#Neve Wilder

[i-dont-read]

my March & April 2023 book ratings

# of books read: 4

Igni Ferroque (Tennebrose #2) by Ashlyn Drewek ★★★★★

False Start (Playing for Keeps #2) by Riley Hart & Neve Wilder ★★★★☆

Defying Logic (Valor and Doyle Mysteries #5) by Nicky James ★★★★☆

Bewitched (Bewitched #1) by Laura Thalassa ★★★★☆

[bookloveravenue]

Playing for Keeps (book 2): False Start by Riley Hart & Neve Wilder

If only my feelings were as fake as this "relationship" with my former teammate.

CULLEN: I’ve been the NFL’s “problem child” since my rookie year. If there’s trouble, I’ll find it.

But my biggest weakness has always been Houston McRae. We were secretly together in college before it blew up in our faces.

So, when I see him again years later, you’d think I’d know better than to end up in an airport bathroom stall tearing his clothes off.

To make matters worse, because of mistakes I’ve made, I find out afterward I’m being traded… to Denver.

Where Houston lives. Because of course.

I’m not taking responsibility for the two of us ending up in a fake relationship. That’s all on him, but I can’t pretend I won’t enjoy it. As long as I don’t let myself fall for him again, I’ll be fine, right?

HOUSTON: I lived, breathed, and slept football until an injury sidelined me for life. Now I’m solely focused on finding my place again… until Cullen Atwood walks back into my life and tempts me into an airport bathroom stall, where every ounce of passion for him I thought I’d buried returns with a vengeance.

Now he’s playing for the Rush…

And staying in my apartment.

And did I mention he’s also my fake boyfriend who makes it clear he still wants me every chance he gets?

I’ve got my future to think about, though, and we’re one wrong move from becoming a tabloid headline. I can’t afford to think of Cullen as anything more than a casual hook-up.

So why do I keep wishing this relationship was real?

False Start is a low angst, high-heat sports romance in the Playing for Keeps series.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/124926416-false-start

********

April 14, 2023

My Review: 5/5 Stars

When Cullen and Houston first got together, they were young and in college working toward their dreams to play in the NFL. But at that time, coming out and playing professionally wasn't exactly easy or the thing to do. Instead of trying to make a go for it, they break one another hearts. Years have passed, and neither have truly gotten over the other. Not that either would admit it. And Cullen is becoming the problem child of the NFL. And his latest stunt changes everything. After running into Houston for the first time in a long time, it leads to a hook up and so many thoughts later. Head not in the game, Cullen makes a bad decision that leads to him being outed. Then traded. But perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, because he ends up in Denver. Right where Houston is. Houston is no longer playing in the NFL after an injury but he has stuck around near his team, his family, and his baby brother who is playing on his old team. When Cullen appears back in his life, he tries everything to stay away. But when the two of them are caught in a compromising position, and Cullen is getting hit with the blame, Houston blurts out they are in a relationship. Now they'll have to navigate a "fake" relationship that feels more and more real every day. This was definitely a fun fake relationship trope story! Cullen and Houston have great chemistry and banter. They were great together and you just want to shake them for being so silly and not realizing that the other was still in love with them and that they were meant to be and figure out a way to make it work. Even when their careers were leading in different directions. This has been a fun series so far and I'm hoping for more!

[booksandwords]

Light Touch by Neve Wilder

Series: Rhythm of Love, #0.5 Read time: 1 Day Rating: 4/5 Stars

The Quote: I wanted to drink him in, spend hours exploring the variant shades of his body. — Quinn Marx

Warnings: None of note.

Light Touch is the story of severely light sensitivity artist Quinn Marx and musician Rufus 'Ru' Merrill. It is told mainly from Ru's perspective, through him we get to know the world and meet Quinn even without knowing his name or story. The story of their meeting is one of my faves. What I do like is the slight flip on the expected dynamic. I didn’t usually bother with musicians. I’d learned my lesson long ago. They were moody egoists, and in my world, there was only room for one moody egoist. Which might have also been the reason I’d been single for months. (Quinn) It isn't the musician with an ego the size of a small planet in this story, it's the artist. No strangers to egos themselves but usually not as frequently in fiction as musos. Quinn is a realist he is the dominating ego and will take no contest, it suits his whole deal really. Ru while having the ego keeps himself grounded, by working a bar and not signing with a label (aka doing it the hard way). This has a really simple flirtation and getting-together plot. It is more of an introduction to the world and some of the characters in it. I do wonder if Neve also wanted to challenge herself by writing a disability with respect.

Some comments and quotes

There are the beginnings of a discussion on bondage. That isn't the direction that Ru and Quinn's sexual relationship goes but I live for discussion of healthy boundaries and knowing your full compatibility. In a way, I think it totally suits Quinn's want or maybe just enjoyment to control.

There were dozens of other attractive people to look at— Nashville was full of them— but like that game I’d played on road trips as a kid where I searched for cars of a certain color, now he was all I could see. Except if he was a car, with that bone structure and sleek build, he’d have been a vintage Oldsmobile F-88, rare and expensive. — Oh... what a pretty analogy. Neve has a way with words. This description in particular just suits Nashville. (Rufus)

For those interested. Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd and Classical Gas by Mason Williams. I'd heard Classical Gas but I didn't know what it was called.

“Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man,” he crooned as I approached. His voice wasn’t half-bad. Deep and throaty. No Bob Dylan, but on key and as sexy as the rest of him. — This is the first time Quinn speaks and I think it charmed me more than more first lines. He and Ru have been flirting in their own way for a week by this point (Rufus, spoken words Quinn)

The scene in the Haunted House is fantastic to me. Weakness in a strong man is something that needs to be shown more. Ru and Quinn have cute costumes. I laughed too hard at Quinn's 🤣 (no spoilers). Ru's of course plays on a nickname 🧛🏼‍♂️.

Ru started laughing, and when I looked down at him, he laughed harder, saying, “This is never gonna happen, is it?” Marco blinked, taking a step backward. “I… should probably just go.” “You’re fine.” Ru and I said it in unison, which had us cracking up all over again. “God, that was creepy. Please don’t ever do that again. So…” Marco cleared his throat, and recentered his attention on me. “I’m just going to ignore Rufus Merrill’s dick— which, I must admit looks quite impressive even in its semisoft state— and ask you: Tequila, yes or no?” — I told you I adore Marco. This is just one reason why. He walks in on his best friend and a semi-naked guy Quinn really likes and just rolls with it. Marco has an ability to put people at ease I'm totally jealous of. (Rufus, Marco and Quinn)

Marco is a brilliant best friend. The moment in the living room while Ru and Marco are cleaning up makes me so happy. He is perfectly loyal and does his best to communicate the wish to protect Quinn while supporting his relationship.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “Like smoke curling up from a fire.” And inconvenient. And endlessly annoying. But beautiful worked if it meant he kept touching me. My heart swelled and galloped in my chest, and I gave in and closed my eyes. “Photophobia—” — Not the first but the best time we see Quinn with his glasses off. I adore these mixed interpretations of it. Quinn's Photophobia is what gives him his severe light sensitivity. It's not one I'd read before, the closest being probably prosopagnosia in Holding Up the Universe (also a severe case). (Rufus and Quinn)

As promised by Neve we do meet characters from future Rhythm of Love books. We know of Les Graves from Dedicated, Quinn's ex, the one that made him swear off musicians. He is matched with his Porter & Graves bandmate Evan. Resonance. I adore Owen okay. We have only a couple of interactions with him. But he's just a ball of light and energy, fuelled almost entirely by sugar. He's the series twink, according to Quinn at least. He is matched with his boss at Grim's Record Repository, Dan Grim. I like the last lines of the blurb. "It’s a steamy slow burn bisexual age-gap, boss/employee romance with lots of banter and two obstinate heroes who really, really don’t want to want the very thing they both need."

