayce is really good at remembering what people like and him remembering something as simple as Viktor liking his coffee extra sweet tugs at his heart strings and he feels sick. His heart rises to his throat and becomes frozen solid.

“Thanks,” he chokes and gently reaches for the cup of coffee first. It’s perfect and the warmth of the drink soothes the frozen heart in his throat, it begins to thaw almost immediately and he breathes once more. His mind is still muddled and his vision isn’t all there but he feels the dip in weight on the couch beside him. He turns to see Jayce sitting next to him.

“Make sure you drink the water, too.” His voice feels millions of miles away in Viktor’s ears but he knows he’s only a foot away from him. His vision blurs and he sees three pairs of Jayce’s ears, they turn towards him, erect and alert to any sound or word that comes from him. His tail is fluffy and makes a makeshift wall between their thighs, stopping them from touching. In his inebriated state, Viktor lays his hand over it and gently pets it.

Jayce, unsure of what to do, lets him continue his petting. It feels good, if he’s being honest and he’s embarrassed with himself over it. 

“Soft,” Viktor mumbles. It feels like the softest material known to man, he could sit here and pet it for hours. The other smiles gently and places his large fingers around his wrist, he lifts his arm to stop him.

“Drink, Viktor. You need to shower.”

Reluctantly, he takes large gulps of water and takes a few more shy sips of his caramel colored coffee.

Jayce is too timorous to begin asking why Viktor had been so avoidant for the past week and he decides to kick it into helper mode because taking care of his friend is more important than figuring out the reason for some quarrel of theirs. It’s easy for him to set aside any ill feelings and focus on the wellbeing of his drunk lab partner. He reaches over to pat Viktor’s leg.

“You well enough to shower by yourself?”

It finally registers in Viktor’s brain.

“Shower? Where? Here?” He points downwards, eyebrows hitched up on his forehead and eyes wide. Jayce gives him a firm nod and places a firm grip on his shoulder.

“You’re going to shower, drink more water and stay here for the night.” His cheeks immediately blush and Viktor’s shoulders shrug his hand off and he shakes his head. He begins to get up.

“Jayce, no, no, I’m not. I-I can’t do that— you…I know you’re just— oh, nevermind.” 

“Viktor,” He grips Viktor’s shoulder again and uses his animalistic strength to keep his ass snug on the couch. He feels bad using it but this is for his own good. “You’re drunk. You can’t go home like this and you clearly haven’t been caring for yourself this week!”

Viktor smacks his hand away instead and his brows furrow, his face contorting into one of anger.

“Quit pretending, will you?!”

Pretending?

“What?” Jayce is clueless.

“You barely even looked at me after we had sex! Barely spoke a word! You’re ashamed to be with me, admit it!”

Still clueless. “What?!” He says with more gusto. 

“Barely spoke a wo— ashamed? Me? Ashamed of you? I…I thought— how could you think that?”

Viktor can’t even look at him.

“After we…you barely spoke a word.”

“I was shy,” Jayce exclaims. “It had been awhile for me and…and you were… everything and when you invited me over I was waiting for you to mention it again and you never did!”

“Didn’t think I had to again!” Viktor spits out. 

Jayce, defeated, lets his head drop. “I’m sorry, Viktor. I just got overwhelmed and…and I guess I didn’t realize I had hurt you.”

There’s a long silence and Viktor sighs.

“No. It was me. I left you and avoided you for a week.” He rubs his thumb over his brow bone and contemplates his next few words.

“I’m sorry, Jayce. I guess I was scared you felt indifferent after our coming together.”

“I’d never. I…I had been thinking about it all week, actually.” He chuckles awkwardly, running a hand through his hair and daring to look back at his friend. They look to one another, cheeks blushing red and nervous clammy hands in their own laps. Viktor gives him a knowing smirk.

“Really?” His ears are flushed red from the alcohol and they only increase in intensity at the implication of Jayce’s words.

“Really.” He confirms. He thinks for a moment, Viktor is in his house right now. He’s sitting a foot from him, he might even spend the night and they could…No! He’s in no state!

“You need to shower!”

Viktor’s still inebriated mind jumbles and he was almost too caught up in the thoughts of Jayce taking him right on this couch to realize how badly he stinks after wallowing in his own misery for 7 days. He has to agree.

“Right. Sorry. Show me where?”

Jayce leads him to the bathroom and he even grabs a pair of his sweats and a shirt for Viktor to change into when he’s done.

He showers quickly, using Jayce’s shampoo in the process and it smells like cedar and mint and like Jayce. He thinks back to that morning in the lab and how deeply he was inside him that night. He could touch himself right in this very bathroom, rid himself of his arousal— but that was wrong wasn’t it? In Jayce’s home? It almost excites him further but he knows nothing could suffice except for his Jayce.

While Viktor is tormenting himself with ideas, Jayce is pacing his living room. His partner's scent is everywhere. It’s on the couch, on his clothes he wears, his hands, by the front door, it’s in his senses and it suffocates him. His sweet vanilla scent has taken over the glands inside him and something about it has his composure crumbling, his mouth waters and he’s ashamed to know he can feel himself grow hard in his pants. 

Being a vastaya has its perks, he can hear better, smell better, his reflexes are more refined than the average person, he has great balance due to his tail and his ancient senses can warn him of any nearby danger. 

But, there was one small problem and that was his libido.

Having animal-like attributes didn’t just mean his superior senses— it meant he had the sexual tendencies of an animal too. For a long time it was easy for Jayce to resist those urges, he had never found someone he felt compatible with to the point where he felt like…well, mating with them. But Viktor had changed all of that.

Having him in the man’s home, showering in his bathroom, wearing his clothes, sitting on his couch and drinking from his cups. It’s like a switch went off in Jayce’s brain and suddenly he was in full heat. He can’t say he’s ever felt this way about anyone and holding back these feelings are proving to be too difficult.

