#illario smut

[bitethedemon]

Daggers, Poison, and Shiny Things (Lucanis x Reader x Illario): Chapter 3

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Link to this fic on AO3

Tags: Slow burn, De Riva Reader, Eventual Smut, Messy Love Triangles

Fic summary: You lost everything in Rivain: your family, your home, and your hopes of ever becoming a seer. Treviso offered you revenge, but you were not prepared for the loneliness you would find amongst the Crows. The busiest assassin in Antiva became your only friend. That is, until he died and left you alone to pick up the pieces of yourself and his devastated cousin.

Imagine then, that your dead old flame shows up after a year, very much alive, with a very loud demon at his side and a hot new boss, while you have to explain that you are now dating his cousin. Don't you just hate it when that happens?

WARNING: NSFW Content, Toxic Relationships, Baby-trapping

“How do you work like this?” Viago asked and gestured to your worktable in the laboratory. “No order, ingredients thrown around, solution on the table. River…”

“Good morning to you too,” you mumbled. “There is order to my chaos.”

“A moronic thing to say,” Viago said and started sorting through your mess. “There is no order to chaos. That is why it is called chaos.”

He sighed and swore under his breath in Antivan as he began tidying up your workspace. It had been Viago’s laboratory once. He was a master poison-maker, the best the Crows had to offer, but now he left most of the grunt work to you. 

He looked at you out of the corner of his eye as he tidied up.

“What is you and Illario’s deal?” he asked.

You briefly looked up at him.

“I thought you didn’t care about my love life…”

“I don’t,” he said quickly. “But you are a de Riva. If something is going on, it will reflect badly on all of us. I would simply like to know in advance of the rumors.”

It was all bullshit, of course. Viago was big on gossip even though he acted like he was above it. His nose was solidly planted in everyone’s business.

“Why would you assume that whatever is going on is bad?” you asked. “What have you heard?”

“Nothing…” he said with a frown and a shrug.

He poured a healthy dose of various poisons into his morning coffee. He placed them in front of you afterwards. It was something he had urged you to do when you started working as a poison-maker. A little each day so that you could build up tolerance for your own poisons. You started measuring and pouring a little from each vial into your own cup.

“Although—”

There it was.

“I have seen him walking around slightly inebriated these last couple of days, and Teia swore she saw him flirting with someone a couple of days ago.”

You sighed deeply. Illario really was pissed at what you had said. 

“What do you want me to do about it?” you asked a bit too sharply.

“Well do something,” Viago said and sipped his coffee. “You will look like an idiot if people see him going behind your back. It is shameful.”

“He’s the idiot.”

“Okay, you are both idiots,” he said with a shrug. “Are you happy? Fix it.”

“He proposed to me,” you said calmly.

Viago choked violently on his coffee. He coughed and waved his finger around in the air to signify that he definitely had something to say about that once he was done dying.

“Don’t he dare,” he wheezed in a firm tone and coughed again. “Don’t you dare. I did not invest all this time in you for you to become a Dellamorte. Not that any of the families would approve. Is he—”

“I know,” you said. “I told him that too. I didn’t say yes, obviously. I’m not stupid…Don’t tell anyone.”

Viago opened his mouth to start ranting again before the door to the laboratory opened. It was Lucanis.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Viago said to you before grabbing his coffee and leaving.

He shut the door behind him. Lucanis looked from the door to you.

“Trouble?”

“When isn’t there?” you said with a sigh and then looked up at him with a smile. “Hi.”

He gave you a small smile and walked over to you. He placed a tin container on the table.

“I brought you food,” Lucanis said. “Couscous with mint and bell peppers.”

Your smile widened. It warmed your heart. You had missed his attempts at making Rivaini food dearly. It always tasted amazing, even though it had that distinct Antivan taste that he never quite managed to fix. Not that you ever had the heart to tell him.

“That’s so nice of you,” you said. “I haven’t had Rivaini food in ages, actually. How do you find time to cook when you’re doing…whatever it is you and your new allies are doing?”

He leaned on the edge of the table and looked at what you were doing.

“I don’t sleep,” he said with a shrug. “I try to do something productive with the time.”

You looked up at him. He did look like he had not slept in days. There were dark circles under his eyes.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” you asked with slight worry in your tone.

“Spite,” he said. “He takes over my body when I sleep. So, I don’t.”

You nodded and could not help looking at Spite. He looked as if he was simply listening in on the conversation, though he was observing you intensely. Lucanis cleared his throat in an awkward manner. You blinked and turned your attention back to him.

“Sorry,” you said and shook your head. “He’s difficult to ignore.”

“You are telling me,” Lucanis said with a tired smile.

He most likely wasn’t fond of you seeing him that way, or he was scared of how Spite might act if given too much attention. You decided to change the subject since he seemed uncomfortable.

“Why are you in Treviso?”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Illario didn’t tell you?” he asked.

You weren’t sure if you should tell him that you two were having trouble. Lucanis sure didn’t need more things to worry about, so you simply shook your head.

“He has some information for us,” Lucanis explained. “We are supposed to meet with him at Café Pietra.”

We. 'We', meaning him and Rook. They were just casually going to one of Lucanis’ favorite places in Treviso. That didn’t bother you in the least, obviously…

“Right…” you said quietly.

Then silence fell over both of you. You both just stood there for a moment. It was hard to put a finger on it, but everything was so just odd between the two of you. As if there was an invisible wall between you that hadn’t ever been there before. You hated it.

“Right,” you repeated and scratched your neck awkwardly.

You moved to one of the many bookshelves along the wall to pull out a book. It was one of those he had once given you. You looked through it and bookmarked two chapters with strips of paper before handing it over to him.

“Here,” you said. “You can borrow this. There are a few chapters on seer meditation and how to move out of trance after a possession. I don’t know…It might be helpful.”

He smiled when he recognized the book as one of the ones he gave you.

“Thank you.”

“Of course,” you said and smiled back at him.

“NO BOOK. Help. Us,” Spite hissed. “River is SAFE. Help Lucanis. FREE US!”

Lucanis’ eyes closed and his jaw clenched for a moment.

 “I…need to go. Good luck with Viago,” he said.

“NO!” Spite hissed in frustration.

You nodded and watched him leave in slight puzzlement. Free…us? You couldn’t stop wondering what Spite had meant by that. Something more was going on than just an unruly spirit.

You were tired. You had just closed down the laboratory and were on your way home. You heard close steps behind you and then an arm wrapped around your waist. You jumped slightly and turned to see Teia smiling up at you.

“River…” she said in a low, conspiratorial tone. “One of my fledgling’s just came back here from the bar down the street. The Sun.”

You knew of the Setting Sun, of course. It was Illario’s favorite spot to drink himself into a stupor. You already had a hunch were this was going.

“Yeah?”

“They saw Illario practically eating the face of some poor girl down there. It would just be a shame if you caught him red-handed.”

You felt a flare of anger in your stomach. Your jaw clenched and you looked at Teia.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Give him my best regards,” she said with a smile. “Don’t go easy on him.”

There were so many excuses. Illario could not quite figure out if he should play the victim card or the aggressive card. He was drunk, of course, so that did not help in the least. You had found him with the girl sitting on his lap. Now you were loudly arguing outside the bar.

“You are no different from everyone else,” he snapped at you. “You don’t love me. I am just the next best thing to him, isn’t that it?”

“If I wanted to be with Lucanis, you and I would not be together!” you yelled at him. “You have humiliated me. How stupid do you think I am, Illario?”

“I have humiliated you?” he hissed. “Do you think it is not humiliating to know that you will ever only see me in his shadow? That you will not even marry me?”

“I won't marry you because it is a ridiculous idea,” you snapped back. “Don’t you play the victim with me right now. You went behind my back.”

“As if you have only ever been upfront with me,” he said with a scoff. “Don’t you think I notice how you look at him? How you still pine after him? I hope I was a good replacement until the real thing came back.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gritted out in frustration.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said bitterly. “Hm? He still visits you as if nothing has happened. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“You weren’t a fucking replacement!” you snapped at him. “Lucanis and I are still friends, yes, but I love you. We needed each other at a moment in our lives when we both had nothing, and I am loyal to that. Which is why it hurts so much to see that you cannot pay the same respect to me.”

He sneered at you. He ran his hand over his face, shook his head, and sighed.

“It doesn’t matter…” he said with a bitter scoff. “You are going to leave me. Everyone does eventually. My parents, Lucanis, Caterina, and now you. It doesn’t matter what I do.”

He was playing dirty with his sad eyes and bitter tone. It pissed you off to no end. You groaned in frustration and kicked the wall behind you hard. Gods, you wanted to strangle him sometimes.

You closed your eyes, took a few deep breaths, and then looked at him.

You shouldn’t forgive him. You were better than that. Had you been back in your village in Rivain and had you two been married, he would have been shunned from the community for what he just did. You really shouldn’t…

You gave another frustrated groan and then walked up to him until you were in his face.

“If I ever catch you with another woman again, you will wish that I had left you now,” you growled at him. “You humiliate me like this again, Illario, and not even death will give you peace from my anger. Do you understand?”

It was clear in his eyes that he was torn between whether he should let you speak to him like that or if he should simply agree with you. He had not seen this side of you like this before and it clearly threw him for a loop. You were raised in a society where a man should feel honored if a woman like you looked at him twice. Illario grew up in a society that told him that everyone should bow and scrape around him.

He eventually gave you a curt nod and put his hands on your hips. You slapped his hands away.

“You reek of her,” you said with utter disdain.

You turned and walked home, leaving him there alone.

You had removed the key to your house from where it usually was hidden. You did not want to even look at him. You were tired and you were pissed off.

Of course, removing the key did nothing more but send a message that you did not want him there. Illario found a way inside anyway, to no surprise. It was late in the evening when you heard some commotion from your bedroom. You grabbed a knife from your kitchen before going upstairs.

You swung the door open and pointed the knife at him.

“No,” you said firmly and pointed to the window he had come from with the knife. “Go.”

He looked like he had somewhat sobered up since you had yelled at him a few hours ago. He was not impressed with the knife. He knew as well as you did that you had never been good with them. His expression said as much when he looked down at the knife and then smiled at you in slight amusement.

You raised a brow in challenge and slammed the knife down on the top of the drawer beside you. A flash of fire emerged from your hand instead. He frowned slightly then.

“Don’t be like that,” he said.

“I have nothing more to say to you tonight, Illario,” you said. “Leave. I am not playing this game with you.”

“I am not here to play games, love,” he said in an almost pleading tone. “I thought we agreed to put it to rest. You’re sorry, I’m sorry… I just wanted to see you. We’re fine, no?”

Gods, he could be so thickheaded sometimes. You glared at him.

“So let us move on,” he said and slowly walked towards you. “I’ve missed you...”

You did not extinguish the flame in your hand. His eyes flicked from it to you.

“We both know you won’t throw that.”

The flame grew bigger, and your fingers twitched. He took a small step back.

“What do you want me to do? Hm?” he said with a hint of frustration.

“What do I want?” you repeated his question in an irritated voice. “I want you to leave, Illario. Instead, you are here acting as if everything is completely fine. As if you wouldn’t have fucked that girl, had I not intervened.”

“River, amore,” he said in an exasperated voice as if what you were saying was unreasonable. “We talked about this. I was in a bad state of mind. It should never have happened. I told you.”

“I need time.”

He sighed and looked from the flame to your face again. You saw how he relaxed his body language, and you had been around enough assassins to know it was a ruse. You tensed and readied yourself to move away.

He got ahold of you before you could even flinch. He wrapped his arms around both of yours and forced your arms down, making you to extinguish the flame so as to not set fire to yourself. He turned you around and wrapped one arm loosely around your neck and the other tightly around your middle and arms.

“You are cute when you’re jealous,” he spoke into your ear. “Please, love. Don’t be like this.”

You gave a low, irritated groan at his words. It wasn’t his first time pissing you off and then trying to fix it with honeyed words like this. You just felt stupid that it always somehow worked on you.

He slowly kissed his way from your neck to your ear.

“It was hot when you yelled at me earlier,” he said and bit the lobe of your ear. “I’ve missed you so much…”

He pressed himself against your ass and you felt that familiar stir of arousal in your stomach. You cursed yourself for giving in so easily. He loosened his grip on you when he felt you becoming calmer. You turned around to face him.

“Never again,” you said firmly.

“Never…” he agreed.

You sighed. You leaned forward and kissed him. He smiled against your lips and began walking you backwards towards the bed.

He pushed you gently to sit on the bed and started unbuttoning his pants. You sighed internally but took the hint when he started running his hand through your hair. You really ought to bite it off, you morbidly thought to yourself as you started to kiss your way up his shaft, it would save you so many problems with this man.

His breath hitched when your lips closed around him. His grip on your hair tightened slightly when you did. His thumb ran gently over your ear.

“You are so beautiful like this,” he murmured. “Don’t stop.”

You didn’t. You took him as deep as you could go without gagging, eliciting a low groan from him.

You knew this little dance of yours, because you had done it so many times. Illario was a selfish lover. You didn’t particularly mind taking care of him like this, but it was slightly infuriating at times like these where he had been an asshole. Still, you liked making him feel good.