I got this one free in one of the many book giveaways I got books from recently. But unlike some of the novellas, I downloaded this is one I would have been happy to pay for. Ru and Quinn have this brilliant game going on. Their game of cat and mouse that I haven't seen in a while. It uses disability well though I would suspect that Quinn has a severe case of it. As with so many of the novellas I'm ready recently 4⭐ because I wish it was just a little longer. I wanted to spend more time with these two and their chemistry.

[cattatonically]

Heart2Heart: A Charity Anthology - Vol. 5 - Edited by Leslie Copeland

My Thoughts

I've seen a few of these floating around my suggestions on Kindle, and have been intrigued for a while. As such, you would think I would start with the first volume. But of course I didn't - I had to be contrary! So here we are, beginning this short story anthology adventure with volume 5!

With short story anthologies, there's always a risk of disliking some stories over the others. With this one, I can honestly say this was not the case for me! I really did enjoy them all! These stories ran me through every emotion - it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, though the happy endings were very heavily implied, and appreciated.

It was lovely to see glimpses into various stories, characters, and places. Each story took the Never Have I Ever challenge and spun it into its own beautiful little world. Honestly, I wanted more! I wanted to see these stories for farther, see where they could go beyond the constraints of the anthology. A few of the stories had very open-ended endings which could lend to this, but I am also perfectly happy imaging them all on my own!

Overall, I am truly pleased I picked up this anthology. I got so many wonderful stories, and now have a whole list of authors to check out for further reading! I will absolutely be checking out the other Heart2Heart anthologies, as well! How can I not?

[nickjgoodsell]

Goodys.Blog's Top 10 Books of 2022!

Goodys.Blog’s Top 10 Books of 2022!

Hey readers! Once again another year draws to a close and that means it’s also time to come out with the annual list of the top books that have been read over here on this blog too! 2022 has been a strange year to say the least when it comes to books, and part of it feel like it’s because towards the end here I’m feeling kind of burnt out with Fantasy-genre titles…but the thing is I don’t WANT…

[elle-enasalin]

Pictured: Tevinter Mage Losing her Absolute Shit

[felassan]

Some notes from today's new BioWare Blog post, which contained some new character insights and also gave some information on what is coming next and when:

Creative Performance Director Ashley Barlow helped to cast and direct over a thousand conversations in the game

Lucanis is bloodthirsty, calculated, and a workaholic. He was raised with high expectations and fears disappointing those he loves. To him, being an assassin is his only job and identity to be excellent at. He's constantly attuning himself to the kind of shifting terrain of every mission. There's a lot of love between him and Illario

As Zach is a comedian, he would easily find the humor in anything Lucanis was saying

Neve is a Shadow Dragons rebel who cares deeply about helping people and never leaves work half-done. Epler: " [she is] the working class hero trying to make her hometown better"

Emmrich is sincere, friendly, scholarly, sophisticated, eager to teach and learn, a well-meaning but oblivious academic, with a "hot nerdiness". He assumes everyone has an academic's curiosity so can be pedantic on select topics

The Mourn Watch are revered in Nevarra but odd at best and evil at worst outside of it

Nick: "I love the fact that the writers took Emmerich and explored the whole idea of death and the whole idea of necromancing by bringing kindness into it. I really responded to that and got into that and I know it sounds crazy, but it’s to not have this idea that death is vulgar or something to be terrified about, but something to actually engage with on so many levels. I just love the fact that the writers had the courage to do that in a game like this."

"Often Nick is just playing off of someone making a sound, and he takes it and internalizes it and gives it meaning and care, which is amazing to watch."

The world has changed a lot since DA:I

Harding has been leading teams through the wilderness while covering friends in battle

Harding loves her mom. She loves to write letters home and is always talking about her mother. She likes plants and raising plants. She has grown and is a veteran now, a trusted voice at the table

Footage of the full DA:TV @ SDCC companions panel should be available in a couple of weeks

Next month there will be a new roadmap, more looks at the game, and the reveal of the release date

[emphasis mine]

And this paragraph:

"Dragon Age: The Veilguard sees players embark on a perilous quest to face powerful Elven gods and stop the apocalyptic destruction they’re unleashing. You’ll step into the role of Rook, battling on the front lines alongside a deep and compelling cast of companions who together comprise The Veilguard, a group of heroes who have come together to stop the veil from breaking and bringing about the end of the world. Rook must become the unexpected leader who can rally and unite the group. Throughout the game, you can explore the detailed storylines of each companion, navigating love, loss, and complex choices that influence your relationships."

[source]

[orionangeline]

Sasuke really was like I am NOT fucking around wit a phone charger and y'know what? He's right

One of my absolute favorite canon facts is that the naruto universe has cellphones and computers, but sasuke refuses to communicate any other way except by bird. He sent letters to naruto via his fucking hawk and meanwhile naruto is in a teams meeting

This fucking dramatic homosexual..........

[hydrangeapartridge]

Rook stumbles upon Emmrich shaving

‌Rook unceremonisouly opened the flaps to the necromancer's tent.

"Emmrich we're leaving so-"

She stopped mid sentence, surprised to find her most recently recruited companion standing before a foldable table full of cosmetic products, holding a mirror with one hand and his cheeks lathered with shaving cream.

Emmrich turned to her, holding up his shaving brush.

"Ah Rook, apologies. It seems I am getting a bit tardy"

Rook froze. Oddly she felt like she just interrupted an intimate moment. Emmrich was dressed in his usual flanel pants and a cream undershirt. His crisp fancy white shirt and his green vest were neatly folded on a wooden stool. She never saw him in such a state of undress and given how many layers he usually wore, she almost felt as if she was intruding on him completely naked.

"I usually manage to be done before you wake. It seems I miscalculated today. I'll be quick, I promise" Emmrich told her before getting back to his previous occupation.

It never occurred to her that he shaved every day. Which was really silly of her obviously; he didn’t magically end up looking dashing and fresh when running around in the wilderness. Despite how he seemed to make everything look simple, it took work, even for him. His camp habits clashed with those of companions like Harding and Taash but Lucanis and Neve liked a bit more comfort in camp.

Rivain’s sun was up early and blazing hot, which explained why Rook didn’t sleep in today. But oh was she grateful it allowed her to see Emmrich grooming.

Despite her urge to stay focused on Emmrich, Rook’s attention was suddenly drawn to a moving form to her side. She soon spotted Manfred running towards Emmrich with a razor, like a disaster waiting to happen.