It only gets worse when Viktor steps out of the bathroom in Jayce’s clothes.

They practically swallow him whole. His shirt which has his high school crest on it is wrinkly and drapes over Viktor’s small shoulders like a sheet. His sweatpants are much too large and he has to grab a fistful of the fabric and hold it up so as to not expose himself right here in Jayce’s living room. His hair drips water and soaks into the shirt, discoloring it and he actually looks much fresher, like the life in his eyes finally came back and the heat of the water encouraged the blood flow through his cheeks. Or maybe he’s just blushing profusely— either way Jayce felt a sort of pride for being the one to help Viktor.

“Thank you,” is the first thing the older says. He pats his way closer to Jayce and can’t seem to make eye contact. Neither can the other. 

“I…I feel bad.” He admits and Jayce goes to ask why but Viktor continues. “I shouldn’t stay the night, Jayce.” He’s sobered up somewhat since his words aren’t slurring together anymore. 

“You can’t go home alone. I won’t let you.” He’s stern and it surprises both of them. Jayce’s back straightened and his hands curl into fists at his sides. He realizes his harsh tone almost immediately— he’s becoming too possessive again. He relaxes.

“I’m sorry. It’s just—“

“I get it.”

It’s quiet again. Both of them stand there awkwardly and Viktor shivers slightly at the water cooling in his hair. Not even the heat of Jayce’s home could diminish the inevitable shock of cold after stepping out of the shower soaking wet. Jayce notices this.

“Oh—! You must be cold!”

“Jayce, wait—“ He’s already gone into his bedroom and comes back with a large hoodie in his hand— another thing Viktor will be swallowed into. He can’t decline the offer now (not that he would be able to anyway.) “I really can’t stay.”

This crushes Jayce and it’s hard for him to not show it with the way his entire demeanor seems to shift. His body looks too heavy to carry all of a sudden, his tail curls between his legs and his ears turn downward with defeat. 

“I understand.” His ears perk up a little bit with an idea like a lightbulb shining over a cartoon character’s head. “I’m walking you home.”

Viktor takes a step backward and lets out a breathy laugh as he speaks, “That’s not necessary.” 

“No. It is.” It’s final. No arguing, no pushing back. Jayce knows what’s best and Viktor will not be able to have a choice in the matter. Something about his tone is enticing and excites the eldest in a way.

It’s a silent walk, much like most of their night and the palpable tension can be felt by the both of them like the fog that surrounds them as they round the next block to Viktor’s apartment. Viktor leans heavily on his cane, limping as his other hand clutches the waistband/fabric of Jayce’s borrowed sweatpants to keep them up. Jayce wonders how he managed to walk so far so drunk without tripping. Little does he know the amount of times Viktor had to pick himself back up because of  how often he stumbled over his own two feet in his drunken state. He’s much more sober now and there’s still a wobble in his step and his eyesight still isn’t all there but at least he’s not traveling the streets alone drunk anymore. He’s sober enough to be embarrassed that he walked all the way to Jayce’s apartment to be then escorted back to his own like some lost puppy.

It’s when they get to the door that Viktor suddenly feels his body start to give out. The events of the night have caught up with him and he leans his full weight into the door as he unlocks it. Jayce is preparing himself to catch him again if need be when he turns the doorknob but his partner’s got a good grip on the handle and uses it as a crutch.

He doesn’t usually flip the lights on but knowing his furry friend isn’t as familiar with the interior of his home, he does and he kicks off his shoes. Jayce, with politeness, sets his own by the door and steps further into his place.

The scent is the first thing he notices. Warmth, cider, cinnamon and that whiff you get of a new book you open for the first time. There’s hints of sweet vanilla coffee that he knows Viktor brewed just earlier that morning. It fills his chest with a rapture he can’t contain. It’s just so Viktor.

He’s pleased to notice the little figure golem he made right by the front door. It holds its fist into the air and Jayce can see Viktor has utilized it to hold his keys. He smiles towards it and his ears rotate towards the sound of his partner's voice.

“What’s got you so excited?” 

He tilts his head curiously. “Huh?” Viktor tilts his chin and his eyes drop to below Jayce’s waist.

“Your tail is wagging,” he laughs. Blush dusts both of their cheeks. He didn’t even realize it and he immediately stops the wagging then clears his throat.

“Sorry…”

“It’s okay. It’s cute.” 

He doesn’t know how to handle that comment despite knowing he was inside this man just a week ago. 

Viktor tells him to help himself to anything as he turns the corner into a hallway towards what he can only assume is his bedroom. Jayce does not follow but he stands at the entrance and notices that Viktor kept his bedroom door open.

Help himself to anything. He can’t assume that meant waltzing into his room, laying him down and burying his mouth into his cunt was considered anything even though that’s pretty much all he wants at the moment.

He turns towards Viktor’s living room to browse the bookshelves he has on display against his walls. They’re tucked into a corner and a dark red velvet chair sits with a small side table beside it. He notices the mug atop it with coffee staining the inner walls. His eyes trail over the wall of books and that’s where he notices the handmade bookends framing what he recognizes as the elders favorite books. He lets his tail wag freely knowing no one can see.

His eyes dart down to an open book on the seat and he barely takes in the contents before he’s letting them wander somewhere else— but wait— he does a double take and looks back down at the book.

A drawing is shown on the open page. A sketched drawing and color coded diagram of a species of a male vastaya lies on one of the pages. It’s Jayce’s species. Lines connect to body parts and point to a scientific word and Jayce’s eyes linger over a paragraph describing the workings of the body and how it’s different from the human body.

Then he glances to the next page.