He pulled out of your mouth after a while and helped you out of your clothes. He grabbed your hips and turned you so that you were on all fours in front of him. He ran his fingers over your folds, teasing your clit for only a moment before one of his fingers entered you. You were already wet, which in Illario’s head meant that not much more foreplay was needed.

His fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your hips before he sank his cock into you with a groan. He leaned down to kiss your back. His hands moved from your sides to your chest to play with your tits. He began driving into you in a slow steady rhythm.

“You are mine, aren’t you?” he mumbled into your ear.

“Yes,” you moaned.

He groaned and his thrusts became quicker.

“And you won’t leave me,” he said breathlessly as he moved. “When I become First Talon, we will get married, and no one will be able to take you from me.”

You were used to Illario babbling nonsense when fucking you. You mostly tuned it out, but the First Talon thing was a new one. His thrusts became deeper and harder. He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You should have seen how he eye-fucked that elven girl the other day,” he hissed into your ear. “I doubt he ever flirted with you like that. He doesn’t deserve you. He never did.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and tried your hardest to ignore him. He was close. You knew it from the way he bit your neck and shoulders. Your hand went to your clit and you started rubbing it in circles. He fucked you harder, and with your own help, you managed to come half a second before he did.

Though this time, he did not pull out like he had done millions of times before. You panicked when he bottomed out and came deep inside you.

“Are you fucking stu—”

He grabbed you in a way that made sure you couldn’t move, and he pressed you facedown down into the mattress.

“I’m serious about this, River,” he growled into your ear. “I want you.”

You winced as the contents of the bottle violated your tastebuds and went down your throat. You had to make a potion that would ensure you did not get pregnant from Illario’s spontaneous desire for fatherhood. Everything was such a mess right now. What the fuck was up with him these days?

Viago entered at some point and started speaking at you: Something, something, remember to request new ingredients, something, something, five batches behind.

“Are you listening, River?”

“No,” you mumbled absentmindedly.

“I would ask if your ears were for decoration, but I have seen how they look and know that cannot be the case,” Viago chided harshly. “What is wrong with you?”

“So many things,” you mumbled tiredly and started noting down ingredients on a piece of paper. “I’m only three batches behind. I’ll get the remaining two done today.”

“Hey,” Viago said and snapped his fingers in front of your face to catch your attention. “You are not focused. What happens when we are not focused?”

“Mistakes.”

“Correct,” he said, and his tone softened slightly. “Is this because of Illario? Teia told me of his little…fling. I did tell you to do something.”

“We made up,” you said absentmindedly.

You could almost hear Viago roll his eyes across the room. As if he and Teia were any better...

You turned to face him. You needed to talk to someone. You had three someones: Illario, Lucanis, and Viago. One was the problem, the other was riddled with other problems, so there was just Viago left.

“He’s sure he’ll become First Talon,” you said. “Like dead sure. It’s weird.”

“Illario? First Talon?” Viago let out a rare laugh. “Are you serious?”

“It’s weird, don’t you think?” you said, putting the thoughts that had swirled around in your head since he first mentioned it into words. “I mean Caterina just died, his cousin just came back, and now he has mentioned it to me twice.”

“Why does he think that?” Viago asked. “We both know that if another Dellamorte were to take the place of First Talon after Caterina, it would not be Illario.”

“I didn’t ask,” you said with a shrug. “But it’s weird.”

“Someone says something like that, and you don’t think to ask?” Viago asked with a scoff. “He could be planning something.”

“Well, please do forgive me,” you said sarcastically. “Illario was in the middle of proposing the first time he said it, and the second time, he was inside me. It didn’t really seem like the time to bring it up.”

Viago’s face soured as if he had just taken a bite of something utterly disgusting. He raised his finger at you.

“Don’t ever say those words in that order to me ever again,” he said.

You smiled. Making Viago uncomfortable was one of the few joys in life. It was painfully easy.

“I will send someone to sniff around a bit,” he said. “Keep this between us for now, yes?”

You nodded.

[annanuna-arts]

I'm cooking (again)

Because I like my men pathetic, I'm writing new fic with Illario. Soon on ao3, but I have to finish it all first and be sure it's angsty enough~

A little snippet:

[...] Her chest tightened painfully as she watched him crumble, his shoulders trembling as he tried and failed to hold himself together. Without thinking, she reached out, her hands finding his face and cradling it gently. His skin was warm and damp under her palms, his stubble rough against her thumbs as she wiped away his tears.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice low and steady as she tilted his face toward hers. "It almost cost you life to finally grow up?"

Her tone was softer than her words suggested, and he let out a weak, broken laugh that quickly dissolved into another shaky breath. He pressed his face into her palms, his gaze meeting hers with such intensity that it made her heart ache.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "For all of it. For wasting time. For being such a mess. For not being what you deserve."

She shook her head, trying not to give up to her own emotions, her thumbs brushing over his cheeks again, smearing away more tears as they fell.

He let out a trembling sigh, his hands reaching up to cover hers, his larger, darker fingers trembling as they curled over hers.[...]

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 5: Honorable Intentions

“So how does Spite feel about Illario?”  “SPINELESS. WHINY-” “About how he feels about most people.” “And that is…?” Taking his coffee from the counter, he sipped it slowly before responding.  “Impatient.” “Even me?” She batted her lashes. “Do you ever think he’ll just get fed up and-” “Why don’t we talk about something else, mm?”

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: With both Spite and Rook keeping him on edge, Lucanis looks for distraction in meal prep...

Word Count: 2.6k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! warnings: I use the word cock ONCE. (sorry) Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Aunt Viama stood barefoot on the couch, peeking through the window nervously. 

“Viago, take Fiamma to her room!” She hissed, “Dante, what is she doing here?”

“Relax, she doesn’t bite. It’s probably a contract,” said Fiamma’s father, as the two children snuck to their favorite eavesdropping spot in the hall and exchanged a look.

“Are you kidding me? My sister’s been in the ground one week! You’re grieving! We’re grieving!”

He motioned her aside and opened the door, ignoring her objections.

“Caterina, to what do I owe the honor?” He beckoned her inside with a polite gesture.

Calm and collected, the First Talon entered the den, her cane tapping against the wooden floor. A boy, roughly Fiamma’s age, clung to her coattails as she walked. Lucanis trailed behind them, his head bowed. 

“I’m sorry to trouble you during such a painful time, Dante,” she kissed him on each cheek in greeting, “but my grandson has gifted your daughter something that was not his to give away.” 

“What did you do, Fiammetta?” Viago demanded, pinching her arm.

“It wasn’t me. It was Lucanis!” she whispered, slapping his hand away and running to her bedroom. Throwing herself under her bed, she retrieved one of her mother’s old hat boxes and pried off the lid, sifting through her trinkets in search of the opal. The sound of Caterina’s muffled voice carried through the wall from the next room.

“I encourage my grandson to steal whatever his heart desires, if he can get away with it, presuming he’d go after sweets or knives. Instead, he takes books and gems.” She huffed. 

“The makings of a good Crow,” Dante said. “An eye for knowledge and beauty.” 

Caterina made a noise of disapproval. “Any other would have been inconsequential, but this one…has history. I was having a new setting made for this one and he swiped it before I could get it to my jeweler…”

With a pounding heart, Fiamma carefully took out the gem and cradled it in her palm one last time, before she closed her fist around it, stashed the box back under her bed, and shuffled into the den.

“Miss Caterina.” She straightened her posture, extending her hand. “Please don’t be mad. Lucanis just wanted to make me feel better.”

Dante’s mouth fell open in surprise as Caterina bent down and plucked the opal from his daughter’s hands. His eyes widened as she held it in the light, examining it. “Is that…”

“Yes.” Caterina retrieved her coin purse from inside her coat and slipped it inside. “You are a very honorable girl, Fiammetta. My grandsons could learn a great deal from you.” 

Behind her, Lucanis raised his head, his brown eyes heavy with embarrassment. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble, Fiammetta.”

“Nonsense, Lucanis. She isn’t in trouble for your oversight.” Caterina snapped.

Fiamma’s father crouched beside him. “It was a kind gesture, Lucanis.” He said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you meant well.”

Caterina nodded. “I apologize for the intrusion, Dante. My deepest condolences…but if you don’t mind lending me just a bit more of your time, there’s some Crow business I’d like to discuss.” She glanced around. “Is there somewhere we can chat?”

Dante rose to his feet. “Of course. I’ll have Viama put some coffee on.” He turned to Fiamma and kissed the top of her head. 

“Why don’t you take Lucanis and Illario to play with Viago? I’m sure he’s not far...” her father murmured, frowning with gentle disapproval as his gaze drifted toward the shadow in the hallway. 

As the adults departed, Viago emerged from the hall, nudging Lucanis with his elbow and gesturing towards the front door with a subtle tilt of his head. With a shameful look, Lucanis tore his eyes away from Fiamma’s and followed her cousin outside. 

Charging forward, the youngest Dellamorte seized her hand, shaking it a little too hard.

“I’m Illario.” He said earnestly. “Can I see the rest of your house? I bet it’s not as big as my Nonna’s!”

Fiamma blinked, her gaze moving past him to the door as it shut behind the older boys. Forbidden from leaving the house without her father’s escort, she had no choice but to stay behind.

“Um…sure.” She said, trying to hide the disappointment in her tone. “Do you like art? My papa has lots of paintings in his office.”

Illario grinned, giving a charming bow, as if reenacting something he’d seen an adult do. 

“I like whatever you like.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Not even a dragon attack could close the Treviso markets. The following day, they opened as usual, with a nervous undercurrent of chatter among the merchants. Lucanis browsed the stalls, taking the opportunity to shop while Rook slept in. Viago and Teia had already left to handle Crow matters at the casino, and he needed some time to clear his head.

Spite’s unpredictable nature gave him an aversion to sleep these days, and thanks to Rook, he wouldn’t have slept last night even if he wanted to. Lying on Viago’s couch, he stared at the ceiling, struggling to dismiss the images her words had evoked as his cock strained uncomfortably against the front of his trousers. Worse, Spite took a maddening amount of delight in Lucanis’ discomfort, and even more so at Rook’s mischievousness. It worried him - how would Spite react to Rook the next time he took control? He couldn’t risk sleeping, couldn’t risk Spite climbing into bed with her when she was inebriated, vulnerable, alone…

“MAYBE ROOK WANTS YOU IN HER BED. SPITE IS JUST HELPING.”

He shuddered and deposited a few gold coins in a merchant’s palm, wrapping up his purchase and heading back to Viago’s apartment. If he was lucky, Rook would wake with a nasty hangover and have forgotten the entire evening.

Upon his return, the house was still quiet. Lucanis deposited his groceries on the counter and lit the stove, setting a kettle of water atop it, before venturing down the hall to knock softly on Rook’s door. He cracked it open, knowing if he let her sleep any longer, she’d be furious at him for not waking her. 

Through the gap, he watched her lift her head, brushing her tousled hair from her face to look over her bare shoulders at him. Her white sheets slid down, settling just below the curve of her waist, and he shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. Holding them over her breasts, she squinted at him and rolled onto her back. 

“Lucanis?” She muttered, shielding her eyes from the light pouring in through her windows, “What time is it?”

He averted his gaze, preferring to stare at the sun than endure this any longer. 

“Midday.”

She jerked forward. “Why did you let me sleep so late?” 

“I thought you might need it.” He said, turning back to the hall, “Get dressed and come get some coffee. I’ll make breakfast.”

Lucanis moved with measured steps, his eyes glued to the floor until he reached the kitchen. He prepped Viago’s glass coffee maker, admiring the craftsmanship, and pulled out a cutting board, peeling and mincing several cloves of garlic. 

Rook wandered in soon after, hair freshly brushed and clearly having capitalized on the availability of her old wardrobe. She wore a lace-necked blouse, a crow brooch pinned at the base of her throat, and a pair of loose, black trousers. Around her shoulders, she had draped a velvet purple cloak that fell just above the soles of her leather boots. 

He glanced up with a raised eyebrow, then returned his focus to the tomato he was coring.  

“I made coffee.” He said stiffly. 

“Of course you did.” As she went to pour herself a cup, her hip brushed against his. 

“SMELLS LIKE LAVENDER AND CITRUS BLOSSOM.”

He cleared his throat, picking up another tomato. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Morning hangover aside?” she sat down across the counter from him and took a sip from her mug. “I appreciate you trying to relieve me of some of my guilt yesterday, but let’s keep the vintage away until after we’ve killed a few gods, hmm?” 

He smiled, letting a huff of air escape from his nose. “Of course.”

“How did you sleep?” 

“Fine.” He lied, dicing a bell pepper while admiring Viago’s kitchen knives. They were sharp enough to make a clean kill if they needed to. Maybe that was the point.

“Can I help?” She nodded towards the stove. Did she remember a single thing she said last night? Was she toying with him? Or too embarrassed to bring it up? 

“YOU BRING IT UP!”

“The pan should be warm enough. You can oil it.”

She stood and rummaged through Viago’s cabinets, retrieving a bottle and uncapping it. “So how does Spite feel about Illario?” 

“SPINELESS. WHINY-”

“About how he feels about most people.” Lucanis scraped garlic and onion into the sizzling oil, adding an assortment of spices. 

“And that is…?”

