#neve get behind me.

[butchvamp]

can we please acknowledge that the reason lucanis's romance with rook is the way that it is is not because of some secret nefarious plot to get him with neve and intentionally shaft the player, but rather just the fact that a lot of his content got cut and he went through multiple writers over years of what was already a very messy and chaotic development process. it’s just bad writing. why are we making shit up just to get mad at a fictional woman of color who is, again, fictional and does not have the agency to scheme and steal your man. can we please be serious

[wanderingknights]

once again I wish every “ugh Neve needs to leave Lucanis alone” a very me cago en ti y en tu madre puñeta!!!! Van a seguir con la misma mierda todos los días??? Sea tu vida, tú madre y tus jodios ancestros carajo ELLA NO ES REAL

[acrossthedrift]

Just kiss me so I know it's real.

[baekuras]

Started Dragon Age: The Veilguard today and omg how i've MISSED company banter

i may have only started like a month ago with the dragon age series overall, and i may only have played 2 and Inquisition(some) but in DA:I i've missed company banter so MUCH compared to 2 and I've got it back here and it fuels me

i dont even care about if the story will be a 10/10 or whatever, 2 wasn't a 10/10 and pretty rough in many places but I loved the companions so much and their bickering and banter and extra dialogue and stuff and I've missed it so much in DA:I i am just happy to be here i swear <3

[maiteo]

leãos penalty saved we’re never gonna hear the end of it😩

[filbert-weevil]

I will not be elaborating but the way some of you clowns have been talking about Neve is gonna make me start biting

[360iris]

Feeling as though Rook is secondary to Neve? You shouldn’t, not really at least because Rook is irreplaceable for the same reasons people are holding animosity towards Neve.

‘Neve gets him without doing any of the hard work.’ Rook is the only person alive who could even be able to. That’s the whole point.

Saving Minrathous results in the Inner Demons quest never happening.

Meaning an unhealed Lucanis never makes peace with Spite.

Meaning he goes on to enter a relationship with a woman (to no fault of her own) who could never, and would never, force him to face his fears and give him the unyielding encouragement needed to live without compartmentalizing every important thing to ever happen to him.

Without Rook completing that quest— Lucanis remains chained down by his debilitating fear of disappointing Caterina, the shame of being made into an abomination against his will, the guilt of being the one who got off easier than Neve and the pain and anger Illario’s betrayal brought onto him.

“Thoughts live here. Ideas. Feelings.” Disappointment. Shame. Guilt. Betrayal. All of which Lucanis felt were too big, too messy to face.

Solavellan is Rookanis’ foil. Except Rook is if Lavellan had succeeded in persuading Solas to face his regrets.

And what was the crux of the replacement Fade prison Solas crafted for the Evanuris? It was a prison built on regret, and the only way to leave would be to face them. Which Ghilan’nan and Elgar’nan would never be able to do.

Spite says “Lucanis is here. Behind locked doors. I can’t break through.” But Rook can.

In his mind’s eye, Lucanis makes Caterina, Harding, Neve and Illario his jailers of negative emotions in a prison of his own creation.

And in all that inner turmoil, his idea of Illario says, “Rook, you’re too good to be here.”

Rook isn’t one of his jailers, not because they don’t matter enough compared to the others, but because Lucanis’ thoughts, ideas and feelings for Rook are too good.

Rook opens doors, they’re not a jailer who throws away the key. In Lucanis and Spite’s eyes, Rook is the key. They are a liberator, a hero, the only one he’ll listen to.

Love, understanding, the unwavering promise of companionship (platonic or romantic) despite the risk to themselves sets Lucanis free.

I’ve seen people who are disappointed in his storyline complain that it feels as though ‘Rook strong arms him into a committed relationship’ that he somehow ‘feels obligated to indulge’ and engage in as a result of saving Treviso. I believe these claims just end up ignoring the really good diamonds in the rough we’re given in terms of Rookanis relationship development.

A romanced!Lucanis gives way to lines like “I don’t know what Rook sees in me. I’m happy to just be around them.”

And paralleling scenes like when Caterina chastises a kneeling Illario with “A Dellamorte never kneels.” Only for Lucanis to later walk over to a post-Fade trapped Rook and literally kneel at their feet like they’re the only deity he cares to worship like this is Take Me To Church by Hozier.

And what is Rookanis as a ship, if not Rook teaching him it’s okay to assert himself, which leads to Lucanis reclaiming his humanity through an act of love? Just saying. Given time, and love, he turns into a Gomez Addams sort of romantic figure.

If Rook were associated as any feeling to Lucanis then they’d be love. Affection. A state of understanding. Purpose? Freedom?

Better yet, Rook could be determination. After all, Rook’s defining characteristic is that they ‘just can’t seem to quit’— in the face of the man they care about saying ‘give up on me, i’m damaged goods’ why wouldn’t they win him over in the end?

[cybershock24601]

More Rook de Riva is Lucanis' annoying little sibling agenda but everyone's chilling in the kitchen waiting for diner and Lucanis goes to check something on the stove before coming back to the table. Lucanis takes one sip of his coffee, immediately spits it back out, and then shoots Rook the most annoyed look as he goes "Really?" Rook immediately starts cackling and goes "I just wanted to see if you'd notice!"

Neve asks, "oh, did you put salt in his coffee?" because that's a totally reasonable assumption to make and Lucanis replies with "Adder's Kiss actually" super casually as he gets up to dump out his coffee and make himself a new cup. Emmrich in a polite but clearly bewildered tone goes, "correct me if I am wrong, but that is a poison, yes?" With a casual shrug Rook says "yeah" and continues to sip their own drink like just admitting to putting poison in one of your friends drinks is a perfectly normal thing to do. And to Crows it is, not so much for everyone else.

Dead silence descends onto the room because why is Rook is poisoning people's drinks and why is Lucanis so casual about almost getting poisoned. Everyone's just looking back and forth between Rook and Lucanis until Taash finally breaks the quiet by saying what everyone else is thinking, "What the fuck?!"

The room then descends into chaos with Taash practically interrogating Rook because who slips poison in their friends drinks with Rook getting really defensive and going "Viago and I do this to each other all the time!" and Harding's going "What do you mean by that?!" because by now everyone knows Viago is practically Rook's older brother, what are they doing poisoning each other?? Bellara is very concerned and keeps asking Lucanis if he's okay and he's so confused because of course he is, its not like he hasn't developed an immunity to most poisons and besides Rook didn't even do much to try to disguise the taste so it's not like he actually drank any of it. Neve and Davrin are mostly just concerned because they didn't even see Rook move. Emmrich is the one who finally manages to calm things down because that man absolutely has a Teacher Voice to whip out whenever the team is getting too unruly.

The night ends with Rook and Lucanis agreeing not to start poisoning each other's drinks in the Crow equivalent of an escalating prank war because of the risk of people not immune to poison accidentally consuming it because it's not like everyone else can detect the subtle notes of poison and Lucanis and Rook thinking everyone is just being super weird and overreacting to this because this is just normal Crow behavior (in all honestly it probably isn't, it's just these two were raised by freaks named Caterina Dellamorte and Viago de Riva who needed to make sure they knew how to handle their poisons).

The rest of the team is left thinking that actually this is starting to explain a whole lot about what the fuck is Wrong with those two. I'm sure everyone is now having secret meetings behind the two Crows backs to figure out the best way to explain to them that These Are Not Normal Behaviors, You're Just Traumatized.

[amongemeraldclouds]

imgonnagetyouback

Mattheo Riddle should have known better than to break your heart. Now he was about to get everything he deserved.

Warning: fluff, angst but has a happy ending, no use of y/n. Has a subplot of you being a bet.

✿ Masterlist | TTPD Masterlist | 2.8k words

Mattheo Riddle should have known better than to break your heart. It was his fault, really, that the loud explosion from an innocent little box sprayed green glitter above him and across his dorm. He had it coming.

By the time you made it to the doorway, glitter rained down on Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo like a fairy tale gone wrong. One where the prince betrayed the princess so she had to redefine her happy ever after. Right now, it was revenge served with sparkles.

You watched as Mattheo coughed out glitter and it glistened as it fell. You couldn’t suppress the snicker that escaped your lips and his focus shot straight at you, eyes burning with rage. 

“Love the new look,” you grinned, “let me guess, inspired by fairies?”

Mattheo strode over to you, leaving a trail of glitter behind him. “If you love it so much, why don’t you come here and get glitter all over your—”

Enzo smacked the back of his head. Flecks of glitter fell from his head to his clothes at the motion like a shiny pepper shaker. Salazar, it was going to take weeks to clean it all out. “Language,” he warned Mattheo.

