#//She's warming up to Rook though

[ramshacklestar]

@wishkept sent || “⭐️” x3 for Yuu & Deuce or Yuu and Rook?

For each “⭐️” I get, I’ll write a headcanon about our muses. || Accepting

Deuce- Don’t get her wrong, she likes Ace and considers him one of her closer friends, but when it comes to Deuce Yuu is significantly more comfortable and lets her walls down a lot quicker around him over anyone else. Deuce puts her mind at ease which many of the other students couldn’t ever dream to give her. Deuce is Yuu’s comfort and even just being around him when she’s particularly stressed is enough to ease at least most of her tension. Even if it is just standing there in silence or Deuce babbling on about something he might be passionate about or upset by at that moment, the result of relaxation is always the same. She is also aware of his past but that does not affect their relationship any and the fact he’s changed as much as he has since he was a child is a part of him she really looks up to, though she had a feeling if she told him that he might get flustered so that’s a little secret she’s keeping to herself for now~.

Rook- Though Yuu has gradually gotten used to Rook and most of his quirks, she does still somewhat hold him at arms length his knack of obtaining information about his classmates still leaving her wary on completely trusting him. If there is anyone Yuu is legitimately worried about finding out her secret, if he doesn’t know already, it’s Rook. Though after the events of Book 5 and 6 she would like to think he wouldn’t ever spill her secret or lord something like her past over her. She also does show him some appreciation in the fact that he’d outfitted her with one of Pomifore’s robes after her and Epel went after him so the chill of the night air wouldn’t affect her, but since being in Twisted Wonderland regarding almost everyone with some suspicion seems a lot safer than simply giving out her trust freely. 

[tenojan-in-tevinter]

Lavellan post!!!! Aaaa I love her ok. Her name is Mirevas and she really wishes she hadn't agreed to go to the human politics meeting. She's very stubborn and headstrong and will speak her mind. She distrusts humans, but not enough to be actively hostile to every human she sees. She will beat you up if you call her "knife-ear" or if you insult her friends. She's also a lot stronger than she looks, she's fairly small even for an elf.

Pics of her pretty face:

She has complicated feelings about her clan and believes they sent her on the "shit job" (the conclave) to get a break from her. Even though 70% of the perceived beef they have with her is half in her head and half from one or two individual clanmates. They love her and miss her and hope she's okay. And she misses them so bad sometimes it aches. But that's probably just the mark...

The actual 30% conflict she has with her clan mostly has to do with her ideas about elven culture and how stupid it is that they all act like they know so much when it's clear they know so very little about their past. Among other things. Like spirits and demons. She is fascinated by them to a degree that disturbs her clanmates a bit. And also anyone outside her clan who gets her talking.

She does not like Solas at first. She thinks he's super annoying. He thinks he knows everything, doesn't he. He won't shut up. And he's bald. And he talks like some puffy human noble guy. What's up with that. And he has opinions about spirits and demons that... make sense?? And sometimes he says something and suddenly she can't look at him anymore or she'll start smiling. Ass.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

For King and Kin

22/12: Party and Position Changes - Aemond Targaryen Word Count: 1.6k~ | Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, smut, prince regent aemond, doggy

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

“She is of a weak disposition, I heard. Perhaps she is with child.”

“The Prince Regent certainly needs an heir.”

“He has looked sour since his Lady Wife left the celebrations.”

Aemond scoffed from his spot at the high table, circling a finger over the rim of his cup, half-filled with wine. They spoke as if he did not hear them, whispering such gossip. It was infuriating.

It was true that his lady wife suffered from sickness, especially in the mornings, but not exclusively. The maesters had told him in quiet confidence that they suspected she was with child, but that it was sensible to wait until the quickening to confirm.

What an excruciating wait.

She had graced the court with her presence earlier in the evening, but when she began to feel her stomach churning, she need only pay him a furrow of her brows in pain and he was more than happy to allow her rest if she needed it.

He was willing to carry her even, excuse himself from the celebrations himself. But she reassured him she was still able to walk, with a small, amused smile.

Even with the conqueror's crown planted firmly upon his head, all he could think of was the sweet curve of his wife's body in his. How warm she is. How smooth her skin. How plush her thighs. How tight her—

“Your Grace.”

Aemond blinked, swallowing thickly as he felt his breeches tighten at the mere tangent his mind was about to embark upon. Nothing softened him faster than the sight of Ser Tyland Lannister though, smug and stood tall as if he himself had been crowned instead of him.

“I wish to congratulate you on your Regency. As always your council will remain steadfast and trustworthy. And should you ever desire a Hand—”

“Thank you, Ser Tyland,” Aemond half-smiled, half-grimaced, “your loyalty is appreciated.”

Aemond nodded curtly to Ser Tyland, signalling the conversation was over, though the Lannister lingered a moment too long for Aemond’s liking before finally bowing and stepping away. 

His good eye drifted across the festivities. Everyone was drunk at best, smiles too wide, laughter too hollow, and he was overcome with the sudden desire to leave it all behind. He glanced in his mother’s direction as he pushed his chair out, her brown eyes wide with curiosity and judgement perhaps. 

She had given him no other look since Rook’s Rest.

“I believe they’ve seen enough of me tonight,” Aemond said, his tone firm. “The realm will not crumble if its Regent retires an hour early.”

“Aemond–”

“Mother,” he interrupted, his voice low but final.

It was only in the hall where he felt he could finally breathe. Air flowed easily, no longer stifled by the pomp and proper of the evening he had just sought to leave. He opened the heavy door to their chambers and stepped inside. The fire had burned low and she was already in bed, lying on her side, her hair spilling over the pillow.

“You left early,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him.

Her eyes opened slowly, and a small smile curved her lips. “And yet you followed.”

As he reached the bed, she shifted to sit up, the blanket pooling around her waist. “I thought you’d stay longer. Your mother will have words, I’m sure.”

“She always does,” he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Are you feeling unwell?”

Her gaze dropped for a moment, her fingers grazing her stomach in that way that had haunted him all evening. “No,” she said softly. “Just…tired.”

He hummed, “when will the maesters give their opinion?”

She looked up at him then, her expression caught somewhere between apprehension and hope. “They said it would be unwise to speculate for a few more weeks,” she replied. “But I am aware patience is not your strong suit, is it?”

He smirked faintly. “It is not.”

“You’ve waited for so much, Aemond,” she said softly, her voice warm and soothing, eyes glancing up at the conqueror’s crown sat atop his head. “A little longer won’t harm you.”

“Hm,” he murmurs, crawling over the bed towards her delicate form, pressing his face to her stomach with his hands on her hips, “spare me, dear wife. Have the maesters forbade coupling? I do not think I can wait.”

Her fingers threaded through his hair as she let out a soft laugh. “No,” she said, “but we must be careful. They warned against anything too…strenuous. Until we know for certain.”

“I am no beast,” he muffled against her shift, bunching it up as if desperate to touch her flesh, “I know restraint.”

“I seem to recall differently,” she countered with a teasing lilt.

With a hand to his chest, she pushes him back, enough to be able to straddle his lap as he sits with his back against the bed frame. For a moment his pupil widened slightly and she relished in the warm pride that spread through her at his reaction. 

She wasted no time. Unlacing his breeches was the simple part, but in this position, face to face, it was novel and intimate, more than usual. It was always Aemond on top, commanding her body to his. She wasn't sure how her husband was likely to cope with the change.

His breath hitched, eye closing as she pulled his cock free and worked him to full hardness, her slight palm massaging the ruddy tip, knowing what he liked. He was surely about to speak before she rose her hips, and the tip of him kissed her waiting slit, and slowly, slowly took her husband to the hilt.

Her movements were slow, deliberate, her hands braced against his chest as she guided them both into a steady rhythm. Aemond’s hands gripped her hips, his fingers pressing into her flesh as he resisted the urge to take control. He let her lead, his lips parting as a low groan escaped him.

“Ābrazȳrys” his voice caught, his eye blazing as he gazed up at her. “You are perfection.”

She leaned forward, her fingers threading through his silver hair, and pressed her lips to his. The dark crown brushed her fingertips, and in her annoyed breath, she slipped it from his head onto the bed. An action only the wife of the Prince Regent in this intimate moment would ever get away with.

Their breaths mingled, their shared movements growing more heated, more desperate. It felt good to roll her hips against him, each slide home was easy, aided by her unending desire to please him. But soon, she began to slow, the strain in her thighs becoming too much.

Her brows furrowed, her rhythm faltering as she let out a shaky breath. “Aemond.”

He must have felt the shake, as he was already moving her off his lap, “enough. Allow me.”

He guided her off him carefully, laying her down on her side before helping her onto her hands and knees. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide, and for a moment, uncertainty flickered across her face.

Her cheeks burned as he pulled the shift over her backside, pulling her legs apart so he might see the wetness that glazed her womanhood. She felt exposed and utterly at his mercy in such a compromising position.

Not to mention, this was uncharted territory.

“We’ve never…” she began, her voice trailing off.

Aemond smirked, his fingers trailing down her spine. “No,” he murmured, his tone low, “but we will now.”

He positioned himself behind her, and watched with curiosity and admiration, as for from this angle, he was able to watch himself disappear inside, swallowed by her silky walls. She gasped in turn, this was deeper than she had ever felt him, with her spine curved and backside held against him. Her fingers clutched the sheets as his pace began slow enough, before his restraint began to ebb away.

“Alright?” he rasped, leaning forward to press kisses along her shoulder, his voice rough with both pleasure and concern.

Her hips instinctively pushed back, “don't stop…”

Her approval shocked him, but ignited his confidence all the same as he began to push into her with renewed vigour. She was surprised at how much she liked it, the way he fit against her, the way his hands held her so firmly. It felt raw, intimate, and utterly consuming.

His hands slid up to her waist as he felt her peak quiver through her body, her walls spasming around him and in the force of it, her arms gave out and she pressed her front to the sheets. She swore she felt the palm of his hand on her lower stomach, stroking lovingly as he reached his, pushing hot, pearly ropes of his release so much inside her, that she felt it dribble down her thigh.

Aemond helped her shift onto her side, gathering her into his arms as they both caught their breath. His hand instinctively returned to her stomach, his thumb brushing over the soft skin in slow, soothing circles.

“You will let me know once the maesters give their opinion, won’t you?”

“Of course,” she replied, leaning into him. “But tonight, you are Prince Regent. Let us celebrate that.”

Aemond shook his head, his lips curling into a rare, genuine smile. His gaze softened as he looked at her, his wife, who had managed to calm the storm in him more times than he cared to admit.

“Tonight, I am your husband. Nothing else matters.”

General Taglist: @1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69

@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Yuu has the audacity to ask a question. It leads to some interesting moments  

Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Floyd Leech

Jade Leech 

“Jade, can I ask you a question?” It’s not often that the library is so packed that you end up sharing a table but if it had to be with anybody, at least it was Jade.  

Jade wasn’t naturally academically smart. He took a lot of notes and studied in order to come out in the middle. There were folks that thought he was simply keeping his head down, but Yuu found out by accident. She knew Jade was incredibly street smart and people savvy though, no matter what grades he got. It worked in her favor though, as Jade let them copy notes from last year in exchange for not sharing the information anywhere. Not that Yuu planned too, but they weren’t going to pass up such an opportunity either.  

“Of course, I will assist in anyway I can.”  

“Do you have any books that you would recommend for scavenging for local flora and fauna in the woods back at Ramshackle? I’ve tried searching through the library but it’s a bit too vague for what I need.”

If Yuu had blinked, they would have missed the brief surprise and delight on his face.  

“Well,” he sets his pen down, “As the president of the Mountain Lovers club, I’m sure we could discuss that during our meetings. If only you were a member.” he sighed  

“If only Crowley would allow me to join any clubs.” Yuu muttered, “I know it's a requirement for first and second years to be involved in at least one, but he says I have far more to offer as his unofficial assistant. Unpaid is more accurate but what do I know.”  

Jade smiles, the one that matches his brothers. Wide and full of teeth.  

“Leave Crowley to me, dear Prefect. You just meet me in the morning behind Ramshackle. Bring a basket and your camera, oh, and dress warm. It'll be cold for you.”  

He writes some extra instructions on a slip of paper and collects his things, turning left at the library doors. Damn, that was straight to the headmasters’ office too. Jade really doesn't play around when it comes to the Mountain Lover's club.

While Yuu isn’t able to attend every meeting, the Mountain Lover’s club apparently includes trips to other countries, recipes cooked in the Ramshackle kitchen as well as appreciating cultures and crafts made by various peoples which slowly starts to decorate the rickety dorm into something interesting and unique. Jade becomes a different person as a traveler and seems to find joy in just exploring and discovering all the different ways that people create and eat and live.  

After he graduates, Yuu gifts him the book that the two of them created, with pictures and descriptions of all the Night Raven College fauna and flora, their uses, if they are edible, and different recipe and potion ingredients, the regions it comes from, and even snippets of stories and memories they share.  

Jade is not an emotional man, but when he asks you to come with him on his next expedition, his smile is full of joy.  

Rook Hunt

“Rook, can I ask you a question?”  

Rook looks down from his spot in the tree, a camera perched in his hands. “Amazing eyesight, Mon Trickster! I did not anticipate being found. Ask away, but be quick, less Roi de Lion suspects me.”  

“Are there any plays or poetry books that would be good for a beginner? I read a lot back home but I know there is cultural and historical context I'm going to be missing-” 

“I am so happy!” he practically drops the tree, taking both of her hands to kiss the knuckles, “I would be happy to help you. Come, come!”  

Oh, they are going to the library now. Right now. Ok, Yuu should have expected that.  

Rook is always excitable, but he’s mindful as well. Picking out smaller volumes at first, and adding some reference materials, putting a few back as he asks questions about what she has already read or what she typically enjoys. He also writes out a list for audio books and radio performances. Thank the Seven that Crowley finally got them a phone and they could excuse the data usage for school.  

“I have the films I would be willing to lend, but I would ask you be incredibly careful.”  