He incorporated the tomatoes and a dash of cream, stirring as he tried to ignore her curious gaze over his shoulder. Taking his coffee from the counter, he sipped it slowly before responding. 

“Impatient.”

“Even with me?” She batted her lashes. “Do you ever think he’ll just get fed up and-”

“Why don’t we talk about something else, mm?” Lucanis suggested, pulling out one of his market bags and retrieving a few eggs. He steered Rook aside, placing his hands on her shoulders so he could reach the stove.

“THE COUNTER. SHE’D LIKE TO BE BENT OVER-”

“Oh. Sure.” She returned to her seat. “Thanks for making me breakfast.”

“It’s not entirely unselfish. Viago has a nicer kitchen than the Lighthouse does.” He said, breaking the eggs into the stewed tomatoes.

Rook rested her chin on her hands. “True.”

“Is it nice being back?” Lucanis asked, removing the pan from the stovetop and dividing its contents across two plates. He gave her one, then took out a baguette and sliced off a few pieces for them to share. 

“In some ways. When I was on Viago’s bad side, it wasn’t always so nice.”

Lucanis settled beside her, mopping at his eggs with his bread, letting the yoke bleed into the tomatoes. 

“I might still be on his Viago’s bad side. Who knows?” Fiamma said and took a bite of her food. She uttered a soft moan of pleasure, and Lucanis dropped his silverware. Rook remained oblivious and continued eating. 

They finished breakfast in silence, the hallmark of a well-prepared meal, and Lucanis rose, picking up her plate and mug and taking them to the washbasin. They needed to get out of here, for more reasons than one. 

“I told you, Viago is used to picking up after me,” Rook said with a grin. 

So she did remember last night. 

“If he has a good side, I’d like to stay on it.” Lucanis said, scrubbing the dishes clean. Rook joined him near the sink, grabbing a towel and holding her hand out. He passed her a plate, and she dried it carefully. 

“Are we…good?” She asked, pushing the plate aside to take the next one. 

“We’re good.” Lucanis said, shaking water from his hands and wiping them on his pants. “Let’s get back to work.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

The days that followed dragged on. Devastated by Neve’s absence, Bellara became determined to find a dragon hunter and a Veil Expert, furiously taking notes and charging ahead with renewed vigor. And find them she did. After excursions to Rivain and the Necropolis, Emmrich Volkarin, a Mortalitasi, and Taash, a Qunari with a talent for fire-breathing, joined their team. Emmrich arrived with an animated skeleton assistant, Manfred, who was quickly becoming Rook’s favorite recruit. More odd, but enjoyable personalities, to add to their collective. 

“So Lucanis, you’re an Antivan Crow?” Taash asked, their feet kicked up on the dinner table as Lucanis prepared dinner.

“Yes. Like Rook.” He replied from the stove. Rook could feel his disappointment from across the room - he undoubtedly missed the accommodations of Viago’s kitchen. 

“Do all Antivan Crows have demons?”

“What? No!” He spun around. “Spite was put into me by the Venatori.”

Since their arrival, their new companion had bombarded Lucanis and Rook with endless, bizarre questions about Crow customs. Varric would have relished the chance to spin his wild tales for Taash. Unfortunately, he took most of his meals in his chambers and wasn’t keen on visitors other than Rook.  

“Demons typically infect mages through manipulation, but Lucanis’ situation is…rather unique.” Emmrich explained. 

“Oh. That’s messed up.” Taash removed their feet from the table and leaned forward. “What’s Spite like?”

“Angry. Impulsive. Annoying.” Lucanis said, taking the soup he was making off the fire. 

“If he’s so unhappy, why doesn’t he just leave?”

“It would likely kill me.”

“No offense, but why would he care?”

Lucanis hesitated. 

“Because we have a deal.”

Rook’s head snapped up as she set Emmrich’s bowl down in front of him. “You made a deal with a demon? ”

Manfred let out a hiss of discontent, stomping his feet in a panic. 

“Oh, Lucanis…” Emmrich lamented, shaking his head. “That was a very foolish thing to do…”

“Zara was waiting for Spite to break out of my body like a moth in a cocoon. I convinced him we wanted the same thing and promised I’d give it to him.”

“And that was that?” Asked Taash. 

“Her. Dead.” Lucanis said, bringing the soup to the table and ladling it into the bowls Rook had set out. The large doors to the kitchen swung open, and Davrin entered, Assan playfully nipping at his heels. He took the furthest seat from Lucanis at the head of the table. The two hadn’t gotten on particularly well ever since Davrin found out about Spite. 

“Play nice,” Rook warned in a low voice, handing the Grey Warden a goblet and filling it with port. She took a seat beside Lucanis, whose end of the table always filled up slowly, everyone wary of his demonic passenger. 

As she blew on her spoonful of soup, Rook caught sight of Bellara entering with Harding and, to her astonishment, Neve. The three appeared to be mid conversation, putting her slightly on edge.

“Are they really gods, though?” Harding asked, looking up at the detective.

“They’re gods. Or the closest thing to them.” 

“Neve!” Rook breathed, setting down her silverware and bracing her hands on the table. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” she said, not sparing her so much as a glance as she took her seat next to Davrin. “I am.”

The cold shoulder stung, and Rook lowered her head, taking a measured inhale. Neve’s feelings were her own, and she had the right to be disappointed.

“A couple of new people have joined our team since you left,” Harding, seeking to ease the tension, chimed in. “This is Professor Emmrich Volkarin, he’s our fade expert. That’s his assistant beside him, Manfred. And there’s Taash, our dragon hunter.”

“Hey.” Taash said.

Emmrich gave an elegant wave. “Charmed.” 

“A dragon hunter?” Neve asked Taash, “Minrathous could have used you.” 

Rook stiffened as something grazed her knee beneath the table. Startled, her eyes flicked to Lucanis, who offered a tight smile and reassuringly squeezed her knee.

Mierda. This was trouble. 

“So what’s going on?” Rook asked Neve, tearing her gaze from Lucanis. He withdrew his hand and glanced down awkwardly, returning to his dinner.  

“Back home? What isn’t?” Neve sighed, mustering all the civility she could. “Look, you made an impossible call without enough information. I get it. It’s the corner the gods put us in. It just…might take time to shake off.”

Rook dipped her chin. “Of course.” 

“You are back, though, right?” Bellara asked. 

Neve lifted her wineglass and took a deep drink. 

“Yeah, Bel. I’m back.”

[vakariansyndrome]

Illario's Little Mouse (Fanfic preview)

@elvhendis This is the kind of brainrot your work has stirred up in me. I hope you're proud of yourself. No, really. This is just a taste. I've been at this for the last three and half hours. No shame. I will finish editing tomorrow (there is a bit more).

This is a spicy excerpt, but nothing super explicit (by my measure). 😏

-----

Illario’s thumb grazed the edge of her jaw as he tipped her chin upward, holding her face beneath his careful touch. In his other hand, he held the rouge—a deep crimson that complimented her complexion perfectly. Or so he assured her.

He leaned in closer, and she could smell the musk of his cologne, rich and sweet with a hint of spice. She studied the lines of his face, the way his lips twitched devilishly as he pressed the lipstick against her mouth. He blotted the color onto the center of her lips with featherlight pats, deftly working outwards to the corners of her mouth.

“Hold still,” he murmured, though it was unnecessary; Rook hadn't dared move a muscle since the moment he touched her.

She did not close her eyes. She did not look away from his gaze. She simply sat there, resting on her laurels as heart fluttered in her chest, blood rushing through her ears until it felt like the only sound in the entire room was their shared breathing.

His breath brushed her cheek, carrying the faint smell of a bold red wine. With his thumb, he carefully shaped and coaxed the color into perfection. The smile on his lips widened slightly when Rook parted her own, but he said nothing. His attention remained fixed on her mouth, rapt.

“There,” he said with a silky whisper, “such a perfect mouth. Full and soft. But not nearly as sinful as it could be.”

Rook looked up at him through thick dark lashes as a simmering heat pooled between her thighs. When his thumb traced her bottom lip, pulling it down slightly, she forgot how to breathe. Entranced, she watched as he brought that same finger to his own lips, dragging his tongue over the digit with a low hum of approval.

The sound slithered down her spine, straight to the ache between her thighs. She couldn't help the needy whimper that escaped her throat. Her stomach tightened, and she trembled under the weight of her arousal, moist and pooling in the lace of her panties.

“Do you know,” Illario practically purred, “how many men would trade their fortunes for a moment like this? Just to hold you here and indulge in this wicked shade against your skin?” He leaned in closer, his lips ghosting over her ear. “But it’s mine to admire, isn't it? Mine to ruin, should I wish to.”

As he spoke, his thumb resumed its path along her bottom lip, tugging and teasing her mouth open again. Unable to resist, she parted them willingly and allowed his touch inside. As soon as the pad of his finger passed over her tongue, he slid another finger past her teeth. Her breath caught in her throat as he pressed down on her tongue, pushing back until she was forced to swallow him deeper.

Illario let out a shuddering breath. "I should kiss you," he breathed, the rise and fall of his bare chest mirroring her own. "Would you like that, mi topolina?"

----

Read the whole thing here!

Thanks for reading! And thank you, Elvhendis, for sharing such beautiful artwork! <3

[forallofthedas]

Lucanis Tag Drop

👿

Lucanis is a Master Assassin in the Antivan Crows. He is a companion and romance interest in The Veilguard.

Default World State: Treviso Saved, Illario was executed for his betrayal

IRL FC: TBD

👿 gets paid to deliver death like a letter: about lucanis dellamorte 👿 believes himself a true monster now: lucanis dellamorte headcanons 👿 i don't have illario's gift for flirting: lucanis dellamorte relationships 👿 the demon of vyrantium: lucanis dellamorte visage 👿 gods magic politics things are going to get very bloody: lucanis dellamorte musings 👿 a crow flying on a demon's wings: lucanis dellamorte interactions 👿 the crows send their regards: lucanis dellamorte asks 👿 surviving on coffee and spite: lucanis dellamorte aesthetics 👿 i was afraid of wanting you: lucanis dellamorte smut 👿 my demon says to stab you and i agree with him: lucanis dellamorte crack

[thechosenof]

Ma Halani pt.2

A/N Guys this story... Man. I wanted it to be more clear that Rook was, in all actuality, deeply bothered by Solas and everything she has to deal with. So this was sort of her breaking point. Anyways, one more short part to write and then it's a wrap for Ma Halani. Enjoy!

Warnings: More smut, biting, and slight depression. This one also isn't double checked for errors, just let me know if you see any.

Rook refused to sleep for four days when she finally got back from the prison. Shame and anger warred inside of her mind, a constant, churning dread of falling asleep just to see him again. She couldn’t.

She had returned from the Fade a ghost, silent, withdrawn, and barely cognizant of them. They worried around her, probing for answers to where she had gone, what had happened, if she was okay. Of course, she wasn’t okay. Nothing about what had happened was okay. But she couldn’t bring herself to answer them. Not a single one of their inquiries. Instead, she sat like a corpse on her couch in the lighthouse, in front of the aquarium, just staring at the fish swimming around. Eventually, her friends had left, taking their concerned looks with them. Still, she didn’t move. She felt stuck there, like she was still with him, his eyes boring into her so gently.

The first day passed like that, and before long it was night. The others had left her be, knowing that she might be back with them, but she wasn’t really there. But then Lucanis walked in, bringing two mugs with him. He sat next to her quietly, putting one purple cup in her hand. Ciocolatta calda, she recognized quickly. It was what she had gotten when they had gone to Treviso to meet with Illario. She waited for another onslaught of questions, but it never came. Lucanis just watched the fish silently as she had been, sipping his own black coffee slowly.

There was an unspoken understanding between them: she didn’t need to talk, but he was there for her. Finally, she took a drink from her own mug, a long sigh passing her lips as the tension finally slipped from her stiffened body. Lucanis watched from the corner of his eyes, a small, satisfied smile gracing his lips from behind his coffee. They sat like that for a while, simply drinking in a moment of silence. It was comfortable, and much appreciated. Once their drinks were gone, he stood, collected her mug, murmured a quiet goodnight, and then left her to herself. 

The next morning she met everyone at the dining table, giving them an apology for how she had acted the day before. She explained that she had been sent to the Fade, that the Venatori had hoped she would be trapped there. She didn’t mention aphrodisiac, nor did she dare utter a word about Solas. Venatori, potion, fade, entrapment. That’s it. Each of her friends accepted her explanation, evening if they picked up there was more to it. She was back, she was okay except for some minor scruff, that’s all that mattered. However, after everyone had had their time to wake up and become functioning people, they may have wished she would have stayed in the Fade a bit longer.

Rook wouldn’t fall asleep, so instead, she filled their days with countless duties that need to be done. Assisting her teammates in their respective cities, coffee, countless fights with Venatori and Antaam, more coffee, reading and filling reports, and pausing once more for coffee. The bitter liquid made her face pull back in disgust, but it kept her awake. So she kept drinking it to avoid the unwelcome guest that sat waiting in her mind, haunting her every thought. They were tired. It was nonstop. They new in the long run this was helpful, but they were growing weary. 

Her fourth night back, Neve cornered her in the library. 