"Manfred shaves you?" She asked alarmingly.

"Of course not. Manfred is my assistant not my manservant" Emmrich replied, more amused than offended. He wipped his hands clean on a towel and took the razor from Manfred with a small "thank you" and an approving nod of his head.

"Right. I guess I wouldn't let him near my throat with those sharp blades either..." Rook commented, but her humour didn't seem to perturb Emmrich.

"Oh but you'd be surprised with how dexterous he is ! And everyday he makes progress. He's capable of serving tea without spilling a drop now!" Emmrich praised, visibly proud of his spirit protégé.

The necromancer turned to the mirror, which Manfred now held, and started angling the blade towards his cheek the second he stopped talking. Rook watched mesmerized as he shaved a first stripe and elegantly rinced the blade before he continued. Talking about being dexterous… The precisison of his movements, the way his long and elegant fingers, yet to be adorned with his numerous rings, handled the dangerous object near his adam apple, made something stirr inside her. Something warm and improper.

She watched the lean muscles of his arms flex, seeing them free of a shirt for the first time. Her eyes traveled down irresistibly, and below the upper part of his undershirt, she could spot the birth of a small patch of dark chest hair.

"Did you need something else Rook?" Emmrich's voice startled her. His tone was lower than she ever heard it and it made her stomach flip. She looked up to find his brown gaze on her, and it felt oddly intense in the dim light of the tent.

"No. We'll leave when you're done" She hastily declared, internally cursing herself for stuttering.

Emmrich smiled kindly, but there was a mysterious glint in his usually soft eyes. "I won't be long, I promise. I've got practice"

The way he said those last words shouldn't make her feel how she felt.

Once out of the tent, Rook flopped beside the dying campfire with an annoyed groan, burrying her face in her hands in embarassement. Shit. She knew him for a few days and already she was crushing on Professor Volkarin so hard it made her act stupid.

She told herself she would get a grip, but later that day, when she walked alongside him, enamored with the way he talked about studying the flora of Rivain, she caught wafts of the scent of his after shave, a citrussy but rich smell that she instantly wanted to breathe more of. She lost track of what he was saying as she though about caressing the smooth skin of his perfectly shaven cheeks, and inhale his cologne just under his ear where it would mix with a scent that was only his and that she longed to discover. She wondered how his well kept mustache would feel scratching her skin an-

He asked her a question then, and she had no clue what he just said so she only smiled like an idiot. He forgave her with a small chuckle, blaming it on the scorching sun, and repeated his inquiry like the kind gentleman he was.

Her heart fluttered in her chest. Damn she had it bad.

(More EmmRook on my blog or here on AO3)

[lynnerdo]

* Deadly Encounter *

Lucanis Dellamorte x BloodMage!Reader

Slow burn, angst, aggression, enemies to lovers, death threats, OOC!Lucanis, blood and injury, slow romance, threats of violence.

Current chapter - Wilderness First chapter - Arlathan On A03

***

The days stretched longer than any of them had anticipated. What should have been a straightforward quest had quickly unraveled into complications that left Rook visibly frustrated. The dense forests, the icy rivers they waded across, the sleepless nights under the stars—it all weighed heavily on the group. Even for you, who was used to roughing it in the wilds, could feel the strain. 

You had been through it all at this point. A simple quest that was only going to take you 4 days, was taking 12 already. You had fallen into the river more times than you could count, and you still hadn't found the elven artifact you were searching for. Maybe the lead had been dead all along, but Rook wanted to see it through.

But more than the physical hardship, it was the tension between the three of you that pressed on Lucanis, tightening like a noose. You were quieter now, more withdrawn than when you first joined them. Every time your eyes met his, there was something in your gaze that twisted inside him—an ache he couldn’t ignore. Guilt gnawed at him, but he didn’t know how to reach out, didn’t know if he could.

That night, the fire crackled softly, casting long, flickering shadows over their tired faces. Rook sat off to the side, sharpening his blade, his curses barely audible as he worked. He was clearly frustrated, muttering to himself about the way the mission had derailed. His shoulders were tense, his jaw set. He missed the warm embrace of Neve as well, their romance newly found and bright. Having been stuck in the wilderness with you and Lucanis, having to carry most of the conversation, Rook was also slightly done with all this.

Across the fire, you sat quietly, your hands wrapped around a bowl of stew that you had insisted on making. Every night, you cooked for them, even though exhaustion etched dark circles beneath your eyes. Lucanis watched you from the corner of his eye. You took small, deliberate bites, moving like someone trying to conserve their last vestiges of energy. It was nice enough, but your mana was wearing you thin, you had trouble sleeping, you didn't feel safe enough. Every night you feared Lucanis would possibly assassinate you, you feared getting overtaken by a demon, or even worse, losing yourself to mental madness.

There was a quiet strength in how you kept going however, but also a sadness that weighed on you. The toll of your magic was evident in your pale complexion, the faint tremor in your hands, and the hollow look in your eyes. Lucanis had spent days trying to ignore it, telling himself it wasn’t his concern, that you could handle yourself. He was scared most of all, of possible possession, but also about how he would have to kill you if anything did happen.

Tonight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been wrong about you. Every small act of kindness—giving them the larger portions of food, offering them potions when you needed them just as badly, pushing through your own exhaustion to make sure they were cared for—made the knot of guilt in his chest tighten. You were trying, despite everything, despite him.

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. The air was cool, the sounds of the forest creating a symphony of crickets and rustling leaves. Lucanis lay in his bedroll, staring up at the stars, unable to shake the image of your worn face. His mind raced, circling back to the moments when he had lashed out, mistrusted you, let his own fears cloud his judgment. Maybe he should just apologize, but his pride and spite stood in the way of that.

The next morning, as the three of you prepared to continue on your journey, Lucanis couldn’t help but notice the fatigue etched into your features. You packed your things quietly, your movements slow, and the usual strength in your posture seemed drained. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words stayed trapped in his throat. You desperately needed to be taken care of by another healer, warm stew and a bed roll were not enough.

The day wore on, and the tension between you only grew. Rook marched ahead, focused on the mission, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. But Lucanis’s thoughts were elsewhere. He watched you, keeping pace beside you, noting the way you stumbled slightly over the uneven terrain, the way you never complained or asked for help. You had fallen a few times to your knees, blaming your own clumsiness or the surface, but in reality you felt yourself feel faint most of the day.

By the time they made camp that night, the weariness in your eyes had deepened. After the meal, Rook retired early to his tent, pissed off at all the events, leaving you and Lucanis alone by the fire. The silence between you felt heavier than usual, the air thick with unspoken words.

The fire crackled softly between the two of you, its orange glow casting long shadows across the clearing. Lucanis sat across from you, his sharp gaze fixed on your every movement, watching like a predator eyeing prey. You could feel his stare, even as you kept your eyes on the flickering flames, trying to pretend you didn’t notice. But the tension between you was impossible to ignore. Something inside him snapped.

“You’re not eating enough,” Lucanis said, his voice gruff, cutting through the quiet. There was no softness in his tone, no concern—just an edge, like he was pointing out a flaw.