“Oh, I don’t have a TV or any type of DVD player at Ramshackle. We try and keep the places as authentic as possible. It helps when the ghosts come to visit on Hallow’s eve.” They don’t have wifi either and their electricity runs off a backup generator, but Yuu doesn’t mention that. They are distinctly aware of how rundown Ramshackle is, but they try not to advertise how badly.  

“What dedication you have to your dorm and the history of Night Raven College. We may do so in Pomefiore!”  

And that’s how they end up having movie night basically every Wednesday night, sometimes with other Pomefiore members or even Vil himself refreshing on the classics. Rook would sit close by, quietly explaining certain contexts and even joining Yuu on reading through some of the poetry books. His passion comes out more with his knowledge than his speech in those moments, and it’s...nice. Normally Rook is the most reserved person she knows. He’s family is still a mystery, but she’s learned more about his beliefs and insights into how he perceives life in general. 

“This is how I met Roi de Poison, you know. He enchanted me at first sight, but his mind...he understood my passion for theater, music and beauty. He respected me, once I proved that I loved him for more than his looks and roles.”  

Crazy fan he might have been in the past, it was definitely more of an equal relationship once you saw past the surface level. Yuu eventually started picking a few habits and fashion tips, slowly becoming a bit more refined. Elegant even, she might say.  

When she hesitantly asks for help with other things, it's easier each time. Help with skincare routines, or experimenting with make-up, what colors work best and how silhouettes come across. It’s never been this fun to experiment with her style. It helps that Rook, while thinking certain things definitely work, will be gentle in the things that aren’t.  

“They do not enhance your beauty,” he says, sounding like Vil, “And you are already magnifique.”  

He is the first person that she shares her book of stories with, the precognitions that she has  

“Do you think fairy tales are fiction?” He asks her, quietly skimming over the passages of Snow White. The Fairest Queen is barely mentioned, but without her, there is no story.  

“Living here feels like a fairy tale, but if it is, you’ve made it a wonderful dream.”  

Rook looks at her, a surprised chuckle slipping out. Before he can hide it, his nose crinkles, a smile wide enough to show his gums, and Yuu thinks it enhances all the best of him.  

Vil Schoenheit 

“Vil, may I ask you a question?” 

“At least somebody paid attention when I went over manners. You may.” Vil says, as he adds in some sort of lilac powder. Normally, they wouldn’t have any classes together, but with Yuu acting as an ‘assistant’ towards the teachers to make extra cash, they got to see the second and third years more than even the other first years in their dorms.  

“How do you make time for it all? Between the acting jobs, getting good grades in school, indulging in potionology and homebrew makeup in your limited free time, it seems like you get so much done with just as much time as the rest of us.”  

“Thank you for noticing.” Vil says, looking up from his potion work. “And yes, I do keep a very organized schedule. Every minute is planned and my down time is spent decompressing efficiently.”  

“Is there any articles or techniques you would recommend? Or a template you used?” 

“You could just ask me for help, you know.” he retorts, huffing a bit.  

“I know I could, but I also want to be respectful of what you have on your plate.”  

“Ah, potato...I have plenty of time, especially in this season. I don’t schedule anything this close to finals. Come sit with me this evening for dinner and we will talk goals and progress markers. There is more to this mentally than most people think.”  

Vil is a bit less than impressed when he sees just how much Yuu accomplishes for Night Raven College with no credit and makes a note to talk to the teachers and Crowley about getting her properly compensated or at least. But overall, it goes well, making time for exercise, hobbies, studies and even some time with him. Telling her about the techniques he used and actually practicing them were two different things, and some things are just easier to show rather than tell.  

“Alright, let’s start here.”  

Mindfulness, ironically for somebody outside Scarabina, is important to Vil. Sinking fully into the experience of his daily life, looking at all the colors, enjoying his foods with no screens, or just enjoying the quiet while he removes makeup. His decompress is like a valve that he releases in minutes throughout the day, not hours at the end of it.

“This takes practice. Don’t discourage yourself if you don’t get it every time, eventually it will come more naturally.”  

And it does. Over the months, Yuu feels more productive than ever, even finding time to wonder about her own style. It is a bit embarrassing when Vil enters Ramshackle to use the Guest Room to study and sees her hastily trying to wash off eyeshadow. 

“Oh, spudling, not your color. No, no, here.” He sits, and teaches, a bit harshly at times, but he wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t direct. Much like Riddle, he fully believes that people can reach his level, and sees no reason why they shouldn’t. And while Yuu will never be Vil pretty, she certainly feels more beautiful and confident now than she ever has before.  

It isn’t until Vil is reviewing one of his performances that Yuu makes a comment, some offhand remark about the script not quite matching the vernacular expected for the period, that he invites her to sit and review more.  

Yuu doesn’t think it’s anything spectular, it’s kind of obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to the rest of the audience.  

Vil sits at thier usual tea table in the Night Raven Gardens, and slides a ticket over to her.  

“If you have time. I know you recently picked up a few photography jobs in town that would be a shame to miss. Rapport with clients is key, you know.”  

It’s the red-carpet event to a 5th year anniversary movie he did as a child. All glitz and glam, showing just how much they have grown as actors and people since their debuts. It’s a milestone even for Vil, the first and only role where he was played a supporting role that wasn’t a villain or antagonist.  

“What colors are you wearing? I might have something that compliments.” Yuu asks, already going through their mind for anything suitable in Ramshackle.  

“Well,” Vil preens, opening his laptop. “We will just have to buy something together to ensure we match, won’t we? When are you free?” 

It’s so small Yuu almost misses it, but hidden underneath his painted blush is a heated blush, quiet and pink and delighted.  

Floyd Leech

“Floyd, can I ask you a question?”   

Floyd doesn’t even bother looking up from his spot at the table, “Better not be a boring question Shrimpy, or I’ll squeeze ya~” 

“Where do you go to get your shoes repaired?”  

His head snaps up just a bit, left eye brighter than usual.  

“Ace had mentioned that your sole had torn during practice,” Yuu continues, feeling like they have to explain themselves with how intensely he was staring, “But the next day it had been stitched back on like new. There are some fantastic leather boots from the old NRC uniforms that I'd love to use, but I’m trying to find somebody who won’t butcher them or tell me they aren’t repairable just cause there old or out of style, you know?”  

Floyd nods, eyes still searching before ultimately just shrugging his shoulders. “Hmmm...at least it wasn’t boring. Meet at Monstro Lounge at 6 lil’ Shrimpy, bring the shoes!”  

He walks away before Yuu can even say that they have to meet with somebody else, but that really isn’t a possibility when a Leech brother has demanded your attention. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule with Deuce.  

The Monstro Lounge is fairly steady, though Yuu has never seen it slow. Always some sort of deal or exclusive that sets these rich bastards running through the doors, even if it’s just so they don’t have to deal with the lines in the cafeteria or cook their own food.  

Jade waves you in, taking the box from your hands in a gentlemanly manner, and leading you to the side. Floyd is quick to intercept, mumbling a thank you before his long strides leave you almost jogging.  

“Alright, let’s see what we are working with.”  

The dorm is clearly shared between him and Jade. Crisp white walls, a seashell and sea motif on the desk and headboard and some floating shelves that look vaguely like drift wood, exactly what she expected from Octanvinelle. But that’s about all the two sides have in common. Jade’s is organized, of course, but notable is the terrariums on the shelves and a stack of geology books tucked into the corner, along with photos of places he may have been or plans to go.

Floyd’s half is a mess, yes, but it’s organized chaos, like looking at Ace and Deuce’s dorm. High protein snacks are tucked on the shelves, completed 3D puzzles, and...fashion magazines? Huh, he did say that merpeople didn’t really have a reason to wear clothes so land peoples being so obsessed with it would be interesting, especially in different regions or cultures. And the trends are constantly changing. It actually started fitting, the more Yuu thought about it.  

Floyd set the box on the desk, picking up the shoes and bending them this way and that, pressing on the heel or pinches the toe.  

“You’ve taken good care of them,” He says, “The stitches are loose and the nails need to be hammered back in, but the leather is clean and strong. I’d get some new leather laces though, the wax on these has completely frayed from misuse. How old are these?”  

“They're from back when Ezra and the others went to school, but they don’t have a great concept of time.” Floyd raises an eyebrow. “Oh, the ghosts at Ramshackle.”  

“Huh, no wonder it felt like the place was trying to kick us out.” Floyd walks over to the walk-in closet and Yuu has to double take. She would have mistaken the closet for Jade’s! On the left, the clothes are hung neatly on the rack except for the everyday items like the basketball or school uniform which have their own spots hung neatly on the door itself. Below that are clear boxes that seem to hold all sort of tools. Are these hobbies that Floyd has picked up and gotten bored with?

But the right side of the walk in closet is just racks and racks of shoes. Wing tip dress, loafers, even a few kitten heels and red backed stiletos. All perfectly shined and displayed.  

“Floyd, you repair your own shoes?” Yuu taking the box he hands her.

“When you are as tall as me and Jade, you end up having to customize and fix a lot of your own clothes, unless you wanna pay some stupid prices, and standing there while they pin and stuff is boring. I’d rather just do it myself.” He takes out a wicked looking needle and a stand, securing it to the desk with a flick of a lever. “Which pair is your size?”  

“Oh, these.” she says, picking up a pair of loafers and ankle boots. “I can’t afford for you to do this for me Floyd. I don’t have the funds right now.” 

He just leans against the table with a laugh, “Oh, I aint doin’ it for free. Your gonna pay me by letting me keep a pair, specifically those.”

He points to the bottom of the box, a pair of thigh high riding boots from what she can tell.  

“Those are the ones in the worst shape?”  

“Oh, I won’t be able to get them to their original form, but I can lengthen the sole and toe area a bit, add a heel, and have a wicked pair of thighs high stilettos that’ll have even Betta fish jealous~” 

“With your legs, you’d look really good in a skirt.”  

They both blink.  

“Shit, sorry, my mouth ran-” Floyd laughs, something softer than usual.  

“Your damn right Shrimpy.” He smiles, “I do look damn good in a skirt. I prefer dresses though.”  

He takes a seat, motioning for her to take the other side, sets the shoe inside the stand, and starts explaining the process. It doesn’t always make sense but he’s clearly passionate about it.  

This might be a truer version of him, Yuu thinks, seeing him carefully take out a rusted nail to pull out a fresh silver one from an even smaller box. One that isn’t bored or moody, but just...getting able to do something that actually interests him.  

“Hey Floyd. Do you want to go thrifting with me and Kalim on Sunday? I think you’d have some interesting things to say about some of the finds, especially the clothes mart. They literally have a bin of vintage pieces for a dollar a piece.”  

He leans back, and does that smile again. All teeth but his eyes relax, all boyishly charming.  

“You got all the audacity in the world, don’t you?” He chuckles, “I’ll get my shift covered.”  

[conchcronch]

My Turn

WC: 2816

Pairing: Spite x Fem!Rook

Summary: Lucanis accidentally fell asleep which leads Spite to take over when you come to spend the evening together.

Warnings: a little bit DUB CON but it gets cleared up towards the end.

A/N: PLEASE send me prompts for Lucanis and Spite x Rook, I’m obsessed.

The lack of a moon and stars in the Fade had unsettled you since your first night at the Lighthouse. The sky was lit as though there were some sort of light source but you could never find one as you walked from the main building out to the farthest room at the end of the courtyard. What had originally been your dining hall had been taken over by the Crow, feeling most at comfort in the dank pantry, not something you could fully understand but you also had no intention of questioning it more then you already had.

The door was unlocked, the fire lit in between the two wolf statues. Your partner was not leaning against the mantle as you had expected, but the flickering of candles through the pantry/bedroom door quickly hinted at where he likely was. You noticed freshly brewed coffee, two mugs set out, anticipating your arrival. You cleared the distance from the door to the counter in the small, dark kitchen. Taking your time prepping the coffee, leaving his black so he could taste the flavor notes of this particular blend, but pouring a decent amount of milk in your mug, the thought of leaving yours black made you grimace.

With mugs of coffee in hand you walked past the fireplace, the warmth wrapping around your legs making the cold of the back bedroom all the more jarring. His back was to you, the candle light flickering, distorting his shadow as it danced across the wall. “I brought you coffee, it might be a little cold, but I can warm it up if you want.” You took a quick sip of yours as you held his outstretched, his back still to you.

“Not now” a wave of his hand made you cock an eyebrow but put the mug down on a small shelf nevertheless. You leaned your back against the sturdy oak shelving, sipping your coffee as you tried to output enough fire magic from your palm to warm the ceramic mug rather then ignite it. The silence stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable despite being slightly out of character for him. Ever since the blighted dragon attacked Tarviso he had been different, the sight of such a beast in a town that he and his family were fighting so hard to save must have proved to him just how delicate it really was.

His weight shifted from foot to foot, his hand under his chin, toying with his beard as he so often did when deep in thought. “Neve is still gone” the silence had stretched on much too long for your liking, your anxiety gnawing at you as you watched him. You were hoping he’d reassure you, tell you you had no choice but to make the impossible call, to thank you for choosing his city over her’s. But instead he just stood there, silent, unmoving. “I’m worried she might not come back, Bellara says she will, but honestly I’m not sure I would if I were her.” You tipped your head further back, the last mouthful of coffee warming your throat as you put your mug on the shelf next to his. “Lucanis,” He didn’t budge at the use of his name, his shoulders barely even moving as he breathed. You stepped closer to him, your hand out in front of you to touch his shoulder. “If now’s not a good time I ca-“ He felt cooler to the touch, even through the layers of his shirt and vest, it was as though his body was giving off no heat.

“Smells like waterlily.” The voice was his, but not entirely. His accent was present but the pitch off, the tone heightened. You tensed, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next. Finally the body of your partner turned, his eyes glowing purple as you’ve seen only a handful of times before.

“Spite” The name feels sharp in your mouth, your tone giving away your hesitation. He leaned forward, sniffing you closer and you remained glued in place. He stepped forward, close enough you could wrap your arms around him if you really wanted to. You can feel his breath on your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply, his face was so close to your skin you swear you could feel his lips against you for the briefest of seconds.