Sex Anatomy of the Vastaya

A diagram of a penis is shown and Jayce’s cheeks burn hot like the fires of Ornn. It’s not like he isn’t familiar with what’s being shown! But this book is in Viktor’s apartment, open and on a seat which means he’s been reading it! Which means—

Jayce looks at the diagram. It shows the way a normal human penis becomes erect with a vastaya’s next to it. There’s one big difference between the two.

Vastaya’s penis’ become enlarged at around the middle point of the shaft. It looks sort of like a ball, like a hump and it becomes extremely sensitive. Jayce is curious to see what the segment says about it.

The knot becomes sensitive to the touch and is primarily used in cases of mating. This is when the male vastaya becomes aroused to the point where the goal of the knot is to ensure the likelihood of conception. The knot acts as a plug inside a vaginal canal to increase the chances of pregnancy. 

Now, Jayce has never experienced such a thing himself. He knew he was capable of it, but like the textbook says, it is only during mating or in intense instances of high emotions. Basically, if he’s horny enough he could produce a knot.

But one thing nags at the back of his mind as he reads; Why is this book in Viktor’s collection? Is this sort of thing like his morning paper? Surely not. He can’t even picture him sitting there with this book in his hand. What does he even gain from having the knowledge of the way vastayans mate? There’s no gain for him, is there? 

He shuts the book, unable to read any more (he already knows most of this anyway) and he looks back over his shoulder towards the hallway that leads to Viktor’s room. Worry suddenly bubbles up in his stomach and it churns into anxiety. He needs to check on him.

He makes his way into the room. The lights are off and the room pitch black, but Jayce can see enough. Viktor lays on his bed, eyes fluttering shut and hugging a stray pillow on his messy bed. It’s unmade and his sheets hang off the bed and pool to the ground- he didn’t even bother tucking himself in. The vastaya takes a quiet step forward, reaching his bedside and grabbing for the sheets. He straightens it and looks down at the lying figure.

He looks so cozy in his clothing. He’s let the sweatpants fall so now he’s just in his boxers and Jayce’s t-shirt that’s already ridden up his waist to expose the expanse of his back. He notices the metal following the path of his spine and wonders for a moment where his back brace went. He doesn’t wonder too long though because Viktor for once looks peaceful and he could never disturb that.

He lays the sheets delicately over Viktor and makes sure he’s well tucked before taking a step away.

“See yah.” He whispers affectionately and turns around to leave.

There’s a shuffle, limbs rubbing along fabric and all of a sudden Jayce is being tugged by the end of his tail. 

“Hey—!” His ass falls against the bed and he looks over to Viktor who’s got one eye open and looks up at him with a slight pout.

He parts his lips like he’s going to say something but when Jayce slowly pries his hand off his fur he shuts his mouth for a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers to his partner.

“Can…” Viktor looks uncertain and he hides under the covers. “Will you stay…?”

Gods, it’s cliché and Jayce shouldn’t spend the night. He can’t think straight with Viktor’s scent suffocating his senses and seeing him in just his shirt has already got him breaking into a sweat. He really shouldn't spend the night…

“Of course I will.”

Fuck, how can I say no to him?

Despite asking him to stay and clearly inviting him onto the bed, Viktor doesn’t cling to him. He’s never been a very physical person nor has he been very intimate. Even during their escapade in their lab he didn’t linger for any kisses, soft touches or any of that pillow talk. It’s just the way Viktor is. But Jayce knows he at least can be touchy with him. So, he wraps an arm around Viktor’s torso and tugs him close until they’re spooning and the smaller one can feel Jayce’s thumping heart.

It’s soothing and he’s already falling into a deep sleep.

Jayce is the first to wake up. He’s not very shocked to see Viktor still slumbering beside him, but their limbs tangling together has him pleasantly stunned. In the middle of the night Viktor turned over and wrapped his arm around Jayce’s waist and shoved his thigh in between his to perfectly shape his body against the other. 

He peels himself away from him even if it does emotionally hurt him to do so. But he needs to piss and he can’t linger here for long. Drunk on his scent and the view of Viktor’s torso half exposed to him to the point where he can see the beginnings of the scars on his chest has him already worked up.

It doesn’t help that he fell asleep half hard and it doesn’t help any further waking up with his lab partner curled into him and sleeping soundly. Something about seeing him so peaceful and knowing he’s the cause for it has Jayce feeling that possessiveness over Viktor once more. 

He finds Viktor’s bathroom and it’s unpleasant to piss when hard but he has no other choice.

Jayce quietly steps back into the room, Viktor’s back is to him and he assumes he’s asleep. He bends down to grab his sock that fell onto the floor— he’s always losing those in his sleep. He turns to leave then.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” Viktor’s accent is thick and it's riddled with exhaustion but there’s that hint of amusement. Jayce gasps and his eyes widen, his tail sits perfectly still and stands to attention in shock. The man who he had assumed was asleep, turns over and rests on his elbow, he looks at Jayce with stern brows.

“You were just gonna leave me?” 

“I…” Yes he was but he can’t admit that now. They both know the answer to the question but Jayce still lies. “No, no, of course not. Sorry…” He takes a seat on the bed. His tail lays comfortably across the bed and it rests over Viktor’s legs atop the blanket covering him. His delicate fingers instinctively card through the soft fur and Jayce struggles to stop the love sick grin on his face. It’s intimate, the way his fingers feather the brown fur and how soft his eyes become when they look at each other for a moment.

There’s something unspoken between them, it doesn’t need to be said especially since Viktor made his feelings for Jayce very clear their first time together. But Jayce needs the confirmation again. He rests a hand on the bed and leans in a little to talk softly to the man beneath him.

“Did you really mean what you said back then in the lab?”

Puzzled, Viktor looks at him with a cocked brow.

“What did I say?”

He blushes and looks off to the side. “Well, you…invited me for…part two of our…part two of when we—“

“Yes, I did mean it.” Viktor’s tone is very matter of fact and holds no tomfoolery. He’s firm with his answer. There’s a nod from Jayce who still can’t meet his eye.