“I didn’t even say anything,” Mattheo shot back, glaring at Enzo.

You rolled your eyes. Once upon a time, you may have smiled at Enzo and seen him as a knight in shining armor. But that armor had long rusted since that cursed evening. He was just as guilty as Mattheo was.

“The only thing I need from any of you tossers is for karma to explode in your face,” you paused for effect. “Oh wait, it just did. I didn’t realize karma looked so shiny!” You waved at the air for emphasis then spun on your heel and cackled as you walked away. Perhaps you were never meant to be the princess in the fairy tale, but rather the evil witch. You could hardly care. Revenge felt good.

There was a spring to your step and excitement buzzed in your veins. It worked so much better than you thought! Fred and George would be so pleased to learn their prototype was a success. You were going to tip them extra when you returned to their store. After all, you were just getting started.  

A few weeks ago

It all ended one quiet evening. You approached Mattheo’s dorm to surprise him with a batch of freshly baked cookies, his favorite, when you overheard a conversation about a bet. You rolled your eyes, unable to hide the fond smile that lit up your face. There was always some type of mischief or another when it came to the boys.

You were no longer smiling when you heard your name, your hand frozen halfway to knocking on the door.

“…five weeks is a new record for you, who would have thought?” Enzo said.

“Are you sure you didn’t trick her into giving you some type of love potion?” Theo added.

You waited for your boyfriend to defend you, but instead he praised himself.

“And you tossers thought I couldn’t do it,” he huffed, “it was only too easy.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you kicked the door open, enraged. “Had your laugh? Thought this was fun?” You strode in, anger and hurt bubbling up from within you. You tore the container free and hurled warm cookies onto them, crumbs spraying in the air as they fell.

All eyes turned to you, wide and horrified. You weren’t supposed to find out. Mattheo opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out.

“It’s my turn then, we’ll see who has the last laugh,” you said, storming off as you finally let your tears rain down on your cheeks.

It was bad enough that you risked it all for Mattheo. You fell for his puppy dog eyes that you held for the first time when you chanced upon him at the Astronomy Tower. He was drunk on melancholy, his tongue loose from one too many shots of fire whiskey. You wanted nothing more than to wrap this precious boy before you with warmth and a kindness he never knew. He shared things with you that it seemed he didn’t tell anyone else.

He sought you out the next day to apologize and you assured him there was nothing to be sorry for. Still, he insisted on making it up to you by taking you out for a meal. It didn’t take long for one meal to turn into two and then more than you could count. Evenings spent in the Astronomy Tower or beneath cozy blankets. Weekend adventures and future plans. Gone.

You always knew love was a gamble. After all, there were so many ways to break one’s heart. But without taking risks, you’d never win the jackpot so you rolled the dice and traded your heart away. Only Mattheo bet on you with money to his friends. You were only a bet. Guess he didn’t have a heart to gamble with in the first place.

Now the storm raged within you, thunder clapping and rain pounding. Outside, crickets chirped in the still, quiet air as you walked off.

“Do you think the cookies on the floor are still edible?” Enzo asked, his voice fading by the second. You heard someone hit him playfully. “Ow!” He exclaimed.

Mattheo didn’t come after you.

Present

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” Pansy raised her eyebrow at you in your shared dorm. “Just the other night, you were drunk and very nearly went to Mattheo to—”

“Well now I’m sober,” you declared, not wanting to hear any more. Liquor, it seems, had a way of bringing out the truth and leading you down embarrassing paths. You cursed your thoughtless heart for still feeling longing, desire, love. Instead you reminded yourself of the consequences: ache, regret, sadness. You have had enough.

“I’m finally back to my senses thanks to your help. I swear, tie me next time to the bed if I ever do that again.”

“Kinky, I like it,” she waggled her eyebrows and you threw a pillow at her, joining her laughter. “Did Mattheo ever do that to you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied, trying to stay on topic. “The only thing I want to do to Mattheo now is hit him.”

She continued, “Sure, hit him with your lips and suffocate him with your—”

“I don’t even want to hear the end of your sentence!” You shot up and out of bed, nose crinkled and eyebrows drawn together. You tried your hardest to look disgusted even though she was correct and you hated yourself for it.

“Besides,” you said, addressing her initial question, “I already did! Let’s go see!”

“Efficient as always,” she shook her head, picking up her bag and following you to class.

You kept your evil cackle to yourself this time as you neared the classroom where you spotted Mattheo walking ahead, his brown curls now dyed in dark, forest green.

You matched his pace, walking beside him then turned to him, “green hair suits you, trying to be the new Slytherin mascot?”

He mirrored your grin, trying to tamp down his annoyance, “just showing off my house pride.”

You smirked and walked ahead, joining Pansy once more and laughing together. He may not admit it, but you noticed the clench in his jaw that only ever happened when he was annoyed. He may not have cared about what others thought of him, but it bothered him that you snuck up on him with hair dye in his shampoo and got him back.

“Stop looking at her with heart eyes!” Enzo exclaimed as he smacked the back of Mattheo’s head.

“I’m not. You’re looking at her with heart eyes and stop hitting me,” he said.

“Did the chemicals seep into your brain too?” Enzo shook his head.

“It’s not my fault a girl on a revenge mission is attractive,” Mattheo replied, unconsciously biting his lower lip.

“Just go and make up with her already or we won’t know peace,” Theo chimed in, brushing some of the lingering glitter off his robe for emphasis. “You clearly still like her.”

Mattheo’s eyebrows knit together as he considered it. He longed to apologize and he missed you, but he had been too ashamed. He thought perhaps by now, your revenge plans had quelled your anger. Turning it over in his head, he knew just how he could get you back.

You snuck into the potions room, still deciding whether to brew an itching potion or a hair fall potion for your next prank. Fred and George had taught you a few things you were excited to try. You were so focused on the ingredients that it took you a second to react to the lock that clicked behind you. You turned around, that wasn’t supposed to—

You took a step back in shock when you realized it was Mattheo who locked the door. 

“Is my hair really that hideous?” He asked, choking out a chuckle in all his green haired glory.

“Go do your mascot duties out there,” you pointed at the door, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“You sure I can’t instill some house pride in you?” He said suggestively and you hated the way your body still reacted to him, electric with anticipation.

“Riddle, I swear—” you began, pointing your wand out to him.

He held his hands up, “stop, wait! I’m here to apologize. I’m sorry. It started out as a bet, that evening in the Astronomy Tower, but then the lines blurred somewhere along the way. Salazar, I can’t even point out when you took over my world. Perhaps from the very start. You were not what I expected.”

You clapped slowly, interrupting him. It was one heck of a performance. 

“Please, you have to believe me,” he huffed desperately. “Use the Legilimency spell on me!”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” you shot back stubbornly though you couldn’t deny the curiosity that crept in your mind.

“If it will get you to believe me,” he said, calmer this time.

“I don’t want to, I can’t do that to you,” you whispered. You knew he was not comfortable with the spell. His father had used it on him one too many times, violating his privacy and sense of safety. For him to even offer it meant a lot. It was annoying that you still cared for him. 

“It’s okay” he assured you, wrapping both his hands around your hand that still held the wand, his eyes burning into yours. “I want you to take a look. It doesn’t have to change anything. If you still hate me afterwards, you can feed me laxatives or I’ll even shave my hair bald for you. Just see and then I’ll unlock the door.”

“Fine,” you sighed, giving in. At the very least you would get closure, which was more than you thought you could get. “But you will have to shave your head if I still hate you after this.”

“Anything for you,” he replied, “if you want, I’ll even shave my—”

“I don’t need to hear it!” You held your hand up, interrupting him.

He laughed wholeheartedly. Salazar, he missed you. “I was going to say my eyebrows, you perv,” he quipped.

You raised your wand in annoyance and cast the spell. You did not need him to be charming and ridiculous, it was calming the storm within you. You could not afford to hear him calling you ‘easy’ once again.

Bright light exploded around you as the spell took effect and images blurred past as you sifted through his memories.

It started that evening on the Astronomy Tower. He knew you went there every evening at a certain time and so he waited for you. He drank more than he should have, always pushing his boundaries. He meant to be charming and flirty, instead he found himself sharing pieces of his soul with you. With your kind smile and sincere eyes, you made it so easy for him.

He always thought it would send people running, but your feet were firmly planted on the floor and you leaned into him, each word he uttered was cradled in your warmth. You were a safe space he never knew could exist.

