#pre da4 rook

[dreadfutures]

okay okay so making wild guesses about themes and stories based on the GLIMPSES I've seen but we'll see ofc, most of these are just the most bare bones of characters because I don't like planning out exactly who the rooks are before I know them (exception: halide and Ter but I think they work lol) and we also don't really know the companions yet REALLY but anyway

1st: self insert bodyguard warrior widow dwarf crow x neve (inq ixchel high approval Solas) - two women with very guarded hearts but softies underneath?

other ideas:

- halide human mourn watch mage x davrin (inq Salina Lavellan romance/redeem Solas took the well) - The Attitude Squad

- shadow dragon elf warrior x Lace Harding (also Salina Lavellan) - living up to a legacy/becoming your own person story?

- terinelan veil jumper mage x lucanis? maybe? (also inq Ixchel high approval Solas) - a story of vengeance and expectations?

- older qunari warden rogue x Emmrich - a story of death and old man yaoi (in honor of Ramesh lmao) (Solavellan inq but swore to stop him)

- human Lord of Fortune x Bellara - deciding what "value"/"treasure"/"glory"/"history"/"identity" means? (Solavellan removed vallaslin took the well redeem Solas)

- shadow dragon x taash - we'll see what their whole deal is ig

[cadaveerie]

me playing dragon age: the veilguard

lucanis: so are we heading out or not

rook: yeah just hold on a second

*pets assan* *pets assan* *pets assan* *pets assan* *pets assan* *pets assan* *hugs assan* *hugs assan* *pets assan* *pets assan* *pets assan* *pets assan* *pets

[forsakenwitchery]

I did tell you this whole scene is eventually incoming in swaps, didn't I? xD And I can't bring myselft to fit it in like 5 smaller or 10 even smaller gifs, so here we are

All my DATV gifs

[vakariansyndrome]

Mierda (fanfic)

Summary:

Rook spends a night out in her hometown before leaving for Minrathous again, and what starts out as a flirtatious dance ends in a steamy encounter on the docks.

A/N: This was my first Lucanis fic, and I had no idea I would then go on to continue it with my longfic Gatita. This part takes place pre-canon (No Spoilers!). Rook is a Shadow Dragon, previously from Antiva (Treviso, specifically). Lucanis uses a fake name—Luca. Super clever, right?! Hehe. And no, Lucanis is not a virgin in this series. Tossing out the battle over what's canon for his sexuality and experience out with the bath water.

Some Spanish words to know:

mierda: shit

cuidadito: careful now

guapo: handsome

gatita: kitten

gata: cat

peligroso: dangerous

Oye, primo!: Hey, cuz (cousin)!

**Warning for explicit goods. This is a smut-shot, after all.**

Read the whole one-shot below the cutline.

----

“Are you coming with?” Rook asked Neve as she pulled her knee-high boots on.

The look on Neve’s face was priceless; a perfect amount of intrigue lurked behind that small smile of hers. "I don’t know, Rook. I think today was long enough, don’t you?”

Rook scoffed. Yeah, the day had been plenty long, what with tracking down their Venatori target. The cultist was a fool thinking he could hide from her, in her city, no less. But they caught him, and they would be leaving for Minrathous the next morning at first light.

Yet the last time Rook was in Treviso felt like a lifetime ago. She had left as a young thing, barely out of her teens, and it was like nothing had changed. Even some 15 years later, the city still felt familiar and warm, with its sensual and dangerous corners. This was home. She would enjoy it before leaving; she was determined to do so.

Rook threw Neve a knowing grin, fastening the last buckle on her boot. “Suit yourself. I’ll make my own fun then.”

She ditched her cloak and stepped out into the chill that crept through Treviso’s dark and wet alleys. As she walked along quietly, the streets pulled her in like an old lover, the flicker of candlelight from corner stands and the hum of chatter rising and falling in the air. Rook felt her heart pounding with an intoxicating thrill as the city greeted her once more.

It wasn’t long before she reached the bar nestled deep in the market streets, a place she remembered well, and the strains of drums and guitars drifted out to meet her. She slid through the door, letting the rich, deep tones of the music draw her in. This was where Treviso truly lived, hidden in the shadows and glances of strangers who might become more, if only for the night.