“Were you…wanting that?”

Jayce is a little too eager with his answer and his tail escapes from Viktor’s fingers to thrash back and forth. 

“Yes! I do want it!”

Viktor struggles to hold in a laugh, clasping his hand over his mouth. 

“Okay, well, we can do that—“ Suddenly the covers are being ripped off of him and Jayce is inserting himself between his thighs, both huge hands on either knee and separating them from each other to fit his large frame. Viktor looks at him with wide eyes and in the crack of light seeping in from between curtains he sees Jayce as the animal he is in this moment.

Ears flicker atop his head, angling downwards with a predatory look to them, his eyes gleaming with determination. He shifts so he’s closer to Viktor.

“We do this now.” He can’t wait. Not when his partner is still in his clothes, not when he’s inside his home, on his bed and taking in Viktor’s entire scent and consuming as much as he can as he loses control of his coherent self. 

“Yeah…alright…we do this now…” Viktor is too stunned to speak more. Curiosity gets the better of him and he inspects Jayce as he gives him the okay.

“Do whatever you need…” He says with a small voice, his words slurring together much like the night before only this time arousal is the cause. He has a slight headache and he knows if it weren’t for Jayce making him hydrate and relax he wouldn’t even be able to get out of bed, let alone engage in sex.

It’s criminal to be up this early, but anything is worth it when Jayce is this needy. 

Viktor watches Jayce’s moves with a calculation, he’s read up on some of these animalistic tendencies the vastaya have and he’s curious to see Jayce finally relent and let this side of him control him.

He does just that.

Jayce presses his hips against Viktor’s and they groan in unison of the feeling of his hard-on pressing into the other's core. He’s still just as large and Viktor’s still amazed for even being able to fit him inside. He doesn’t worry too much about that when Jayce begins grinding into him, his hips thrusting like a dog in heat.

A whimper drips from between Jayce’s lips and his eyes shut tightly, his hips move with expertise and he runs his length up and down Viktor’s clothed slit. The man beneath him lets his body go slack and he breathes heavy, his entire body submitting to the animal above him. His thigh is being grabbed and Jayce digs his claws into his skin so roughly that he almost draws blood. 

Viktor dares to look up at Jayce, his eyes adjusting to the darkness and barely seeing the red blushing his cheeks, down his neck and what chest is exposed. His arms are thick and veins travel up them, large and straining against skin as he gives it his all to thrust. Viktor can feel himself becoming wetter with each press into him and feeling Jayce’s girth. A growl comes from deeply within his chest and Viktor moans at the sound coupling with the sensation of his claws on his pale, soft skin. 

“Jayce—“ Viktor gasps, “Jayce…ahh…” Jayce drops to his elbows, his back arched and hips never relenting. He leans down and presses his mouth into the crook of his partner's neck, his scruff is rough against the other’s jaw and his eyes roll back at the sensation. Jayce’s lips part and his sharp canines press into the skin where his jaw meets his ear and he runs his teeth flush against the skin. Viktor begins gasping and he wraps his arms under his armpits and grabs fistfuls of his shirt on his back.

The room— despite always being freezing— begins to heat up much like Jayce’s apartment, only it wasn’t the heater. Their very bodies pushing together and hot breaths mixing and combining together cause their space to warm and Viktor was already beginning to feel his skin dampen with desire and sweat. He lets out a drawn out moan, high pitched and winey when Jayce clamps his teeth on skin and wraps his lips around to suckle on his delicate skin. It hurts but it hurts good, he can ignore the aching of his back and his leg cramping when he feels that thickness drag across his damp boxers. Gods, Jayce is as girthy as his thigh, perhaps even more.

Jayce’s chest rumbles with a growl of need, his mind becomes muddled with arousal and he can’t seem to stop himself the moment he’s gotten a taste of Viktor pliant skin. He soothes the harsh wound he’s left on his neck with his warm tongue, lapping at it like a dog drinking from a water bowl. His nose grazes over to a new spot where his neck meets his shoulder and in Jayce’s eagerness to have another taste, his canines bite down and this time he draws blood. There’s a yelp, tightening of limbs around him and Viktor’s sound of pain dissolves into another moan and he curses in his mother tongue.

Jayce pulls away enough to take a look at the damage to see two little holes that slowly ooze blood, he places his lips back over it and takes in the metallic taste with his tongue. He holds Viktor down with a strength he didn’t recognize and he pulls his hips away just to snap them back into place like he’s already fucking his partner into the mattress. He lets out another low moan from his chest and finally pulls away, his lips glistening with spit.

“I need to taste you, I can’t help myself.” He’s suddenly grasping at the elastic band of Viktor’s boxers and tugging them with fervor. The other watches this, leaning up on his elbows and lifting his hips as well as he can. Wetness sticks to the boxers in a bridge of clear and white to his forest of hair. His dick poking between the bushes, enlarged and red.

Jayce shimmies himself down further on the bed, he plants kisses down Viktor’s body, biting gently at his nipples and grabbing as much flesh as he could during his descent. His lips trail over scars and moles, kissing the constellations traveling across his body and fingers dancing on his skin like a pianist playing a slow ballad. Careful, calculated and passionate. He kisses down the trail of hair from his bellybutton to where he’s aching and his clit twitches when it feels Jayce’s breath.

He pushes Viktor’s thighs up from the back of his knees and raises them over his own head, his heels find purchase on the vastayans shoulders. He begins to dive in.

His tongue lays flat against the expanse of his dick, swiping side to side and letting his lashes flutter shut as the taste of Viktor spreads across the wet muscle. Satisfied when Viktor releases a sigh and moans, he takes his large clit into his mouth and suckles it. He flicks the tip of his tongue over his clit since he can’t get enough of the way Viktor’s hips buck upward with each suck. Jayce lazily laps at it, spit already collecting in his mouth and spilling out from the corners as he takes in a deep breath after holding it for too long.