It was the spark that set his whole world ablaze with joy and desire. You saw him wake up the next day and his first string of thoughts were about you. He wondered if you slept well, what you dreamt of. Then he saw you across the hall, smiling with your friends and his mind went blank. When your face lit up, he felt warm and gooey inside, like his favorite cookies. You realized then they were his favorite not just because of its delicious flavor, but because eating them always reminded him of how he felt for you.

When he watched you walk the opposite direction, his breath caught in his throat. He watched the hemline of your skirt brush the back of your leg and he was disappointed with how long it was. He needed it higher. He wanted to drag you into an empty classroom and bend you over so—

“Okay, I don’t need to hear that! I get the picture,” you told him.

“Fine, fast forward to that night,” he urged you. You hesitated, but you had already gone this far so you did as he asked. Dread sank in the pit of your stomach.

There they were, from Mattheo’s point of view this time. The conversation replayed again, its sharp edges biting into your heart once more.

“And you tossers thought I couldn’t do it,” he huffed, “it was only too easy.” He wasn’t talking about you after all, not in the way you thought.

At that moment, you felt the warm, gooey sweetness in his chest once again. He thought it was so easy to be with you that five weeks felt like nothing. He wanted more, needed more time with you. He didn’t even want to take any money from the stupid bet. You were more than any reward he could ever get.

Then you stepped in and he watched cookies fly in the air before they fell on the ground. Your eyes were glazed over with shock and betrayal and he was too embarrassed to say anything. Shame and regret kept him rooted on the ground as he watched you stomp on a cookie as you exited.

You pulled back from his thoughts, zooming out and back into your body. You took a step back trying to balance yourself and Mattheo held a hand to your shoulder to steady you. “I really am sorry, I hope you know now.” He looked at you with his puppy dog eyes and it took everything within you to keep yourself from flinging your arms around him. Not yet.

“Now I know,” you echoed dryly. “Time for you to shave your head then you can leave me alone.”

His eyes widened a fraction before he caught himself, dejected. True to his word he turned back and took out the key, inserting it into the lock. He was about to leave his safe place for good. The warm, gooey feelings would soon grow cold and he would lose you. No. He stood up straighter and held his head high, turning to you.

“You know what? No, I’m not taking no for an answer. You can hate me all you want and I’ll shave my head. Do whatever ridiculous thing you plan in that evil, beautiful brain of yours but I’m staying and I’m fighting for you until you take me back.”

You smirked. “How do you feel about itching potions?”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “They’re annoying, but I’ll survive.” His eyes narrowed then, realization dawning on him. “Wait, does this mean you’ll take me back? Is that what you’re saying?” He asked hopefully.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you?” You raised an eyebrow.

His mouth widened to a grin. “No,” he quickly said before he ran and charged towards you, engulfing you in a hug. In his excitement, he lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You laughed at his eagerness. Perhaps there was a happy ending to this fairy tale after all.

The next day, you ignored the curious stares and hushed whispers that trailed you as you walked down the hallway. Let them talk. You strolled into the Great Hall, head held high.

Mattheo’s eyes widened when he saw you approach and you just smiled as you slid beside him on the seat he saved for you.

“You dyed your hair forest green like mine!” He exclaimed.

“Couldn’t let you have all the fun, huh?” You nudged him, lightly poking your elbow into his rib. 

His face lit up with a smile that could rival a hundred Lumos spells cast at the same time.

Mattheo sure was an idiot with his green hair and sparkly robe, but he was your idiot and now the entire school knew it too. You two may have looked ridiculous, but you’d do it together like everything else. Just two idiots in love.

✿ Masterlist | TTPD Masterlist

A/N: So glad I got over my writing slump and completed this two weeks since I started. Yay!

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*Grimmjow Smut*~

“One bed trope” & Rutting/breeding

The Quincy war had ended. Soul society had began rebuilding from the ruins, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Buildings had been rebuilt, the 13 divisions coming together in unity after the destruction and loss you all endured. The new head captain, previous captain of the 8th, Shunsui Kyoraku, had led the shinigami into the new world created. Along with the new found peace, soul society had gained some new recruits. One of them being the former Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

A brutally gruff man with a lethally short temper and a thirst for battle that rivalled that of Captain Kenpachi. After his efforts in support of the war and the glowing recommendations given by war hero Kisuke Urahara, he had been granted a place in the goeti 13 court guards.

Unfortunately, due to your inability to say no and your constant need to appease your superiors, you had been landed with the gruelling task of "teaching Grimmjow the ropes" so to speak. The arrancar had seemed just as disappointed by this match up as you were. Arms permanently crossed over his muscular chest, he had spent the majority of the past three days of your journey glaring at you. Which was preferable to the snide comments and rumbling growls he otherwise offered you.

You couldn't wait to make it back to the Seireitei, the last leg of your journey should have you arriving back by late morning tomorrow. You would suggest walking through the night to end the painful silence sooner, if not for the angry black clouds rolling closer at a rapid pace. The temperature had lowered considerably, your brisk walking thankfully warming you sufficiently. You pulled the map from your sash, eye brows furrowed as you came to a stop and tried to figure out how far away you were from the inn you had reserved for the night.

"how much longer?" your unwilling companion grumbled from behind you. Fighting the urge to throw the map at his head, you concentrated on the markings.. it's going to be at least another three hours of Mr. Sunshine's radiant personality.

"Are you deaf, woman?! "  Grimmjow growled, testing your patience "How much longer? It's going to rain soon" 

Folding the map back up, you took your time placing it securely in your sash as the winds picked up around you. The fact that you were waiting until you were finished before addressing the crude brute, was less about the efficiency of securing your map and more because you enjoyed making him wait. "About three hours Grimmjow. Four if you keep wasting time bitching" 

"I ain't bitching! It's gunna rain! " he roared at your retreating back, you started back on your journey, not waiting to see if he would follow

"aww, is the kitty scared of a little rain?" You unkindly teased over your shoulder. You heard the rumble deep in his chest, clearly about ready to snap

"I ain't scared of nothing!" such eloquent grammar the Espada exhibited. "Damn bitch, can't you feel the storm coming? Fucking weak shiningami" 

"Listen, Grimmjow, the longer you stand there arguing with me, the longer we'll be stuck in the storm you're so desperately trying to avoid "  you turn to face him, started a little by how he looked. He looked frenzied. Blue hair sticking out as though he had been running his fingers through it. His skin looked clammy and flushed, face had a dull pink tinge, unlike the brilliant red you had witnessed during a screaming rampage. His arms tensed at his sides, bulging biceps trembling minutely as his fists opened and closed in tight fists.

His eyes looked wild. The brilliant blue seemed faded with an animalistic sheen. Blown pupils darted around erratically, avoiding looking straight at you. He must really hate getting wet. The fight left you at the sight of him. Sighing, you offer an alternative, as much as he was getting on your last neves, it really wasn't in you to be intentionally cruel, "there's a trapper shack about fifteen minutes up the side road. It won't be as nice as the inn, but providing there's no one there we should be able to survive one night" 

He clenched his jaw, offering you a tight nod. Taking the hint, you resumed your leading, teetering off the main road to follow the dusty beaten path.

—————————————————

"you've got to be kidding me"

You weren't some materialistic princess, you could slum it with the best of them. Getting your hands dirty had never phased you. The state of the shack, however, was pushing it. The howling wind ripped through the barely held together shack, forcing its way through the rotting wooden slats. Every inch of the place was covered in a sheet of dust, the muddy floor held long forgotten footprints of past hunters. A sooty fire pit sat in the middle of the room, jagged rocks forming a wobbly circle, small hole in ten roof above to allow ventilation for the smoke.

There was a helpful pile of dried logs near the beaten door, clawing onto its hinges desperately. The one saving grace, as it had been pelting down with heavy rain the past ten minutes, the chance of you finding any dry wood outside was slim to absolutely fucking impossible. What made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, however, was the single bed pushed into the corner of the room. Thin blanket messily thrown over the questionably stained mattress, two pillows long since lost their plump plush. Two Tatami mats pushed against the opposite wall, probably stoping the wall from tumbling over.

"move" Grimmjow pushed his way into the shack, nudging your shoulder harshly. Shaking him self, not dissimilar to the way a dog would rid its fur of water. Grimmjow looked around the room, Unphased by the grimy appearance. He scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. "Not up to your standards princess? "  he sneered in your direction, foot kicking the rocks around the fire pit. "Afraid you'll break a nail?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage in his snappy remarks. Closing the door behind you, silently pleading with it to stay standing at least til morning, you reached down to grab a couple of different sized logs. Stacking them near the fire pit, you pulled off your backpack, digging through your preserves to find your flint and steel and a pouch of dry kindling.