“You came to us for pleasure” You felt your face flush, of course it wasn’t your only intention, but you certainly weren’t going to turn it down if one thing led to another, but your relationship was still fairly new, and despite your longing for a physical component you weren’t intending to push those boundaries. But for your desires to be so bluntly outed there was a wave of embarrassment that washed over you.

“Let me talk to Lucanis.” You stepped back, crossing your arms over your chest but not missing the way the demon’s purple eyes dragged down your form.

“It’s my turn with you.” You couldn't deny how impressed you were at Spite’s fairly calm demeanor, after listening to many of Lucanis’ one sided conversations with the demon you had expected him to be bordering on feral when speaking directly to him.

”Spite, I want to talk to Lucanis.” You added a bit more force to your tone, hoping the demon would grow tired of your insistence and go back to wherever it is he resides when Lucanis is in control. But when you felt hands on your hips, tugging you against the body you so desperately craved it took you a beat before you were struggling against the grip.

His lips were on your neck, lapping more than kissing. Groaning as he did so, every lick finishing with a gravelly moan, his hips rutting against your side as his hands balled the cotton of your shirt. “sp-pite- fuck” You tried to convince yourself to push away from him, but your longing for the Crow was fogging your brain. You could feel your core pulse, his tongue working wonders along your sensitive neck and the slightly distorted moans were making it difficult to resist.

“Spite” You tried to say but it ended up coming out as a whine rather than a demand, receiving what could only be referred to as a purr instead of a hum.

“Can smell how wet you are, Rook” The way he purred your name forced you to swallow a moan. Before you were able to even notice him walking you backwards, your back was against the stone wall of his makeshift bedroom. His fingers trying to unbutton the top clasp of your navy casual shirt, bought from a Crow vendor Lucanis had brought you to not that long ago. His patience lasted about as long as it took you to blink before he ripped the garment open, buttons falling to the ground around your feet.

Before you could chastise him about the now ruined shirt, the words died in your throat the moment his hands were on your bare waist. His blunt, well manicured nails dug into your skin, as he pressed your body against the wall, his lips finally on yours.

This wasn’t the first kiss you and Lucanis would have shared, but it certainly was the most heated. Every kiss with Lucanis had stopped before it went anywhere, his lips pulling away as soon as you tried to deepen it, never giving a reason but always retreating afterwards. But the way Spite kissed you, the way his tongue invaded your mouth, marking what you knew he’d refer to as his territory. You were trapped between him and the wall, his hands slipped down from your waist until he could roughly grab your ass, keeping your hips against his as he rutted against you, moans and grunts flowing from his mouth every time it wasn’t covered by your own lips.

“Had to…” He spoke into your mouth, his words fading as though he forgot he was even speaking “had to watch him. Watch him kiss you. Terribly.”

“Spite” you tried to sound as though his sentence offended, but it ended up coming out far more breathy than intended.

“Could smell you. Can always smell you. I always tell him. Tell him you want this. But he never listens to me.” He’s back to your neck, lapping at your skin, dragging his tongue down to your collarbones, his hands kneading the fat of your ass.

”Spite, I think- ah- I think it’s Lucanis’ turn.” Spite laughed against you, biting at your collar hard enough you weren’t sure if he had drawn blood or not.

“He’ll stop.” His mouth sank lower, nipping at the tops of your breast, “I know you don’t want to stop. Can smell it.”

“Spite, please.” Reluctantly he pulled away from your chest, your eyes meeting his glowing purple sockets, and somehow you could have sworn you saw his expression soften for a fraction of a second. You reached forward, cupping his cheek as you had done countless times to Lucanis, hoping the demon found the same comfort in it that the Crow did. He pressed his cheek into your palm,

“Will I get. Another turn?” You couldn’t resist nodding, finding yourself thinking how cute he was, despite the fact he was still pressing you against a wall and had torn your shirt in two.

You watched the demon blink, his purple eyes closing and reopening with black pupils, brows furrowed in confusion as he stared into your eyes, blinking a few times as though he was trying to clear sleep from his vision. Lucanis’ breath quickened, immediately trying to assess the situation that he had just woken up in. “Did he hurt you?!” His tone was dripping in anxiety as he stepped away from you, your hand falling from his cheek as he hurriedly looked around.

His eyes moved down your body then back up, pausing before repeating the same thing, slower this time. The tips of his ears burned red as he realized what had happened as he unknowingly slept. “Mierda” He looked down at the buttons that lay around your feet.

It was impossible to not notice how he was straining against his slacks, his eyes everywhere but your gaze. “I-I sho- I should go” You wanted to stop him, grab him by the wrist before he was out of reach, but your mind was still foggy with lust and craving more of what Spite had been giving you, but this time you wanted to feel Lucanis’ lips against you.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but you knew it couldn’t have been that long, leaning back against the wall behind you, hoping the cool stone would help clear your thoughts and bring back some reason.

By the time you went to go find the Crow, the sky surrounding the Lighthouse had shifted to black, the pieces of debris still floating around the buildings as though it were as normal as clouds in the sky. As you climbed the rickety stairs that led to the top of the dining hall you glanced around the courtyard, trying to see if any of your companions were out. You expected to see Emmrick on the balcony of the main house where he so often went at night, taking note of the ethers in the Fade. But tonight there wasn’t a soul outside apart from you, Lucanis and Spite.

He stood at the far side of the roof, bent over the railing, his head hung down so his forehead was resting against his arm. No matter how quietly you approached him, he always knew you were there. You could tell he knew by the way his body stiffened, his shoulders tensing and his head moving so he was looking out over the courtyard.

He needed time, time to figure out what had just happened, how far things had gone, time for his unexpected erection to go away, and time away from your intoxicating scent. But of course you were coming up the wooden steps not long after him.

He tried to pull himself together, locking his eyes on the back of the wolf statue in the middle of the courtyard, the cool ‘night’ air was the only thing that was keeping his cheeks from turning pink again. You stood beside him silently, leaning over the edge of the building, taking in the view of the Lighthouse.

You could feel how uncertain he was, his hands clenched the railing, his posture even straighter than normal as he pretended like he was taking in the sights just as you were. The breeze reminded you of your open shirt, which you tried to hold close with one hand while the other pushed through your bangs in an attempt to ease your uncertainty. “I’m not sure what to say.” You laughed awkwardly, desperate to break the silence that stretched between the two of you.

“Then why say anything.”

“Because I’m worried if I don’t start talking, you might never speak to me again.” You hazarded a look at him from the corner of your eye, hoping to gauge his reaction to some extent, but it remained stoic.

The silence stretched on until the sky darkened even more, the colour the same shade of blue as the Crows’ armor when you first laid eyes on him. You fidgeted anxiously, changing positions over and over again as the time passed, until you had your back to the railing, head up looking for any kind of star above you. “I should have been more careful.” It almost sounded like the words were meant for himself rather than you, as though he were reprimanding himself.

“Why?”

“He could have hurt you…I…I could have hurt you.” You couldn’t stop the little scoff that slipped out, turning to look at him with a smile across your lips, meeting his eyes for the first time since Spite had relinquished control. “Is now really the time to laugh?”

“If you think I couldn’t take you in a fight, you’re sorely mistaken, Crow.” You watched his eyebrow raise, the corner of his mouth following, but only slightly.

“Are you trying to change the subject?”

“I don’t know,” You sidestepped, bringing your shoulders closer so you could nudge against him “Why, is it working?”

“This is serious, Rook.” He turned to face you, his hand on his hip as he shifted his weight. “I let my guard down, and you…he forced himself on you.”

“That’s the thing,” You stood up straight, turning to look at him fully while you rubbed at the back of your neck, knowing that the next thing out of your mouth had the potential to end your relationship before it had really started. “He didn’t force himself on me, he more…initiated it, I guess.” You watched his eyes narrow, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “I could have pushed him away if I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t?” There was an underlying disgust in his voice, as though the thought of being with him was so vile he couldn’t even pretend to understand.

“I didn’t.” The silence left as heavy as the weight of the world that seemed to live on your shoulders. He broke what little eye contact you had held, shifting his weight as he put more of his weight on the railing, his hair slipping from behind his ear.

“Why didn’t you?” His voice was quiet, if there had been even a bit of a breeze, you may have missed his question all together.

“Because I wanted it.” You watched his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening so you could see his teeth grind. “But I wanted it from you.”

“From me?” You couldn’t stop the small laugh that slipped from your lips at his clearly, surprised tone.

”Lucanis,” You leaned against the small wall, one hand on the railing the other perched on your hip. “This can’t possibly come as a surprise.” He looked over at you, cheeks just a hint of pink.

“I just- I didn’t know you wanted���that.” He dropped his eyes again but not before dragging along the sliver of bare skin he could see between the seams of your torn shirt.

And to think he had touched you, kissed you, dragged his hands down your bare skin, and didn’t get to enjoy even an ounce of it.

“Consider this your formal announcement that, Lucanis-“ You stepped closer to him, waiting a beat before he too straightened, turning to face you so you could press your forehead to his. “I desperately want exactly what Spite was doing. But I want to try it with you.” The only response you received was a low hum that you felt rubble from his chest and into yours as he grabbed your waist and tugged you against him.

[entitled-fangirl]

I won’t burn you.

Jace Velaryon x Targaryen!reader

SMUT

Summary: After the Battle at Rooks Rest, the reader is upset at Dragonstone. Her betrothed comforts her.

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, heavy makeout, talks of death

Masterlist

…………………………..

Jace's eyes didn't leave her body.

Y/n Targaryen stood among the small council table of Queen Rhaenyra. A green at birth, Alicent's second daughter and youngest child, she now stood next to the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Across the table, Rhaenyra’s heir and the girl's betrothed, Jace.

The two had been betrothed to make amends between the two houses during Luke's petition of Driftmark.

And when Rhaenyra decided to take her children home and return later to King's Landing, she had proposed taking Y/n with them so she may get to know Jace more. Though hesitant at first, Alicent was persuaded to agree by Viserys.

Now, Y/n remained loyal to Jace through the betrayal of her brothers.

Rhaenyra admired the girl's bravery throughout the ordeal.

Now, months later, Y/n stood at the table, utterly silent and motionless, save for the steady stream of tears that ran down her face at the news of the Battle of Rook's Rest.

Her brother injured beyond repair. Rhaenys dead. Sunfyre gone. Meleys paraded around King's Landing like a war prize.

It was the first time she had cried at Dragonstone.

Jace stood on the other side of the table, watching in pain as she weeped in silence.

The council was speaking, he was sure of it, but he couldn't tell what. Nor did he quite care.

He had offered to fight that battle.

In anyone world, Vermax may have been the war prize paraded.

He wanted to help. He did. It seemed he never knew how to help.

The moment Rhaenyra called an end to the meeting, Jace rounded the table to his betrothed. He took her face in his hands. His eyes darted across her face rapidly before his voice came out softly, "Please stop this."

Y/n's eyes finally looked up at him with her teary gaze, and Jace felt breath leave his body.

"My love, please," Jace tried again, not caring for the others in the room.

Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper, "Why must it all end in fire?"

He wasn't sure what to say to that. "It's… it's in our blood."

She pulled herself from his grip, wiping at the tears herself. "My brother did not even wish to be king, and now he lies in a bed, half-dead. And for what? The feud between our mothers??"

"Watch yourself, my love." He warned, "Do not say the wrong thing just because you are upset."

She pushed his chest lightly, "You don't understand!"

His face morphed into one of anger, "I don't understand? Your brothers live. Where is mine? Slain by one of yours! I DO understand. More than you know!"

She shook her head as fresh tears warmed her face, "Please do not shout at me."

Jace scoffed lightly and crossed his arms, "Do not be unreasonable."

"I wish I was not who I am."

She began to rush out of the hall.

Jace opened his mouth to call out to her, but nothing came out.

…

Y/n had spent hours in her chambers with the door locked. No servants or guards were to bother her.

Her weeping could be heard throughout Dragonstone, making the Prince's gut tear itself in two.

But only when his betrothed's servant came to him to tell him of Y/n’s refusal of food did he do anything.

…

A knock sounded at the door.

Y/n sniffled and her soft voice called out, "Leave me."

"It's Jace."

"I said leave me."

"No."

She turned to look at the door. "Leave."

"Not until we speak."

She cursed lightly for his Velayron stubbornness.

"I won't come in until you say the words."

She finally gave in. "Fine. Come in."

Jace slowly opened the door, a tray of food in his hand. He closed the door behind him before his eyes settled on her frame.

Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the tears, a few still escaping down her cheek as she sat on the floor in front of her bed.

He stood awkwardly, not sure what to do.

Finally, her meek voice spoke up, "Forgive me."

His head tilted, "W…what?"

"Forgive me." She sniffled, "I said awful things to you. You know the pain of loss more personally than I ever shall."

"That's not true," he said as he stepped towards her, setting the tray on a table. "You lost your father only months ago."

"He was your grandsire."

"Still."

She continued, "And you've lost Luke, Princess Rhaenys, your father Laenor, your-" She stopped herself. "Your mother's… guard."

Jace looked down at the floor. "Yes, but I… it is different with me."

"I don't see how."

When Jace finally looked back to her, unshed tears swam in his eyes. "I don't know."

She sniffled, "Please just say you'll forgive me."

He knelt down next to her, looking deep into her eyes. "You know I will."

She reached up, brushing his unruly curls from his face before connecting her lips with his.

Jace's body wracked with sobs as he pulled her into his lap. Her kisses became more passionate, intent on showing her feelings through them. His tongue darted out to her bottom lip, and he was quickly granted access to her mouth.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"You know I love you, Jace."

He stopped himself, pulling his lips from hers, "We should stop here."

She leaned forward, connecting their lips again, "I want you, Jace."

He shook his head, "We're not to marry until after this war. I won't sully you."

"I don't care. I need to feel you. Please."

He nodded, his hands pulling her hips closer and reconnecting their lips.

Her hand moved to his hair, pulling lightly.

"Onto the bed," he murmured.

She quickly left his lap, standing and beginning to pull at her dress.

He smiled as he wiped his tears and stood with her, "Let me."

He stood behind her, his lips leaving open mouth kisses against her neck as his fingers unbuttoned the small ones down her back.