You glanced up at him, caught off guard. “I’m fine,” you replied, though your voice betrayed a hint of exhaustion. He didn't need to worry about you, why did he care even?

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “No, you’re not. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, and it’s starting to show. Or are you just trying to make sure you’re the first one to collapse?”

The accusation, thinly veiled, stung.

“Why do you do that?” he asked suddenly.

“Do what?” Your voice was soft, confused.

“Take care of everyone else but yourself,” he said, frowning. “You give us the bigger portions, you offer us potions when you need them just as much. Why?”

You stared into the fire, your gaze distant. “I don’t know,” you admitted after a moment. “Maybe because it’s easier to focus on others than myself.”

The simplicity of your answer struck him, but there was something deeper there, something you weren’t saying. He wanted to ask more, to pry into the secrets you kept hidden behind your quiet demeanor, but he stopped himself. Pushing you wouldn’t help.

He simply looked at you, the frown growing on his face. "Ok, don't tell me then." he mocked.

You stiffened, setting your bowl aside. “I can handle myself. Don't worry about me.”

Lucanis scoffed, leaning back as he crossed his arms. “Can you? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re about one bad spell away from getting all of us killed. Or worse.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of frustration and hurt tightening your chest. You knew he didn’t trust you—he’d made that clear from the start—but his words still cut deeper than they should have. You looked away, focusing on the fire, trying to control the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over.

“I’m doing what I can,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lucanis let out a short, bitter laugh. “Doing what you can? By draining yourself to the point where you’re useless to us and a danger to yourself? That’s great. Really helpful.”

You flinched at his tone, your fingers curling into the dirt beside you. He wasn’t even trying to hide his disdain anymore. It had been there from the beginning, simmering under the surface, but now it was out in the open, sharp and cutting. And you were too tired to keep pretending it didn’t affect you.

“As long as you are healed,” you muttered, barely able to look at him. “then I'm not useless to you.”

He shifted, a dark scowl crossing his features. “Maybe not, but you are putting yourself in danger. What if a demon tries to overtake you right now, you're too weak to fight back.”

You finally met his eyes, the anger rising in you despite your exhaustion. “Then you kill me. Simple as that." You stared at him, almost defying his implications that he cared in a way.

"I’m trying to help. I’ve been trying to prove I’m not like the others, that I’m not a danger to any of you. But no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you, is it? You just want me dead.”

Lucanis’ expression didn’t soften. If anything, his gaze hardened further, jaw clenched as he leaned forward again, his voice low and cold. “You think it’s about proving something to me? This isn’t a game. You’re a walking threat, whether you mean to be or not. One mistake—one slip—and we’re all dead. You want me to trust you? Stop pretending that you’re not what you are.”

You sat there, stunned into silence. The words were harsher than anything he had said before, each one hitting like a physical blow. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe. Your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you quickly hid them beneath your cloak.

“You want me to be an evil blood mage so bad, so you finally have good reason to murder me in cold blood,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

Lucanis’ eyes flashed, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move. He just sat there, watching you like a hawk, as if waiting for something, waiting for you to break. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I'll make it easy for you,” you continued, your voice steadier now, though there was a tremor beneath it. “Have at it, I'll leave. I'll make it safe for you again. And you can explain to Rook what happened.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The fire popped and crackled, but it felt distant, like the world around you had faded into the background. Lucanis said nothing, his gaze still fixed on you, but there was something different in his expression now—something like hesitation, or maybe regret, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

You stood, the exhaustion weighing on your limbs like lead. Without another word, you turned and walked away from the fire, retreating into the darkness of the woods, desperate for space, for air. You needed to get away from him, from his sharp words and colder eyes. The hurt was too raw, too fresh.

As you disappeared into the shadows, Lucanis watched you go, his jaw still tight. He didn’t say anything, didn’t stop you, but something twisted deep inside him. He hadn’t meant to go that far, hadn’t meant to push you like that. But the anger, the mistrust—it was hard to let go. You were dangerous. You could be a threat. But now, watching you vanish into the darkness, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had just made a bigger mistake than he realized.

Lucanis leaned back against the log, staring into the fire, his mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to get under his skin like this.

And yet, you did. 

[dirtyhecker]

i'm sure this has been done already in the hours since these images came out, but i think i've got these companion bedrooms sorted

this one is definitely Bellara. everything we've seen of her so far, with the gyroscopey magical stuff, and that one concept art of her with that exact statue head, makes it seem obvious that this is her room. it also looks like she's into art, given all the paintings, and area rugs? what's with all the rolled up rugs, Bellara. i like her little daybed, and i wonder if her vallaslin are supposed to be for Ghilan'nain, given the halla decoration on the wall.

this one has to be Neve. she's got a whole detective conspiracy wall back there, sans the red yarn. there's some real organized chaos going on with the stacks of books, and the scrolls all over the place. i'm pretty sure there's a pot of tea on her desk, and i see several half-burned candles, despite the several magical lamps and pendant lights, not to mention the enormous windows and ambient Fade-light. i wonder if it gets dark out where they are? also her chair looks very fancy, but i don't see a bed anywhere.

this is Taash's room. they've said she's a gym bro, and there is a weight lifting thingy to the right, in front of that pillar. it's weighed down with sacks of flour, it looks like lol. i wonder if its functional, or just static decoration. i also see crates of weapons, and maybe some kind of forge in the bottom right? and right behind that is a pretty barebones bed. maybe she gets cold, because her bed is surrounded by fire. idk what's up with that table on the left, but everything else looks pretty sparse.

this one i think is Harding's room, but only by process of elimination. the metal bars in the window give dwarven vibes for some reason, but i also see a couple elfroot plants. there's a ton of plants, actually, all over the place, but i don't recognize the others. and there's that sad bedroll on the floor, though the rest of the room looks like my kind of place tbh. maybe it's from years spent as a scout, camping in the wilderness. i suppose this could be Bellara's room instead, but i doubt it.

i thought this was Lucanis' room, even before someone pointed out that it was a larder. i know the devs have said he's a good cook, but i didn't think he'd literally want to sleep in a pantry 😭 this makes me think he's just trying to be as unobtrusive as possible or something. there's also zero personal touches, like i zoomed in and that plywood cot is just surrounded by candles. are you okay buddy??

this one seems like Davrin's to me. he's said to be a monster hunter, and there's like a chandelier made of dragon horns or something up there? and a huge spine? plus multiple skulls of large beasts. i don't see a bed but i think it might be in that far corner next to the hearth. also there's a ton of wood carvings. so many. mostly bears and what look to be bobble-headed nugs, and at least one dragon. if Griffon Dad gives me a nug carving i will cry.

lastly, this has to be Emmrich's room. if the giant skeleton statue on the left wasn't enough of a clue, then idk what to tell you. there are basically the exact same ones in the necropolis, but much bigger. this does look like a laboratory, and an extremely well-organized one at that. i imagine Emmrich's bed is up that spiral staircase somewhere. i keep mentioning the beds because i need to know that these people are actually sleeping between quests, ok.

anyway, that's my professional analysis. i love you, goodbye.