Letting herself sink into the music, each sway of her hips was a bold declaration to the room—she was eager, wanton, ready for the fire. Her gaze slid over the patrons, a flicker here and there of admiring eyes she had already forgotten, until it landed on him. Leaning casually against the bar, his gaze held hers with an intensity she could feel dance across her skin, darkly appraising. His lips curled into a soft, almost innocent smile, one that felt like a stunning contradiction to the smoldering look in his eyes.

She took her time, moving to the tempo of the resonating beat of drums, letting him watch and savoring the attention. The thrill of knowing that she could beckon him closer if she wanted only deepened her excitement. As the song shifted, the beat slowing to a rhythm that pulsed deep in her chest, Rook glided through the crowd towards him, her fingers trailing along the edge of the bar once she reached him.

She didn’t stop, didn’t speak, simply let her shoulder brush his as she leaned past him for a drink, close enough to feel his warmth, to hear his low chuckle in response. Her breath caught for a second when he leaned in to murmur in her ear.

“I did not think a stranger could look so at home here,” he said with a marked playfulness.

Rook arched an eyebrow as she took a slow sip before responding. “This city knows me better than most people do.” She allowed her gaze to wash over him, from the curl of his smile to the strong, groomed lines of his beard, a swarthy allure in every feature. “But I don’t believe we’ve met. I’d remember.”

A sharpness slipped into his expression as he grinned at her, and she saw a matching curiosity light up in his eyes.

“Luca,” he said, almost as an afterthought. He offered his hand with a slight, irreverent bow. When his fingers brushed hers, they were rough and warm. Definitely her type. “And you are?”

“Rook,” she said, letting her hand linger in his hold just a moment longer. “But tonight, you don’t get anything more than that.”

“Rook, is it?” he repeated, as if savoring the name to test its taste. “Then I will count myself lucky for what I do get.”

The music's tempo dipped again, the rhythm deeper and slower, inviting them in closer as they began to dance. He didn’t wait for an invitation, stepping in with a smug confidence as he met her sway. And she let him, enjoying the feel of his hand resting lightly on her waist, warm and heavy on her. Maker, he was something, and she was willing to bet there was more there than the met the eye.

When his fingers slid up her side, brushing the bare skin at her hip, Rook cocked her head to the side. “Cuidadito,” she warned, though her smile said otherwise. “I tend to get bored when things come too easily.”

With a chuckle, he leaned in so that his breath ghosted over her cheek. “Good thing, then; I have never been accused of being easy.”

The music, the way his body pressed against hers, the echo of a rousing lust in his gaze—everything around them seemed to melt away as they fell into the rhythm together, wits and desire harmonizing. Rook’s heart beat wildly, and she felt that familiar rush of knowing he was a stranger, someone who would vanish with the dawn, leaving nothing but the memory of tonight to linger.

And that was exactly how she wanted it.

As they moved together, Rook felt the heat of his gaze tracing every sway of her body, his hand firm yet respectful at her waist. She could sense the restraint there, the hint that he wasn’t used to waiting, that he was used to being the one pursued. The realization excited her, urging her to pull back just slightly, keeping herself just out of reach.

“Tell me, Luca,” she murmured, the name feeling as fake as she knew it was. Her fingers traced along the edge of his collar. “Do you make it a habit of admiring so openly, or is tonight special?”

His grin widened, shameless, as he leaned in closer. “What can I say? I am a man captivated.” The words rolled off his tongue smoothly, with a heat behind them that told her he meant it. “I cannot say I am usually this obvious, but then, you are not exactly a common sight.”

She chuckled softly, feigning disinterest even as tendrils of heat spread traitorously to her core. “Maybe I like to keep it that way. There’s something to a little mystery, after all.” Her fingers trailed down, lightly brushing over his wrist, enough for him to feel her warmth but not enough to satisfy the desire she could see growing in his eyes. “You don’t strike me as someone who’s accustomed to being told no, though.”