“Rook, you need to sleep. You haven’t slept a wink since you got back.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but Neve cut her off by holding her hand up.

“Don’t even try. The bags under your eyes could house the homeless in Dock Town.” She guided Rook towards the pantry. “Proper meal, bath, then sleep. Now.”

Once in the pantry, Neve asked Lucanis to make Rook something light to eat and then went off on her way to rest herself. Rook sat at the dining table as Lucanis bustled around the kitchen. She zoned out as he chopped vegetables, the sound of the knife hitting the cutting board reminding her of Solas’ thrust. Deep, measured, calculated. Her fists clenched on top of the table. Why had he done that? Anger filtered up into her throat making it burn, tears stinging at her eyes as she became filled with rage towards him once again.

Lucanis noticed her shift in demeanor, clearing his throat before setting a bowl down between her clenched hands, then he pulled out a chair for himself next to her. She gave a weak ‘thank you’ before picking up the soup he had given her, eating the soup he had made. She ate in silence, Lucanis’s gaze flitting over to her every few minutes. Rook rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I’m fine, Lucanis.” He raised an unbelieving eyebrow at her, his arms crossed as he leaned back in the chair. 

“Are you really okay?” Rook stared at him, her gaze giving no indication to how she was feeling. She just looked empty. Finally, she cast her eyes down to the soup, swirling it around in the bowl slowly.

“I have to be okay.” Her voice was hardly a whisper. Then she offered him a soft, strained smile, stood from the table, and began walking away. As she got to the door, she turned to him,

“Thank you for the soup, and the hot chocolate the other day.” She said before finally leaving, the door closing behind her with a dull thud. Lucanis just stared at where she had stood, his brow furrowed in concern.

Rook walked into her washroom, filled the tub with water, then stepped in slowly. She hissed as the scalding water burned her skin. But the burn felt good. It made her feel real. Her body slouched until only her nose and eyes remained above the surface, her gaze set at the clear liquid, her body rippling underneath as she breathed. After a moment, she sat up, beginning to wash the grime off of her body. Neve was right, she needed this. Her hands rubbed at her hips, and she flinched as a sore pain reverberated. Looking down, she frowned. Solas’s fingerprints were bruised into her skin, nearly engraving her. She let her own fingers trace over the bruises, and then once again, she felt her anger flare. Suddenly she was scrubbing at the marks. Scrubbing, and rubbing, and scouring her skin until it became raw. 

All the while she thought of his hands on her. They had been so rough, heated, and mean; until they weren’t. Then they were soft, and curious. She felt nauseous. Solas’s eyes had been predatory, a quiet amusement from her desperation. Had he only fucked her to win her over? But he had held her so tightly, like he hadn’t wanted to let go. Like he needed her at that moment. At that moment. So he wasn’t alone. She let out an animalistic snarl that turned into a strained cry. This was so fucking irritating. How was she supposed to face him again?

She hated him. With her whole entire being, she wished for nothing but his downfall. This never would have happened if he hadn’t tried to tear down the veil. None of this would be happening. She wouldn’t be fighting blighted gods, blood mages, Qunari Antaam, Weisshaupt wouldn’t have fallen, none of it.

None of it?

She paused for a moment, recounting everything her and her team had done till then. The corruptness they dispelled, the people they helped, everything. Suddenly, she wasn’t so angry. That one revelation didn’t make all the bad go away, but it did make the weight just a little lighter. 

Rook stood from the tub, the water had long become cold, making the chilly air easy to bear. She grabbed a towel and dried herself, the rough fabric scraping against her skin. She dressed in a long, loose tunic, far too exhausted to dress in proper clothing. Once in her room again, she laid herself on the green couch, her gaze drifting to the hypnotic movement of the fish.The rhythmic movements of their fins lulled her into sleep quickly. It didn’t come as a welcome respite, but more of a reluctant surrender, her exhaustion finally winning. 

For just a moment, there was nothing. No thoughts, feelings, or senses. It was just an empty sleep like what she used to have, until she was abruptly thrust in front of Solas. This time, they were back in their normal positions, ready to play their parts. However, this time, the gap normally between them seemed much smaller, almost as though it was only a crack that she could just jump over. She didn’t mention it.

“Rook?” His voice, a low murmur cut through the silence of the fade. She felt the hair on her neck stand on edge, and a shiver run down her spine. She mentally cursed herself for letting this elf have such an adverse effect on her, just from calling her name in surprise. 

Rook met his gaze, her own eyes souring as she finally took in his appearance. He looked the exact same. He looked fine. He wasn’t in any sort of turmoil like she was and that aggravated her. That she allowed herself to be so upset by him while he couldn't care less about what had passed between them. 

“Solas.” She replied. Her voice was clipped. Short and sharp, emotionless. She would not let him hold any place in her head. In her heart. 

“It has been days. Are you alright?” he asked. 

“That’s none of your business,” She deflected him quickly. His brow twitched slightly, hardly noticeable, but still there.

“Elgar’nan is planning to make a lyrium dagger. How do we stop him?”

Solas rolled his head to the side, his body following suit. His jaw was clenched tightly, deep in thought for a moment.

“I see,” He said, sardonic amusement hinting in his tone. 

“Don’t act like a victim. You’re not commiting to a noble sacrifice by being locked away in here. You’re a liar,” She takes a step forward.

“A manipulator,” She continued.

“I won’t be a pawn in your demented game anymore.” Her feet are at the edge of the gap between them, a sneer on her face, daring him to correct her. The bitterness in Rook’s voice was tangible, stemming from her hurt and betrayed trust of him.

“You are not a pawn, more like,” He thinks for a moment.

“An anomaly. Something I had not predicted or ever considered.” He allowed a truth for every 10 of his lies. He really hadn’t expected her. Her defiance, her wit, none of it. Never would he have thought he would be sat locked in a prison of his own creation, with one modern elf to be his life line to the outside world. And he definitely hadn’t expected to fuck her, let alone feel anything more than contempt towards her.

“That’s wonderful. I’m so thrilled that I was here to disrupt your grand schemes.”

This time, Solas stepped forward, like a hooked fish.

“You misunderstand me. My intentions are to make right what I have wronged, even if my methods are-” His voice had been gentle, gradually building in a crescendo as he tried to defend his actions.

“Your methods are monstrous. You use people, Solas. You manipulate them. And if that doesn’t work? You get rid of them by whatever means you deem fit.” She interrupted, her voice raw.

“Why are my actions so important to you?” He knew the answer, he had started this all in order to get her into the palm of his hand. In this moment, he used that to his advantage. He hadn’t known that he would become entangled in her own web, tied around her pinkie finger. Solas regretted that decision.

“Don’t twist this anymore than you already have,” She whispered, her voice trembling at the start. Her eyes looked so sad. Solas raised his eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He put his hands behind his back, taking three large steps backwards and away from her.

“Elgar’nan's power is tied to light and darkness. He will need to perform a ritual during the next eclipse. That will give you and your team some time to prepare.”

Rook nods her head, thinking of everything they may still need to do beforehand, and trying to come up with just how exactly they were supposed to train for this. Then, Solas’s voice rang out, gentle and encouraging,

“I know that you will do everything in your power not to fail them.”

Her eyes drifted back to him, startled by the softness in his voice. When her gaze landed on his face, she was taken aback, taking in a sharp intake of air. There, in front of her, her, the Dread Wolf had shown her a ghost of a smile, not quite reaching his eyes, but still genuine. The soft curve of his lips stood out vastly with the sharp angle of his jaw, and the intensity of his gaze. His violet eyes, usually so calculating and sharp, were half-lidded. The heat she felt forming in her stomach made her feel sick. He looked like just a man at that moment. 

There was a stillness to him, it was a silent intensity that drew her in despite all of her judgements. It was a look that spoke of hidden secrets, more than just regrets, but triumphs and bittersweet happiness. It was the look of a man who carried the weight of this world, and the last, on his very soul. But at this moment, he was offering her some solace. And in her solace, he found his own peace, a peace that she knew that he did not deserve, but thought might be okay for her own peace of mind right now.

They stood like that for a time, just gazing at one another, his face gradually morphing into something new but familiar. He looked like he was yearning for something, or someone, and Rook couldn’t help herself from wishing that it was directed towards her.

“Solas,”

“Rook,” They started at the same time. Both pairs of eyes widened, his softening first,

“Please, go ahead.”

She glanced away, picking at the skin around her nails. A horrible habit she had picked up as a child.

“Why do you look at me like that sometimes?” She finally asked, her voice barely above a ghost of a whisper. 

Her question hung suspended in the tense air between them, delicate and volatile. Like a string frayed to its last thread, taut, threatening to snap with one wrong pull. Solas’s expression shifted; the minutes of softness they had only just shared disappeared, his features that had been warmed briefly now retreated, replaced now by guarded eyes. He didn’t answer her immediately, the ensuing silence was heavy with unspoken emotions. It felt oppressive. 

Rook could hear her own heartbeat beating in her ears like a drum, a frantic sound against the otherwise stillness around them. She hated this, hated the way that under his gaze, her pulse quickened so easily, hated the way that the anger she had been stewing in for days crumbled under the weight of his silence.

“Like what?” He finally asked, his voice a low murmur from deep in his chest. It was cautious, the carefully modulated tones controlling his emotions. Yet, a fleeting quirk of his lips betrayed the underlying amusement.

Rook’s lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t want to explain herself, she didn’t want to figure out while she felt so antsy under the unsettling intensity of his gaze. A gaze that had the ability to pierce her defenses and feel oddly tender, simultaneously. It was a look that read that he wanted to put his hands into the puzzle that was her mind, try and fit the pieces together to see just why she was the way she was. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to dissect her, but she was expected to just accept the god of lies, trickery, and treachery as he was. Before she could think of the consequences to her words, she spoke,

“It’s like… You’re holding back. Like you’re holding yourself back.” 

The prison shook at the ground moved, pieces falling apart and mashing together to bridge the gap between them. Rook stumbled forward, losing her footing at the quakes. Just as she thought she would fall, Solas’s arms wrapped around her waist just as he’d done only days ago. His grasp made her tense up, frozen in his hold like a rabbit cornered by a wolf. His scent- Fade-like, woodsy, and old, infiltrated her senses. It was all-encompassing and intoxicating. Unsettling. When he next spoke, Rook could feel the rumble in his chest although his voice was controlled, with each syllable measured, each word carefully selected just for her.

“And if I am? What would you do with that knowledge?” Another deflection, an answer inside of a question. With this, he shifted the burden of responsibility of a real answer onto her again. 

Rook frowned, frustration bubbling to the surface one more, threatening to overthrow the control she had promised herself to keep. She pulled away from him, pushing him back by his broad chest. 

“That’s not an answer, Solas. You- you always do this,” She began, beyond exasperated. She turned her back to him, throwing her arms in the air.

“You twist my questions, avoiding giving me answers with riddles, concealing the truth with well-thought half-truths and ambiguities!” She turned to face him once again, this time with space between them so she could think.

“For once,” Her eyes met his,

“Just tell me the truth.” Her voice was pleading, begging him. Rook knew this was a bad idea, letting him in and see this part of her. The part of her that was still immature and childish, wishing and hoping for there to be good in everyone, no matter how miniscule. She understood from the wolf statuettes that manipulation and burden is all he had known, but did he want for more? Did he have dreams and ambitions that didn’t revolve around his past, around Mythal? Did he want redemption?

His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering, stubborn, a stare that caught her breath once more. For a long moment, a beat too long, he simply took her in. His expression was unreadable, a silent battle waging on behind those beautifully sad eyes of his. Finally, he relented, stepping forward and cupping her cheek. She flinched, her eyes closing instinctively. He chuckled.

“Very well. You want my honesty?” He asked her, thumb brushing her cheek delicately.

“Yes.” She whispered. Her stomach twisted and turned on itself, not knowing what to expect from him anymore. He tilted his head to the side and let his thumb trace over her bottom lip.  

“I look at you the way a starved man may look as a coin glistening at the bottom of a well.” He paused, wondering if that was the best way. For once, he wasn’t trying to craft an image of false promises, just how he felt. 

“You are tempting, beyond beautiful, and valuable. But dangerous, out of reach. You remind me of what I can never have. Something I should never have desired.”

Her eyes were wide, tears welling once again, and his thumb moved to brush them away. 

“I- Solas, well I- I don’t know what to say.” She stumbled on her words. A faint breathy chuckle escaped from Salas’s lips. He smiled down at her.

“You are a complication that I never anticipated, one that I cannot ignore, nor do I want to.” 

“How am I supposed to answer that, Solas?” She wanted to be angry. To throw at him everything that she knew he had done, and even then, that wouldn’t be enough. But her chest was tight and her throat was choked. He stayed silent, watching her curiously as she worked through her thoughts and feelings right in the moment, once again in his hands.

“I don’t need your peace,” she insisted, her voice thick with emotion, defying what he offered to her as consolation.

“I don’t need your pity or your excuses. I just-” A whimper escaped her chapped lips, a choked and painful sound. Her hands tightened in the fabric of his shirt. The words were caught in her throat; they were an unspoken plea hanging over them both. Finally, she found the words, barely managing to utter them.

“Tell me this is real. If any of this- your feelings- was any of it ever real?”