[i-dont-read]

my May 2024 book ratings

# of books read: 2

Teach Me (Extracurricular Activities #4) by Neve Wilder ★★★★☆

Chaos at Westbrook High (Kingston Brothers #3) by Bethany Winters ★★★★☆

[bookloveravenue]

Franklin U (book 4): Bet You by Neve Wilder

Spencer Whose brilliant idea was it to build university housing next to one of Franklin U’s most notorious party frats?

I’m a real student—the kind who actually came to college to learn, not some dumb frat bro who sees Franklin U as a four-year challenge to consume the most booze and throw out the best pick-up line. Their all-hours lifestyle is driving me crazy. Not to mention, the jerks keep taking my assigned parking spot.

But the worst offender might be Cory Ingram. Sure, he has a smile that could melt a polar ice cap, but no way will I ever be one of his minions. I’m pretty sure I made that clear when I blew my top at him. So I have no idea why he’s suddenly everywhere around me, turning on the charm like I might actually fall for it.

Nope. Not gonna happen.

Cory From the first day I set foot on Franklin U’s campus, everything has been golden. I have a ton of friends, endless parties to be the life of, and whoever I want in my bed on any given night. Sure, I’m a shameless party boy, but I’m not a jerk. Ask anyone. Seriously.

Even the crotchety old groundskeeper waves and smiles at me when I pass.

Then there’s Spencer Crow. I’ve never seen a guy’s face get so red over a parking spot. Even when I try to make it right, he proceeds to give me the tongue-lashing of a lifetime—which is about the moment I notice that, in addition to being irrationally irate, he’s also crazy hot.

My friends think I’ve finally met the one person I can’t seduce…

Bet you I can.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61426727-bet-you

********

January 23, 2023

My Review: 4/5 Stars

Spencer is regretting setting up a university housing right next to Franklin U's notorious frat house. It's loud all the time and someone is always parking their car in his parking spot. And after a long day of classes and rushing to get to work, he has had enough. And Cory, who is currently parked in Spencer's spot, is about to get an earful. While Spencer is giving Cory an earful, Cory can't help but be distracted by Spencer as a whole.  He tries to be charming and flirty and make it up to Spencer but Spencer turns him down cold. Not something Cory is used to. And Cory is up for the challenge. Which leads to the bet. Yep. Nothing ever comes out well when there is a bet involved. But the bet is the last thing on Cory's mind when it comes to getting to know Spencer. He loves their banter and pushing Spencer's buttons. And soon he finds himself wanting more. And when it comes to relationships, Cory usually steer clears. As for Spencer, he is finding it hard to stay away from Cory. He tells himself not to fall for his charm and gorgeous face, but it's hard to do when Cory appears everywhere. And when they have actually meaningful conversations? Looks like Spencer isn't the only one falling. But nothing is ever that easy! These two were a lot of fun. Spencer determined not to be swayed and Cory doing whatever he can to be near Spencer because he genuinely likes him. Lot of fun and sweet moments in this story!

[lillotte17]

The Rook

AN: Mildly endgame spoiler stuff if you are really paying attention. I have no idea how far I think I'll get with this, but the idea showed up and kicked down my door to make me write it, so here we are!

~

“Why are you always arranging clandestine meetings for us in seedy bars that stink of piss and stale beer? They never go well.”

“Hey now, I didn’t pick this one!” Varric laughs as they step out the door and back into the damp streets of Minrathous. The buildings in this part of the city are shabby and moldering. Covered in peeling paint and bright with spellwork glinting off the dark cobblestones. The Archon’s Palace floats ominously above their heads like a circling vulture. “This one was all Neve’s idea.”

“You never take me anywhere nice.”

“Well, I’m sure Dumat Plaza is going to be downright cozy.”

“Let’s hope that it’s not too far from the place where Solas is conducting his ritual.”

“Fingers crossed,” Varric hums in agreement. “I’m a little surprised that it’s not out in some crumbling ruin somewhere.”

“Relieved that you don’t have to go tromping through the wilderness again?”

“You’re not wrong,” he huffs, “But I was actually thinking about collateral damage. Minrathous is huge, and the last plan Solas had to bring down the Veil leveled a mountain top.”

His companion stops walking abruptly.

“…Rook?” Varric calls back to them.

They don’t respond, lost in thought. The rain soaks through the dark wool of their hood. Silence stretches our for a few moments before the dwarf finally walks back and places a broad warm hand on their arm.

“Hey. Don’t worry too much, alright?” he says, “We’re going to get there in time to stop him.”

They nod their head once. Tug their hood down a little further. Adjust the mask covering the entirety of their face.

“We should find Harding. We need to move fast if we want to rescue your detective from those Venatori. The Veil feels…strange.”

“I’ll take your word for it, kid.”

They don’t get far before things to go sideways, as they always seem to.

The Archon’s Palace begins targeting people from above. A handful of roving spotlights, possibly searching for them. The Veil buckles, snaps, and finally rips wide. A dozen or more rifts, not unlike the ones the that had ravaged the South a decade ago, blink into existence across the Minrathous skyline. Which means demons. A lot of them.

“Demons. Ventatori. Fade rifts. Feeling nostalgic yet, Varric?” Rook grunts, landing a shot at the dead center of a despair demon, watching its essence shatter and disappear into nothing.

“Yeah yeah, so long as no one asks me to go digging around for any more of those creepy Fade shards again, I’ll fight all the damn demons you want.”

They find their wayward scout a few blocks later, protecting civilians. Red hair and freckles. Always ready to pull out a cheery smile or a nocked arrow, depending on what the situation called for. She’s already got the lay of the land, despite being raised out in Fereldan farmlands, and easily begins navigating them through cramped Tevinter streets.

“You know, I’m honestly surprised that this isn’t more of a regular occurrence in Minrathous.” Harding pants out after another bout of fighting.

“Oh, demons an cultists are everyday fare in this city,” Rook confirms with a dry laugh as the last enemy falls and the way clears for them to press forwards once again. “But I think there’s something to be said for the scale of the current crisis.”

The allegedly imperiled Neve Gallus is waiting for them in Dumat Plaza, calm and cool as the barrier of ice she had thrown up to halt the Venatori cultists who had tried to drag her off.

“Varric. Harding. Not the worst timing.” Neve greets, “And..?”

“Rook.” They reply with a nod of their head.

“Like the chess piece?”

“One of the strongest pieces on the board. Tends to think in straight lines, though.” Varric chuckles, giving them a good natured pat on the back.

“Someone around here has to.” Rook grumbles in reply, although they don’t sound mad about it.

“So, it’s one of Varric’s nicknames?”

“Seems to be.”

“But it’s how you’re introducing yourself to people?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Hm. Rook. I think the Viper’s mentioned you before. You’re one of the Shadows?”

“I’ve done a fair amount of work for them. But they’ve asked me to keep some distance, for now. Apparently the way I free slaves is too conspicuous.”

“I see you’ve picked up some of Ashur’s charming fashion sense.”

“Can’t let the Orlesians have all the fun.”

“I hate to interrupt the witty banter, but we do have an ancient elvhen ritual to be stopping.” Varric interjects.