Kneeling onto the cold ground, you arranged the kindling into a loose pile, striking the flint and steel sending sparks into the bundle. When glowing embers caught, you lifted the pile to your mouth, blowing steadily until a small flame licked to life. Satisfied you began placing twigs into a teepee, watching as they caught light. Silently to built up the pile until a controlled fire crackled in the middle of the room, giving off its roaring heat.

Grimmjow had leaned himself against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Legs crossed at the ankles, he had been staring at you, watching as you created fire.

"No thanks Grimmjow, I don't need any help. Thanks for asking"  You sarcastically remark. The answering scoff you received at least let you know sarcasm was something even hollows understood. Too tired to cook yourself a meal, you pulled out some jerky and a pre-made rice ball for your dinner. Grimmjow didn't need anything to eat. While, you discovered, he could eat human food, he could also be satisfied by chomping down on smaller hollows.

That was a sight you wouldn't forget in a hurry. The animalistic way he leaped at the hollows you had encountered earlier in the day. Sharp teeth ripping into the flesh of the howling beasts with a sadistic grin on his face. Grimmjow swallowing those mouthful's of hollow flesh was something else entirely.

Banning the memory from your mind so not to completely ruin your appetite, you moved to sit on the bed, trying not to think about what that stain was. Grimmjow hadn't moved from his space as far away from you as the cabin allowed. Mindlessly chewing at your food, your eyes started to wander. His fingers had gripped into his biceps, the indents pushed into the flesh looked painful. He kept shifting his weight between his feet, crossing and uncrossing his ankles.

Your chewing slowed as you regarded him. You were in from the rain, drying nicely from the heat provided by the fire. So why did he look just about ready to claw his own skin off? Perhaps he was dreading the sleeping arrangements as much as you were

"so" you started the awkward conversation after swallowing the last of your light meal. He tilted his chin into your general direction at your conversation starter "how are we doing this?"

He jerked his head fully to you then, eyes widened "we ain't doing anything" his husky voice rumbled. It was your turn to tilt you head, this time in confusion

"sleeping arrangements? There's only one bed" you emphasised the point by tapping the bed below you. You see the realisation dawn on his face before pushing it away with a sneer. You couldn't fathom what he could've been so worried about

"pfft, you take it, don't wanna hear your bitching all night if you had to sleep on the floor." Grimmjow moved to the tatami mats leaning against the wall, throwing them unceremoniously to the ground with a thud. You were pleased to see they weren't hiding a gaping hole in the wall. Grimmjow fell backwards onto the mat, crossing his arms under his head and stared at the wooden roof.

Not letting the comment slide, you picked up one sorry excuse for a pillow, throwing it harder than necessary to flop anticlimactically on Grimmjow's stomach. You received a growl for your efforts. Throwing a couple more robust logs on the fire to ensue heat for hopefully the whole night, you felt confident to change into your sleeping gown and not freeze to death. While it showed more skin than your regulation issued shinigami uniform and as much as you didn't relish in the thought of rolling about on that dirty mattress all night with more on show, you hated the confines of clothing while you slept. You would just have to scrub extra hard in your bath the next day.

Locating your gown in your backpack, you climbed under the covers to change, folding up your uniform neatly and laying it atop your bag. Though it would've been easier staying dry in a shower, you snuggled under the blanket trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The raging storm outside helped ease you into blissful unconsciousness, hoping that by morning the storm would've passed along with Grimmjows pissy mood

You wouldn't hold your breath though

——————————————————

When your eyes snapped open way too soon for it yet to be morning, you had first assumed it was the storm still raging outside that had woken you up. You remained staring at the wall, not wanting to risk waking Grimmjow, less you wanted to deal with his moody ass at being woken. The fire was still breathing, judging by the heat at your back. You listened to the usual sounds of the storm, rumbling thunder in the distance, they ruthlessly pelting rain hitting the roof, howling wind whipping through the trees. Yet sleep avoided you.

That's when you heard the shuffle of clothes rubbing together and a throaty grunt. You roll your eyes, of course the bastard moved around in his sleep. You tried to force yourself back to sleep, but the noises never stopped. You could hear his knuckles crack as they gripped the side of the tatami mat, puff of air escaping the spongy padding.

He squirmed around noisily, small grunts and husky grumbles accompanying his heavy breathing. You sigh loudly, the room stilling. A pregnant pause followed. Pleased with the silence you closed your eyes again, trying to drift off.

A chesty rumble and a thump that sounded suspiciously like a fist hitting the mat had you flipping over, leaning up on your elbow to glare at the Espada "Grimmjow, what the hell are you doing?" 

"Nothing". He tightly snapped at you, lacking the usual hostility. He stared at the roof, refusing to look at you "go back to fucking sleep" 

"I can't, with all your moving around and grunting."  You try not to sound condescending, but really, who could sleep through all that racket. "What's the problem? Are you cold or something? I could put another log on the fire..?"

"Its rutting season" he growled out deeply, voice so thick and sticky he almost choked on the words... Rutting season? Oh. Oh  That'll explain the frenzied look he sported earlier. You were at a loss of what to say, what could you say? Shinigami didn't go through anything so animalistic

"can't you just..? Ignore it?" You ask, ignorance showing

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" He snapped at you, patience clearly wearing thin

"making a fucking racket" you grumble back "can't you.. step outside.. take care of it?"

He snorted at your suggestion, legs moving around on the mat "damn shinigami, don't know nothing." 

"we don't have rutting seasons"  you reminded him softly

"It don't fucking work like that. Hands don't work. I gotta knot in a pussy" the crass wording had you sucking in a sharp breath. Not quite the civilised conversation you were anticipating, yet the next words sent a rush of heat rushing through you hotter than the fire itself "so unless your offering, shut the fuck up an go back to sleep"

Offering? To have sex with him? What an absurd notion. And yet... Grimmjow was good looking.. in a demented "I'll murder you and everyone you love" kinda way. Tall and with enough rippling muscles for three men. A cocky grin with surprisingly intriguingly sharp canines. While usually spitting insults, his voice was deep and sultry. And his hair, such an unusual colour, yet it fit him so perfectly.

It had been a while since you had indulged in that cardinal desire, your throbbing cunt attested to that. You could help him out.. if only to finally get some peace and quiet enough to go back to sleep.

"Alright, I'll help you" your voice sounded strained to your own ears. Grimmjow sat up suddenly at your words, staring at you as though you sprouted another head

"the fuck you just say?" Utter bewilderment filled his voice, lilt of eagerness filtering through

"I said, alright"it pained you to admit it, twice. "I won't be able to get any damn sleep until you stop moving around" 

Grimmjow pounced across the room, literally leaping through the air and landing easily on your bed. Feverish hands ripped off your blanket, eliciting a squeak of surprise from you at his eager haste. Rough large hands ripped your gown from your body, jagged line separating the cloth covering your body. You glared at him, for ruining your favourite sleeping gown. He payed not attention, throwing the scraps of ruined material over the side of the bed.

He had a crazed look in his eyes, taken over with the animalistic urge to mate. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he removed his own top, you noticed how he didn't rip his clothing. Surging forward Grimmjow buried his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your scent filled his nostrils, eliciting a rumbling deep from his chest. You cry out as he bit down brutally, sharp teeth sinking into the flesh where neck joins shoulder.

His hips bucked against your covered core at the tang of blood seeping through to his tongue, deep rumbling escaping around the mouthful of neck he had in his mouth, reminding you of the purr of a cat. A big fucking cat. Mercifully releasing you, he swiped a strong, hot lick against the wound, cleaning up the drops of blood pulled out. Seemingly finished marking you, Grimmjow pushed away his pants, large cock bobbing heavily between you. Your eyes went wide at the sight, throat drying painfully.

He was huge. While similar to that of humans, it was bigger than any you had previously seen, by quite a few generous inches. And thick, you wouldn't be able to close your hand around the veiny girth to touch your fingertips. You couldn't tell if the weight appearing in your lower stomach was from dread or lustful excitement at the knowledge it would soon be inside you.

Ignoring your inner turmoil, Grimmjow ripped your panties off you next, throwing the scrap of material to join the rest. Angry retort died on your lips as he surged forward, attempting to thrust into you

"wait!" You nearly scream, holding him back by planting your hands firmly on his chest, twisting your leg to cover your opening. He gave you a warning growl, hand gripping your thigh roughly to move it back from denying him access, crazed instincts telling him to mount. The punch to the jaw you delivered brought him back to his senses some what

"what?" He asked through clenched teeth, finally making eye contact

"you can't just force it in" you said pointedly, glancing down at the angry purpling head of his dick. He gave you a questioning look, head tilted to the side in a feline manor. "You got to get me wet first"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, crawling down your body he crouched down to be eye level with your core, before spitting loudly straight onto your cunt. You felt the hot liquid hit you, and recoiled at the grotesque action. Your mind almost short circuited when he tried again to mount you. You planted a foot on his chest this time, pushing him back.