She let out a small moan, resting her head on his shoulder.

When the buttons were undone, he tugged her dress down, making it pool at her feet. Now only in her shift, she turned in his hold and kissed him again.

His hands moved to her hips, and he walked her into the bed, playfully pushing her onto it.

She let out a grunt as her back hits the covers, but she laughed lightly at his antics.

He made quick work of tugging off his clothes, leaving him in his small clothes. He then joined her on the bed.

As he crawled over her, she grabbed his face gently, "How do you do it?"

He sniffled from his past tears, "Do what?"

Her thumb brushed over his bottom lip, "Suddenly I don't mind being consumed by fire as long as it is from you."

His lips pulled into a bright smile, "I won't burn you.”

She pulled him to her again in a desperate kiss.

Jace's hands began to pull her shift up to her hips. He pulled away to look at her, "Are you sure?"

She nodded.

"Please, I have to hear it. Please."

She smiled, "I want you, Jace. As much as you'll give me."

He pushed her legs up by her thighs, "I'll give you anything you want." He then made agonizingly slow movements as his body began to move lower and lower down hers. She waited with bated breath.

Jace had never pleasured a woman before. He was rather terrified of failing. But he was intend on trying.

His face lowered between her thighs. He felt breath leave him at the sight that laid before him.

He slowly lowered himself the rest of the way, licking a long stripe up her slit.

She let out a gasp from deep inside her.

He looked up with a hesitantly, "Does that feel good?"

Her hand trailed to his hair, "Please don't stop."

She could feel his smirk against her as he continued his motions.

It was experimental, continuing the things that made her gasp or when her grip on his hair tightened.

When his nose brushed her clit, her hips jerked back as a sinful moan left her mouth.

He reached up, holding her hips steady as he continued.

His tongue moved deep into her now, wanting to moan along with her.

"Jace…. Oh gods, Jace…."

He pulled away and brought himself up to her face again, kissing her deeply. She let out a small whine at the taste of herself on his tongue.

He grinned, "Not like it?"

She let out a calming breath, "Just feels strange."

"Want to stop?" He asked with a tilted head.

She immediately shook hers, "No. No, please don't."

He smiled, "Pretty girl."

Their lips connected again in a heated makeup.

She let out a small gasp when his fingers began to toy between her thighs, and he took the opportunity of her open mouth , letting his tongue explore her.

All-consumed by Jace, she gave in completely, her eyes closed and her lips slowing against him.

When his fingers slowly entered her, her entire body froze.

"This alright?" He whispered when he noticed her stiffness.

She gave a whimper but nodded her head.

"Jace…"

"You're so beautiful."

His fingers began to pump very slowly, his pants tenting at the feeling of his fingers in her.

She pushed herself up to kiss him but his fingers curled and her open mouth paused inches from his own.

He couldn't help the smirk that came to his lips. "You like that?"

She breathed out heavily, her eyes meeting his. "You… You know I… I love you."

"I love you."

"Burn me, Jace."

He kissed her jaw lightly, "I'll never mar your pretty skin."

…

They returned the next day to the council meeting in new spirits. Daemon's eyes moved between the two with a knowing look.

He knows the look of a man that's pussy whipped.

Perhaps he could get Rhaenyra to move the wedding closer.

……………………………

[uhbambii]

Warm Evenings

Lucanis Dellamorte stretched out lazily on the plush couch in the sitting room of his family villa, the soft glow of the evening sun streaming in through the large windows. His dark hair was slightly mussed from Rook’s fingers combing through it absentmindedly earlier, and his deep brown eyes, rich and warm as espresso, glimmered with a rare tranquility.

Rook lay draped against his chest, her head nestled just below his chin. Her slight frame fit perfectly against him, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a soothing counterpoint to the muted sounds of the villa beyond their cozy cocoon.

“You know,” Rook murmured, her voice soft and laced with amusement, “Viago and Teia were at it again earlier.”

Lucanis chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that made Rook smile. “Flirting like their lives depend on it?”

“Always,” she replied with a laugh. “Viago was leaning against the doorway, reciting some ridiculous poem, and Teia just ate it up. She’s pretending she doesn’t care, but we both know she loves it.”

Lucanis grinned. “You’re right. Teia would gut someone for saying she has a soft spot, but the moment Viago walks in…” He trailed off, tilting his head to look down at Rook. “I don’t know how they manage to keep a straight face half the time. Maybe they think we don’t notice.”

Rook smirked, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her finger. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

“Subtle?” Lucanis scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “They’ve redefined the word ‘obvious.’ Honestly, I’m tempted to start flirting openly with you just to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “Oh? And how would you do that, Lucanis Dellamorte?” Her tone was playful, teasing.

He smirked, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’d start by dramatically throwing myself at your feet, professing my undying devotion.”

Rook burst out laughing, the sound light and infectious. “You’d never!”

“I would! And then I’d serenade you from the balcony. Viago would have to unwillingly listen to his little sister be serenaded.”

Her laughter only grew, and Lucanis grinned triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself. “Mark my words, uccellina, One day, you’ll even find me reciting sonnets in the middle of the market square.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, her voice still thick with laughter.

The gentle warmth of the moment wrapped around them like a soft blanket. Slowly, Lucanis’ breathing evened out, and his arms grew slack around her. Rook tilted her head slightly to look up at him and found his eyes closed, his lips parted as he slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Carefully, she shifted in his arms, wiggling free without waking him. She paused for a moment, watching the way the evening light highlighted the sharp planes of his face. He looked so peaceful, so at ease. Smiling softly, she padded off to the kitchen.

——————————————————————————

As Rook padded into the kitchen, her thoughts swirled with the comforting idea of freshly brewed coffee. She reached for the kettle and set it on the stovetop, humming softly to herself. The soft clinks of cups and spoons echoed in the cozy space as she moved about, the domestic rhythm soothing and familiar.

Just as she began scooping coffee grounds into the pot, two warm arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her gently against a solid chest. Lucanis rested his chin on her shoulder, his dark eyes still a little hazy from his nap, but his lips curved into a small, mischievous smile.

“Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Trying to sneak off and leave me alone. Shame on you, uccellina.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “I was making coffee, not abandoning you. Big difference.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You could’ve woken me, you know. It’s cruel to leave me cold and alone while you’re in here, hoarding all the warmth.”

Rook laughed softly, placing a hand over his where it rested on her waist. “You were too peaceful to wake up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate the smell of coffee more than me nudging you.”

Lucanis tightened his hold slightly, swaying them both gently from side to side. “Fair point,” he admitted. “But now that I’m awake, I think I should help. Or, at least, supervise.”

“Oh, you’re supervising now?” she teased, tilting her head to glance at him. “You don’t trust me with coffee-making? Afraid I’ll make a Neve brew?”

“You wound me,” he said dramatically, his dark eyes sparkling with humor. “I’ll have you know, I can make an excellent cup of coffee. In fact, I’m better at it than you and definitely Neve.” He chuckled.

“Big words for someone who’s holding me hostage instead of grabbing the sugar,” she shot back, smirking.

Lucanis laughed, his breath warm against her ear. “All right, all right. I’ll grab the sugar.” He reluctantly released her, stepping away to rummage through the cupboards, his tousled hair falling into his eyes. Rook watched him for a moment, her chest tightening with an inexplicable wave of affection.

When he returned with the sugar jar, he set it on the counter and leaned against it, watching her as she poured the boiling water into the coffee pot. “You know,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer, “this is nice.”

“Making coffee?” she asked, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Being here. With you. Doing something so… normal,” he said, gesturing to the scene around them. “I’ve had enough chaos in my life to know how rare this is.”

Rook paused, her hands stilling for a moment as she looked at him. His dark eyes held hers, earnest and warm, and the weight of his words settled over her like a soft blanket. “I think I needed this too,” she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with the same tenderness.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth tilting upward in that roguish way that always made her heart flutter. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers as he reached for the cups. “Now, let me prove to you that I’m more than just a charming face. I’ll finish the coffee, and you can sit there looking adorable.”

Rook laughed, swatting at his arm. “Adorable? That’s your grand romantic line?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” he shot back with a grin, deftly pouring the coffee into the cups and adding just the right amount of sugar and cream to each. He handed her a cup, their fingers brushing briefly, and for a moment, the kitchen fell quiet, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

As they stood there, sipping their coffee and exchanging soft smiles, Lucanis suddenly reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the line of her jaw as he looked at her with an expression so full of warmth it made her knees weak.

“I hope you know,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “that these little moments with you? They’re everything to me.”

Rook felt her cheeks flush, but she met his gaze steadily, her lips curving into a small smile. “Lucanis…”

“No, let me finish,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’ve been in places— the Ossuary… where I didn’t know if I’d ever feel… this. This kind of peace. But you—you’ve given me that. You’ve given me so much more than I ever thought I deserved.”

Her heart swelled, and she reached up to rest a hand on his chest. “You deserve all of it,” she said softly. “And more.”

Lucanis’ smile widened slightly, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You’re going to make me fall even harder for you, Rook,” he teased gently, though his tone was thick with emotion.

“Good,” she whispered, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Because I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the smell of coffee wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Eventually, Lucanis chuckled and stepped back, lifting his cup with a wink. “Now, let’s see if my coffee-making skills really are better than yours.”

Rook rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “If they’re not, I’m making the next pot.”

“Deal,” he said, clinking his cup lightly against hers. “But I warn you—I plan on winning this argument. And every other one after that.”

“Dream on, Amorino,” she teased, laughing as they wandered back to the sitting room together, the warmth of their coffee and their shared love making the villa feel like home.

———————————————————————————

Cute little cuddly moment, while also bullying her brother…. Yes!

Uccellina = little bird/little crow

Amorino = Masc. Ver. Of darling

Also deserved, Teia and Viago have some… open dialogue

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[girlwithadragonheart]

A Court of Crows and Rooks

Rook x Lucanis

Requested by @cirillabelle

Summary: What happens when the First Talon of the Crows requests you by name for a job? All eyes are on you and the Demon of Vyrantium as you take to the floor of a Trevisian Masquerade.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Assassination, creepy man

A/N: This was so fun to write! I hope you enjoy <3

DATV Masterlist

The note arrived with the scent of lavender and the heavy, unmistakable wax seal of the First Talon. You didn’t touch it at first. It sat there on the table, pristine and foreboding, as if opening it might unleash something you can’t take back. The address was what unsettled you most. Not “Veilguard Operative.” Not “Agent.” Just your name.

Rook De Riva.

It was signed in the slightly shaky, swooped script that you knew was Caterina’s handwriting.

You had sent for Teia as soon as it had arrived, needing the moral support before you could even open it.

“Congratulations,” Teia says, leaning over your shoulder with that sharp grin of hers. “The First Talon doesn’t call for just anyone. You got her attention.”

You scoff, pushing the note toward her. “If it’s so special, you read it. This is clearly a job for a Talon, not… me.”

“Don’t be a coward,” she teases, snatching it up before you can protest. Her eyes flick across the elegant Antivan script. “Well, well. Looks like you’re going to a masquerade.”

Your stomach twists. “A what?”

“A masquerade. You know, dancing, intrigue, a den of vipers dressed in silk and lace.” Teia folds the letter neatly and presses it back into your hands. “And you’ll need to dress the part.”

You glance down at your worn leathers, the daggers strapped securely to your thighs. “This is the part.”

“Not this time,” Teia says, already calling for an attendant. “You’re going to look stunning. “Deadly, but stunning.”

--------------------------

The mirror feels like an enemy, but you can’t tear your eyes away.

The gown Teia had commissioned fit like a second skin, the dark blue silk pooling around your feet like shadows. When it caught the light, the fabric sparkled like stars at midnight, just enough to look expensive without being gaudy. The dress was skin tight with a deep V cut to accentuate your chest and curves. There was a high slit, nearly up to your hip on one side. The hem was embroidered with silver vines, adding a touch of elegance you’ve never thought to claim.

The mask, silver filigree laced with Sapphires, hid enough of your face to make you feel anonymous, though it left plenty of room for scrutiny.

You don’t recognize yourself, staring in the mirror. Your lips have been colored with a seductive burgundy, making them look fuller than you thought possible.

“That’s the point,” Teia says, grinning as she adjusts the mask on your face. “They’ll never see you coming.”

When you step into the main room where the others wait, silence falls. Teia’s grin widens as she steps back to admire her work. Viago gives an approving nod, already slipping into his own role for the mission.

Lucanis is the last to react.

He stands near the door, and for a long moment, he just looks at you, his expression unreadable.

“You are not going alone,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“I’m going with you.” His voice is steady, leaving no room for argument. “For your protection.”

“I don’t need--”

“Yes. You do.” He steps closer, towering, but not intimidating. There’s something resolute in his tone, something that makes you pause. “I won’t let you walk into that room full of snakes alone.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that.

-----------------------

The ballroom is overwhelming the moment you step inside.

Golden chandeliers hang high above, casting a warm glow over the sea of silk and satin. The air is thick with perfume and intrigue, every masked figure playing a part in a grand, dangerous game.

You glance up, seeing Lucanis crouched in the rafters in his leathers. He gives you a subtle nod, and you tear your eyes away, trying not to draw attention as you head inside. Head high, don’t let them smell your fear.

A dance begins soon after your arrival, the music shifting to a lively rhythm. Teia and Viago have already melted into the crowd, leaving you feeling exposed.

Your eyes scan the room slowly, your hands folded delicately in front of your midsection as you gaze at the onlookers. Many sets of eyes are on you; you can feel the weight of them as you walk. Men and women rake their eyes over your form, some practically drooling.

A heavy-set magister with a leering smile---appears before you. His gaze lingers a little too long on your figure as he extends a hand.

“My dear, may I have this dance?”

Your stomach twists, but you force a smile, placing your hand in his. “Of course.”

The dance is a careful game. You keep your movements precise, your steps measured, all while his hand slides lower than it should and his grip tightens.

“So,” he says, his tone dripping with false charm, “you must be new to this sort of thing.”

“I get by,” you reply coolly, resisting the urge to yank his hand away.