“Sorry, never could resist a good mystery,” Neve grins.

“But you have a lead, yes?” Harding presses, full of hope.

Neve beckons them with a wave of her hand, turns on her heel, and begins whisking them down a dark alley, through another building and out into the city proper again. An ominous rumble shakes the rafters of the roof above them. The human mage pauses for a moment to glance back at them, dark eyes brimming with questions and concern.

“You’ve seen him?” Rook asks as they trot up beside her. “You’ve seen Solas?”

“No, I haven’t. Not in person.” Neve shakes her head. “But I did find hints of old magic. Very old. Similar to what you get in elvhen ruins.

She stops walking long enough to point with her staff.

“I traced it to a building beneath Our Lady of Victory. That’s where your man is hiding.”

“Best news we’ve had all night.” Varric sighs. “Let’s get there and stop him before this ritual gets any worse.”

“Worse?” Neve gapes. “This ritual is already drawing more power than I’d expect from a dozen mages. You told me he was working alone.”

“I also told you he was an ancient elvhen god.” Varric sighs.

“And he’s not working alone.” Rook tells her plainly. “He’s got his own fanatical followers, just like the other gods. But he tends to keep them at a distance, when he can. Reduces the odds of betrayal.”

“Who would have thought that the god of lies would have trust issues?” Harding quips.

“An elvhen god,” Neve repeats, tightening her grip on her staff. “Well, whatever he is, he’s causing trouble in my city. We’ve got to stop him- Let’s go.”

“That’s the idea, Slick.”

The group continues on, fighting cultist mages and demons as needed. Stepping over far too many corpses. Winding their way down to the canals before finding the passage to the building under the statue Neve had told them about.

“Looks old,” Harding notes, pausing long enough to study some of the paintings on the roughcut stone walls, “I wonder how long this has been here.”

“Solas has been around before Minrathous itself, who knows how long this has been here.” Varric hums.

“Tevinter was built on the ruins of Elvhenan,” Rook says, “Bones upon bones. For all we know, this could have existed before the fall of the empire.”

They stop beside Harding.

“That looks like… A magister? And sentinels? The Dread Wolf howling at the Black city locked behind the Veil, maybe?”

“He never could resist the urge to paint cryptic shit on the walls.” Varric grumbles.

“So, you think this is Solas’ hideout?” Neve wonders. “Seems pretty sparse down here.”

“One of them,” Varric replies. “If I had a sovereign for every bolt hole of his that we’ve tracked down over the years, I could retire to Rivain and live like a king.”

“You’re the Viscount of Kirkwall, Varric. And the sole heir to a powerful family in the dwarven merchants’ guild.” Rook laughs. “Don’t try to tell me you’re in this for the money.”

“No, but the money would still be nice.”

“The next time we send an update back to the Inquisition, I’ll make sure to add a note saying that you’re expecting a bonus.” Harding grins. She tosses Rook a wink. “I know some people.”

“Hazard pay for everyone!” Rook cheers.

The Tevene detective nudges a pile of chains on the floor with the toe of her metal leg.

“Broken. Looks like Solas has been freeing slaves.” She notes with a hint of surprise.

“Solas hates slavery.” Varric tells her. “One of the few things we actually agreed on.”

“Solas said the other gods were tyrants who oppressed his people. He was trying to help them.” Harding explains.

“By starting a rebellion, among other things.” Varric agrees. “And everything went to shit, as usual. That’s why he locked them away behind the Veil in the first place.”

“You mean he created the Veil?” Neve asks.

“Yup.” Says Varric.

“Shit.”

“Yup.” Rook echoes.

There really is not much down here beyond more crumbling ruins, though. No furniture. No books. No ancient elf trying to end the world.

“Is that a light up ahead?” Rook wonders.

“Feels like magic.” Neve confirms.

“I don’t think I see a way to get to where it’s coming from though…” Rook trails off.

“Over here!” Harding waves them over to a crack in the wall just wide enough for them to all press through.

“I can’t- imagine- Chuckles- squeezing his big- bald- head- through this thing every time he came down here.” Varric grates out as he wriggles his way through, somewhat short of breath. “If Bianca got a scratch, I’m never speaking to him again.”

“More paintings,” Harding points out, ignoring the other dwarf’s complaints.

“Looks like the ancient elves were binding dragons,” says Rook thoughtfully.

“That sounds bad.” Harding winces.

“Are we surprised that the evil gods were doing evil shit?” Varric scowls.

Another room. A desk this time. A few small magical artifacts. A work station. A narrow cot with a thin blanket and -inexplicably- a mandolin. Everything cold, surrounded by piles of dust and rumble.

“This place is just…sad.” Rook decides, somewhat subdued, reaching out to pluck a single string on the abandoned instrument. Their fingers brush across the blanket beside it before pulling away.

“Hey, don’t feel too bad for him,” Varric says bumping their elbow with his own, “Solas chose to live like this. Probably as some form of penance. Although, I personally think he just enjoys being miserable.”

“I was also expecting a bit more from an evil villain’s lair,” Neve smirks. “Something with a touch more romance, perhaps. Panache. A bit of drama.”

“Well, once we talk him down, you can give him your scathing review on his living arrangements.”

“I’m not sure I have much room to talk, truth be told.” She laughs.

“He doesn’t need to know that.”

“I think that the source of the magic Neve felt might be through that door,” Harding calls out, pointing at the only visible exit to the room they are standing in, “I can see the same light from earlier at the bottom.”

“Excellent scouting, as always, Harding,” Rook praises, striding over to pull the door back on its hinges. “Not even locked. The Dread Wolf is getting sloppy.”

“Or he just figured that it wouldn’t matter if anyone managed to reach him at this point.”

“We are thinking in positives, Varric.”

“Right, right, sorry.”

“Ugh.” Neve makes a face. “Why is this room flooded?”

“The building is old, and we were near the canals?” Harding suggests.

“Just be grateful it only goes up to your ankles, Slick.”

“An elvuian,” Rook breathes out. Tipping their head back to see the whole of the enormous glowing mirror covering the wall along the right side of the room.

“A what?” Neve blinks in the blinding blue light.

“More old elf shit.” Varric sighs.

“They’re kind of like magic doorways. They can transport you almost anywhere.” Harding explains.

“Solas uses them to get around. Half the reason keeping up with him has been such a pain in the ass.”

“He must have gone through it,” Rook says, their hands balling into fists at their sides. “Alright, everyone be careful stepping through. We don’t know where this connects to.”

“Do you think he’s not actually in the city?”

“Let’s find out.”

It’s still raining on the other side, but now there are open skies and grass underfoot. A heavy line of trees surrounds the jagged elvhen ruins looming up ahead of them. The tops of eight enormous statues peer out from the crumbling walls, each bearing the symbol of one of the elvhen gods. The Creators.

Varric’s boots squelch loudly in the mud. He turns and makes a face at Rook.

“Well. So much for not having to tromp through the wilderness.” He grouses.

“I know, I know,” Rook laughs, “Drinks are on me later, alright? Just try to think of your favorite terrible ale instead of the water leaking into your shoes.”

“You always know how to cheer me up.”