"fucking now what?!" he almost roared at you, getting frustrated at being denied what had already been offered.

"not like that ,you brute!"

"fucking woman! You said wet, that's wet!" He let out his frustration by pushing against your leg planted on his chest

"We aren't naturally wet inside, Grimmjow. We need to be stimulated by foreplay,". You spoke to him slowly, like teaching a child "you need to use your fingers or tongue to stretch me, your dick will rip me otherwise " you begrudgingly add, he definitely didn't need the ego boost of knowing he was very well endowed. He caught the meaning anyway, cocky smirk making a reappearance on his face. "Try and make me actually want to fuck you, for fucks sake" you add exasperated, flopping back onto the pillow.

This time you allowed him to remove your foot from his chest, letting it fall to the side, opening up your thighs. His wet, warm tongue suddenly tasted you in a steady lick up the slit of your cunt. You sigh, letting your eyes close to savour the feelings, letting yourself relax enough to enjoy it. He repeated the action, delving in between your folds a little more with every lick.

Grimmjow let his mouth salivate at the new taste, his animalistic side relishing in the musky taste of a mate. Letting his spit slide down onto his tongue to leave on your silky hot folds. A breathy moan escapes you, shooting straight to Grimmjows throbbing, neglected cock. He gave an answering growl, plunging his tongue deep into your depths, patience slowly but surly hitting their limits.

He needed to start rutting, and soon. Your own natural lubricant began coating his tongue, setting his tastebuds alight with the heady taste. Pushing his face in deeper, chasing the slightly salty tang, his nose brushed against something that made you jerk below him with a loud moan. He pulled out of you, lower face dampened by his sloppy work, in search for what made you call out.

At the top of your dusky pink cunt was a small protruding bump, inquisitively, he brushed his finger against it. Another moan ripped from you, back arching from the bed, thrusting your hips up encouragingly. Grimmjow rubbed against it again, getting the same reaction.

Not letting up on his thumb pressing against the little button that had you bucking like a bitch in heat, Grimmjow shoved two fingers inside you roughly. He could feel your tight inner walls sucking around his fingers, clenching them tightly. Thrusting them in and out quickly, gaining hardly any give in your vice like grip, Grimmjow sped up his movements, practically punching his knuckles either side of his submerged digits into the soft flesh on your pussy.

You writhed beneath him, pleasure outshining the pain he inflicted on your sensitive mound. A steady stream of appreciative moans left your lips, turning into keening groans as he added another finger, stretching you out in preparation for his even larger phallic. Lost in a sea of contradictory feelings, you didn't feel your orgasm approaching until it crashed over you, pulling you deeper into a spiral of blind bliss.

Grimmjow felt the sudden gush of liquid on his fingers, getting pushed out messily by his thrusting fingers. First he sneered, assuming you had disgustingly wet yourself, pissing all over his hand. Until his sensitive nose picked up the scent, the same heady musk he had tasted from within you. Mouth watering, wanting to taste the tangy substance once more, Grimmjow removed his soaked fingers, going straight to the source to drink down the glistening wetness.

Lust filled fog lifted slowly from your mind, feeling Grimmjow greedily lap at your spasming Cunt, you tried to push his head away. Grimmjow possessively growled into you, gripping your thighs to stop you denying him his reward.

"Grimmjow" you called to him to no prevail, he ignored your voice, lapping at you hungrily. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply. Like a cornered beast he pinned you to the bed by your wrists, staring challengingly into your eyes with a predatory look. His mouth was wet with your arousal, you could smell your scent on his chin as he tumbled above you in warning.

"Grimmjow," you tried again, submissively lowering your tone, whispering meekly. "You need to leave it wet, so you don't hurt me with your cock"

The mention of his cock seemed to remind him of the aching member hanging heavily between you. Releasing you with a huff, Grimmjow fisted himself, groaning at the full tug he gave himself. Lining up with your centre, he pushed in swiftly, burying himself as deep as he could go, stopping only when the engorged head of his dick bumped against your cervix. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, painfully stretching you beyond your limits. Your inner walls protested at the too big invasion, squeezing painfully around it.

Tears stung your eyes, mouth gasping to pull air into your lungs. It was too big, too much to handle. Grimmjow didn't allow you any time to adjust to the size, rutting his hips into you feverishly, cardinal desire to breed consuming his mind. You felt the burn as his rigid cock dragged against your walls, pushing against them unbending. Small sparks of pleasure tried to push through the overwhelming stretch, Grimmjow hitting every sweet spot mercilessly with each frenzied thrust. You concluded he was too big, too thick to miss, accuracy wouldn't be needed.

Grimmjows chest rumbled with a constant primal gravel. Pupils blown wide, the Panthera focused his gaze on the vivid bite mark on your neck. Powerful hips thrusted into you cruelly, chasing after his cardinal need to procreate. Dipping his head, Grimmjows lips found the swell of your breast, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth to clamp his teeth into. The cry you gave only spurred him on to leave his mark. The jagged tenth of his broken hollow mask scraped against your nipple, spike of pleasure burst through the pain.

At your whimper Grimmjow released you, deranged look in his eyes. You flinched when he lowered himself to your face, tilting your head to the side as a strained moan ripped from your throat. Half expecting another bite, your eyes closed, bracing for the new flash of pain. Instead of the sharp bite, you felt his tongue drag slowly up your cheek. The saltiness from your sweat flavoured your skin, Grimmjow hungrily sought out the delicacy, licking at your face protectively.

Rutting instincts being satisfied, the demented haze lessened enough for Grimmjow to filter through is own thoughts and wants. Seeing you panting beneath him, squirming in pleasure, face screwed up in painful bliss was a beautiful sight. But it wasn't what he wanted, what the alpha demanded of his willing mate.

The rough withdrawal of his dick had you gasping at the reprieve, legs fell flat to the bed heavily,muscles twitching in protest. The gap in the brutal penetration was short lived, however, when Grimmjow used his superior strength to throw you to your stomach. Equilibrium fighting to right itself, two large hands gripped painfully into your hips, forcibly dragging you to your knees. Round ass held in the air, glistening cunt on full display for his viewing pleasure.

The Espada slid his hand up the length of your back, cupping the back of your neck to push your face into the mattress. Pushing your hair away from the most delicate part of your neck, portraying the Vulnerable submission the alpha so desperately seeked. He thrusted his dick back into your dripping heat, claiming his mate.

Your back arched at the reappearance of his cock stretching you sinfully. Groaning with the wet slapping of skin meeting skin. Fingers dug into the fleshy part of your ass, kneeling the swell in his palms. Grimmjow had his eyes fixated on the way your ass rippled with every thrust, his cock disappearing into your hot, tight hole. Your wetness spraying out with every plunge, wetting his lower stomach and thighs.

The smell was intoxicating, addicting. Breathing deep he could almost taste the musky aroma, eliciting a feline hiss. His hands spread your ass cheeks revealing your puckered hole. Spitting loudly he watched as his saliva trickled down the valley between your cheeks, sliding over that hidden hole. Using a finger to gather the moisture, not wanting you to bitch at him again, the arrancar pushed his way through the tight ring of muscles.

You yelped at the sudden intrusion, spent body easily accepting the new addition as you laid heavily into the mattress. His brutal thrusts hadn't let up through his curious exploration, steadily pushing you further towards the most natural of highs. Grimmjows chest swelled with pride of having calmed both of your holes, muscles squeezing devilishly tight.

The heat encasing his cock was driving him wild, with feral intensity, the instincts to breed filled him. Slipping from your ass, he gripped your hips bruisingly, snapping you back onto his rutting cock brutally. The pleasure filled scream you have had his balls tightening. He could feel the knot forming in the middle of his dick, getting caressed by the tight velvety walls with each drag of his impressive length

"m'gunna fill you full of pups" he growled out, panting harshly "gunna fill your cunt with my seed" 

You scream out in pleasure, the knot forming inside you pushing against your already straining walls, rubbing roughly against your pleasure spot hidden away in your depths. "Your mine" the growled word's emphasised with increasingly powerful thrusts. A hand left your hip, wrapping it around your throat to pull you back into a painful bend. "My mate" 

Sharp teeth sunk into the back of your neck, latching on viciously. Hot pants forced through his teeth, heating up the bruising skin trapped in their hold. A bright light burst from behind your eyes as you descended into euphoric darkness. Violent tremors raked through your body as you convulsed around the dick forcing you into the most powerful orgasm you had ever endured. The strong hold on your neck the only thing keeping you from spiralling into the darkness threatening to pull you under.