He chuckles, leaning in closer. “Perhaps we could---”

Before he can finish, a shadow looms behind you.

Lucanis, now dressed in formal attire with a sleek black mask, steps in smoothly, his hand covering his heart as he bows slightly. “My apologies, I couldn’t help but notice your beauty among these dogs. May I have this dance, my Lady?”

The magister hesitates, his gaze flicking to Lucanis before he forces a tight smile. “Of course.”

You let out a quiet breath as Lucanis guides you away, his hand steady against your back. “I had it handled,” you mutter, though your heart is still racing.

You take a moment to study the crow---his dark Antivan suit tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders and thin waist. His mask is simpler than yours, a sleek black piece that lets his brown eyes show through. Lucanis glances down at you, his expression unreadable beneath the mask. “You shouldn't have to.”

The music slows, and the couples around you draw closer together. Lucanis doesn’t let go, his hand still firm at your waist. His other hand takes yours, his touch warmer than you expect.

“You’re blending in better than I thought,” he murmurs, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

You smirk faintly. “Part of the job, right?” Your gaze holds his, but your smirk falters. “Lucanis, you look…” Your voice trails off.

“Clean!” Spite hisses through his teeth.

You can’t help the slight laugh that bubbles from your chest, tight with anxiousness. “Nice,” you say. “Handsome.”

His lips twitch in the ghost of a smile, but his eyes remain sharp, scanning the room even as you move together in time with the music. His focus is unshakable, though his grip on you doesn’t waver.

“You’re staring,” you tease lightly, trying to break the tension.

“I’m watching,” he corrects, his tone steady but quieter now.

You move as one, each step drawing you closer to the center of the room. Your heart pounds in your chest, but you keep your face neutral, aware of the eyes watching you. As the song draws to a close, Lucanis dips you low. The motion is fluid, practiced, but as he holds you there, his grip tightens just slightly.

You’re close enough to feel his breath against your lips, his chocolate eyes locked on yours. For a moment, the rest of the room falls away.

Then he pulls you upright, the spell broken as quickly as it was cast. “Focus,” he says gruffly, releasing your hand.

You exhale slowly, forcing yourself to steady your breathing. “I am focused.”

Lucanis doesn’t reply, but the faintest flicker of a smile crosses his face before he steps back, the mission pulling him away once more.

It isn’t over yet, but your breath catches as you watch Lucanis slip into the crowd. For a man so popular, he disappears like smoke, weaving through the throng of silk and secrets with a grace you hadn’t quite been able to appreciate until now.

Your heart still pounds, the echo of his lips leaving your skin warm and your mind foggy. Shaking it off, you glance around, searching for Teia or Viago. They’re somewhere in this sea of masks, playing their parts as flawlessly as always. You envy their ease.

Lucanis’s words echo in your mind. Focus.

Easier said than done.

By the time the next dance begins, you’ve managed to slip into a rhythm. The first few exchanges were tense---too tense---but now you move with calculated grace, careful to keep your face neutral and your voice light. The target is watching you again, his lecherous gaze sweeping over you as you pass by.

You force yourself to smile, to keep your movements slow and deliberate. If he thinks you’re easy prey, all the better. A pretty, oblivious smile and doe eyes was all it took to entrap a man like him.

“Careful,” a familiar voice murmurs in your ear, and you nearly jump.

Lucanis is at your side again, his broad frame cutting an imposing figure even in formal attire. He doesn’t look at you, his eyes scanning the crowd, but his presence is a relief you hadn’t realized you needed.

“I thought you were blending in,” you say quietly, keeping your voice steady as you turn slightly toward him.

His lips twitch in the barest hint of amusement. “You’re drawing too much attention.”

You arch a brow. “Isn’t that the point?”

His eyes rove over you, following the dips and curves of your skin and exposed flesh. “Not all of it is friendly.”

You glance past him, noticing a pair of masked figures watching you from across the room. Their posture is relaxed, but there’s something about the way their heads tilt toward each other, their whispers concealed behind their masks, that sets you on edge.

Lucanis follows your gaze, his expression hardening. “Stay close.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, his hand brushing yours as he steps closer. The touch is light, barely there, but it sends a shiver down your spine.

When the music shifts again, Lucanis offers his hand. His posture is formal, the gesture deliberate, as if daring you to challenge him.

You hesitate for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip is firm but careful, his touch steady as he leads you onto the floor.

The eyes of the room are on you, everyone else dancing branching out to give you space. You can feel it, but Lucanis’s focus never wavers. He’s calm, confident, and entirely unbothered by the attention.

The music kicks up, and he spins you, pulling your back to his chest, one hand splayed over your stomach, the other guiding you by the hand. The steps are simple at first, the kind you’ve practiced a dozen times in training. But Lucanis moves with an elegance that makes it feel effortless, guiding you with a confidence that’s hard to ignore.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you murmur, your voice just loud enough for him to hear.

“I’m full of surprises,” he replies, his voice smooth and low, his beard tickling your ear as he speaks right into it.

A second later, you’re spinning away from him, his grip on your hand warm and firm as it pulls you back, clutching you close. His touch is like fire, burning through your skin straight to your soul. You let out a breath, trying to keep up with his steps.

“You’re good at this,” you admit reluctantly, your hand covering his on your stomach.

He doesn’t reply right away, but you can feel his eyes studying you intently. “You’re better than you think.”

The compliment catches you off guard, and for a moment, you falter. His grip tightens, steadying you before you can fumble.

“Focus,” he says softly, the word almost teasing now.

You roll your eyes, but a quiet laugh escapes you. “I am focused.”

-------------------------------

The target watches you from the edge of the room, his expression unreadable behind his mask. You’re acutely aware of his gaze, of the way he lingers a little too long, as if trying to decide whether to approach again.

Lucanis notices too. His hand shifts slightly, his fingers brushing against the small of your back in a subtle but protective gesture. He leans down to your ear, murmuring so only you can hear. “Get him to the balcony. This ends soon.”

You nodded subtly, and Lucanis disappeared into the crowd again. Immediately, you missed his warmth. The absence of Lucanis felt like stepping into shadow after basking in sunlight. Without him at your side, the weight of the room seemed to press in on you. You let out a steadying breath, forcing yourself to relax into the role you needed to play.

The target was still watching, his gaze lingering on you like a spider waiting for its web to tremble. You met his stare with a coy tilt of your head, your lips curving into a faint, inviting smile. Slowly, you began to weave through the crowd, your steps deliberate, drawing him in like a moth to flame.

He took the bait. His hulking form detached from the edge of the ballroom, his movements smooth but predatory. The mask obscured his features, but his posture screamed arrogance. He thought he’d won already.

You led him toward the open doors leading to the balcony, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you stepped outside. The space was quieter, the music and chatter from inside muffled. Stars sparkled overhead, their light glinting off the silver trim of your gown.

“I couldn’t help but notice,” he began, his voice thick and dripping with false charm, “you’ve captured the attention of the entire room tonight.”

You turned to face him, the corner of your mouth twitching upward. “And yours, it seems.”

“Of course.” He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing the soft glow of the lanterns. “A beauty like you doesn’t go unnoticed. Though I must admit, I’ve been curious about who you truly are beneath that mask.”

His hand reached for it, but you stepped back with a playful laugh, keeping the distance just enough to leave him wanting. “Now, where would the fun be if I gave away all my secrets?”

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hunger. “Perhaps I can persuade you.”

The air shifted, the predatory undertone in his voice setting your teeth on edge. You glanced toward the shadows near the balcony’s edge where you knew Lucanis would be watching. The target was close now, too close. His hand grazed your arm, and your pulse quickened---not with fear, but with the need to act.

“You’re quite bold,” you said, your voice light but firm as you stepped back again, toward the railing. “And here I thought Tevinter men were supposed to be more subtle with their charms.”

The target smirked, following you like a hound to prey. “We are, but I’ve always found boldness more… rewarding.”

His hands grabbed your hips, sliding lower as he pulled you into him. You hummed, your hands splaying out over the railing behind you. The cool stone was solid beneath your palm, grounding you. 

“And what is to be your reward tonight?” You asked coyly. 

He smirked. “Oh, my dear. The reward is you.” He leaned in, flashing his teeth in a predatory smile. Your hand slipped to the dagger hidden on your thigh. As he went for your neck with his lips, you went for his with the blade. Your touch was light with your free hand, tilting your head as though to allow him access. Before he could taste your flesh, your dagger sunk into his skin. 

Blood splattered across your cheeks, matching the darkness of your painted lips. The magister tried to cry out, but gurgled as blood filled his throat. You stepped out from under him, watching his body tumble over the side of the balcony.

“Ta ta, darling. So sorry, I must’ve slipped. A shame you couldn’t catch me.” You smirked, hearing a dull thud from the ground below.

A hand started to slip around your waist, and you turned, pinning them to the wall with a dagger to their throat. Lucanis’s lips upturned. You pulled the blade away, sheathing it back under your dress.

“That was exquisite, Rook,” Lucanis said. “For all of Viago’s complaining, he was right about one thing.” His hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you close to mutter in your ear. “You make a wonderful Crow.” He pulled back to look at you.

“Lucanis, you’re staring again,” you flushed from head to toe under his gaze.

“Perhaps I’m simply watching. It’s hard not to with such a beautiful woman before me,” his lips turned up, chocolate eyes appraising you.

“Who knew the Demon of Vyrantium was a flirt,” you teased.

“Ah, no, you seem to have mistaken me for Illario.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.” Your hand fists in the collar of his formal sirt, pulling him toward you.

Your lips meet, and Lucanis pulls you close, one hand on the small of your back, the other gripping your hip. You hear the music swell inside, fireworks going up into the air and exploding, bathing the gardens below in warm light. Lucanis leans over you, bending you backward, your hands gripping his shoulders as he holds you up.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Let me know if you want to be on the Lucanis tag list!

Have a good day/night!

[merakiui]

What if NRC was like a regular college with communal showers? The dingy little cubicles are only separated by the cheap, thin plastic of the shower curtain, not very secure at all, anyone could shove it aside to find yuu naked, dripping wet and completely defenseless. The floor is so slippery, if she tried to run she would only fall and cripple herself further. Trying to keep quiet so no one else showering knows you’re getting pornstar railed just a few feet away. Oooo and vouyerism too. Innocently showering while someone stalker-y like rook, Lilia or jade furiously tug at their dicks imagining you lathering up your body with your signature soap that turns their brain into goop. Or iida watching you through hidden cameras he installed in the shower you regularly use 🤭🤭🤭

>:) imagine a few sneaky students steal your towel or bathrobe, so when you finish showering and you reach for it it's not there. >_< do you make the run from the showers to your room in hopes that no one will catch you, or do you try to ask someone in the showers to borrow their towel?? But then they'll know you're without a towel, and NRC students just love to have others in their debt, especially you since you're the only girl on campus... ;;; you really do hate these communal showers. T_T

And the shower curtains!!! So thin and so easy to pull down or yank aside. Maybe they can see your silhouette against it or your feet peeking out from the little space between floor and curtain, and he's right there with all sorts of naughty ideas in his brain.

Maybe you live on the floor with the Housewarden, and you call for him whenever something happens because he's responsible and will know how to handle these issues, right? But then it depends on which Housewarden you're in direct contact with. ^^;;; Idia is a perverted voyeur. Azul wants to know what you'll do for him in return before he decides to drape his jacket around your shivering, naked body (and you don't miss the way his eyes creep downwards). Malleus doesn't understand. Are you calling for him in this state because you hope to be taken to bed?? :D he can do that!!! Leona is probably the only one willing to knock some sense into his dorm members and (though he'll scoff and grouse) he's always there to answer your call.

Riddle almost slips on the floor and passes out when he sees you naked for the first time because he didn't realize you had nothing to cover yourself with. He's tracking down those troublemakers at once and having them kicked off the floor! >:( Kalim,,,, T_T he'll undress and hop in the shower with you, and then the both of you can share the towel afterwards! Yay for mutual shower time!!! :D Vil is an actor, so he can easily avoid staring at your body as he wraps you up in one of his fluffy, expensive robes. These "pranks" are done in such poor, invasive taste. He'll be sure to lecture the brutes who stole your towel/robe. Perhaps you ought to spend the night with him in the meantime, just to be safe? :)

Shower sex with Floyd....... T_T omg or or or!!! He's just come back from the practice for his respective sport and is so exhausted and tired and just,,, throws open the curtain to your shower because it's the closest one and he doesn't feel like waiting for the water to warm up in the other showers. orz

[deadlysoupy]

my take on who gets most props with caterina in a romance with lucanis, based on rook's faction. (rook de riva gets a free pass, at least she'd be familiar with their family members, but any other rook? there's going to be... some friction) (open to discussion! i have not played many factions i'm just basing this on my experiences)

gray warden rook might not be too bad. i think she'd respect someone in their position, constantly facing death and fighting against evil. it'd be a little bit too "knight in shining armour" for her and she'd still be sceptical, but they'd be off the hook for now. tolerable

shadow dragons aren't too fucked either since minrathous' been taken over by venatori, i'd say she'd even sympathise with them. same goal. raised by the military? also not bad, probably knows discipline

mourn watch rook is also an interesting case. sure, they're freaky, necromancy is definitely not caterina's soft spot, nor is any mage business, and this is where the tables start to flip. they aren't from a noble house, (i think) they don't have much to their name, they're a Crypt Baby, which is very funny but also so unapproachable to caterina. if they're sophisticated and smooth like emmrich, though, i could see her warming up to the idea. very slowly

veil jumpers??? whoo boy let's go into an uncharted territory. dealing with anything magic- or fade-related would probably set her off so much, i think it would take years, if not decades, for caterina to come to terms with that. they're an enigma she can't figure out. their job is dangerous, but they do it for free?? what is it that they even do??? 3\10 she wouldn't recommend

(my personal favourite) lords of fortune come last. where do i even fucking START. she would be absolutely FURIOUS to find out her beloved grandson thrashed in bed with rook laidir. are you kidding me. those no-good treasure hunters? i wouldn't be surprised if one of them stole something from the crows, possibly even house dellamorte. they have no privileges, they have no estate, they're a pirate, their leader is Isabela, for Maker's sake, they collect gold because Shiny, they killed a noble for threatening to take over the country. there's no winning here. no matter how you look at it lof rook would be her least favourite. i think they'd get a lot of support from teia and viago (well, more teia) but it still wouldn't win them a lot of favours. she might even try to separate them at some point. imagine the drama

[kirain]

Since it was basically stolen from us....can you maybe write a fic where Rook comes back to Emmrich after he pulls them from the Fade?