Solas leaned down, his forehead coming to rest delicately against hers. Their breaths mingled, a silent blending of their unspoken truths, and untold deceptions. They closed their eyes, surrendering to the intimacy of the moment. They breathed together as one, drawing strength and relinquishing their doubts in each other’s presence. He whispered, his voice not faltering in his answer to her, dangerous and undeniable.

“It was,” His lips brushed hers, a fleeting touch that made her crave more. The words he mustered were soft yet unshakable, a promise whispered to her heart.

“It is.” Finally. Finally the walls were broken and each laid bare to the other. Her chest ached painfully, resonating pain throughout her being. A physical reaction to the emotional turmoil she had felt the past few days, finally coming to a head. She wanted to believe him and his sweet words, to surrender to the hope his words offered, even knowing the inherent risks of trusting Fen’Harel. This one moment could lead to her downfall, but dammit, she wanted so badly to trust in him. So she did. Just this once, she would indulge in what she wanted, no matter how forbidden the fruit was. 

Slowly, she craned her neck upwards, pressing her lips to his, seeking him with urgency. Rook needed him to confirm what he had told her. The instant their mouths met, Solas responded, his body melting into hers like a graceful fall. His arms pulled her even closer, until there was no space to breach between them. Her hands were still balled into fists, clutching at his shirt, her knuckles lightening from the pressure. Meanwhile, his hands gradually moved lower, hesitating for a moment. At least until she whimpered, then his hands made their way to the curve of her hips, and then lower to settle firmly on her ass, pulling her tunic up to feel her skin in his hands. 

And with that, she was his. Completely, utterly, irrevocably, his. 

She could still feel anger deep in her gut, eating away at her, but at present, her need to believe that there was the smallest amount of good in him outweighed that. And honestly, as his hands roamed the expanse of her bruised and spent skin, she couldn’t care less about anything else around them. It was just them, their feelings, and their needs. And right now, she needs him.

Rook’s hands unclenched from his shirt, roaming the expanse of his shoulders until they made their way to cradle his head, comforting him, if only a little bit. Her tongue grazed his bottom lip, asking for permission that he granted without question, letting her lead the moment between them. His hands continued to drift over her body, stopping periodically to grasp at her, making sure she’s real, and still there. 

The kiss became heated, the initial tenderness morphing into a fiery urgency to be one with the other. Solas grabbed the bottom of Rook’s tunic, breaking the kiss to pull it over her head. He looked at her, taking in the dips and crevices of her body. Her skin was flushed with desire, her nipples hardened under his gaze and he smirked, knowing that he could raise such a delicious reaction from her. His hand dropped her tunic to the ground, hand raising to cup her breast, squeezing it and eliciting a whine from her. He let go, hand moving down her rib, to waist, hip, crossing her stomach, and then cupping her sex. 

Rook ground her hips down into his hand, letting him feel how much she wanted him. This time, not out of pure necessity, but actual want. He groaned, not wasting any time to slip one of his lengthy, pale fingers between her folds and inside her. She gasped at the suddenness, hands grabbing to hold on to his forearms. Solas leaned down, nipping at her right ear gently, then letting his tongue run over the tenderness he had created. All the while his finger moved agonizingly slowly, in and out of her. 

“Faster…” She murmured to him, and he couldn’t help himself but to smirk down at her. He liked seeing her like this. So obedient. That would never change for him.

“Please!” Rook continued as she pushed her hips down, trying to make her point more clear. Finally, he relented, adding another finger into her sopping cunt, thrusting them quicker and harder. Her eyes rolled back, mouth falling open, as she moaned without hesitation. His head dipped down to mark her neck like he had done the last time, letting them trail higher and higher, so that people may see. He couldn’t hold back his pride as he pulled away to see the artwork he had created on her body. He angled his fingers to press along the spongy part of her insides, over and over and over, as her eyes squeezed shut, arching her back.

“S-Solas… Don’t stop ‘m so close…” Rook pleaded with him, her eyes furrowed together as she chased her high. He pressed his mouth to her parted lips, swallowing her cries as his thumb circled her clit mercilessly. She could feel his hardness against her thigh, him unconsciously grinding himself against her; it made her clench, she finally let go, her orgasm burning through her like flames licking at wood. It was fiery, hot, and made her scream out, but his mouth muffled her cries. 

Solas didn’t wait to take the rest of his clothing off, tossing it beside them. He grabbed hold of her calves, pulling her to him. She was surprised, but didn’t struggle against him, instead she slackened herself. Her body melted in his hands, legs wrapping around his hips effortlessly. She watched Solas stroke himself a few times, his eyes piercing as he watched her body twitch in the aftershocks of her last orgasm. He painted the image of her flushed skin coated in a thin layer of sweat. Her arms above her head so submissively, nipples hardened and breasts raising and falling with each breath. Her legs spread wide open, presenting herself to him so willingly with slick coating her inner thighs. And her eyes, her fucking eyes, staring at him so openly, so beautiful and full of desire. 

Solas aligned himself with her entrance, the anticipation a torment made tangible by her slick heat. He pressed himself inside her slowly, a delicious friction that stole his breath at the feeling of her tightness wrapping around his length. A hiss passed his lips, but it could hardly be heard over Rook’s own moan that tore from her as he stretched her. He paused for a moment, gazing down at their joined bodies before drawing back and slamming back inside. Her fingers clawed at the dirt above her head, leaving furrows in the ground, Her eyes, dilated and dark with heat, remained locked on his, mirroring the intensity burning in his own gaze. His brow was furrowed in concentration, bottom lip caught between his teeth, his chest flushed with exertion. One of his hands rested on her lower stomach, his thumb finding her sensitive nub between her folds, circling it with an urgent pressure that sent shivers of pleasure. Then, a jolt shocked Rook, Solas’s magic coursing through her from her clit; she let out an involuntary cry, unprepared for the sudden, breathtaking climax that stole her breath. 

He relished in the vise-like grip her cunt locked him in, his cock buried deep within her as she shuddered through her second orgasm. Her body trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure as he withdrew slowly before gently guiding her to roll onto her stomach. He moved her easily, moving himself atop her thighs, right below his ass, where he once again lined himself to her entrance. He let the head slip past her folds, teasingly rocking back and forth as a smirk played on his lips, eyes studying her flushed skin and damp hair. 

“Have I worn you out already, da’len?” he asked, the words laced with a mocking tone that only served to ignite the defiance she had always shown him.

She twisted, her eyes meeting his over her shoulder. She scoffed before responding, “Hardly.”

A low chuckled emanating from him, a sound that vibrated through her as his eyes darkened. Solas leaned over her, the weight of his body pressing into her, as his cock slowly sunk into her once more. It was slow and deliberate, something she hadn’t expected, but it was only a prelude to come. Her defiance soon faltered then dissolved into surrender as after he pulled out the first time, he had slammed into her with such force, Rook swore she had seen stars. His pace was relentless and she was grateful his arms braced her, his weight an anchor as he drove into her, his hips slapping against her ass with a fierce rhythm. 

"Hardly," she scoffed, the word a breathy defiance.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, a sound that vibrated through her as his eyes darkened, the amusement replaced by a deeper, more primal hunger. He leaned over her, the weight of his body pressing down, his entry slow and deliberate, a prelude to the storm to come. Her defiance faltered, dissolving into surrender as she closed her eyes. Her hips arched instinctively to meet him while his arms braced her, his weight anchoring him as he drove into her. Solas’s rhythm was relentless and powerful, hips slamming against her ass with a fierce, intoxicating rhythm. His mouth found her back as he alternated between kissing and nipping at her skin with each thrust. 

Then, his kisses trailed upwards, landing at her ears where he nipped at them. Rook’s eyes clenched shut as he began to whisper into her ear. Nothings and somethings flooded her mind confusing her as his cock bullied into her. 

“I could not stand you before,” he groaned, his voice a low rasp. “How is it that I do not believe I could survive without you now?” he murmured, pressing a kiss below her ear, his words lost in the flurry of sensation she felt. His hips began to stutter and, and his hand snaked its way under her to find her clit again. His fingers messily, eagerly drew circles in a pattern. Rook whimpered, feeling her climax approaching.

“Fen’Harel ma ghilana,” he whispered, his teeth grazing the space between her neck and shoulder before he unleashed himself inside of her, flooding her inside with hot, thick cum. A cry tore from her throat at the feeling, surrendering to her body’s satisfaction. She twitched under him, eyes rolled back in her head as she panted. Solas’s hand detached from her clit to rub soothing circles on her hip, gently detaching himself from her. 

Rook opened her eyes to look at him, watching as he laid himself next to her, brushing her hair back from her forehead. He gave her a soft, tired smile. She laughed and Solas was taken aback.

“Fen’Harel guides you? Seriously?” she asked, the absurdity of his final statement finally registering to her. Her laugh only grew louder at the way Solas looked off to the side, ears tinted pink. As he turned back to respond, the Fade prison faltered, and then disappeared as Rook woke. Over her stood Lucanis, his eyes were panicked.

“Rook, we have a problem.”

[karinamay]

pathos - chapter 7 is up!

Pairing: Lucanis/Rook de Riva AU: modern, ISU Grand Prix of Figure Skating Rating: explicit (for eventual smut)

Summary:

Rook has been skating with Viago for as long as she remembers, so when a nasty fall takes him off the ice for the foreseeable future, she figures that’s the end of her career as well. Viago has other plans for his little sister.  Meanwhile, Lucanis sees an opportunity to finally leave the sport altogether when Illario steals his partner away from him, leaving him alone just months shy of the new season. Retiring isn’t quite as easy as he’d hoped though, with Caterina Dellamorte as his coach.  Rook and Lucanis find each other in a reluctant alliance in the race to first place. But can that gold medal really buy off Rook’s guilt? And does Lucanis really want to quit skating when he’s finally finding his joy for the sport again? 

Read chapter 7 on AO3 (In which Rook and Lucanis celebrate their win, and Viago also has a night.)

[100jewels-between-teeth]

Info•Links

Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi ○ AO3 ○ Masterlist ○ BlueSky ○ Requests ~~•~~ Requests: Open ~~•~~

Disclaimers: All fics are OC or fem!reader unless specified in fic or request. What I write: long running, oneshot, slow burn, romance, smut, alphabet (sfw/nsfw), character requests, "how *insert character here* would ~~"

I will not write incest, a/b/o, daddy kink

Please do not repost my stories

Characters I write

Dragon Age: Solas, Lucanis Dellamorte, Emmrich Volkarin

Baldurs Gate 3: Astarion Ancunin, Enver Gortash

Ongoing Works • Spotlight

𝕯𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝕬𝖌𝖊: ~~•~~

𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊-𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓

An Hour Found (Lucanis Dellamorte x f!Rook de Riva) **ongoing**

𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑯𝑶𝑻𝑺

You. Only You (Lucanis Dellamorte x f!Rook de Riva) **completed oneshot**

Have you lost your touch? (Lucanis Dellamorte x f!Rook de Riva) **completed oneshot**

Andoral's Breath (Illario Dellamorte & f!Rook de Riva) **completed 18+ oneshot**

You're (Both) Really Here (Lucanis Dellamorte x f!Rook de Riva) **completed 18+ oneshot**

NSFW Alphabet: Lucanis Dellamorte **Headcanon List**

ദ𝒶𝓁𝒹𝓊𝓇𝓈 Ꮆ𝒶𝓉𝑒 3: ~~•~~

𝑴𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊-𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓

Become as Gods (Enver Gortash x Dark Urge) **ongoing**

[elvhendis]

Where The Storm Rests (5836 words) by elvhendis Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Illario Dellamorte/Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook Characters: Rook (Dragon Age), Illario Dellamorte, Lucanis Dellamorte, Viago de Riva Additional Tags: Female Rook (Dragon Age), Antivan Crow Rook (Dragon Age), Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Angst, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Redemption Summary: After the defeat of the Gods, Moira "Rook" de Riva seemed to have it all. With First Talon Lucanis Dellamorte at her side, her reputation with the Crows restored, and celebrated as the hero of the Veilguard, she should have been her happy ending. But in the aftermath, Moira soon finds herself struggling, and her relationship with Lucanis begins to unravel. When a contract forces her to work alongside Illario Dellamorte — of all people — everything changes.

[bitethedemon]

Daggers, Poison, and Shiny Things (Lucanis x Reader x Illario): Chapter 1

Next Chapter ->

Link to this fic on AO3

Tags: Slow burn, De Riva Reader, Eventual Smut, Messy Love Triangles

Fic summary: You lost everything in Rivain: your family, your home, and your hopes of ever becoming a seer. Treviso offered you revenge, but you were not prepared for the loneliness you would find amongst the Crows. The busiest assassin in Antiva became your only friend. That is, until he died and left you alone to pick up the pieces of yourself and his devastated cousin.

Imagine then, that your dead old flame shows up after a year, very much alive, with a very loud demon at his side and a hot new boss, while you have to explain that you are now dating his cousin. Don't you just hate it when that happens?

(A really messy Lucanis/Named!Reader/Illario love triangle set in Treviso. Lucanis/Rook isn't the main relationship, but reader is jealous as fuck about them)

You had been called River amongst the Crows for so long that you had almost forgotten your real name. It had been a stupid joke from when you were just a fledgling that had stuck. ‘The Rivaini de Riva’ had at some point turned into ‘River de Riva’, and that became who you were. Viago would always say that you were just as unruly as your namesake too.