Dark eyes gleamed back at her, filled with a daring a spark as he took a slow sip of his drink. “It depends on who is saying it,” he laughed, meeting her gaze head-on. “I like a little fight now and then.”

Rook felt a shiver at his tone. That mouth of his promised all shades of sinful delights, and he hadn’t even said as much. Yet.

But she smirked, lifting her chin as she let her fingers graze over his hand on her waist before slipping away. “A little fight? Then you might want to keep up, guapo.”

She stepped back, already missing the feel of his heated touch on her. With a coy smile, she moved into the crowd, hips switching to the rhythm. Feeling daring, she spared him a glance over her shoulder, biting her lip to find his eyes glued to her ass.

He watched her go with eyes narrowed, as if she had stolen something precious, and he was methodically plotting to get it back. And then, with a confidence she relished, he followed her, weaving through the cluster of people like a hunter closing in on his prey. When he caught up to her, she let him get close as she moved in time with the beat.

“Chasing me already?” she teased. She could see the flicker of frustration in his eyes.

But he merely chuckled, a deep, rich sound that worked its way into her veins with a sultry heat. The warmth of his hand reclaimed her waist, his fingers tapping along her skin.

“Is that what you think I’m doing?” he murmured, leaning in so close she could almost taste the bead of sweat rolling down his neck. “Perhaps I simply wanted to be closer."

The intensity of his gaze made her feel delirious, and she felt a delicious warmth spreading beneath her cheeks. But she wasn’t about to give in so easily, not when she had him so wonderfully on edge. “Closer?” She hummed, her lips nearly brushing up against his beard as she spoke. “Bold. I might make you regret that.”

“I doubt it,” he said with a husky whisper. He matched her gaze, and she felt his grip tighten on her waist, as if making her aware of the strength he held back.

The pulse of the music faded to a distant thrum as they stood a breath apart. He was so close to her, she could smell the faint scent of cedarwood and smoke clinging to him, rugged, earthy… fucking dangerous. His thumb grazed the bare skin at her hip, and she shivered. His touch held a gentle note, encasing an underlying possessiveness she wanted marked on her skin. It was as if he was staking a claim he didn’t yet have the right to make. But when she looked at him, she was bewitched by the dancing heat in his gaze, smoldering lazily beneath that handsome face of calm.

Studying him, Rook’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. A heady pride bloomed in her chest, knowing she could unravel that control, that she could make him falter. That she totally would. Leaning in close, his beard scratched at her jaw faintly as her lips hovered near his, and she could feel the tension strung tightly between them.

She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, though; this dance was far too enjoyable to succumb to him just yet. But wasn’t that what she wanted? To be taken, explored with no strings attached?

Their eyes met, the air electric between them, each daring the other to make the next move. For the briefest moment, she allowed herself to lean into him, letting him feel her warmth, to taste the victory he sought. But then she was gone again, slipping from his grasp with a laugh. Leaving him standing alone there, she turned towards the exit, not even glancing back to see if he would follow. Of course, he would.

As she led the way through the winding streets, the thrill of the chase lingered in the sensuous silence between them. She moved with purpose, not once slowing down as the soft echo of her heels punctuated the quiet night, sinking deeper into Treviso’s backstreets. She could feel him behind her, like an anchored shadow, matching her pace.

Yet, he made no move to overtake her. There was power in that restraint, she thought, and it only heightened her desire for him. To feel his hands trace her curves with a hungry touch. Would he be gentle? Was he a generous lover?

The sounds of the bar were quickly replaced by the gentle lapping of water against old wood as they reached the docks. The abandoned dock stretched out into the water, weathered boards creaking softly beneath her steps. She stopped at the end of the pier and looked out at the dark expanse, letting the silence settle. Her body thrummed and tingled with want.

When she finally turned to him, he was closer than she had expected, the moonlight bathing his swarthy features in a soft glow. His gaze held hers, and for a moment, she wondered if he would break that controlled facade. If he would take what he clearly wanted. What she wanted. But he held back, watching her as though she were a puzzle he was still figuring out how to best.

“Nice view,” he murmured playfully.