The world was a dizzying swirl of light as Vae felt herself pulled from the Fade. One moment, she was locked in an endless cage with the guilt that clawed at her heart; the next, she was being dragged through a rift, her senses overwhelmed by the sudden solidity of reality.

With a loud crash, she landed on something soft and warm.

"Ugh!" a familiar voice grunted beneath her.

Opening her eyes, she found herself sprawled across Emmrich's chest, her tangled hair hanging between them. As she sat up, their wide, shocked eyes met, frozen for a heartbeat in time.

"Vae!" someone screamed. Then a cheer erupted around them. The sound of her team's unadulterated joy was like a rush of air after drowning, but it barely registered.

Emmrich shifted to his knees, his arms wrapping around her in an instant. "Darling..." he choked. His embrace was fierce, as if he worried she might vanish again at any moment.

"Emmrich?" she murmured, her head still reeling from the shock. Solas' betrayal, Davrin and Assan, Bellara, Varric—it didn't feel real.

"You're back," he gasped, his voice breaking. "You're back."

His words in her ear, the smell of his cologne and sweat—that was the tether. The proof she needed. Her arms instinctively wrapped around him as well, her fingers bunching in his shirt.

"Emmrich..."

Around them, the cheers slowly began to wane, replaced by a soft, reverent silence. Tears welled in Harding's eyes, but she managed a shuddering smile. Neve, wearing an almost imperceptible grin, gave a single nod of approval while Lucanis gripped her arms. He could feel Spite stirring, though for once he welcomed the uncomfortable tug at his psyche, the bitter spirit unusually blissful. Even Taash, who rarely let their mask slip, looked visibly relieved, their hand a comfort on the back of Harding's head.

But the moment was unbearably bittersweet, Bellara, Davrin and Assan's absence inescapably loud. One taken, two fallen. Vae felt a sharp pang in her chest, but she pushed her emotions aside.

There would be time to grieve later.

"Thank you," she said, staring up at them. "All of you, for saving me." She smiled, her gratitude more sincere than they could ever know. "Let's get back to the Lighthouse. We need to figure out—"

As she tried to pull herself up, Emmrich's arms tightened, keeping her grounded.

"Emmrich?" she blinked in surprise. "Come on. We need to—"

"Not yet," he whispered, his voice weak. "Please... not yet."

Her chuckle came out playful but uncertain. "You're being dramatic," she teased, patting his back. She tried to stand again, but he refused to let go.

And then she felt it—the trembling. His entire body was shaking, his breaths shallow and erratic.

"Emmrich?" she asked, her tone shifting to one of concern. "What—what's wrong?"

He didn't respond, his face pressed against her neck, the short bristles of his beard—which were normally never present—poking at her skin. The air grew heavy, the joy draining away as the others exchanged uneasy looks.

"He's been like this the whole time," Neve said, breaking the silence.

"What?" Vae glanced at her, confused.

"We were all a mess while you were gone," she continued, her voice thick with sorrow. "But Emmrich... he barely ate, barely slept. He just kept trying to find a way to bring you back."

Vae's brow furrowed as he clung to her like a lifeline. "What do you mean? I was only gone a few minutes. Maybe an hour."

Lucanis shook his head. "No, Vae. You've been trapped in the Fade for nearly a week."

"A week?" she yelled, looking around at their worn, overloaded faces. "That can't—I was only—!"

She paused. The exhaustion in their eyes, the way she couldn't account for all her memories—it was true. She'd been gone far longer than it seemed. How exactly, she couldn't say, but she knew it must have been tied to the curse. She grit her teeth, a cold anger at Solas churning in her throat.

"Nearly a week..." she wheezed.

"It felt longer," Harding admitted, her expression pained.

Vae swallowed, her gaze turning to Emmrich. Slowly, she pulled away, and what she saw made her breath hitch. His silver hair, usually so neat and distinguished, was wildly uncombed. His shimmering brown eyes, though cast down in embarrassment, were noticeably swollen, hollowed by dark edges. And although his clothes still carried the scent of his most expensive fragrance, his fingernails were coated in dirt and ink. His skin was pale and clamy, a thick stubble sprouting along his jaw. He hadn't shaved or bathed in days.

With a wince, Vae touched a hand to his cheek. "I'm so sorry," she rasped, her voice quaking. "I-I didn't mean—"

"Don't," he interrupted, gently tucking her hair behind her ear. "Don't apologise. None of this is your fault... and you're here now. That's all that matters."

With a sob he couldn't quite suppress, he pulled her back into his arms, somehow tighter than before.

Not wanting to intrude, the rest of the team turned and walked away, their footsteps retreating down the path.

"We'll meet you back at the Lighthouse," Neve offered, her voice laced with understanding. "Take all the time you need."

Vae sighed, her heart aching as she melted into Emmrich's embrace. "I'm here," she hushed. "I'm here."

"My darling..." he whimpered. "I was so afraid I'd lost you. Forever."

She nuzzled closer, shaking her head. For a moment, her hands drifted up his back, then curled over his shoulders with a tenderness he desperately missed.

"Never," she promised. "Never again."

She held him as though her touch alone could stitch his broken pieces back together—and after a while, it did. The tension in his body began to ease, the weight of his fear ebbing bit by bit as she pressed a soft kiss to his temple.

"Vae..."

Slowly, he pulled away, his gaze flicking to her lips. Then, suddenly, he closed the space between them, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was anxious, raw—a collision of longing and relief, of anguish and ecstasy, of every emotion he'd buried since she'd disappeared.

"Don't stop," she moaned between breaths.

His hand slid to the back of her head, cradling it as the intensity of his fervour pushed her backwards. And she met him with the same fiery passion, committing every movement to memory, her lips dancing with his, eager to draw him from his pain.

"I'm here, Emmrich. I'm home."

Their kiss deepened, becoming a silent vow—one filled with unspoken words and a single, undeniable truth: they would never face the world without each other again.

[taurasiscntybun]

Breaking in the rookie pt 2

- 18 plus minors DNI

- DT x fem reader (no y/n)

- warnings: Adult language, graphic descriptions of sex, Dom/sub, age gap, degradation/praise, mommy kink, spit, light impact play, oral (giving)

-3,300 words

-Thanks to my editor and fellow h*rny sister @taurasicomplex

The drive to your team apartment was full of nervous energy, her black suv following your own car closely as if she didn’t know how to get there, a lie of course, she was well aware of how to get to the team housing but it seemed like some sort of intimidation tactic.

“Fuck, what the fuck was I thinking, Jesus my house isn’t even clean.” You say to yourself as you pull up to the apartments. The reality of her being in your home hitting you.

Diana follows you into the breezeway and up the stairs, her tall frame a looming presence at your back; it was both nerve wracking and intoxicating. You open the door to your one room apartment and usher her inside, glancing around at the unpacked boxes you flush a little in embarrassment.

“I, uh, haven’t finished unpacking.”

“Yeah I can see that, it looks like a fucking tornado in here.” She glances around the living room then back to you.

“Well I wasn’t expecting company.”

”You invited me?”

“That was an accident”

”You accidentally invited me to your house?”

”It was an impulsive invite, don't judge my house and take your shoes off please” You shut the doors behind you and kick off your shoes, leaving you in your mismatched colorful socks. She follows your lead and pulls off her sneakers, her socks a nice matching black. You motion for her to sit on the couch, quickly tossing the nest of blankets and fluffy pillows to the end. She watches you closely as you walk to the kitchen, her eyes tracking you like a predator watching their prey. You open the fridge and pull out the cheap bottle of peach fizzy wine and grab two mugs from the cabinet.

“You don't even have wine glasses? Shit it really was an accident inviting me over.” She watches you walk back into the living room and you can see she’s already made herself at home; reclined on your couch with her legs spread in front of her, she’s so easily taken over your space, her presence making the room feel smaller than it is.

“Uh I usually just drink everything out of mugs to be honest, I like the handles.” You pass her a mushroom shaped mug which she takes although she looks dubious.

“You can’t even have normal mugs? What are you five? Why the fuck is everything covered in flowers and shit.”

“It’s a mushroom not a flower, flora and fungi are two separate things.”

“You know they call me a fun-guy”

“That wasn’t even a good joke Dee.”

“They can’t all be winners, though statistically I am. Sit down and open the wine, you're acting like a skittish little animal, I don't bite unless you want me too.”

“I- Jesus, Dee you just say anything dont you.” You sit down on the opposite side of the couch, next to your comforting wad of pillows and blankets, all of them a different pattern making the pile a chaotic mess of color.

”I mean most of it, just kinda comes out, its always what I’m thinking.” She shrugs and reclines more, resting one of her hands behind her head, the other holding the mug out to you for her drink. The mushroom mug looks tiny and out of place in her obscenely large hand. You try not to think too hard about the implication she might be thinking about biting you and instead focus myself on unscrewing the cap.

”I know the wines gonna be shit if it's a screw top, that shits peach does that even count? Gonna taste like Im drinking fucking juice.” She complains as you fill her mug with the light pink wine, it fizzes a little threatening to spill and she quickly slurps some of it. You stare half dazed at the way her lips wrap around the rim, her tongue licking up the slight spill down the side.

“You ok there rook?” She flits her eyes up at you, the warm brown pools of dark honey searching your face.

”Yeah sorry, just embarrassed at my shit pour.”

“God this shit tastes like a bad hangover, at least we have afternoon practice tomorrow.” She complains but takes another sip. You fill up your own mug and suddenly half the bottle is gone.

“Drink some water, you'll survive.” You settle a little more in your seat, tucking your feet under you and reaching for the remote. Your two positions so different, her open and almost demanding space and you tucked up in the corner of the couch. You open your WNBA app and click to the game from tonight. You immediately mute the audio, not wanting to hear the announcers constantly gassing up Diana and probably criticizing you. Cindy and Anne were kind and a lot more forgiving to you as announcers but still you knew they’d have shit to say about your tech and you didn’t need it.

Halfway through the game and the whole way through the bottle of wine you pause it.

”Why are you being so nice? You haven’t criticized my plays at all, not even my missed layup.”

“Sorry I was trying to be supportive.” She snorts and finishes off her second mug of wine. She pauses her drinking and looks at you, her gaze intense as she studies you.

”Do you.. do you want me to be mean? It fucking seems like you do, what do you like it when I get all mad?” She teases and leans a little closer to you; you're still plenty far apart but she’s suddenly dominating the shared space. You laugh nervously and try to play cool even though you're obviously flustered.

”No I- don't be ridiculous who would want such a thing it's just unexpected.” You babble out and seem to shrink back against the side of the couch a little more. She sits her mug on the floor and leans in even closer, her body angling towards you now.

“I don't think that's true, rook. I think you invited me over specifically to berate you a little bit. Is that what you want? You want me to punish you for getting a tech? Tell you what a shit job you did today?” Her voice drops lower as her eyes search your face; despite her bravado and bold words you can tell she’s a little nervous she might have crossed a dangerous line. You swallow your nerves and decide to be bold as well, assuring her that she is reading you right.

”Maybe I do.” You say softly your voice nearly a whisper.

”Hmm what was that? Speak up rook.” Diana teases, her voice taking on more of the commanding tone she used on the court, proving she definitely heard you but wanted to hear you say it again.

”I said maybe I do. Maybe I like it when you get onto me. Maybe I like you a little mad.” You jut your chin out defiantly and she grins.

”I see, you brought me here for your own fantasy right? Are you gonna get off to me yelling? Wait till I leave and reach your hand down your cute little pink panties?” She moves even closer, reaching out to grab your leg, tugging you closer with a smug grin.

”I- fuck Dee you can’t say shit like that unless you mean it.” You say then gasp as she forces you to close the distance, her large hand feeling like a brand on your skin even through your sweatpants.

“What you think I don't mean it? Hate to break it to you baby but I’ve been thinking about the little bow on your panties all night.” Diana's voice drops to a husky whisper as her hand creeps further up your leg. You look at her, mouth agape at the implication.

“You can drive me crazy out there in your little rolled up fucking shorts. I can almost see your ass half the time. Was that your plan? Make yourself look like fucking candy to me so Ill come over?” Her hand brushes the inside of your knee and you look from her hand to her face and see no hint of teasing. She means it.

”Maybe I want you to think about my ass. Having dirty thoughts about your rookie.” You shoot back and she gives a huff.

”I can’t help it when you serve yourself up to me like a fucking dessert. Tell me what you want rook. You have to tell me you want this or ill stop right now and we never have to talk about it again.” She pulls her hand away slightly and you realize she wants your permission to continue, she wants to make sure you really want this too.

”Fuck. Yes Diana, I want you.” You say with more conviction than you meant. Her answering grin is practically feral as her hand touches you again, this time on your inner thigh and tighter.

”Let me guess you want me to order you around? You want me to be like I am on the court? Tell you you're acting like a little slut inviting me over like this.” Her words are phrased as a question but you suck in a breath nonetheless.

“Y..yes I do,” You hesitate for a moment, “I want you to tell me what to do, order me around Diana. I..I'm your little slut tonight.” Your voice is a little shaky as she continues her slow ascent up your thigh.

“Aww what was that baby, I'll need you to say it again, like you mean it.” You didn’t realize she had gotten so close, her large frame practically draped over you, caging you in.

“I..” You clear your throat. “I'm your little slut and I want you to tell me what to do.”

“Good girl, see, was that so hard? Now get on your fucking knees.” Her voice dropped an octave as she clearly commanded you. You move without a second thought, sliding off the couch and sitting back on your heels, the empty wine bottle clatters over; the sound loud in the suddenly tense space.