There were demons here, too. Driven mad by the realities of the world they had been pulled into by the Dread Wolf’s ritual. Even so, it does not take the team long to reach the source of all the magical turmoil.

A lone elf standing at the top of a crumbling set of stairs, bathed in the glow of his own summoned power. Taller than most elves of this age, with broad shoulders and a regal bearing. His back is turned to them, lost in the intricacies of the spell he is weaving.

“So, do we have a plan here, or what?” Neve wonders, sizing up the elvhen mage with mild apprehension.

“…I’m going to talk to him.”

“Varric-”

“It’ll be fine, Rook.”

“But-”

“Solas is doing this because he can’t see any other options.” The dwarf says firmly. “So, he needs someone to sell him a way out. I’m a businessman, and a storyteller, and a friend. I’ve got a reputation to uphold for being irresistibly charming. And…if he won’t listen to me, then he’ll hear from Bianca.”

He pats the crossbow in question while the others exchange worried glances.

“I could take the shot from here,” Harding offers, frowning with uncertainty. “It’s clear. I don’t have to aim for anything vital, I could just-”

“No.” Varric insists, shaking his head. “You’d just piss him off, and if this comes to straight up fight, we’re all dead.”

He turns to walk up the stairs when Rook snags him by the elbow.

“Wait, Varric. Maybe-”

“You’re my second in command, remember, Rook?” He says gently, placing his large hand over their much smaller one. “That means you need to watch out for the team while I take care of this. I promise, if it seems like things are going south, I’ll yell for you. Alright?”

They take a half step closer, bowing their head, the smooth silver of their mask edged in blue from Solas’ magic.

“I don’t like it.”

He smiles.

“I know, kid.”

“I just feel like… Like we’re missing something. Like it can’t possibly be as simple as ending the chase like this after all this time.”

“Not every story has to end with some big flashy climax, you know.”

“All of yours do.”

“Only the ones I want to sell.”

“Think you can sell this one?”

“Won’t know until I try.”

He pauses for a moment, taking a long look at them. Short. Scrawny. Soaked from head to heel.

“I know it’s not what you want, but trust me- This is the right call.” He says quietly. “If we’re wrong about this- If I’m wrong about this- Someone has to be ready in the wings to stand against whatever magic crap Chuckles pulls out of his ass. That’s you. It’s got to be you. You know that.”

Rook takes a deep shaky breath. Nodding slowly in acceptance. They reluctantly let go of his elbow.

The dwarf turns away and walks up the stairs. Magic buzzes and crackles through the air around them, making it difficult to catch his words. However, the figure standing above them stills in apparent surprise for a moment before deciding to stop and face his former friend.

Solas has sharp features. Distinct, even from this distance. Untouched by the passage of time.

He looks tired.

His expression is fluid for a few seconds. Pleasure melting into mild annoyance before finally settling into something firm and unrelenting. Stubborn.

Bianca shatters in Varric’s hands, tumbling down the stairs in fragments of polished wood and finely crafted metal.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying!” Harding complains.

“It doesn’t seem to be going very well.” Neve Frowns. “We need to do something about this ritual while Varric has him distracted.”

Rook glances around for solutions. Nothing seems to be immediately forthcoming. Then they raise their arm, pointing to the far corner of the ritual site.

“There. The scaffolding.” They say. “The statue on that side is barely standing on its own. If we could bring it down…”

“Would that kill him?” Harding asks.

“I…I don’t think so. But if his concentration is broken, it should at least give us some more time.”

“We can’t topple it from here.” Neve frowns. “Too far. Even for one of my spells. And to get over to it, we’d have to walk through raw magic. That’s suicide.”

“Someone’s got to keep the demons off of Varric while he’s dealing with Solas, too.” Harding points out. Her brow knits with worry as she stares at Rook. “Are you going to go anyway?”

Rook’s gaze seems to move from the statue, to Varric’s broad shoulders, and back again.

“I… No. I have to- I told Varric I would watch his back. I can’t just leave him here.”

“Well, I’m not just going to stand around and wait for some ancient elvhen mage to ruin the world,” Neve scowls, striding away at a clipped pace.

“Neve, wait- Oh, void take it all!” Rook curses, “Harding, go with her! Get her there safe. I’ll keep an eye on these two.”

“You got it!”

“Nothing crazy, understood?” They call after the dwarf as she races to catch up with the human mage, “I want everyone to walk away from this in one piece!”

The scout raises a hand in acknowledgement. The gesture does little to soothe their nerves. One or two demons try to pick a fight, but not enough to even warrant a decent distraction from their own thoughts. They begin to pace, trying to get a better view of the elf and the dwarf as they continue their argument while still staying out of sight.

They wish they could hear what they were saying.

They hear it when the statue falls, though.

Everything afterwards seems to flow over them in slow motion. Solas yelling in anger and surprise. Varric reaching to grab something from his hands. A scuffle. Varric falling, his body heavy and loose as it follows Bianca to the foot of the stairs. The Veil rips wide, two dark towering figures looming out of the bright blue-green depths of the Fade.

Rook screams. Wordless with rage and guilt and grief. Rushing out into the open to throw themselves to their knees at their friend’s side. There is a dagger, strange and humming. Deep. Too Deep. Too much blood.

They raise their head, and see Solas looking at them.

There are tears streaming down his face.

Something crackles. Thunders. Blasts out wide and bright and searing.

Rook flies backwards like a puppet with cut strings. Their head collides with stone. Their vision swims. Their ears ring. A strong arm wraps around their waist. Somewhere in the midst of all of it, they think they might still be screaming. Or someone else is screaming. Or crying. Something is very wrong.

And then everything is black.

~

In the blackness, there is a face. Then a figure. Proud and tall. Surrounded by shadow and queer grey light.

Solas.

Solas, standing in ruins and rubble. Separated from them only by a chasm and the fury written plainly on his face. He does not move to strike them, however. He does not draw his magic to his hands to blast them with a spell. He simply snaps and snarls at them like a wolf caught in a trap.

“You have no idea what you have done.”

Rook gets to their feet, limbs sore and knees shaky. They dust off their pants. Rub their hands a little, testing the strength of their left wrist.

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea of what I’ve done, actually.” They reply casually.

“So, it was your intention to release Elgar’nan and Ghila’nain out into the world, where they may freely blight the innocent and raze whole cities to the ground?” He growls out.

They recoil half a step, and their form flickers briefly. A flash of pale hair, and the scent of lavender. Solas shakes his head, as though clearing away the remnants of a dream. When he looks at them again, their stance is strong. Defiant. They are small and dark and sharp as a knife. The silver of their mask cutting through the gloom around them.

“My intention was to stop you from tearing down the Veil.” They gesture to their surroundings. “A feat I believe you once said would ‘burn this world in raw chaos.’ And since we both seem to be standing somewhere in the Fade, and you aren’t running off through another eluvian, I’m guessing that I must have succeeded. You were stopped, and the world wasn’t destroyed.”

“I was not destroying the world.”

“Yet.”

He takes a sharp breath in through his nose.

“When you disrupted my ritual, the magical energies pulled me here, into the Fade.”