“So good…you taste so good…V…” He huffs between lapping. He feels Viktor ooze more arousal fluid to the point where his face is practically drenched in it. He pulls away to take another breath in but Viktor is grabbing his messy hair by the roots and shoving his face back into the bush of coarse hair and his dick gets shoved back into his mouth.

“Don’t stop!” He says breathlessly, hands clammy and heels digging roughly into his shoulders to pin him down. “Please, don’t…keep going…” Jayce thrusts his face forward and backward, tightening his lips around his clit to jerk off the length of it. Viktor begins whimpering, his words turning incoherent and more words in his mother tongue gasp between his lips. Jayce doesn’t understand a word but he can read the tone. Don’t stop. He doesn’t intend to.

Jayce lets go of the man’s clit with a pop of his lips and he slips his tongue between his slit to dive the tip of it into his soaked entrance. His hands now slide to cup his ass cheeks and his thumbs rest on each either side of his dick to spread him apart. Sticky lines of arousal are stuck to hair and he watches Viktor’s hole clamp shut and open, fluttering around nothing and practically aching to be filled. 

His own hips begin to lazily buck into the sheets, his hard-on straining against his clothes and he feels it. He feels part of himself start to expand and pulse, blood pumping through it to increase the size between his legs. Jayce moans loudly, he wants to stuff Viktor full. He briefly thinks back to their morning together, how well Viktor took him and the bulge protruding from his lower stomach with each thrust. The thought alone would be enough for him to cum right there but he’s too determined to mate. An animalistic sound comes deep from his throat and it startles Viktor— a frustrated, rib cage shattering groan that vibrates the entire bed. His tail snaps side to side like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

“I saw the book you were reading last night.” He says in a low tone, his mouth running along his slit teasingly, up and down, up and down. Viktor’s entire body shivers and he twitches with overstimulation. He takes a breath.

“What book?” He can’t even think right now. What the hell is Jayce doing by engaging in pillow talk in the middle of sex?

He smiles and runs his tongue up and down the shaft of his large clit. He expertly draws a moan from Viktor once more.

“About vastaya’s…” That’s all that needs to be said for Viktor to realize what he means. He goes bright red, ears burning hot and his eyes widen. He was not meant to see that and he’s a fool for keeping it out like that! But how was he supposed to know this would happen?! 

“I…well…”

“About knotting? You’re that curious?”

His confidence comes back to him, he can’t have Jayce have the upper hand like this, can he? He struggles to bite back a whimper when Jayce’s fingers circle around his entrance and barely inserts one finger before he finally dares to speak.

“Mmfh…Don’t you have something to show me, then?” 

Jayce shifts, lapping him up a few more times before he’s finally releasing himself and Viktor lets go of his hair. His fingers delicately rubs across his ears, something so soft and intimate that it makes Jayce’s chest ache with a fullness he can’t quite describe.

He gets up on his knees, Viktor’s legs still spread and he scoots to sit up against the headboard of his bed. He’s not going to miss a show like this— watching Jayce take off his pants and finally reveal his dick once more. Only this time he had much more to show.

His fingers drag the hem of his pants down, unzipping them first and sliding them down along with his briefs to the halfway point past his thighs. There’s an immediate relief as his cock springs forth from the confines of fabric and it bobs a few times, precum drips from the tip as he releases a drawn out sigh. 

Viktor had seen the diagrams, had seen vastaya porn (he could never admit that especially not to Jayce) but he wasn’t expecting such length and girth to come from this man. It truly is thicker than his own thigh. He knows for a fact that if he were to try and wrap a hand around it, his fingers would not meet each other. But still his curiosity gets the better of him and his hand slowly reaches out. When Jayce’s cock lays against his palm, he runs it down the shaft, then to where the knot begins, bulging outward, veins running along it. He can practically feel his heartbeat on the shaft and Viktor follows down and down the underside of his cock until his fingertips drags across Jayce’s balls. Heavy, warm and needing to be emptied. 

He looks up at Jayce then who’s eyes are shut and chest is heaving with deep breaths.

“Take your shirt off,” Viktor says, already stripping his own off, tossing Jayce’s shirt to the side. Jayce takes his off, hairy torso being fully exposed once more. Oh, how Viktor missed it, how often he would lay in this very bed and fantasize about it, touching himself until he was cumming on his fingers to the image of Jayce thrusting into him. Now he’ll once again get the real thing.

“Come here,” he says gently, laying back down and leaning against a pillow so he can have a good view. Jayce takes this moment to awkwardly kick off his pants, now both fully exposed.

He sits between Viktor’s legs, grabbing his dick in his hand and positioning it so his tip kisses Viktor’s. They both release a startled sound of arousal, Viktor already moving his hips to encourage more friction between them but the other falters for a moment.

He stops, looks at Viktor and there’s a hint of worry in his hazel eyes. “I might lose control on you…”

Bewildered for a moment, the older looks at him.

“Okay…and?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t think I really care if you do.”

His dick twitches in his hand and he has to physically bite his tongue to halt the moan.

“Don’t…don’t say that…”

“Jayce—“ Viktor reaches out to place a comforting palm on Jayce’s chest, he pets the hair soothingly and they meet eyes. “Let yourself go…give it to me. I know what I’m getting into.”

He really doesn’t. But it’s too late to back out.

Jayce doesn’t even acknowledge what he says, his ears pivot into a phase of concentration and he drags his large length up and down Viktor’s wetness. One hand grabs his waist, the other holding the base of his cock to steady it. His knot seems to grow in size and even he can’t believe his eyes to the sheer size of it. It’s so thick and he can barely get enough coating of Viktor’s arousal to even begin to think about entering him.