Viago had found you in a sanctuary for the poor in Treviso five years ago.

…well…

That was the official story you had been ordered to tell the others and especially Teia. The real story was that he found you in a whorehouse. You were barely a human being by the time he found you. You had spent months in captivity by the Antaam.

They had burned down your village, killed everyone, and taken everything from you. They brought you with them to Treviso, but they were unsure what to do with you. It was bad luck to kill a seer, though the same superstition had not bothered them when they killed your grandmother, your mother, and all of your sisters.

However, you were not going to point out the flaws in their logic or tell them that you never got to finish your training. You needed to stay alive so you could get your revenge.

You used your time wisely. The elders of your village had always praised you for being observant, and by the gods you were going to mentally note down every word your captors said, how they said them, were they went, when they came to your cell, when they left, when they took a shit. Everything.

Viago kept an eye on you in the meantime and when they gave you over to the whorehouse, he swept in and presented revenge to you on a silver platter. The information you gave over to the Crows resulted in the downfall of the camp that had taken you. You became a de Riva that same day.

The Antivan Crows had not forgotten that the organization had roots stemming from the Chantry though. It was a tough pill for a lot of the Crows to swallow. They looked at you and saw a savage witch that spoke to demons and let spirits possess her. You did not fit in.

Even worse, you were utter shit with a dagger, much to the dismay of Viago. You were hopeless as a fledgling. Viago even hired mages to teach you more ‘appropriate’ magic, such as the way of the Spellblades, but with no luck.

You were no good at following orders either, having never been used to taking orders from a man because of the matriarchal society in Rivain. It was driving Viago up the wall. The two of you were constantly fighting and it was a wonder that he did not give up on you entirely.

He stopped your training after you had learned the mere basics. Instead, you took to poison-making. That was what you found out that you were good at, so you were left to do just that. You liked that better anyway. You were left to do what you were good at, and Viago did not get grey hair prematurely. Everyone was happy.

Except most of the other Crows, of course. They still kept their distance from you, though it mattered less when you were free to keep mostly to yourself. You had your own little laboratory to study and make poisons for everyone else in.

That was how you met Lucanis.

Lucanis was barely ever around. Being the most expensive assassin the Crows had to offer, he was always busy. You had never even met him until he was one day standing beside you in your laboratory. You had jumped at his presence and almost dropped a vial of wyvern poison on the floor.

“Three vials of Quiet Death, please,” he said politely. “If you’re not busy, of course. I can wait.”

You had blinked at him in confusion. No one ever came into your space except Viago.

“I’m…sorry…who are you?” you asked.

“Oh, forgive me,” he said and bowed his head slightly. “Lucanis Dellamorte. I have a difficult time keeping track of who I have met and not.”

“Oh,” you said quietly and looked him over. “You’re…yeah. I’m River. Sorry. Usually people go through Viago, instead of coming in here…”

“Why?” he asked plainly without a shred of judgment in his voice. “Quiet Death is a simple poison, no?”

Because they all hate me, so Viago hides me away here.

“Because…” you began. You had no answer that didn’t sound pathetic, so you changed the subject. “We are out of Deathroot, unfortunately, but I can make you something else.”

You began looking through the supplies.

“Do you have a weight estimate on your targets?”

He thought for a moment before giving surprisingly specific estimates. It was great to hear someone who knew what they were doing. If you had a gold coin for each time you had heard ‘small’, ‘average’, or ‘big’ as a weight estimate, you would have been a rich woman. Every question you asked was given a detailed answer by him.

He watched you closely as you were working, as if trying to figure out what you were doing.

“What are you making?” he asked in a curious tone.

“It’s uh…a mix of things,” you admitted. “It’s a Rivaini recipe, but I’m improvising a bit since I don’t have all the ingredients. Don’t worry though. It will work.”

“Oh, are you the Rivaini that Viago keeps talking about?”

You gave a tight smile and a small nod.

“That’s me,” you mumbled.

“Your name is River de Riva?” he asked with an amused smile that belied image of the serious master assassin that she had heard so much about. “He is going insane, you know? I have heard him describe you with many colorful phrases.”

“He does that,” you mumbled and carefully dripped the toxin into the vial you were working on.

“He says you can’t fight, but it seems you are good at this,” Lucanis said and watched the careful movements of your hands. “Did he teach you?”

“Well, first of all,” you protested slightly and put a lid on the vial to shake it. “I can fight…just not in any way that he finds acceptable. Secondly, no, poison-making was a part of my training back in my village. Viago just showed me which ones the Crows specifically use, since he doesn’t like me using the Rivaini ones that work perfectly fine. Which is why I never made you this.”

You handed him the first vial.

“Understood,” he said with a smile.

You began shaking the next one and then shook your head.

“Sorry for ranting,” you said. “I rarely get the opportunity.”

“It’s fine,” he said and studied the liquid in the vial. “You promise me that this will work?”

“It will.”

You handed him another vial and shook the last one.

“You said you received training before joining us,” he said. “As what?”

You froze for a second. The conversation was going so well, and this man seemed so nice, and now you were going to ruin it. You were sure of it. You sighed quietly.

“As a seer,” you replied reluctantly. “Though I never finished my training.”

“A seer?” he asked. “Interesting. Why did you stop?”

You look over his face for any trace of judgment. You found none. It took you by surprise.

“I didn’t.”

His brow furrowed ever so slightly at your reply. He didn’t understand. You handed him the last vial.

“My home was destroyed, and my family were killed by the Antaam,” you explained, trying your hardest to not to sound like a sad, pathetic mess. “Seer training can take almost a lifetime, and it’s taught by the women of your family. I am the only one left, so I will never finish my studies…”

His dark eyes softened when he heard, as if the words had hurt him to hear. There was some recognition of pain in his eyes, and you would only understand much later where it came from. He bowed his head slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

He mumbled his thanks for the poisons and promptly left the laboratory. You mentally hit yourself over the head for the entire day for opening up in that way to him.

A couple of days later you found a history book on Rivaini seers on the table in the laboratory when you came in in the morning. It would not help you finish your training, but you appreciated the thought more than anything.

That was the beginning of your relationship with him. You quickly learned that Lucanis was a crow in the literal sense: he left gifts and shiny things. That was his love language. He was not good at talking about his own feelings, though he did not mind talking about yours when the need arose. Lucanis did everything for you to not feel alone.

Half of the things he brought you, you had no idea how he even got his hands on. He would not tell you either. He always brushed away your gratitude. In the beginning it was mostly gifts that he insisted that he had simply stumbled upon. Later, the gifts became more personal. He even learned to cook Rivaini food just for you, which he would bring when he visited.

You adored him. It was hard not to, even though you knew he was simply being nice and that him being a Dellamorte meant that anything beyond friendship was no more than a naïve dream. Family was more important than anything to Lucanis, and he would be damned if you did not feel like you belonged to one, even though he seemed to be the only willing member for a while.

Eventually, more and more of the Crows started accepting you, simply because Lucanis did. You were introduced properly to Illario as well. You had always seen Illario as a rude bastard, but because of his cousin’s interest in you, he began warming up to you too. Illario eventually began flirting despite Lucanis’ interest in you. Or perhaps because of Lucanis’ interest, you realized later.

Either way, Lucanis was not fond of the situation, but he never said anything other than a few friendly warnings to you about how Illario treats women. Lucanis obviously cared and at the end of his life it only became even more obvious.

There had been an event at Villa Dellamorte that someone of your rank would never have attended had it not been because you were friends with Caterina’s grandson. Lucanis, Illario, and you sneaked off to the wine cellar sometime during the evening. At the end of the night, Illario and you were drunk and Lucanis was tipsy too.

You only remembered the night in fragments. You know that Illario flirted relentlessly with you that evening. You didn’t want Illario, but in your drunken stupor, perhaps you reciprocated. You weren’t sure. You only remembered that Lucanis was uncomfortable, torn between not wanting to be there and not trusting Illario enough to leave you alone with him.

You vaguely remembered Illario chuckling into your ear and then feeling his lips on your neck. It was when his hand ran up your thigh that you remembered sobering up and flinching slightly.

“I think I should get you home, River,” Lucanis had said and promptly gotten up from his chair.

You felt Illario huff against your neck before leaving a small bite there. You moved away from his touch.

“Why?” Illario asked and turned his head to look at Lucanis. “We are just having fun.”

“Illario…” Lucanis said firmly.

“She doesn’t want to go home, do you, River?” Illario said and put his arm over your shoulders. “Just a little seer possessed by spirits,” he joked with a smile and looked at Lucanis. “If you are tired, you can go. I will be sure she gets home safe.”

Lucanis looked directly at you.

“Do you want to go home?”

You nodded and got up. You stumbled slightly and Lucanis offered an arm for you to lean on. You did not even have to look back to see the hateful look Illario gave him. You could practically feel the tension in the air.

“You always get what you want, don’t you, Lucanis?” Illario said with disdain. “As if your intentions are any purer than mine.”

Then Illario mumbled something in Antivan that you did not quite catch, but Lucanis certainly did. There came a low growl of anger from him, and he led you to the staircase up and out of the wine cellar before turning to Illario.

“Go upstairs,” he said to you. “I will be with you in a moment.”

You stumbled up the stairs. The second you closed the door you could hear them arguing loudly in what was no doubt very colorful language. You had never heard Lucanis like that before.

When he came up and started to lead you home, he was deadly quiet for the longest time. It made you slightly nervous and you weren’t quite sure what to say.

“Are you..mad?” you asked, slightly slurring the words.

“Yes,” he answered curtly.

Another long pause of silence.

“At…me?”

“No, River,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “Not at you. At Illario. He acts like a child sometimes.”

You nodded and looked at his face as the two of you walked, trying to figure out what he was thinking. You often did without much luck. He noticed you staring and gave you a gentle smile.

“Not far now,” he said.

You kept walking. When you got to your house, you gave him the key. You could barely look straight. He unlocked the door for you to enter. When you saw the staircase up to your room, you gave a deep sigh. Lucanis took the hint and helped you up to your room.

“I didn’t mean to, you know,” you mumbled. “For that to happen, I mean. I don’t—”

Lucanis quickly caught you before you fell backwards down the stairs. He mumbled something in Antivan and held you by your waist from behind like a parent trying to teach a child to walk.

“I don’t even like Illario,” you said, continuing your drunken babbling. “I should have done something…”

“It’s not your fault,” he said and helped you up the final steps.

He opened the door to your room and sat you down on your bed. You looked up at him.

“Thank you for getting me home,” you said. “And even bringing me in the first place. I’m sorry it became such a mess.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” he insisted and pulled the blanket on the bed aside for you to get in. “It’s nothing.”

“You always say that,” you protested. “It means the world to me. Everything you do. I need you to know that.”

He gave you a smile.

“You are drunk, River,” he said and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Can I trust that you won’t throw yourself down the stairs in the middle of the night?”

“I don’t want Illario,” you mumbled.

“You have already said that.”

“I want you.”

His eyes softened at your drunken admission. He looked over your face in almost comical confusion, as if it had not been the most obvious thing in the world that you liked him. His eyes flicked to your lips for a second and you leaned forward.

“No,” he said gently and put his hand on your shoulder to stop you. “No, no. None of that.”

Your heart sank and you must have looked like a beaten puppy to him. His rejection was a knife in your heart. You felt ridiculous for even thinking that might have been where things were going. He gently brushed his hand over your hair.

“Not like this,” he said gently. “Goodnight, River.”

He squeezed your shoulder and left.

You had kept on replaying that night over and over in your head. The mental hangover had been insane. It did not help that you did not hear from him for about a week after. When he finally came, it was early in the morning, and he sneaked up on you in your laboratory. You weren’t sure what to say when you saw him.

You tried to say something, to get any word out of your mouth, but without any luck. You became even more speechless when he walked right up to you.

“I have been thinking,” he said. “Since last time.”

At least five excuses were already at the tip of your tongue, waiting to spill out in a jumbled mess.

“Did you mean it?” he asked gently.

The excuses died on your tongue before they could ever make it out. You couldn’t lie. Not to him. You swallowed hard and nodded, readying yourself for another rejection. It never came.

Instead, he looked at you with those warm eyes of his and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

You froze completely for a long moment. When he broke the kiss, you finally snapped back into reality and leaned in to kiss him again properly. Your heart hammered in your chest. You felt truly alive for the first time since you arrived in Treviso.

It was only a week later that he died.

You were inconsolable. To have everything taken from you, just to be given a sliver of light in your life and then have it be taken away again. The only other person you could talk to who would understand was Illario, who was trying his hardest to drink himself to death. You and Illario found an odd solace in each other during that time.

Though even when you started dating him, it did not fill the hole in your heart of losing Lucanis.

In the evenings you would sneak off to read all the books Lucanis’ had given you on seer magic. You learned to contact spirits, but you could not find the one spirit that you wanted to talk to. Needed to talk to.

This obsession only made you feel even worse. You were Illario’s now, but even then, you were still obsessed with the man who he had been forced to compete with his entire life. Even in death, Illario lived in Lucanis’ shadow. The guilt kept you up some nights, but you could just not let him go. There was no closure.