The impossibly tight, the cunt surrounding his cock clamped down. Grimmjow erratically rutted into you in short bursts, knot no longer allowing him to pull out from your sopping channel. The knot snapped in a painful burst, seed rushing from him in blinding pleasure. The Panthera released the hold his teeth had on your neck to yowl loudly into the room. Hips stilling as his seed erupted inside you, filling you with his hot cum.

The lustful instinct to mate melted away at his release. Control over his mind filtered back slowly, allowing him to see the state he had left you in. Angry teethmarks sat proudly at the back of your neck. Slumped forward in his hold, your sweat soaked body hung limply, raggedly sucking in desperate breaths.

Laying himself across your back, Grimmjow Manoeuvered you both to lay down on the small bed on your sides. Knotted cock still buried deep inside you, Grimmjow moulded himself to your back, wrapping his arm around you protectively. On the brink of sleep you squirm, wincing at the pinch in your abused pussy caused by the pull of the knot keeping him in.

"stay still" his gruff voice held a semblance care, large hand soothing over the bruises left by his fingers on your hips "y'gotta let it go down or it'll rip ya apart"

Your body pushed to the brink of what it could take started to shiver, muscles periodically twitching as they relaxed. Thinking you were cold, Grimmjow grabbed the sorry excuse for a blanket, draping it over you. Head buried in your neck, Grimmjow soothed the marks left there with his tongue, methodically licking over the wounds, soothing the dull throbbing.

Arm wrapped protectively around you, slowly deflating cock nestled deeply within you, you fell into unconsciousness with Grimmjows cool tongue lapping at your skin. Satisfied you were cleaned up enough, Grimmjow tightened the hold he had on you, savouring the feel of his cock being warmed by your hole, full to the brim with his seed. Burying his head in your hair, letting your smell fill his senses as he joined you in sleep he so desperately needed, whispering a single word as he succumbed to the pull

"mine"

[waterunleashed]

I’m so but, I’m so tired of hearing people complain that they are locked out of romancing Lucanis because they didn’t save his city. You left him to face a dragon ALONE. Lucanis does not trust anyone. He is used to people using him, betraying him, hurting him. He is not used to someone genuinely caring for him.

When you get him out of the Ossuary and express care and concern he starts letting his guard down. He sees how you treat everyone in the lighthouse and starts to thing MAYBE, maybe they care. Maybe he can trust you and let you in.

Lucanis is also a man that continually says that a crow never abandons a contract. Basically, your word is your bond. Then a dragon comes to destroy his home, he tells you that innocents are going to be blighted. And he runs to save them and fight for your city. Tell me that going to the other city isn’t a betrayal. Tell me that he didn’t look behind him a hundred times hoping to see you and curse himself for being stupid enough to hope every single time you weren’t there.

Soft, sad words after aren’t going to fix that you decided to leave him to face a dragon alone. Not when this man eventually would’ve fallen for you so deeply that he would try and stab a cloud for you. That he would kill an entire pantheon of Gods just to fall asleep in your arms. You can’t regain that kind of trust after abandoning him.

And for those upset that he is then in a romance with Neve. He wasn’t expecting her to come help his city. He knew that she would try to save hers. He also wasn’t falling for her before that. So there was no broken trust to work around after Treviso is blighted. There is just someone coming to help him pick up the pieces. And as Neve says their relationship is slow and cautious. They aren’t any steamier than that between Rook and Lucanis. However, Neve is a more aggressive flirt than Rook is. When they first meet Neve tells Lucanis he’s hot so it doesn’t surprise me that she is outwardly flirty with him.

Anyways, that’s my rant. I just chose to save Minrathis in my second playthrough to see the other storyline and I HATE it. I will never abandon my crow in another playthrough again. Seeing Lucanis sitting on that bench tore my heart out.

[hyperions-light]

That'll Get You Killed: Harding and Neve in the Ossuary

Second post in a series about the Ossuary. Read this one first.

Harding's Room

Rook enters the second occupied room, which has Harding. You can see her plants overflowing into the prison, as well as her books, chair and sleeping bag. Harding's notes are:

Which all center around the fear that he will be unable to contain Spite, and that his friends will be hurt as a result. Interestingly, the third one also indicates that he doesn't want Spite to be hurt, either. When you speak to Harding, she has some very fascinating dialogue:

Don't worry Rook. I've got my eye on the prisoner.

and then

Rook, are you sure Spite isn't tricking you? What if there's no Lucanis- just the demon?

Lucanis is afraid that his friends still see him as his captors did; a dangerous thing to be contained-- and, moreover, he's afraid they're right. That maybe there is none of him left, after the Ossuary; that all there is is Spite.

Rook refutes this idea directly, saying Lucanis is not a demon. Harding then says:

Look around. This isn't the mind of a human being, let alone an Antivan Crow.

Lucanis is afraid that he is too broken by his experience to be useful, or even to be human anymore (this fucks me up guys... brb crying). Rook can refute this by affirming that Lucanis is still himself, even after what happened; that everyone has mental scars, and that it is Lucanis' choices which define him; or that the state of Lucanis' mind is irrelevant, and that Rook is trusting him to save the world. For the first two Harding will warn Rook that their attitude could get them killed. For all of them, she warns them to be careful and disappears.

Neve's Room

Neve's room is based on the one where you fought Calivan originally, signalling her place as one of the two biggest obstacles to Lucanis leaving the Ossuary. Her notes are on her desk (behind Rook when you enter), on the clue board behind her, and near the exit in a pile of books. They say:

All of this text surrounds Lucanis' fear that he's out of control, that he's become a monster that can't help anyone; that he's completely lost himself (this fr almost made me cry ;-; the fear and pain and helplessness here is staggering ;;;;-;;;;). When you talk to Neve, she asks if Rook should be there, since it's dangerous. The following description of Neve by Spite is the only difference I can find between the romanced/non-romanced versions of this quest (besides flirt dialogue); he'll say something different if the Nevecanis romance is active, but essentially he identifies Neve as someone strange/new but intriguing. Neve then says:

You know how he is, Rook. Even if you open the door, Lucanis won't walk through it. This is where he wants to be.

Reflecting his fear that even if people try to help him, he won't be able to accept it; that in some way he is doing this to himself, and that he'll choose it over something better. Rook and the others HAVE reached out to him before this; they have offered their help sincerely, and he has rejected it because he was ignoring his own suffering, and because he's afraid he's incapable of accepting it. Neve says this because she has been one of the most kind, and still, Lucanis has refused her help, to this point.

Rook has a choice here where they can say either that Lucanis always has options that they are here to show him, that they are not going anywhere until they help, or that Lucanis is losing himself in masks, and Rook can handle the real him. Neve then says:

You really think you can help him? You're such a sap, Rook.

Which is Lucanis reflecting the fear that he is not actually worth helping, and that the people around him are wasting their time trying to do so. Rook then says she needs to let them try, and Neve disappears.

We've again hit the limit of how long I'm willing to stretch dashes, so the (hopefully) final post will be here.

[in-death-sacrifice]

Pleasant Suprise's

Lucanis Dellamorte x GN!Rook

(Antivan Crow Rogue)

Warning: Violence, Slight Angst, Hurt/Comfort (not proof read)

Summary: After a year of thinking he's dead, it's time to save him and bring him back only he's different this time

The mention of his name had made your blood run cold as the group were fangirling over the infamous assassin made you uneasy. That part of your past had to be buried after you joined Varric, using his work as a base to move forward from him. Treviso was never really the same once he disappeared the coffee shop visits with Illario didn't hit the same as the ones you did with him. You held onto hope that anything could happen that he still could have been okay despite everything. I mean the sky was ripped open in the south by a blighted self made god a few years ago...literally anything could happen.