He looks up, desperate. “You have any lube?” 

Viktor is quick to grab some from his bedside table and Jayce puts a generous amount in his hand and warms it in his palm before he’s slowly jerking himself off.

That textbook wasn’t joking, his knot is indeed extremely sensitive but he makes sure to lube the base of it as much as he can before he’s aligning his tip to Viktor’s entrance. 

“Shit…stay still,” He warns with a softer tone, but that rumble in his chest still lingers. Viktor holds his breath, trying to relax his muscles as Jayce begins to insert himself.

He’s been fucking himself for a week now, he’s used to a girth but this one…this girth that’s pushing inside him hurts. He scrunches his face in pain and throws his head back.

“Agh….Mmmfhh…Jayce…m-more lube!” He chokes, the head of his dick splitting him so far apart he can feel the burn of it. He’s quick to slather more lube, pull away slightly to watch it dribble down his head and into Viktor before he attempts to enter him again.

It goes smoothly this time, he slides right in and there’s still the burn of the stretch but it’s pleasant enough for Viktor to release an aching whine. He swears under his breath, he cups his hands under his knees to hold his legs up and he lets his chin drop to watch Jayce force his way inside him.

His knot comes up fast, his stomach is already bulging in size and Viktor’s jaw locks open in an aroused shock. He slides his hand to his lower stomach and palms the length poking through. Jayce falters, his thighs tremble and his cock twitches at the sensation. His knot lays flush against Viktor’s fluttering hole and he can’t stop himself.

Jayce pulls back, witnessing his glistening length slowly pull out, and in the same pace he pushes back in. Viktor’s hand now grasps his pillow beneath his head and he gasps his partner's name. His knot slides in just barely, and he repeats the same slow thrust.

The bed begins to creak under their weight, Jayce is moving slowly and calculated so as to not hurt Viktor or stretch him too harshly. He’s patient despite the struggle already hold back filling him up with his seed and fucking it into him until his knot get stuck inside him. He’s a good boy and he’ll let it happen naturally.

That is until one simple word slips out of Viktor’s beautiful mouth.

“Faster.”

Jayce’s hips snap, skin on skin starts to rise in volume and he obeys, his thrust going a little bit faster. Just enough to cause Viktor’s body to lurch with each press into him. He’s fitting his knot half way now, just a few more thrusts and—

“Harder.” 

Jayce has to grab Viktor’s waist with both hands now, his thumbs dig into his hip bones, his gaze drops down to watch his stomach protrude and indent back to its normal state over and over again until finally he lets out a groan, a strained sound and he snaps his hips so harshly that Viktor cries out as he’s forced to take the entire knot.

He squeezes around it and Jayce barely feels it, he’s already so tight around him, any spasm around him barely flutters the nerves on his cock. He pulls out, both of them gasping before he’s plunging forward with such fierce strength that his thighs smack against the back of Viktor’s with a harsh sound that echoes in the room.

“Vik…fuck…!” His knot goes deep inside his partner and this time he feels his hole tighten around him. When he tries to pull out he finds he can’t. His knot is stuck and all he can do now is desperately rut into Viktor like a dog in a ferocious heat. 

Jayce lifts Viktor’s hips off the bed and the sound of their moans mix together in a filthy harmony of their carnal desire for one another.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He swears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jayce whimpers, unrelenting with his thrusting, guilt trickling into his muddled mind as he uses Viktor’s body for his own pleasure.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I need this…I need you…please…” His lower abdomen begins to tighten, his balls smack hard and heavy into Viktor’s ass and Jayce’s tail wags frantically. He’s already getting close.

Viktor reaches downward, hand lingering on his stomach once more to feel the protruding cock in his stomach before he slides it further down to wildly jerk himself off with three fingers.

“Jayce…Aghh…cum in me…”

“I will— shit, V. I’ll cum in you again and again…I’m sorry but I need to—“ He chokes on a groan. “I need you to breed you…fill you up full and— haaah— fuck my cum into you…”

“Do it…I’m close…Jayce, just— přesně tam— make me cum…”

Jayce presses Viktor back into the bed and presses his chest against the other’s. He replaces Viktor’s fingers with his own and they lock eyes as Jayce gets him closer to his orgasm.

“I’m right there with you,” His voice trembles with each thrust, “C’mon, V…cum for me and I’ll cum for you…”

And that was enough. Jayce’s fingers quicken on his clit as Viktor cries out, his body begins convulsing as the tsunami of pleasure invades his entire being. Jayce feels him flutter around his cock, tightening and pulsing, his clit jolting as his body rides out his orgasm. He grabs for his partner's shoulders, digging his nails into him now and he lifts his legs, wrapping them around Jayce’s waist.

“Jayce…ngh…cum in me!” 

He gives one final thrust, his cock spurts out white ropes inside him, sweat gathers at his forehead and he rides out his own orgasm now. Viktor moans at the sensation, wetness increasing between them, feeling the head of Jayce’s cock press into his cervix, his knot stretching him so well and plugging him up so no cum can escape. 

Jayce ruts his hips harshly into Viktor’s, the ropes of his cum never ceasing. His balls tighten, thighs ache when the muscles contract and he can’t seem to stop filling him up. He knows it’s only Viktor who can make him feel this way, no other partner has ever been able to make him feel this strongly. He lowers his head into his neck when his dick begins to feel too sensitive and he lets out a strained groan when his climax finally begins to subside.

He makes sure not to let his entire dead weight lay atop of Viktor, he holds his upper torso above him and lets his head hang. His chest heaves with each heavy breath, the both of them attempting to catch it together. Viktor’s legs unwind around him and he flops them back down onto the bed. Jayce wishes he could he could rest, lay down next to him and relax in Viktor’s arms but—

“I think I’m stuck inside you…” He admits weakly, letting out a defeated chuckle and Viktor laughs hoarsely. He feels delicate fingers on his scruff, scratching under his chin much like he did a week ago and lifts the vastaya’s chin so they can look at each other.