It had been over a year now.

You were hunched over a tome on seer family lines in the laboratory, when you really should have been working instead. You kept reading the books he had given you. You weren’t sure why. Perhaps, you simply felt as if it was a way to honor him.

“River,” you heard softly from behind you.

You quickly shut the book closed and stashed it under a shelf. You fiddled with some equipment, so it looked like you had been working.

“What do you need, Illario?” you asked.

“River,” the voice called again.

It sounded odd. As if he was sick or something. The tone was all wrong. He sounded like Lucanis, you realized.

You felt a hand on being laid softly on your shoulder and you turned around. You turned white as a sheet and time seemed to stop.

You clasped your hands over your mouth and your legs gave in. You slid down to the floor and looked up at him. You couldn’t breathe. You frantically reached out to touch his leg to check if he was solid or just a figment of your imagination, and then you sobbed.

He crouched down and you clung to him.

“I thought—”

“I know,” Lucanis said and squeezed your arm.

As you were crying your eyes out, a grating, hissing voice flowed through your ears all of a sudden.

“Smells like earth. Poison roots and wyvern spit.”

Your eyes darted up and widened. Behind Lucanis stood a copy of him with grey skin and eyes that glowed purple. You knew immediately what that was. It smiled at you.

“Seer!” the demon said with excitement. “She sees. Hears…”

Your mouth fell slightly agape. Lucanis looked at you.

“You can see him?” he asked urgently.

“By the gods, Lucanis…” you mumbled quietly and looked into his eyes. “Who did this to you?”

“Help us. Now,” the demon said.

[annanuna-arts]

Well...

I was working and got distracted into making this... lightly inspired by fic I wrote about them ;-;

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 18: Slow Like Honey

“Why are we going back to the house?” she demanded in front of the kitchen doors. ”Do you think I changed clothes just for fun?”  Lucanis snaked a hand into his pocket to retrieve a key.  “I assure you, you made your impression on that room. You don’t need to torment yourself in a crowd any longer.”  “Do you know how long it took to get into this dress?” He considered her for a moment, eyes sweeping up and down her figure. In a slight stoop, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.  “If you want help taking it off, you only have to ask.”  A chill ran down her spine, and she found herself unable to come up with a disarming retort. She was usually the one unnerving him.  “Fiammetta, would you…”  He turned the key in the lock, holding the door open for her,  “…like to join me in my room tonight?"

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: No one from House Dellamorte kneels...with exceptions.

Word count: 3.9k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! This chapter contains SMUT all CAPS. Warnings for: PiV, oral sex, fingering, inexperienced sex (if you squint because Lucanis can fake it until he makes it) Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“I’ve been looking for you.” 

Lucanis’ hands found her waist just as she stumbled on the final stair at the sound of his voice. Rook blinked in surprise, holding onto his shoulders for balance. 

“It’s these marble floors you Dellamortes love so much.” She grumbled, adjusting her gown around her ankles. 

“Wood creaks too much underfoot, not to mention the way it stains…” he trailed off and arched a brow as he studied her attire. 

“You changed clothes.”

“You haven’t.” She said, observing the dried blood on his perfectly tailored cape. “Are you okay, Lucanis? It seems a little soon to be celebrating something that came at the heel of your cousin’s betrayal. I’m still surprised you spared him. Or that Spite let you.”

“That wasn’t mercy. Illario will never live this down. There’s nowhere he could go to outrun being the traitor Crow, brought down in front of everyone.” He shook his head. “I am fine. I will deal with my cousin later.”

As he spoke, Rook caught sight of several lingering glares from around the room. It was common to be leered at by fellow Crows, but she’d become accustomed to a very particular stare for most of her life. Whether they loathed her or envied her, the faces were all the same: narrowed eyes, hardened scowls, folded arms. 

“Are we Crows or Vultures?” She muttered, “If looks could kill, I’d be dead a hundred times over.”

“Don’t worry about the stares.” Lucanis nodded at a few unfamiliar faces in the crowd. “Nobody would dare make a move after you brought Illario to his knees like that.”

“Some whispers can be as deadly as a thousand cuts.” Rook said, moving to the edge of the room where she wouldn’t have to watch her back. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

Lucanis followed, frowning. “Have I offended you?”

“No, I’m sorry.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I shouldn’t take this out on you. It just…gets to me sometimes. You’re a Dellamorte. You get jealous looks, but they come with respect. If another man cut you down, he’d say you were an honorable opponent.”

“The De Riva house is just as honorable-”

“Do you know how it was, for Viago and I? The things people said about our mothers? Two women from poor households chasing notable De Riva men around, trapping them with babies? At least my father married my mother. Viago’s mother did not have it so well. The comments made about him in passing alone…to him…” 

“I remember some things..as a child.”

“I have always had a tainted reputation. When I was young, when my parents had repaired their social standing, people were good. But then my mother died, and my father left the Crows…by the time I returned to the public eye, I was under Viago’s wing. He demanded respect, and I had it by proxy. But when I blew that operation, and then abandoned Treviso, I looked like a deserter. Just like my father.” 

“You took a contract. You are no deserter.”

“I moved against a member of house Dellamorte in his own home tonight.”

“On my behalf-”

“Yes. And I have the ear of the new First Talon I helped rise to power. ” Rook said, angling her head towards a group of sneering young women on their left. “To them, I’m an opportunist.” 

“I think the gossip may be about me.” Lucanis grinned and leaned in close. “See the one in the middle? I declined an invitation to her bed just before you came down that staircase.

Rook admonished herself for the prick of jealousy stinging her skin. Lucanis Dellamorte did not belong to her. And as First Talon, it was unsurprising that every eligible Crow in the room would want to be on his arm.  

“Do you get those kinds of invitations often?” She asked, attempting to sound impassive. 

“Only when I bother to show my face in public. I’ve never been interested.” He replied casually, “You can’t tell me it’s not the same for you?”

“I think Viago’s scowling keeps most potential suitors away…”

“Perhaps it’s a good thing your cousin is so busy keeping my cousin in line, then?”

Lucanis nodded toward the doors, smiling.

“Shall we make a discreet exit?”

“This will surely fix my reputation problem.” Rook muttered. “Are you sure you should leave? They’re celebrating you.”

“I have other plans for celebrating this evening.” He said as he escorted her to the gardens. “Come. Escape prying eyes and get some air with me.”

While he held open an ornate side door for her to step through, he made certain they weren’t being followed before ducking out after her.

“So. First Talon. Does that mean you’ll be leaving us?” Rook asked, wandering towards an easement overlooking the water. 

“No. We have a contract.” Lucanis joined her, bracing his palms on the railing. “Besides. She may have stepped down, but there’s no stopping Caterina from giving all the orders.”

“Right.” she pursed her lips and lowered her gaze. “I could be crossing a line here, but…you never wanted to be First Talon, did you? Why don’t you tell Caterina no?”

“You are crossing a line, but I’d never consider you a trespasser. My secrets are your secrets.” 

“Are you going to answer my question, then?”

He glanced at the opera house out of the corner of his eye.

“Later. This is a dangerous conversation to be had in Caterina’s garden.”

Rook nodded, watching the gondolas in the distance rock atop the current underneath. Lucanis eased himself onto his elbows, stretching his legs long behind him as the wind tousled his hair.

“So, what were you and my grandmother discussing?” He asked, staring at his hands. 

“We just sat in silence and watched you brood from the window.”

“Mierda. Must I suffer both of you?”

“Why suffer me at all? You’ve just been promoted far over my head.”

Lucanis scoffed. “I think you forget I’m the one in your service.”

“Right. Until your contract is over.” Rook huffed, her breath rising in the cold.

“You’ll have me for as long as I can put off the Crows.” Lucanis pushed himself up straight, removing his cloak and draping it over her shoulders. “Perhaps I could convince you to return here with me when I can’t put them off any longer.” 

Rook drew the cloak tighter around herself, suppressing a shiver. 

“I’m not sure…I left with Varric to hunt the Dread Wolf. When it’s all over, I’m not sure what-”

Lucanis reached for her chin, delicately tilting it towards him. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself. Regardless of your answer, I don’t need it today.” 

He released her and stepped back with a wink. 

“Just think about it, mm?”

Rook forced a smile as he offered his hand, allowing him to lead her toward the main villa. She dropped her cheek to his shoulder as they moved through the gardens, the grass swiping at the hem of her dress.

“Why are we going back to the house?” she demanded in front of the kitchen doors. ”Do you think I changed clothes just for fun?” 

Lucanis snaked a hand into his pocket to retrieve a key. 

“I assure you, you made your impression on that room. You don’t need to torment yourself in a crowd any longer.” 

“Do you know how long it took to get into this dress?”

He considered her for a moment, eyes sweeping up and down her figure. In a slight stoop, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“If you want help taking it off, you only have to ask.” 

A chill ran down her spine, and she found herself unable to come up with a disarming retort. She was usually the one unnerving him. 

“Fiammetta, would you…” 

He turned the key in the lock, holding the door open for her, 

“…like to join me in my room?” 

Lucanis’ apprehension was palpable, but he pulled enough confidence from within himself to charm her with the flirtatious mask he’d been trying on. It could have been the rapport growing between them, or shared trauma, or Illario becoming a thorn in both their sides, or even leftover adrenaline from earlier in the evening…whatever lingered between them, she was tired of wondering how far it could go. Tonight, she fully intended to find out. 

“Yes.” 

She stepped through the threshold into the villa. The moment she was inside, his hand settled on the small of her back, touch firm even through the thick fabric of his cloak. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her as he guided her through the foyer and up the stairs. Rook must have walked this path a thousand times, but now, everything appeared new, hazy. Like she was seeing things for the first time, through fresh eyes. 

A few of the household staff were scrubbing the floors where they’d disposed of the Venatori earlier. And she averted her gaze, flustered, Lucanis quickly pulled her down a secluded hallway to his chambers, shutting and locking the door behind them. 

Not one for flair, Lucanis’ room was plain, unlike Caterina’s. It mirrored his grandmother’s only in layout: a fireplace on the far wall next to the door leading to a private bath, a desk beneath one window, and a wardrobe stationed across from it. A king sized bed with a large canopy occupied the east wall, the sheen of the dark sheets catching in the moonlight that filtered in through the curtains. 

“Just as I left it.” He said, leaving her in the doorway and crouching before the fireplace, arranging wood in the hearth. 

Rook explored the perimeter as he retrieved something from his pocket to use as kindling. His desk was neatly arranged, stacked correspondence well over a year old on one side, while blank pages and ink sat at the ready on the other. Lucanis hadn’t returned to this place since before the Venatori had taken him, yet he acted as if he’d never been away. 

“Is it strange, being back here?”

He huffed bitterly, striking a match on the mantle and bringing it to an edge of a piece of parchment. “The Ossuary was stranger.” 

“This might be the only room in this house I’ve never visited.” Rook mused, running a hand over the duvet. Orlesian silk. Of course. Nicer than the guest suite. 

Lucanis waited for the flaming paper to catch the oak logs before rising from his crouch and crossing the room. 

“You’re always welcome here.” He said in a voice that carried the heaviness of longing and a faint tremor of nervousness. His hands glided along the cape he’d lent her, silently asking permission to remove it. Rook dipped her chin, and he took it off and hung it up in the wardrobe. He lingered there, staring at the ground as he unbuttoned his vest.

“I’d enjoy your company this evening. In whatever capacity you’d find most appealing.” He said, slowly loosening his cravat. “But if this is too much for you, I will happily escort you to the guest room…”

He undressed down to his trousers and undershirt, unlacing his boots and setting them beside the wardrobe. Eyes locked on him as he turned towards her, Rook removed her heels, tossing them aside. They clattered against the hardwood floor, the only sound other than the crackle of the fire. 

From his breast pocket, Lucanis retrieved a small butterfly knife and, with a swift flick of his wrist, freed the blade. 

“Would you like some help with that dress?”

”No cutting!” She threw out a hand in protest. “This is on loan.” 

His nose twitched with amusement, soft adoration gleaming in his eyes. 

“No cutting.” He echoed, setting the knife on the windowsill and stepping behind her. His fingers brushed hers, shooing them away as he untied the gown’s back. Rook stood, unmoving, as he worked. 

“It’s been a long time for me, Lucanis. Since I-“

“I’m not worried about that.” He tugged the corset’s final ribbon loose. “Would you like a change of clothes? I can try to find you something more comfortable.”

The dress relaxed around Rook’s waist, and she spared a look over her shoulder, meeting Lucanis’ eyes as she let the gown pool at her feet. She’d chosen to forgo a bustier underneath, and stood before him only in her underwear, leaving little to the imagination. 

It seemed to work in her favor. 

“This is fine.” She said, stepping forward to loosen the top button of his shirt. 

Lucanis’ cheeks bore a slight hint of red as he averted his gaze. 

“I don’t do this, Rook.” He said hoarsely. 

Her fingers paused on the second clasp. “Do what?”

“I don’t get close. I don’t allow myself to feel…” 

She rocked forward on her toes, tugging him down by his collar and kissing him chastly. The tension in Lucanis’ shoulders disappeared, and he reached to cup her cheek in his palm as he pulled away. His head tilted to the side as he stared at her, looking like a man in complete agony. 