“Closer baby I can’t quite reach you all the way over there.” She reclines back on the couch and spreads her legs again, signaling you to rest between them. You move between her legs and lift to your hands to the waist of her shorts but she grabs your wrists quickly.

“So eager already. Turn and watch the tv baby, the games only half over.” She pushes your hands off her and roughly turns you so you're facing away from her and to the tv. Diana turns the tv back on and reclines again, absently stroking your hair, her strong thighs half trapping you between them. You lean into her touch without meaning too and her hand suddenly grips your hair, pulling your head back so your eyes are locked on the tv.

“You missed my perfect assist right then, you fucked up my game. What do you have to say for yourself baby?” Her fingers dig into your scalp as she leans down to you, her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“I..I’m sorry.” You stutter and she releases your hair and leans back up, her hand patting your cheek slightly harder than you were expecting.

”Good girl, you should be fucking sorry.” She goes back to her slow almost petting of your hair and you lean against her thigh. Diana uses the opportunity to let her hand wander down to cup your cheek then her fingers brush against your neck. Your heart rate spikes under her soft but claiming touch.

“You’re so worked up baby, relax.” She practically purrs and traces a finger down your pulse point, just dipping under your collar. She hooks her finger under your bra strap and lets it snap against your skin, You let out a tiny gasp, your breath picking up even under her slow touch.

”Diana” You say in a needy whisper, she’s barely done anything but already worked you up into a needy mess. Her hand stills.

”What baby?” She asks in a softer tone, worried she’d gone too far.

“I.. I need you please” You beg and immediately she resumes her touch, satisfied that you're enjoying this.

“You think you deserve a reward already baby girl? So greedy.” Diana leans back up and places both hands on your shoulder, her lips right by your ear.

“I'm feeling generous baby since you’ve listened to me so well.” She nips your earlobe, tugging it between her teeth gently.

“You wanted me so bad earlier, ok babygirl you can have some of me. Turn around.” Her last words are a command as she spreads her legs a little more and lifts her hips to tug down her shorts. You turn quickly and help her pull down her shorts, your fingers hook under the waistband of her boxers.

”No, I didn’t say you could do that yet, you have to earn it babygirl” She gently strokes your cheeks, the caring motion seemingly at odds with her stern words.

“O..ok” You say, a little unsure what to do.

“You can touch me baby, make me want you, drive me crazy.” She pats your cheek again before reclining back on the couch, she seems to not even pay attention as her eyes watch the game. You swallow your nerves and tentatively kiss along the inside of her thigh, one of your hands going up to her boxer clad core.

”You're so shy now baby, touch me like you mean it.” She grabs your wrist and presses your hand more firmly against her cunt. You use your thumb to press against her, she’s in control but you can feel how wet she is through her boxers. She lets out a low groan as you return to kissing up her thigh, you're more confident in your movements now, kissing and sucking, alternating thighs as your hands still rub her through her clothes.

”That’s it baby you're doing so good.” Her hand tangles in your hair again, her hand just resting on the back of your head. You nip and suck the inside of her thigh and groan again, her fingers tightening.

“Keep fucking going. You like to talk so much on the fucking court, use your fucking mouth now princess.” You can’t stop the small moan that escapes you as you lick up her cunt, her wetness mixing with the taste of fabric in a surprisingly erotic way. You push your face harder against her, sucking the fabric into your mouth a little.

“Fuck that’s right baby, you want to taste my pussy dont you?” You nod against her and flit your eyes up to meet hers.

“Your words princess, you have to use your words.” Her grip tightens in your hair again.

”I want your pussy, please Diana let me taste you.” You say, the need in your voice is surprising even yourself.

“Ok baby” She lifts her hips to help you pull her boxers off, your own cunt dripping with need as you see her bare before you.

”Fuck” You say quietly, taking her in for the first time. To you she’s perfect everywhere and her cunt is no different. She’s not shaved but not wild either, the dark hair matching her curls; she’s already so wet, her pussy practically glistening and inviting.

“Go on baby, you wanted me so bad.” Her tone is commanding but you can hear the hitch in her voice telling you she needs you just as much as you want her. You don’t answer with words but instead lick up her folds, your face half buried against her. You moan as her taste hits your tongue and she lets out a sharp breath, clearly restraining herself.

“Don’t be a fucking tease baby.” She says, her voice a little shaky now. You move faster, your tongue lapping at her clit greedily, hands braced on her thighs. Diana lets out a low groan and pushes your head against her more. You move your face down a little, your tongue swirling around her entrance.

“Fuck baby you're such a good girl such a good fucking girl.” Her hips rise off the couch a bit to meet your mouth. You moan and suck her folds into your mouth, using your tongue to flick at her clit.

“God dont fucking stop, just like that baby, make me cum.” Her hips buck slightly and her eyes flutter closed. This spurs you on and you move with vigor, sucking and slurping at her clit, moving up and down from her core and back, the lewd noises mingling with her quiet groans.

“Fuck, shit, good baby, good girl, eat my fucking pussy princess fuck dont stop.” Her words are a breathy babble as she starts to grind against your face more, her movements growing sloppy. You move one hand from her thigh and and circle your thumb around her entrance as you lavish her clit. She lets out a strangled groan as you push two fingers inside her.

“Oh god baby fuck” She pants her hips bucking. You crook your fingers, brushing against her inner wall and suck her clit into your mouth. She gasps and her eyes fly open.

“Im gonna cum baby, Im gonna cum all over your fucking face and you're going to take it, fuck look at me when you make me cum.” She commands and you can feel her tightening around my fingers. You bring my eyes up to meet hers. Her face is flushed, her pupils blown out in lust. You pump your fingers in and out of her, hooking them slightly, swapping between swirling your tongue around her clit and sucking it into your mouth. Finally you can feel her on the brink and you let your teeth scrape gently over her sensitive bud.

“Fuck!” She gasps and her legs shake slightly, her grip on your hair turns mildly painful as she grinds her cunt against your face. You pull your fingers out and immediately replace them with your tongue, lapping up her release greedily.

”oh god fuck baby you're so good fuck so good.” She pants as she comes down from her high. You don't stop until she tugs your face away gently.

”Enough baby.” She says softly and pulls you to stand up. You suck your fingers into your mouth not wanting to waste any of her. You look at Diana in a daze, intoxicated by her. You pant slightly as you crawl up her, she closes her legs and maneuvers you to sit in her lap.

“You did so good, baby girl.” Diana says, her hand rubbing your back.

”You taste so good mommy.” You whine and she stiffens slightly her hand stilling.

”I.. fuck I’m sorry I-“

”Say it again.”

“Y..you taste good?”

“Don’t be dense.”

“You taste so good… mommy” You blush and she shivers

“Fuck I didn’t know I’d like that.” Diana says softly and moves her hand to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing absently.

“I know you want me in charge baby but I have to follow your lead, I don’t want to take it too far, tell me what you want.” She sucks in a breath.

“Tell mommy what you want her to do to you.” You let out a small moan at her words and squirm in her lap, desperate for friction.

“I want you to do whatever you want, I want you to use me. I..I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much, I’m not made of glass.”

“My fierce rookie, my little slut.” She grips your cheeks, her fingers digging into the skin and forcing your mouth open.

“Stick your tongue out baby. Open wide for mommy.” You obey and stick your tongue out immediately, tilting your head back slightly.

“You’re so obedient for me baby, such a good little slut.” She lets a string of spit fall from her mouth onto your waiting tongue.

“Swallow.” Diana uses her hand to force your jaw shut and you swallow, a shiver running through you at how dirty this is.

“Fuck you’re so good baby.” She coos and strokes her thumb across your bottom lip softly

[cosmiccrushes]