“I think that sounds very fitting.” Rook says, folding their arms across their chest. “If I got caught in the same blast, then I guess we’re going to be neighbors. I’ll bake you a pie.”

“Your physical body is merely unconscious.” Solas sneers, waving a hand dismissively. “But you shed a few drops of blood at the ritual site. Enough for a tenuous connection.”

“Ah. So, it’s blood magic, then.”

“Firstly, I abhor the use of blood magic.” Solas barks, nearly to the point of shouting. “Secondly, had I the power to control you, I would have already used it.”

Rook cocks their head to one side as they regard him in silence for a moment.

“…Magic is magic, it matters only how it is used.”

Solas blinks at that.

“Excuse me?”

“That was what you told me, wasn’t it?” They ask, reaching up slowly to pull away their mask and lower their hood. Soft curls pulled back into a long simple braid. Vallaslin. Eyes nearly as haunted as his own. “When we were talking together at Haven…all those years ago.”

It is his turn to stagger back a step, almost as though he had been struck. The anger in his face chased away by a sudden flood of sorrow. He shakes his head again, as though it will somehow change the visage of the person standing before him.

“Hello, Solas.”

“Vhenan.”

[atimefordragons]

okay, so I've played the choice™️ three times, twice as a shadow dragon, once as a crow, and tbh, people are right that the shadow dragons are wayyyy meaner about it. personally, I don't think it's necessarily bad that their reaction is so harsh, but the feelings do hurt dude, and it is a little bit unfair. like Rook is just a random, they are mid-ranked at best in both organizations, and actually lowkey on the bottom end cause they were chased outta town in both the shadow dragons and crow backstories. Plus, they split the team in half, so Rook personally showing up makes a difference only in game mechanics, not within the story itself, since the team is story wise more or less evenly matched in power, thus it's unfair for them to only get mad at Rook, like this one randoms presence would significantly make a difference. like, the random's choice matters outside of the story, but as beings in the story, they should not be aware of that. and it's wilder when a crow!Rook chooses to prioritize their own city over minrathous. Tarquin's reaction made sense, since this stranger technically freed the gods and led to his city being attacked, but Neve acted like Rook personally called a dragon to attack her city. like, that's not Rook's fault babe, and you disrupted the ritual with me, so why you mad at me? when I saved minrathous as a shadow rook, Lucanis was devasted and broke up with me (and I have other issues with that mechanic), but no one was mad, or at least aggressively mean, Teia understood I choose to prioritize my city, and the only one actually mad for a few interactions was Jacobus, who got over it fairly quick, and his reaction was painted as a traumatized child misplacing or redirecting their anger. again, I don't think it's like "bad writing" or whatever, that they're so harsh, but it is mean, and kinda unfair.

[fatehbaz]

The Amazon Rainforest is often considered the ultimate wilderness. Here, nature rules ruthlessly in all its grandeur. [...] For many people across the globe, this would be their idea of the Amazon. However, recent archaeological research turns that image on its head. Human presence in the world’s largest tropical rainforest is not only much older than previously thought, but also much more significant and varied than long presumed. Until the turn of the 21t century, the ruling paradigm was that the soil in the Amazon was too poor to support agriculture. And, without enough food, it’s not suited for humankind. Today, there’s little doubt [...] that the Amazon was, in fact, a hotspot for plant cultivation. Eduardo Neves is well-versed in this paradigm shift in Amazonian archaeology and its consequences on our view of the past, present and future of the rainforest. A professor [...] at the University of São Paulo, Brazil, he’s worked for more than 30 years in the central and southwest Amazon. He recently published his latest book, Sob os tempos do equinócio: Oito mil anos de história na Amazônia central (“Under the times of the equinox: 8,000 years of history in central Amazon,” not yet translated into English.) [...]

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By that time [the late nineteenth century], naturalists and anthropologists had been working in the Amazon for about a century and had encountered very few people. They assumed what they saw was a reflection of the situation in the Amazon before the European conquest, not the result of colonialism. [...] Another reason is that they compared the Amazon to other places in South America, such as the Inca civilization in the Andes [...]. There they saw monumental remains, while in the Amazon lowlands they saw nothing of the sort. The easiest way to explain this was to look at the environment: the rainforest, with its poor soil, did not allow for agriculture [...].

Because the structures he found were so massive, he introduced the term “garden cities.” [...] [T]here was a great diversity in the history of the people living there. [...] In general, there still is a very generic view of people living in the Amazon. One tends to forget the Amazon is larger than continental Europe. People in Sicily are not like people in Scandinavia. Likewise, there is a lot of cultural diversity in the Amazon. And there always has been.

The oldest human presence we found dates back 8,500 years. But in other places in the Amazon the first signs of human occupation are even older. [...] In Brazil, we have the rock paintings of Monte Alegre, which date back almost 12,000 years. People have been living in the Amazon as early as anywhere else in the Americas. Yet, until the 1990s the dominant view was that people could not live in the tropical rainforest, as it does not allow for agriculture. [...]

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We now know that the Amazon was one of the main cradles of plant cultivation in the world. There is no longer any doubt about that. Numerous very important plants were first cultivated in the Amazon, including manioc, cacao, papaya, peanuts and tobacco. It is a long list. And we now have the archaeological evidence to prove it. The Amazon was a center for agrobiological diversity.

But that is not all.

What is the idea behind domestication? You take a wild plant and then select and manipulate its features in such a way that a new species comes into existence, which is dependent on human intervention for reproduction. In other words, genetic modification is essential for domestication [...].

However, in the Amazon we also see many species that were never domesticated, such as the açaí tree, the Brazilian nut tree and the rubber tree.

Not domesticated, yet very important, as they have been [cultivated] as part of the rainforest for thousands of years.

The conceptual shift [...] is that the Indigenous people who [...] live in the Amazon did practice agriculture, yet they did so in a different way. [...] Which leads us to perhaps the most important paradigm shift of all: the Amazon Rainforest is not so much, or not only a natural heritage, but a biocultural heritage. [...]

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The idea that the Amazon must be conquered, colonized, transformed and domesticized - it simply does not work. Look at what is happening today. We cut the forest, bring soy, corn, cows and grasslands. Over the last 50 years we’ve destroyed some 20% of the rainforest [...].

Two things: First, the idea of a protected rainforest without people does not make sense. The past teaches us there were once many people spread out over a large territory. And there still are many traditional inhabitants, not only Indigenous people, but also ribeirinhos [riverside dwellers] and quilombolas [Afro-Brazilian communities]. And these are the people that help protect the rainforest.

Second, intensive agriculture is a concept that urgently needs reconsidering. The idea is to produce as much as possible of a certain crop in one area for as long as possible. But take the Brazilian nut tree that grows and flourishes as part of the forest for 300 or 400 years.

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Text above are the words of Eduardo Neves. As interviewed and transcribed by Peter Speetjens. “’Many features of the Amazon are man-made’: Q&A with archaeologist Eduardo Neves.” Mongabay. 3 May 2023. [The italicized first paragraph in this post was published by Speetjens/Mongabay as a sort of introduction, published alongside the responses of Neves. Bold emphasis and paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]