He looked like a man in love. 

“You are so beautiful.” His thumb traced the structure of her face with wonder. “People stare too often and do not speak it enough.”

Crooking his index finger under her chin, he brought her lips to ghost against his. 

“I think about you all the time, Fiammetta. To be with you in this way…it is a privilege.” 

He kissed her ardently, letting his hand slide to her jaw, thumb caressing her cheek. She gave in, hands roaming the back of his shirt, clutching in the fabric there as he held her by her elbows, guiding her gently backwards. The bed creaked  beneath their shared weight as he climbed on top of her, and Rook blindly fumbled with the buttons of his shirt again. Lucanis’ fingers met hers to assist, deftly pulling apart each clasp and sliding it off behind him. Without breaking the kiss, he crawled forward, pressing her deeper into the mattress. 

“If this is moving too fast-”

She shook her head, hair splayed around her on the sheets. “Maker, no, no. I just-”

“Perhaps I don’t have the resume of your previous lovers, but I promise-”

Rook touched a finger to his lips, cutting him off. 

“I’m not worried about that.” She said, echoing his words from earlier. 

He claimed her mouth with his own in a kiss messier, hungrier than the last. No longer filled with doubt or hesitation, he was exploring freely. Starved to touch her, and to be touched in return. 

Rook’s hands moved lower, palming at the seam where his arousal throbbed against his trousers, and Lucanis groaned. 

“Slow down, Rook.” He chuckled, sliding to the floor and staring up at her reverently.

“I want to take my time with you.”

This was the second occasion she’d brought a Dellamorte to their knees tonight. 

Slowly, he reached up the length of her legs before grasping her thighs, spreading them apart and tugging her closer, pressing a soft kiss over the front of her panties. One finger hooked under the hem, and he pulled them aside, running his thumb down her center. He hummed pleasantly at the slickness he found there.

“May I?” He asked under lowered eyelids. Speechless, she could only nod eagerly. 

With a smirk, he tugged her underwear down and abandoned them on the floor behind him. With a ragged breath, he dove between her thighs, dragging his tongue flat against her and drawing an exploratory, teasing line upward in one deliberate sweep.

Rook bucked her hips, whining desperately for contact, and he shifted his weight back with a wicked grin.

“Fiammetta…patience…” he grasped her roughly under the ribcage and pushed her against the pillows as he joined her on the bed. “I want this to be good for you.”

Settled on his stomach, he spread her before him once again, hands sliding down to secure her in place. His tongue briefly dipped inside of her, drawing up towards her clit and working it expertly in circles with his tongue. Soft grunts and moans from Lucanis reverberated through her as his fingers dug into her thighs. Rook held her breath, hands searching to weave through his long, dark locks as she squeezed her eyes shut. He groaned with approval as she tugged his hair at the roots, and she glanced down to find his gaze fixed on her face as his mouth worked against her, assessing her pleasure. Worshipping her. Something about the sight made her even more frantic to touch him, to be touched by him. 

He withdrew, staring at her naked form appreciatively before planting a kiss on each inner thigh. Curiosity, he inserted his middle finger inside of her, mouth slightly parted in a taunting half smirk as she writhed in response, spewing nonsense phrases between moans, begging for him to use his mouth on her again.

“That’s it…” he murmured, inserting a second finger, obliging the demand of her hips and drawing his tongue to the most sensitive part of her clit, lingering there until he provoked a telltale whimper that encouraged him to keep his focus upon that particular spot. 

Rook yanked a pillow from beside her, biting into the silk to muffle her urge to scream his name. The staff in the hall would already be spreading rumors by morning. She wasn’t adding fuel to the fire. If Viago caught wind that they’d snuck off together, he’d kill them both. Maybe even personally. 

Lucanis tracked her every movement from below, his free hand abandoning her thigh to squeeze the curve of her waist, dragging down over her stomach, fingers digging into the soft flesh there as Rook’s belly coiled tightly with a telltale burn. 

She sank into the sensation, chasing her orgasm over the edge until a cry caught in her throat, reduced to a muffled squeak of pleasure as she turned her head, burying her face in the pillow again. Lucanis remained between her legs, continuing at his set pace until her sex spasmed and pulsated with overstimulation. 

He swept his thumb across his lips, sitting on his heels.

“Do you always have such trouble keeping still, or am I special?” 

Rook pulled a pillow from behind her and threw it at his face. Lucanis deflected it and crawled over her, kissing her softly. She could taste herself on his tongue as the outline in his trousers throbbed against her thigh.

“You’re very good at that.” She panted.

“I’ve found in my line of work that enthusiasm is key to doing anything well.” He said smugly, “plus, Bellara has been loaning me some very intriguing novellas.” 

“Oh? Have you been studying them?”

“I know I said you were welcome to my secrets, but allow me to keep just a few, mm?”

He glanced across the room and rolled off the bed, unbuttoning his trousers hesitantly. Concerned by his distant stare, Rook took a pillow and hugged it to her chest, suddenly feeling overexposed. 

“Is something the matter?”

Lucanis swallowed, avoiding her gaze.

“So much of my life has been work, killing…I have not had time for entanglements or intimacy. Now that I’ve found it with you, I…” 

He drug a hand down his face, keeping a palm over his mouth as he let out an exasperated stream of air through his nose. 

“Mierda, look at you!” He tore his hand away, gesturing at her naked form. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“What you just did was a pretty good start.” 

Lucanis held her gaze for several beats of silence, unphased by her words, before releasing his hold on the waistband of his trousers, letting them fall to his thighs, all his intent there for her to see, hard and wanting. With a hungry kiss, she felt him brush against her thigh as he crawled over her. He reached down, pumping himself, the slickness gathered between her legs seeping onto his fingers.  

“Rook...” He let his head drop back as he entered her slowly.

Her breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulder blades as she adjusted to the size of him. She arched her back and rolled her hips against his, and Lucanis sucked in a sharp inhale through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Maker, Fiammetta! If you do that, I don’t know how long I can-”

The Demon of Vyrantium was begging. Whining her name. This might prove to be her most successful night as a Crow, yet. 

A strangled noise of pleasure escaped him as she kissed down the length of his clavicle. He thrust at a slow, controlled pace, arms trembling next to her. One hand sliding between their bodies, Rook drug her fingertips across his stomach, smirking as his abdomen twitched in response.

Lucanis gasped, pressing his forehead to her shoulder and choking out a litany of Antivan curses as he watched himself move against her. His thrusts became more disjointed, and how he maintained such an adoring demeanor while fucking her like this was a mystery. 

Rook moaned as he drove himself into her with more force. She leaned forward and nipped at his collarbone, keeping her mouth there and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise to admire the following morning. Lucanis’ knuckles turned white as his hands fisted in the sheets on either side of her.

With a desperate groan, he spilled himself inside of her, collapsing onto his elbows and weaving his fingers through her hair. He kept his lips pressed to hers through his orgasm, until he stilled, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he caught his breath. 

“Mierda.” He panted, pressing his face into the crook of her neck and shuddering with a low, contented chuckle. “You truly will be the death of me.”

“You think Spite could give you a good night’s sleep after that?” 

“He seems amenable to the idea,” He purred in her ear, his lips leaving a trail of goosebumps where they brushed her skin. “if you’re staying.” 

He carefully pulled out and collapsed at her side, their bodies sweaty and spent. Tracing his fingertips over the curve of her hip, his eyes seemed to quiver as he searched her face. 

“I believe I might fear this night slipping through my grasp more than a knife to the back.”

The brown of his irises warmed in the firelight, a comfort she longed to get lost in. Something gnawed at the base of her throat, leaving her insides hollow, and she shuddered.

“I’m scared.” she rasped suddenly.

Lucanis’ hold on her loosened. “Of me?”

“Of everything.” She whispered, “But…not you. Not like you think.”

The mattress dipped under his weight as he moved closer, snaking one arm under her waist and the other over her middle. He pulled her against his chest, burying his face in her neck. 

“Burn my contract. I’ll kill anyone you ask me to - god or man - if it keeps you safe.”

[amarmeme]

Chapter 10 is up. Illario/Rook and we're finally at the smut with feels. Lots of them.

[turidtorkilsdottir]

Illario Dellamorte's Eyebrows ✨

And maybe those cuts have inspired 4k Viago/Illario smut that will be published on AO3, soon. Maybe 😇

[tarasmom]

New Chapter Up!

Love Find your Brutal Way to Me (18154 words) by Fanofwhitehairedelves Chapters: 3/43 Fandom: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook/Spite Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, Rook (Dragon Age), Spite (Dragon Age), Solas (Dragon Age), Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Zevran Arainai, Caterina Dellamorte, Illario Dellamorte, Hawke (Dragon Age), Varric Tethras, Hero of Ferelden, Dragon Age: The Veilguard Ensemble, Dragon Age: The Veilguard Companions Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, canon typical torture, canon typical slavery, canon atypical undead, Abominations (Dragon Age), Demonic Possession, spirit and demon physics, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, extremely slow burn but eventually they get together, oghren is the first warden, POV Multiple, Angst and Hurt/Comfort Summary: Lucanis had waited for a chance at his freedom, but now that he's out he's chained by his responsibilities, family, and his personal demon. Rook wasn't prepared to become the leader; in fact, it was very low on her priority list. Both have been playing with powers, greater and ancient than they ever intended. Dealings with the Fade and Powerful Entities leave stains on your soul that cannot be banished and are made all the heavier and more vulnerable by the burdens that threaten to drown them. For Rook and Lucanis, the line between the Fade and Reality blurs, multiple powers vie for control over their souls and bodies. In finding each other, they may find the path to remaining themselves. Title from I Carrion (Hozier) Plan to update biweekly (even weeks)

[dellamortethelesser]

Fic Masterlist

Dragon Age (Series)

"Born Again in Blood" - A mostly canon-compliant take on the events of Dragon Age: Origins that follows the path of my Tabris warden; how he deals with the weight of responsibility while trying to figure out his own identity in the midst of a crisis. Picks up post-City Elf Origin. (Multiple relationships explored).

"endure what you deserve" - A series about my Antivan Crow oc, Andrea De Riva. Andrea is a mage and a spirit healer who has never had the chance to express what they want: until the opportunity arises to work with House Dellamorte. Canon Divergent but delves deep into Crow politics. (Illario Dellamorte/OC).

Dragon Age (One-Shots)

"sunsets and silhouettes" - Andrea De Riva recounts a fond memory with Illario Dellamorte, parsed among a myriad of others. (Illario Dellamorte/OC).

"wear me down it's not in my hands now" - Andrea De Riva is accused of conspiracy and treason by their fellow De Riva, Emil. Emil, Antivan Crow and Rook of the Veilguard, struggles to believe that someone he thought of as family could've had a hand in ruining the life of the man he loves. (Rook & OC).

"everything outside i love is melting" - Lucanis speaks to an old rival after Treviso is saved from the dragon attack. (Lucanis Dellamorte/OC).

Pathfinder (Series)

"everything in me, about me, lost" - Mathias Silanus goes to Kenabres in search of his wayward younger brother. What he finds is something so much more than he bargained for: a Crusade that takes him far away from everything he's ever known, and, more importantly, far from his brother. What he finds in the wake of himself might be enough to change his own life, even if he can't save everyone else. (Multiple relationships explored).

Pathfinder (One-Shots)

"you've got the wool over my eyes" - Adrigo Livianus is an ex-hellknight, now an antipaladin whose work and goals are tied closely to that of Isore Cygnarus. Unfortunately for him, his companion has been away on business, and there's no one to come to his aid when former friends, foes, and memories almost drag him away in chains. (OC/OC).

"sick among the pure" - A short fic that details the backstory of my pathfinder OC, Adrigo Livianus. In this fic we see how he handles the aftermath of an ambush that nearly cost him his life. (Gen)

Baldur's Gate 3 (Series)

"1,001 Years" - A collection of stories about my tiefling Piety, an Archfey pact bardlock who struggles to break himself free of their pact to the Prince of Frost. (Multiple relationships explored).

"i betray you like a man" - The Dark Urge -- a tiefling named Gabriel with no memory beyond a bruised ego and a honed instinct to kill & The Morningstar -- an aasimar named Bedivere whom has been locked away in a monastery for nigh on twenty years. Bound by inscrutable fate and the deeds of men who play at being gods, they are brought together after a fateful nautiloid crash upon the Sword Coast. From there, it is a race against the clock to uncover the cure for tadpoles that plague their company, and the truth of the bloody past that Gabriel has left trailing behind him. Whispers from dark urges plague his mind, while the earnest pleas of Lathander guide Bedivere's steps. Time and fate are both poised against them. (OC/OC)

Baldur's Gate 3 (One-Shots)

"memento mori" - Enver Gortash interrupts Adin'hrae--The Dark Urge--during a busy evening to make a request of him. Smut ensues, but it is not loving or warm. (NSFW)

"missing the mark" - Halcyon, the Dark Urge, is a very busy man as the High Primaster of Bhaal's church. Being on time for a meeting with his new ally, Enver Gortash, is a difficult task when everyone seems to be intent on stopping him from doing so. When he finally arrives, he wants to make a reverent display out of his associate. (NSFW)