You sat on the edge of Varric's bed as he rambled on about whatever information he could offer or the book he was thinking about writing as he healed. "You alright kid?" His rough voice startled you, breaking you out of his trance. You blinked at him, trying to get your brain to catch up with the conversation. Varric only chuckled, groaning lightly as he adjusted himself against the cushions. "Yeah...no I'm good, I think" you rambled looking over to the dwarf, your chin now resting on your hands. "Spit it out kid"

The sigh that left your lips was comical, earning another laugh from your companion. How could you just explain the situation? You weren't going to leave him in the prison they were keeping him in you knew that much, but so much had happened since then. You spent a lot of time mourning him, wishing there was something you could have done that made him listen to you when you asked him to stay away from the boat. " 'The Demon of Vyrantium'...I know him from the Crows" you began. Only to be cut off by another laugh, "I assumed that much kid, you are also a Crow or have you forgotten"

You scoffed, but his charm was working, the words felt easier to release in the peacefulness between the two of you. The trust and bond you had created with Dwarf often felt like it ran deep than hired help. "We have a past, we grew up together. Trained together. He was more than a friend" you said. Varric didn't chuckle this time, his eyes scanning for any signs of discomfort that you might have. "He's meant to be dead. I mourned him with his family- he was ambushed in the middle of the ocean before I could say anything"

Varric smiled sadly as you, his perception was something you were grateful for as you could see him reading between the lines of your admission. "I don't know if I'm ready to see a ghost" you whispered. Varric's heart broke looking at you, someone he's always admired for finding the humor in situations, keeping moral high and helping anyone they can. He's seen you walk through the streets handing out money to the unfortunates or having to wait for you to catch up as you pet one of the many cats that roamed the streets. It was like he was seeing a different person. "You've stopped a ritual, fought and entire group of antamnn 20 vs 1. You'll be able to handle it."

"It's not about handling it, it's just...weird. I worry he thought that I wasn't coming for him. Or worse...he's actually dead, and I'd have been given this slither of hope for it to be ripped away from me" you admitted. He didn't reply to that, he had no idea. Varric had seen so much, lost so much over the years. You knew he was understanding, listening to you but we didn't have a choice. If was alive you all needed him no matter what. Your footsteps echoed as you began to leave the room only pausing after Varric spoke your name. "You've got this kid...no matter what". You didn't reply, only giving the man a small nod before the door shut behind you.

The Venatori that greeted you was a welcome distraction as you and Neve passed through the compound with ease. "It's going to take weeks to get the sand out of my boots" you whispered under your breath as you began to break the crystals that held the barriers in your way only to then be met with yet another small group of Venatori. You were part way through peace talking, not that it was going to make a difference your hands itched to sink your blade for revenge - for either taking him away from you or killing him. The sound of feathers was loud as they whipped around the Venatori in a purple flash, you recognized the fight pattern your body freezing on the spot as you observed him work. He was there, right in front of you. You watched as the purple wings disappeared before he turned, holding your breath until your eyes fell upon his face.

Your legs wobbled as you finally made eye contact desperately trying to hold in the sob that threatened to be released. He has changed, you could tell. His body is leaner than you remembered, his eyes and skin having a slight purple glow...and that all without mentioning the new wings that he created moments ago. "L-Lucanis?" You whispered stepping forward. His eyes flashed with recognition his own body stiffening as they scanned your face taking in every detail. The new scars that littered your skin, the way your hair fell now. "Is it really you?" He whispered, his hands tightening around his daggers as he watched you creep closer. He had dreamed of being with you again, the feeling of your comfort as your hand held him. Your smell of that expensive perfume you insisted on buying at the markets. You nodded smiling brightly as you were finally in reach with him. His arms enveloped you first, his head buried in your neck as he took in your scent. "You're really alive?" You whispered. You felt him nod against you, his arms tightening not wanting to let you go. "Let's get you out of here"

The fire crackled as you sat in the common room, the flames dancing heating up the space. The stiffness in your body was the need to go through the door on your right and talk to him, say all those words you wanted to tell him when he returned from that trip a year ago. But he had changed, he wasn't your Lucanis anymore. Demon or no demon you weren't going to ignore him, you just needed to follow his lead. You didn't react when the door opened, or when his footsteps approached the other chair. The two of you stared into the flames finding comfort in the silence. "I never thought I would see you again...nor did I expect you to be the one to rescue me finally" he spoke. You almost felt hurt at the accusation from him about how much you cared. "If I knew where you were a year ago, that bitch would have been long dead" you spoke, venom lacing your tone. He looked at you again, spotting the bags under your eyes, the weight of expectations that now laid heavy against you with the looming threats on Thedas. "I'm happy to have back, there's no one else I'd want by my side during this than you Lucanis"

"Even with spite?"

You smiled at him sadly. The guilt and fear over his possession is laced throughout his features. "Even with spite" you whispered. His hand touched yours as he laced his fingers through yours, he felt himself needing the connection. "Does spite like coffee?" You questioned enjoying his touch. Lucanis chuckled, squeezing your hand. "Yes we can still go on our coffee dates"

[brittscafe]

𝐁𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡

Pairing: Aizen Sosuke x reader

Summary: Aizen Sosuke and reader take a bath together.

Request: Taking a bath with Aizen

A/n: Heyyy! I really enjoyed writing something soft and calm for Aizen, I hope you enjoy! <3

Content: brief nudity, mostly sfw.

Ko-fi link (anything is appreciated <3)

You step into the warm room filled with steam and candles light up around the bathroom. The room is scented with vanilla and honey, a scent that pleases your nostrils.

Aizen is in front of you, bare back and muscles popping out. He turns off the faucet to the hot water, tub full of it and foamy bubbles. You quietly close the door behind you as Aizen turns around and faces you.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his chest and abs out for view. He clears his throat and your eyes shoot up to his own.

"Sorry," you grumble out as he walks over to you. A strand of his dark hair hangs down in front of his face and his lips twitch into a slight smile for just a moment.

He grabs onto your shoulders, a white robe covering your bare body underneath.

"No need to be sorry for staring, y/n. After all, I know you can't help yourself," he comments teasingly and your face heats up.

"Hey, that is not true," you huff out as he slowly takes off your robe off your shoulder. The loose robe drops onto the ground, leaving you vulnerable and bare in front of Aizen.

Nothing he hasn't seen before, you remind yourself. Aizen scans over your body, admiring it and slightly smirking. You scoff, catching himself staring and you walk past him.

You step into the bath, one foot diving into the hot water. The tub is deep as the water goes up to your knee. Aizen undresses himself as you allow the hot water to swallow the rest of your body.

Your muscles instantly relax and you let out a pleasant sigh, eyelids closing. You relish in the hot water that seems to get all the kinks out from your sore body.

The loud splashing of the water causes you to open your eyes, curious. Aizen sinks down into the water, holding onto the sides of the tub to ease himself in, muscles throbbing and flexing as he does so.

"This is nice," you hum out. Aizen nods his head, inching closer to you and reaching out his hand. You lift your hand up from the water, grabbing onto his.

Aizen pulls you closer, eyes glancing down at your lips. He desires them so much. He loves the way your lips feel against his, they feel so right.

"You're staring," you notice, smiling.

Aizen lets out a deep chuckle that rumbles in his throat as his hand grasps onto your jaw. His fingers are slick and wet, but still firmly grabbing your face and bringing you closer.

His dark eyes gaze deeply into yours, making your heart skip a quick beat.

"Is that so?" he asks, voice deep and sending a chill down your spine.

You nod your head and Aizen dips his head down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. The kiss is soft, warm, and wet. The kiss is so perfect and loving.

You wrap your arms around his neck, wet bodies pressing together.

Your lips melt together, not getting enough of each other just quite yet. You open your lips slightly, allowing for Aizen to slide his tongue inside your mouth.

You groan into his mouth as his free hand grabs onto your waist, squeezing the flesh. You giggle against his lips as his fingers tickle your skin.

You slowly pull away, nose bushing against his. You grab onto the bar of soap sitting in the corner and dip it into the water. You lathe the soap into your hands and start scrubbing Aizen's shoulder.

"You do know that I can wash myself, right?" he pokes at you as your hands move down to his chest. You feel his pecs and nod your head, giggling.

"Oh, trust me, I do. You always do everything yourself though. I thought it would be nice if I took care of you," you suggest, moving over to his arms.

You feel every vein in his forearms and how his biceps are just natural big and muscular. Aizen huffs quietly, a chuckle hidden underneath his huff.

Aizen gazes at you, love filling his eyes. He never thought he could love someone like this nor did he think someone could ever care this much about him.

He hates to admit it, but it tugs on his heartstrings.

He grabs onto your arm and pulls you into his chest. Your back is pressed up against his chest and his arms are wrapped tightly around you.

"What's going on?" you ask, chuckling as he squeezes you tightly.

"Nothing just...thank you," he whispers into your ear, placing a sweet kiss behind your ear. You smile warmly, leaning back into Aizen's gentle touch.

Aizen holds you tightly, the most precious thing in the whole universe to him.

[hajimeseyo]

You're staring, Izana notices. 