“You haven’t kissed me,” Viktor says almost in a disappointing tone. Jayce does not hesitate to lean in and hook his lips in between the other’s. Viktor’s fingers instantly find themselves in his tousles of hair, thumbs finding the base of his ears instantly and rubbing them soothingly— massaging them and it draws out a broken moan from Jayce.

Their lips slot between each other’s, Jayce taking the lead for the most part and struggling to not devour Viktor right here. He cups a hand over his cheek, his hand so large that three of his fingers rest on his neck under his jaw and he slips his tongue out to taste the inside of Viktor’s mouth.

He still tastes the alcohol, the hint of coffee from the night previous. As for Viktor, he tastes that faint saltiness of his own excitement on Jayce’s tongue from when he went down on him. He can feel the desire, passion and need in the way his tongue invades his mouth and invites itself to run along his teeth and press into his own tongue. They both part their lips and let the wet muscles swirl together is a messy evidence of their dedication for one another. 

Jayce suddenly pulls away.

“I won’t be able to get out of you if we keep kissing like this…” He lets out a breathy laugh, kissing Viktor once more but on the cheek this time. The man underneath him shifts and tightens around him to feel that his knot has not subsided at all in the slightest.

“Hm,” He hums and wiggles his hips side to side. “Guess we’ll have to do a part three, won’t we?”

Jayce, in shock, lifts himself up on his elbows and meets Viktor’s gaze. 

“You’re insane. I could hurt you!”

There’s a pointed look. “Do you really think I care? Haven’t we gone over this?”

He’s stupid for still being concerned, clearly.

“Right. Sorry.” 

They catch each other's breath for a beat long before Jayce begins to try and pull out of Viktor. It’s no use, he’s bulging, still hard and being squeezed around so tightly he’s afraid he might tear something inside him. He can only move a few centimeters backward but it’s enough for him to rock his body into Viktor’s.

Instantly there are limbs wrapping around him.

“Yes,” Viktor breathes, “Right there…” His tip grazes his cervix, kissing it with each thrust and there’s a filthy wet sound between them. His partner is becoming wet again, lubing him up even further and his hole loosens with arousal and it gives Jayce enough room to pull out of him halfway over his knot and push back inside him with a great force. 

“Fuck,” Jayce releases with a bestial grumble, his cock already aching and sensitive, ready to fill Viktor even more with him. “So tight—“ He gasps, tucking his face into his neck and biting down hard once more and drawing blood. Iron spills into his mouth and nails dig into his back surely leaving marks in their wake. A whimper and cry out in pain comes from below him and he fucks into Viktor harder, voice shaking and headboard slamming into the wall. If the neighbors somehow didn’t hear them earlier then now they would. 

“Jayce…use me!” He cries. “You’re so deep— kurva— I can feel you—“ He lays his hand back over his stomach, the dick imprint protruding over and over. They both look at it in wonder, Jayce’s lips now tinged with blood.

“Look how deep you are…” Viktor says softly. Slack jawed and moaning, he lolls his head backward into his pillow as the pleasure and overstimulation haunts his nervous system. Viktor’s body trembles again, barely five minutes into round two and he’s already drawing closer to his second orgasm.

The larger man above him pins him down with his hand, grabbing his wrists and slamming his pelvis into Viktor, skin slapping together in a vicious sound and he feels his own cum begin to slip past his knot and dribble down the underside of his cock and down into Viktor’s ass. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He asks with a harshness he doesn’t even recognize. His fingers are tightly wound around Viktor’s wrists and he knows he’s going to leave purple marks, possibly bruising. He knows he’ll feel bad about it later.

His partner can only nod, sucking in his bottom lip to chew on it, neck growing red in color and chest heaving as he struggles to hold back his wave of pleasure. He nods his head frantically and releases a gasp.

“Yes! Yes! I’m going to cum again!”

“Not yet— don’t…not until I do,” Jayce demands. He releases one of his wrists to push down Viktor’s leg against the bed and witness the way his cock slides in and out, it’s creamy and soaking, he see’s Viktor’s dick twitch and muscles tighten when he struggles further to hold back his orgasm.

“I’m almost there…let…ugh…let me bury my cum in you and then you can too, okay?” 

“Use my cunt,” Viktor cries out his plea. “Use me…Jayce…give it to me…”

He’s already cumming again, getting to the finishing line much quicker, his dick almost hurting with how overstimulating it all is but that doesn’t lessen the pleasure he feels when he shoots more hot ropes into Viktor’s pliant cunt.

It increases when he doesn’t stop abusive plunging and Viktor finally cums around him.

Once more Viktor cries out and his leg breaks free from Jayce’s grasp and they rise above his head as liquid pours out of him a violent spray, soaking Jayce’s lower torso and dripping down him and his partners thighs.

“Fuck, V—“ Jayce pulls out immediately and grabs himself at the base to grind his knot against his dick. More liquid sprays around them and Jayce does his best to help Viktor ride his orgasm out. 

Cum seeps out of his hole and into a puddle into the sheets, staining them and soaking them all the way to the mattress. His entire body goes limp all except for the final jolts of the residual climax causing his whole body to jostle as each wave dies down.

Immediately, Jayce begins after care, leaning down to kiss Viktor on his sweaty forehead. He brushes sticky hair off his forehead and kisses the skin exposed, salt tints his lips and he can taste it when he runs his tongue along them. He stops himself from calling Viktor beautiful, being too shy but knowing he has to later.

He’s handsome, laid out on the bed, eyes half lidded and flowers of bruises and marks beginning to bloom across his pale, beautiful skin. Moles frame the artwork left by Jayce’s fingers that he reaches out to pet and leans down to kiss each one.