Rook arched an eyebrow, smiling as she crossed her arms. “Is that so?” she asked, teasing, as if she didn’t want to fuck this man senseless.

He took a small step forward, hands slipping into his pockets as he studied her. “I thought you were trying to lose me,” he said quietly, his smile wrapped in feigned innocence.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” With a coy smile, her gaze dropped to his collar, then lower, sizing him up with no shame. “But then, I didn’t think you would follow so quickly.” But Maker, was she glad he did.

Stepping close enough that she could feel his warmth radiating off of him, he leaned in so that her back pressed lightly against the railing. A bare hand came up, fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face with a delicate slowness, a light touch that made her swallow nervously. His gaze seemed to penetrate her, searching hers for any hint of doubt or retreat.

“Maybe I wanted to see if you would run,” he whispered, and she wasn’t sure if it was meant for her or for himself.

Somewhere far off in her thoughts, she knew how to breathe, to inhale and exhale with care, but the longer she held his gaze, the harder it became to hide the way her breath hitched. Fuck it.

“And spoil all the fun?” Her hand splayed out on his chest, resting over the steady beat of his heart, strong, even. Shit, how does he do that? She felt like she was caught in a very personal web, intricately woven, specifically for her. Yet there was no desire to resist the pull. She leaned in. “I think you’ll find I’m not so easily chased off.”

For a stretch of what felt like time standing still, they stood locked in a haze of lust. Her fingers traced lazy circles over the fine cotton of his shirt, while his hand braced against the railing behind her, effectively trapping her there. With him. She took a deep breath, savoring the warmth blazing between them, every nerve alive with the power of knowing he was waiting on her word, letting her decide where this game would lead.

It was in that charged silence that she let a soft snicker slip from her lips, her gaze an invitation. But to do what? Watching him lean in, his breath ghosting over her neck, she closed her eyes, swallowing hard as she tried to regain control over herself. All she had to do was tilt her chin, and his lips would be on hers. Peligroso.

Head in a swirl, she pulled back, leaving him on the edge, while praying he would just fucking take her already. The rush of anticipation thrumming between them as they stood under a watchful night sky, each of them holding back, waiting to see who would make the first move—it was intoxicating, exacerbating her craving for him. More.

It was a dangerous game, one that could end in heartbreak or ecstasy, depending on who had the upper hand. And right now, that power lay with her.

His dark eyes were clouded with desire, and she could almost taste his restraint crumbling, feel his control slipping away with each breath. Finally, his hand left the railing, trailing down her arm until it came to rest at her hip. Greedy fingertips dug into her skin, drawing her in so that she could feel his breath racing, matching her quickening heart beat.

He dipped his head, his lips brushing along her cheek, the soft scratch of his beard sending a salacious shiver down her spine. His teeth grazed her throat, a light nip eliciting a gasp from her parted and eager lips. A soft warmth spread down her neck. The smug bastard had to know what he was doing to her. Oh... he totally knew. Yet all she could do was respond. She arched against him, and his groan against her neck went straight to her already quivering core. But it was when he looked at her, his dark brown eyes simmering with a primal need, that she felt a hint of fear, afraid of this enthralling desire he stirred up within her with a mere touch.

Leaning in, his lips almost touched hers, but she reached up in a second of clarity, pressing her fingers over his mouth. His lips were soft and warm beneath her touch. Shit, she thought, biting her lip. She wanted to feel them all over her. Swallowing hard, she met his gaze with as much fire as she felt in her belly before saying, “No kissing.”

His mouth twitched under her fingers as he smirked, his tongue darting out to taste them. It took only a second before he was drawing her index finger between his teeth with a light nip. She gasped, flushing at the nervous chuckle that left her. All of that power slipping from her grasp at the feel of his tongue on her skin.

A searing lust coursed through her veins, burning every sensible thought as he sucked lightly at the pad of her fingertip. This wasn't right. She had been in control until a moment ago, and now... Her hand slid from his face down to his chest, feeling his heart thunder beneath her touch. Now, all she wanted to do was let him take her right there on the docks.