This Isn't A Good Idea

Lucanis x Rook x Spite || 1.5k words

on ao3 too

summary: just a little scene expansion. couldn't resist thinking about what Lucanis and Spite went to talk about after that almost kiss.

~~~~~

Lucanis shudders back into his body, standing in his room. He shakes his head to clear the layer of fog over him. Rook is several paces away, watching. 

“Rook?”

“You were sleepwalking.” 

“Spite was sleepwalking.” Insufferable demon. 

“He didn’t go anywhere. Nothing happened,” Rook offers, as if that makes up for what his negligence has allowed. 

A frustrated twitch of Lucanis’ head. “I didn’t want you to see that. Again.”

“Nothing I’m seeing makes me want to look away,” Rook replies, a soothing balm to his anxiety. 

“How do you always do that?” The marvel filters through his words like sunlight. Threatening to illuminate what should remain in the dark. 

“Do what?” She asks, brows scrunched in confusion. 

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom.” He gives her the truth, which he so often subterfuges to hold her at arm's length. “You deserve better than to deal with my mess.” A warning, a plea. 

A glint sparks in Rook’s eyes. “You’re more than what you’re going through. And you wear it well.” A heat bubbles beneath her words, warming his blood.

“This isn’t a good idea.” Lucanis steps towards her anyway, a demon pulled in by the thing it craves. 

“Sometimes a bad idea is better.” Her voice crackles over him, smoldering charcoal on the coldest night.

“You like to walk a little close to the edge.” Lucanis’ voice drops low of its own accord. He leans into her space, places his arm against the wall by her head. A physical barrier to hold his distance from her. He does not feel his usual control over his actions. It’s the wanting guiding him now. He’s so tired of fighting it. She makes it so hard to fight it, with those eyes always looking at him as if she sees him, all of him. 

Rook matches him, leaning in, a seductive smile curling her lips. She taps a finger to his chest. “So do you.” 

“At least I know I’m doing it.” Does he, though? Know what he’s doing right now? As his head tilts to meet Rook’s. As he inhales her sweet, earthy scent. 

Melon…and woodsmoke, Spite whispers. A thrum of pleasure radiates off the demon, blending with Lucanis’ own elation in the moment. 

Lucanis halts, drawing back from Rook. “I…need to clear my head.” He walks backwards away from her, horrified with himself. “Excuse me.” 

He exits before she can respond, not looking back. He can’t bear to see if there is hurt on her face, anger, or perhaps just a sorrowful resignation. He grows weary of denying himself, but he’s not sure what he would do if she ceased giving him something to deny.  

Lucanis walks briskly, climbing the stairs to the balcony outside of the dining hall. Air, he needs air. He needs to chase away the smell of Rook lingering on his skin. 

Spite hisses his frustration against Lucanis’ teeth. Why. Did you leave? 

Lucanis ignores the demon, hands gripping hard onto the balcony’s railing.

We want Rook! Go back to Rook! 

“No! You don’t get to want anything. You don’t get to have anything!” Lucanis’ jaw hurts from how hard he grits his teeth. 

Why. Deny us this? Spite asks, genuine curiosity in his question. 

It is not safe for her. Lucanis can’t believe he’s having an argument about a woman with a demon. 

At first, he had tried not to pay attention to Spite’s growing obsession with Rook. But whenever he was in the same room as her, Spite was there, banging against his mental cage, demanding to speak to Rook. Bloodying Lucanis’ nose when he refused the demon. Even when Spite was quiet, Lucanis could feel him tracking Rook’s movements. A hunter stalking unsuspecting prey. It chilled Lucanis’ blood. He didn’t know what Spite’s intentions were and he refused to give the demon the chance to act upon them.

This couldn’t keep happening. Lucanis could not lose control over Spite. Nightmare visions of surfacing to consciousness, finding himself hovering over her unmoving body haunted his every waking moment. You didn’t get to kiss a woman you were secretly terrified of murdering in your sleep, Lucanis reprimands himself. 

Why not…it is what…you want, Spite coaxes. Smells so good…

Like melon and woodsmoke, Lucanis registers Spite’s earlier whisper. 

“Stop smelling her, demon.” Lucanis wants to bash himself against closed fists. Anything to dull the demon's leisurely stroll through his mind and senses. 

Can’t stop…you won’t stop…

Lucanis sighs. Therein lies the crux of his problems. Was it Spite who was obsessed with Rook…or him? Did Spite’s eyes follow her in every room, or did Lucanis’? It’s not the first time he’s faced this revelation. 

From the moment Rook broke into his watery prison, he'd been intoxicated by her. A woman so fearless that she dared to stand against gods. Her own gods, even. Dared to believe in others to do the same. She'd come for the Demon of Vyrantium. When she found a literal demon in his place, she did not bat an eye. She has never once looked at him like he is an abomination. 

Yes… Rook understands us, Spite persuades. 

“That doesn't mean anything! It's my responsibility to protect her.” As a fellow Crow, of course. Viago would take out his own contract on Lucanis if anything happened to Rook. Then Viago would fulfill it himself, slowly. 

Protect her? From what? Spite sounds so earnestly surprised by this that it gives Lucanis pause. 

“From your spite.” Lucanis feels mildly absurd, reminding a demon of its nature. 

Another hiss from Spite. I do not want to hurt Rook! 

Lucanis wishes he had a mirror so he could stare at the demon behind his eyes. “Then what do you want?” Lucanis asks cautiously. He’d assumed that, even a demon infatuated, would not diverge from its inherent nature.   

Spite’s contemplative grumble rumbles through his mind. Melon and woodsmoke… The demon breathes. Venom and vengeance in her heart…

Lucanis waits but Spite says no more. So you like the way she smells…and her anger? 

Spite hums his affirmative. We like our blades…striking with hers. We like our malice…drawing blood.

This, Lucanis has felt too. How their steps synced in a dance of retribution against the Venatori. Every swing of her blade a wrathful reckoning. Lucanis caught himself daydreaming more than once about what it might be like to take a contract with her after all of this was behind them. What it might be like to take every contract with her.

An unfamiliar and alarming feeling for Lucanis to deal with. He didn't think of people like this, with yearnings for long term plans. By the time he caught himself in daydreams of Rook, it was too late to unravel whether he or Spite had felt it first. It hardly mattered anyway, it didn't change what Lucanis felt and it couldn't change what he must do about it. Which was nothing.

You're scared, Spite observes. 

“I'd be a fool not to be wary of a demon,” Lucanis snaps back. 

True, Spite acquiesces. But not…with Rook. I would not hurt her. The demon pauses for a moment. I would not hurt something…so important to you. 

Lucanis is baffled. “Why? You are Spite. It's in your nature to hurt.” 

Spite is silent for so long Lucanis thinks he won't answer. Then the demon materializes next to him. A disturbing, shadowy replica of himself. 

This is why, Spite gestures to himself. We are trapped. Together. Hurting you so deep, Spite growls, tossing his head. Would hurt me. 

Lucanis watches him thoughtfully. “It would hurt you, because you care about Rook too.” 

Spite bares his teeth but doesn't disagree. Rook knows us. We trust Rook. Rook is ours. 

Lucanis can feel Spite’s possessiveness flow through his own veins, twisting around his heart. “She's a person. You don't own someone.” Lucanis chastises. 

Then what? Again Spite's curiosity is so solemn that Lucanis can't help but laugh, short and rough. 

“Mierda. I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I've never–” He swallows hard. “It's only ever been Rook.”

Only Rook, Spite echos, nodding his head. 

Lucanis turns, leaning against the wooden railing. “Of all the things to have in common with a demon,” he says, shaking his head. 

We can go back to Rook now? Spite asks eagerly. 

“No,” Lucanis says sharply, earning him a howl of outrage. “Like I said, this isn't a good idea.” 

Rook likes bad ideas! Spite yells indignantly. 

The demon certainly isn’t wrong about that. But at least this was one bad idea he could prevent.

Rook. Gets. To choose. Lucanis hates how Spite isn’t wrong about this either. It should be Rook’s decision. It’s not Lucanis’ place to make it for her. But the thought of revealing this strange reality to her petrifies him.  

He sighs, leaning forward on the railing, the wood edges digging painfully into his elbows. How was he to explain to Rook that not one, but two demons have fallen in love with her?

[biserker-kadan]

Just kicking my feet and screaming about Ev'lyn, Lucanis and Spite.

Like, Lucanis waking slowly in the middle of the night reaching out for Ev'lyn and brushing his fingertips against her arm before sliding closer and peering at her only to find Spite standing over her just...watching.

"Spite? What are you doing?"

Watching. Protecting. Our Rook.

"She's fine, she's here. Spite, she-"

Taken. Stolen. Not again. Never. Again.

And Lucanis is just blown away because he forgets sometimes that Spite doesn't just put up with Rook. He likes Rook. He trusts Rook.

"Lucanis?" She's blinking blearily at him, face soft and open in a way it normally isn't. Vulnerable in the early hours of the morning beside him, beside them, "Is Spite..."

Smells like. Bread and honey. Warm and sweet.

"He's...worried. About you. About you...leaving." He caves, too long spent hiding thoughts and feelings and fears away from her. Watches as a multitude of emotions flicker across her face before settling on fondness, on love.

She sits up, hair falling over her shoulder as she raises her hand and caresses his face, eyes meeting his as she brushes her thumb over his lips before laying an even more gentle kiss there.

He opens his eyes to see Spite over her shoulder, hands hovering, moving over her body as though he's assuring himself she's actually here. That she's alive.

"Tell Spite that I'm not going anywhere. Not leaving you or him, either of you. Not for anything."

[writerfromshikahr]

A quiet, gentle moment between Rook and Lucanis. Pre-relationship. getting to know each other.

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Romantic Wyverns - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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Rook found Lucanis sitting outside the kitchen, his back against the stone wall, a book open in his hands as the Fade stretched endlessly before him.

"I’ve been looking for you," she said with a smile as she approached. "I need to see your blacksmith. The hilt on my dagger has gone all wobbly." She held up the weapon, giving it a demonstrative wiggle.

Lucanis’s lips quirked into a small smile, his amusement subtle but warm. "Gone all wobbly? Is that a technical term?"

"Well, yes," she replied, her tone mock-serious. "I believe that’s the official way to describe it."

"Leave it with me, Rook. I’ll pass it on to him next time we’re in Treviso."

"Thank you. I appreciate that." She turned to leave but stopped when his voice called after her.

"Want to sit with me for a while?"

Surprised, she glanced back at him. "Ah, sure. I thought you were hiding up here, reading, not wanting to be disturbed."

He smiled softly, setting the book down beside him. "I like your company. Besides, my book was getting a little dull. I’m not sure detective novels are for me."

Rook joined him on the rickety wooden platform, the silence between them comfortable as they stared out at the vast expanse of the Fade.

"You know," Lucanis said after a moment, his voice low and steady, "when I was in the Ossuary, I didn’t think anyone would come for me. I hoped, of course, but as the days dragged on, that hope faded. All I had was Spite, and even that felt like an uneasy alliance."

He glanced at her, his dark eyes thoughtful. "I never thanked you for what you did—for doing what Caterina asked of you. Though I know you had your reasons for wanting me to join you."

"Lucanis," Rook said earnestly, "if she’d asked me to help without any of this going on, I still would’ve done it."

He studied her for a long moment, something unspoken flickering in his gaze. "I believe that."

Another stretch of silence settled between them, grounding rather than awkward.

"The day I was captured… it changed me," he admitted. "I’m not sure I even know the man I am now. But it’s getting easier, even with Spite."

Rook sighed, her voice gentle. "You’re a good man, Lucanis. With a good heart. Don’t forget that."

He let out a wry chuckle, his smile faint but genuine. "I think you’re being too kind with your words. You don’t know how much trouble I can be."

"Trouble? You? Mr. Schedules and Routines Dellamorte?" she teased, her tone light.

Lucanis smiled again, his laugh soft but real. "Point taken."

She nudged the book sitting beside him. "So, if detective novels aren’t your thing, what kind of books do you like?"

He hesitated, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "I like romance… or anything to do with wyverns," he added, his tone brightening slightly.

"Hopefully not romance novels about wyverns," she smirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Lucanis let out a rare, genuine laugh, the sound rich and unguarded. "Absolutely not."

"Romance, huh?" Rook tilted her head, pretending to think. "I wouldn’t have guessed that… but it suits you."

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh, it suits me now?"

"Sure," she said with a grin. "The dark and deadly assassin with the heart of a romantic? I like it."

Lucanis regarded her quietly, his gaze soft. "I’m glad to hear it."

The silence that followed was easy, unhurried. Eventually, Lucanis broke it again. "What do you like to read?"

Rook stared out into the Fade, her expression thoughtful. "I never really had a lot of time to read—though Viago encouraged it, of course. I like adventure books, but… a good romance is always nice to curl up with in front of a fire. Especially if it’s a little spicy."

She shot him a smile, and Lucanis felt his chest tighten, just a little.

"I see…" he replied evenly, though the slight twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

"Did I tell you I walked in on Bellara the other day? She was writing something pretty steamy. I’ve never seen someone shut a notebook so fast."

Lucanis blinked, caught off guard. "Bellara!?"

"Yes! I didn’t know if I should leave or pretend I didn’t hear… it was awkward," Rook said, shaking her head.

"As long as she doesn’t write about any of us, let her have her thing," Lucanis replied with a shrug. "We all need some distractions these days."

"If that’s the case, I need to find a distraction of my own," she chuckled.

Lucanis leaned in slightly, nudging her shoulder gently.

"Then we’ll have to find you one. But first, let’s go to Treviso to get your loose hilt fixed. Perhaps while we wait for it to be mended, we could take a stroll around the market?"

"Just you and me?" Rook asked, her voice softening. "That sounds lovely. I would like that."

She noticed the almost-relieved smile spreading across Lucanis’s face at her acceptance, and Maker, it was adorable. She couldn’t deny it; she found him fascinating, intriguing, and undeniably pleasing to the eye.

[uhbambii]

Of Hushed Whispers

The glittering city of Treviso stretched out under the warm Antivan night, its cobblestone streets alive with the sound of music and laughter. The grand ballroom belonging to Dellamorte house was already packed with elegantly dressed figures, their masks gleaming under chandeliers that sparkled like captured starlight.

Rook adjusted her raven-black mask, her sharp eyes scanning the room. A surge of nerves threatened to unsettle her, though she did her best to bury it. Antiva’s crows were not known for their timidity, after all. Tonight, she was dressed in a sleek, dark red gown that clung to her frame, blending elegance with a touch of menace—appropriate for a crow, she thought.

“You clean up nicely, uccellina,” came a low, familiar voice behind her.

Rook turned to see Lucanis Dellamorte, his dark eyes glinting with mischief beneath a gold-lined mask. His midnight-black suit was impeccably tailored, the deep red accents along the lapel complementing the dark locs that framed his face. His gaze was sharp, but his smile was softer—dangerous, yet inviting.

“And you look entirely too comfortable,” Rook quipped, though she couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Ah, comfort is confidence, no?” Lucanis stepped closer, offering his arm. “Come, dance with me. Let’s show these amateurs how it’s done.”

Rook raised a skeptical brow. “You think you can keep up?”

Lucanis chuckled, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “Tesoro, I was born to lead.”

Without waiting for an answer, he led her onto the polished marble dance floor. The orchestra swelled, and the other masked dancers parted slightly to make way for the pair. Lucanis’s hand slid to Rook’s waist, guiding her as they began to move.

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The music was a lively waltz, and Lucanis’s movements were fluid, confident. Rook found herself following his lead with ease, though she would never admit how much she enjoyed it.

“You’re good,” she said, trying to sound unimpressed, though her heart raced at the closeness between them.

“Good? Amore mio, I am magnifico,” Lucanis teased, leaning closer. His breath ghosted over her ear as he murmured, “And you—well, you’re dazzling tonight. It’s almost unfair to everyone else in this room.”

Rook felt heat rise to her cheeks but managed to roll her eyes. “Sweet talk won’t distract me, Amorino.”

“Distract you?” He smirked, spinning her expertly. “Why would I want to distract you when I can simply enjoy this moment, eh? You, in my arms, under the stars…”

“Under the chandeliers,” Rook corrected dryly, though her smile betrayed her.

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Nearby, Teia and Viago observed the pair with mixed reactions. Teia sipped her wine and raised a brow at Viago. “Would you stop glaring holes into Lucanis?” she chided. “It’s unbecoming.”

Viago, whose dark eyes had been fixed on the dancing couple, scowled. His sharp features were framed by his usual untamed hair, and his black attire was as severe as his mood. “I’m not glaring.”

“You’re definitely glaring,” Teia replied. “Rook’s fine. She’s not some fledgling anymore.”

“She’s family,” Viago said curtly. “And Lucanis is—well, Lucanis.”

“Mm, fair point,” Teia said, hiding a smirk behind her glass. “But I think your sister can handle herself. And besides, she looks like she’s enjoying herself.”

Viago’s frown deepened as Lucanis whispered something to Rook, making her laugh softly.

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The music slowed, shifting to a more intimate rhythm. Lucanis’s hand tightened slightly on Rook’s waist, pulling her closer. Their movements slowed, matching the sultry melody.

“You’re staring,” Rook said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Can you blame me?” Lucanis replied, his voice low and velvety. “You are… breathtaking.”

Rook felt her heart skip a beat. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, aren’t you?”

“Only because it’s true, bella mia,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “And because I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look when you smile.”

Before she could reply, the music ended, and the room erupted in applause. Lucanis took a step back and bowed dramatically, earning a soft laugh from Rook. She shook her head, but the warmth in her chest was undeniable.

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Later that night, Lucanis led Rook back to his villa on the outskirts of Treviso. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine. The rooftop terrace of the Dellamorte villa was a world unto itself, far above the golden lights of the city.

Lucanis led her up to a blanket he had laid out. The view was stunning-stars scattered across the velvety sky, the city lights twinkling below like fireflies.

"Thoughtful," Rook said, sitting down and leaning back on her hands.

Lucanis sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. "I have my moments."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the distant hum of the city. Eventually, Lucanis turned to her, his expression unusually soft.

"You know, Rook," Lucanis began, his tone softer now, "there's a saying about the stars."

"Oh?" She turned her head to look at him, curious.

He nodded, pointing upward. "They say the brightest ones are the souls of those destined to burn the fiercest in life. Dangerous, fiery, unforgettable."

She smirked. "Are you trying to say l'm a star?"

Lucanis smiled, his gaze shifting to something gentler. "No, uccellina. You're the whole night sky."

Rook stared at him for a moment, unsure whether to tease him or let the warmth of his words settle in her chest. She chose the latter, though she couldn't resist a small grin. “Smooth, Amorino. Very smooth.”

"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents." The playful glint returned to his eyes as he shifted closer, propping himself up on one arm.

Rook shook her head softly, then leaned closer. "You're not so bad yourself," she teased, her voice barely audible.

Lucanis chuckled, leaning in until their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss. His lips were warm and insistent, coaxing her into the moment.

Rook melted into him, her fingers threading into his dark hair as the kiss deepened, their surroundings fading into insignificance. When they finally broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, and she swatted his chest lightly.

"You're insufferable," she muttered, though there was no mistaking the affection in her tone.

"And you love it," he countered, stealing another kiss before she could reply. This one was quicker but just as meaningful, his lips lingering on hers before trailing to the corner of her mouth. "Ammettilo," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and teasing. "You'd be lost without me."

Rook arched an eyebrow, though her fingers stayed tangled in his hair. "Bold of you to assume."

"Not bold… truthful," he corrected, reclining back onto the blanket and tugging her down to rest against his chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice turning serious, though there was still a playful edge to it. "I'm the perfect man for you, uccellina mia. Every touch, every kiss— it's all for you."

Rook smiled against his chest, her fingers tracing the outline of his shirt. "Then I suppose I should be grateful you've decided to share yourself with me."

Lucanis chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through her hair. "Cara mia, I'm not sharing— I'm giving my heart to you. And trust me, I'll be making sure you never forget that."

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, her gaze steady. "Oh? Is that a promise, Lucanis?"

He kissed her again, slow and deep, his voice barely a whisper as they broke apart. "Promise, amore. My heart is yours, now and always."

The stars above them seemed to shine a little brighter as they held each other close, the quiet moments between kisses full of promises, laughter, and the kind of love that burned as brightly as the night sky itself.

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So this actually took me 4hrs. to write because I kept changing the ending 🥲

ANYWAYS, I’m turning crumbs to meals! Eat up!

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