“You okay?” He asks with a soft tone, his voice hoarse but fingers delicate and tentative to sensitive skin. Viktor nods, cracking his eyes open to look up at Jayce with a crooked smile, teeth shown.

“Yeah…I’m great,” He groans, his stiff legs moving to squeeze together and more cum oozes out of him like honey. “Achy…but okay…” He struggles to sit up on his elbows and Jayce scoots himself to help, wrapping an arm around him and their faces are inches from each other. They pause for a second, taking in the silence between them all except their huffs of breath that escape their lips. Viktor’s eyes glance down to Jayce’s lips, then back up to his eyes.

A beat. Viktor cups a hand over the side of his neck and follows his jawline with his thumb.

“Kiss me?” He asks with a knowing smile.

Jayce leans in gently, ghosting his lips over Viktor’s and pressing them together with a patience they lacked just minutes ago.

They’re like this for a while, in each other's arms, kissing and running their hands through their hair. Viktor massages Jayce’s ears at their base, rubbing his thumb into the cartilage and Jayce lets out a purr, rumbling into his chest and fluttering his eyes shut, rolling back into his head at the pleasure. Then nails scratch around the base of them and Jayce lets out another sound of pleasure.

“You really are like a dog, hm?” Viktor teases.

“I could bite like one too.”

“Oh, I know very well.” They chuckle and Jayce dips his face into Viktor’s palm that pulls away from his ear. His tail twitches, wanting to wag but not being able to have the energy to. 

More silence and Jayce slowly gets off the bed to begin the cleanup.

“Let me help you change the sheets. You got a bathtub?” Viktor hums a yes and points Jayce to the door where he walks in and already starts a bath.

“You take a bath while I clean, yeah?” He’s not going to give Viktor a choice in the matter but he’s still polite. Viktor blushes over the kindness of his partner and he nods.

“You’re too sweet, Jayce.”

He shrugs. “I just like you…a lot.”

He picks Viktor up like a princess and carries him to the bathroom. His arms are around Jayce’s neck and he smiles up at him.

“I like you a lot too…Can we do this again?”

Jayce gives him a side eye.

“Let’s take a break for a bit before we do this again.” 

[felassan]

hi! first of all, love your blog, everything is so organized and there's so much info out there about everything and you having this blog makes it easier to find.

so there's something that idk if i saw on this blog or if i made up in my head and maybe you could help? I remember seeing something somewhere about how the devs or at least david gaider didn't understand why so many sided with the mages. do you know anything about that or did I made that up completely in my head?

hello! ◕‿◕ tysm for the nice comment about my blog. I'm happy that it can be helpful!!

rest of post under cut for length.

if you think you may have read it here, could you be thinking of one or some of these quotes from [this] post series? those posts are some notes I made of things which David Gaider said (pls keep that context in mind when reading the below) during some Twitch streams some years ago. as far as I know the original streamed videos are no longer available.

"The experience of a mage in the world isn’t represented or conveyed very well to the player when the player is a mage. The experience of the player when they’re playing a mage or have a mage in their party doesn’t really match up with how the world lore tells them how dangerous mages can be - for example, how they can lose control and so on, we never really have an example of a PC mage struggling with being taken over by a demon. This was originally supposed to be a subplot in DA2 for mage Hawkes, in one of the last cuts. In Act 2, mage Hawke was originally slowly being tricked by a demon in their head that they thought was real, only to realize at the last minute. Mouse the Pride demon in the mage Origin is the only time in the entire series that they really ever properly demonstrated how demons can fuck with [PC] mages. Also, PC templars were originally supposed to have a permanent lyrium addiction that they needed to ‘feed’, but this was scrapped as the system designers weren’t keen on it and felt that it was essentially handicapping the player."

"They managed to keep the Tranquil in. There was a while there where they were going to be cut. At the same time, DG regrets that they couldn’t solve the making of the player more aware of how mages are dangerous, thing. Players could make a cogent argument like “they’re not that dangerous, look at me [mage PC]” and the writers were like “well… yeah, that is fair”. It was a case of showing one thing and the player experience of it being another. DG feels that this made the templars come off worse than they are. DG feels that they are being massively unfair and too extreme in their approach to the problem, but the problem itself is a real thing. He feels that there’s some merit/truth in the argument that mages are oppressed, but he looks at it more like an issue like gun control rather than as treatment of oppressed people, saying that we don’t have an example in real life of oppressed people who can explode into demons and cast fireballs and so on."

"Going into DA2, the team had a long discussion of the themes of the game, the whole ‘security versus freedom’ argument. “Let’s try to understand the motivations of people who do things wrong. Is it possible to feel sympathy for somebody who might otherwise be labelled a terrorist? Is it possible to understand why templars might view the mages with fear?” As a whole, DA tries to encompass villains that have motives we can understand a little better. DG feels that Corypheus isn’t one of these. He’s less a villain and more an antagonist or plot device. There are certain things that they did wrong with the implementation of Cory in the game. Originally in DAI he attacked Skyhold as well as Haven. Cutting the Skyhold attack for example made him seem like less of a threat."

"There are certain spells/abilities in D&D that can make a GM’s life frustrating, such as teleportation, telling the future, resurrection. The fact that death is not permanent, for instance, should be a huge thing that affects society and how the people in it view death. This is why they were thinking stuff like “If every low-level mage in the setting had a skill like ‘Charm Person’, what would non-mages make of that?”"

or maybe something from [here], or an [old post] [random example] David Gaider made on the original official BioWare Forum? 🤔 [the forum was archived by fans on Fextralife] or could you be thinking of something that he said on his old Tumblr? [this] and [this] are links to some Tumblr blogs which archived some of the original Tumblr. it might be worth browsing through those/searching them for "mages" and suchlike in case it turns anything up. :>

apologies if nothing here is pinging as familiar. :<