He has no idea who you are, really, but you've been trying (and obviously failing) to sneak subtle glances at him the entire time since he stepped into the convenience store. It's starting to throw him off, just a little. For all he knows, you could be a spy from an opposing gang. Not a very good one, though. 

Your gaze follows him as he walks towards the cashier and pays, and even as he walks towards the exit, plastic bags in hand. He pays it no mind as he feels it shift off him, the sound of the cashier greeting you the last thing he hears as he steps outside the store. 

It didn't seem like you were going to pick a fight with him, he might as well just leave it be. 

Besides, any gang that dared to come after Tenjiku would just be mercilessly crushed under his heel. A spy or two wouldn't change that fact.

The clouds above him rumble, dark and heavy, and he frowns, looking up at the cloudy sky. It would be a pain in the ass if it rained while he was in the middle of walking home. Maybe he could call Kakucho to pick him up. Or he could just buy an umbrella from the store right behind him…

The sound of footsteps snap him out of his thoughts, and he glances to the side to see you, head lowered and lips mouthing numbers as you take inventory of the things in your plastic bag. You don't seem to have noticed him, he notes in amusement.

His theory proves true when you look up, done from counting, and nearly jump at the sight of him staring straight at you. Your eyes are wide, the way you freeze reminding him of a prey caught by its hunter, and he can't stop himself from having a little fun. 

“You were staring at me quite a lot earlier, huh?” He says, relishing in the way your face flushes with embarrassment, and the way you instantly try (and fail) to school it into a look of nonchalance. “Is there a problem?”

You cough awkwardly, eyes suddenly unable to look at him despite being fully glued onto him just minutes ago. Izana watches you squirm, all too used to these shows of discomfort. Based on most of his past interactions, you'll probably come up with some lame excuse on why you were staring at him, then take the first opportunity you have to run away. Or get defensive, and aggressively deny you were doing anything of the sort. People always act the same when confronted with their actions. Izana's used to the same old song and dance. 

He wonders which route you’ll take.

To his surprise, you take neither of them. 

You seem to come to a decision, gaze snapping up to him, nervous but suddenly full of what seems like determination.

“There's no problem, I was just staring because–” You falter a little here, cheeks reddening a little again, before you pull yourself together with a quick shake of the head. “Because, well…your eyes.”

“Hm?” That response certainly wasn’t what he was expecting. “What about them?”

“They're beautiful.”

The words are said so plainly, without a trace of any doubt, and Izana is shocked speechless. 

While he doesn't deny that he's good looking, the word ‘beautiful’ and any part of him have never been together in the same sentence before. That he's heard of, at least. Even if any of his subordinates had the guts to consider him ‘beautiful’, they definitely wouldn’t have the guts to say it to his face. Granted, you probably don’t have any idea who he is, but still. This is definitely a first.

(And even so, the thought that something about him could be beautiful was something that had never occurred to him.)

“...Really?” The words come out in a whisper before he could stop himself.

You nod vigorously, and once again Izana is thrown off by the fact that it's something you're so sure of. As if the thought of it being untrue has never even crossed your mind.

His response seems to appear to you as an invitation to talk more, as you continue speaking, hesitation fading away with each word that comes out of your mouth. “They're just such a beautiful shade of purple, like amethysts. I've never seen anything like it before. And paired with your long white eyelashes and white hair, you look like someone's painting came to life.”

"I don't know if anyone's told you before, but you're really a sight to behold."

There's a light, pleasant feeling in his chest.

He doesn't know what it is. 

“Ah!” You suddenly slap your hands over your mouth. “I spoke too much! God, I must've sounded like a creep, I'm so sorry–”

A laugh cuts you off from your panicked rambling. Izana doesn't quite know why he's laughing, but seeing you panicking over saying the wrong things despite being fully shameless literally right before just seemed so funny, and well, there's such a nice warmth in his chest; indulging in it doesn't hurt, right?

(He doesn’t notice the stars in your eyes as you stare, almost in awe, at his laughing visage.)

“What’s your name?” You’re interesting, he’s decided. It would be a shame to let you just slip away.

“[name].”

He lets out a hum. “[name], huh…got it.” 

“Wait.” You call out to him, just as he turns and begins to walk away. “What’s yours?”

He doesn’t notice, but as he turns back, there’s a genuine, serene smile on his face that would’ve shocked even the noisiest Haitani twins into silence at seeing it on the face of the highly feared leader of Tenjiku.

“Izana. Don’t forget it.”

(He’s scolded nonstop by Kakucho when he shows up at home, soaking wet from the heavy downpour outside.

“It’s not like you to be so careless.” Kakucho huffs, drying his hair roughly with all the fierceness of an Asian mom. “You knew it was going to start raining on your way back, why didn’t you just call for one of us to get you from the store?”

Izana hums unconcernedly. “I was already walking away from the store, I couldn’t just stop and turn back.”

“Huh?? Why the hell not??”

“Don’t be stupid, Kakucho. I would’ve looked so uncool.”

“??????”)

(part 2 here!)

[felassan]

July 22nd DA:TV Game Informer article (their last DA:TV coverage article) on Everything we Know about Bellara - cliff notes:

Bellara is Dalish elf (played by Jee Young Han as we know). There might be more to her than meets the eye

"Now, with two of [the elven] gods on the loose, magic has poured back into the world in a big way"

CC is expansive

Bellara is the first companion we will recruit (Neve and Harding join automatically it seems)

She is a mage, a Veil Jumper (who she represents), quirky, energetic, effervescent, optimistic, bubbly, academic, a tinkerer, an explorer of ancient elven ruins

John Epler wrote her and led her development, and collective team effort from lots of departments brought her to life

The BW team really love her

Gary McKay quote: "I love Bellara, I think she's fantastic. I see people that I know in her and so that's how she really resonates with me. I love the whole tinkerer aspect to her. It was a collective to bring that character to life. It was everything from the writers, to the editors, the animators, to character modelers, to the texturing, to how we light her. I'm really proud of that character."

She is a good choice in combat for both support and elemental combos. She starts out as a support character, but can be built in other ways

She attacks with a bow at range using electrically-charged arrows. She can also cast time-slow and healing spells (she can be built to heal Rook autonomously). She does this by channeling magical energy into her gauntlet

As such she leans into electrical damage

Damage type matters a lot in the strategy and tactics of combat

She can unleash a devastating vortex to pull enemies into an electrical storm (an AOE spell)

She can debuff enemies with the shocked affliction, which makes them take passive damage

Corinne Busche quote: "Oh my goodness, she is amazing. [The Veil Jumpers] investigate the ancient ruins of Arlathan. Everything about her character as a mage leans into that, but she also challenges the kind of archetypal idea of a mage."

The Veil Jumpers journey through Arlathan where the ancient empire used to exist and left a lot of artifacts and magical technology behind when it disappeared

Bellara represents this yearning to find the truth of who the elves were after they lost their magic, immortality and a lot of their history

"they still left a lot of their artifacts and a lot of their, for lack of a better term, magical technology behind"

John Epler quote: "A lot of what they know of their past is based on myth, it's based on rumor. Bellara is a knowledge seeker. She wants to find out what's true, what's not; she wants to find the pieces of who the elves used to be and really understand what their story was, where they came from, as well as figure out where they're going next, and find a future for the elves. And within the context of The Veilguard, she joins the team, first of all, to help stop the gods because Bellara feels at least partially responsible since they are elven gods, but also to maybe find a little bit more of who they used to be. Because again, you're dealing with these elves that were around millennia ago that have now reemerged into the world, and who better to teach her who the elves used to be than them."

Magic's place in the world in DA:TV differs from prior games. In Tevinter and other spaces in DA:TV it's much more present by definition and the lore (though the devs wanted to make sure magic didn't violate previously-established lore rules)

Solas is a "determined and tragic character" who "tends to wallow". [nb, these are quotes from the article]. in contrast, Bellara has seen a lot of tragedy in her backstory (we will see this as we get into her arc), but instead of wallowing, she has forced herself to push past it. "She looks at her regrets, and she tells herself, 'I don't want to feel regret'

John: "Whereas again, Solas tends to wallow in his to a large degree. And it allows us to create a very big differentiation. Part of it is also because Solas is an ancient elf, whereas Bellara is a Dalish elf, but she just sees a problem and wants to solve it. She feels a tremendous amount of responsibility to her people [...] to the Dalish, and to the Veil Jumpers, and that drives her forward. That said, she does have her moments where she has doubt, she has moments where she has a more grim outlook, and there are moments where you realize that some of her sunny, optimistic outlook is kind of a mask that she puts on to hide the fact that she's hurting, she's in pain. But in general, she doesn't see any benefit to wallowing in those regrets."

[source]