The world seemed to narrow to only the two of them, his eyes holding hers captive with their intensity. The heat in his gaze left her breathless as he drew back, his tongue gliding across his bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth. Fucking tease. He smiled at her as though he knew exactly what he was doing to her and had no plans to stop. Good, she thought.

With a light caress, he tucked the strand of hair that had fallen across her face behind her ear. Rook held her breath, waiting to see if he would try to kiss her again. Instead, he gave her a sly look before dipping his head and running his tongue along her skin, slowly dragging the flat of it over her collarbone until he reached the crook of her neck, nipping her there with his teeth. Maker, help me. He pulled her flush up to his body, the soft fullness of breasts pressing against the firm planes of his chest. The heat of his mouth closed over the sensitive skin between her neck and shoulder, sucking with an intent that made her moan quietly in spite of herself.

The sound seemed to ignite something in him, and he responded by tightening his grip, fingers digging into her hips as he rolled the firmness of his arousal against her. Rook bit down on her lip. She struggled to keep quiet as she gripped the back of his head, fingers lost in his hair, keeping him trapped there while his hands roved lower.

“If you wanted me to chase you, then you should have run faster, gatita." She shivered at the raw hunger in his voice, the promise of more. "Are you going to be mine tonight?" he asked, gruff.

Rook nodded, swallowing hard, her mouth suddenly dry. Well, that was decided then. Tonight, she was the prey, and the mere thought of being caught by him made her cunt ache with need. She didn’t dare move, her breath shallow as she waited to see what he would do next.

His smile grew, a playful tilt to it that seemed to make his eyes sparkle. It was a dangerous thing for her to find attractive, given who he might be in a city littered with assassins. The feel of him pressed so intimately into her, she wanted nothing more than to tear off their clothes and feel those strong, lithe muscles she had spied at the club rippling under her touch.

"I want to hear you say it," he said with a deceptive sweetness in his voice.

"Say what?" she breathed, unable to keep the slight tremor from her voice. Fuck, she was so wet, and he hadn't even gotten started yet. It was exhilarating, feeling his control slip away, knowing that he wanted this as much as she did.

He gave her a sharp look, and she stilled. She felt as though she could fall into those warm depths, dark chocolate pools edged out by desire. "That you are mine tonight." Closer. "That you will do whatever I say, and when I am done with you, you will not be able to walk straight for days." Closer.

"Well, you can certainly try to make that happen," she challenged him with a coy smile. Her stomach fluttered as he stared down at her with an arched eyebrow. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help it. The spice of teasing him, of feeling him hold back his control, was too much to resist.

"Oh, I will," he said with a soft laugh. "But remember, gatita, you asked for this."

“Did I, now?” she taunted, giving him a look she knew he would respond to. The way he was staring at her made her want to drop to her knees and feel him unravel in the warmth of her mouth.

But a slow smile spread across his lips as he leaned in. She felt the hard ridges of his length pressing into her thigh through his leather pants, eliciting a needy moan from her lips.

His answering chuckle was a low, husky sound that had her stifling a whimper. But there was no holding back her soft moan when his hand slid down her back, until it reached the curve of her ass, fingers digging capriciously through the thin fabric of her skirt. “Let us not play games any longer, hm?” he said, his voice dropping to a low purr.

She swallowed hard, her breath hitching when his grip tightened. Her heart raced, but she held his gaze, refusing to break first.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, like he knew he had her right where he wanted her. And then, he lifted her up, settling her onto the railing, and stepped between her thighs. With an undignified yelp, she gasped at the sudden shift before grabbing onto his shoulders to steady herself.

He looked up at her with a curious gaze before he leaned in. "I like this view even better."

Rook’s heart leapt, an excitable fear coursing through her as her abs constricted, trying to maintain her balance on the railing. One false move, and she would be neck deep in water.

His hands rested on her bare thighs, his thumbs gently circling over the smooth skin as he looked out at the dark expanse of water. She relaxed slightly at the gesture. When he looked back at her, she swallowed nervously at the predatory gleam she saw in his eyes.

"Are you afraid?” He purred into her ear, lapping up her earlobe into his mouth and sucking on it before releasing it with a rich hum.

Rook swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "No." It was a lie, of course. She didn't want him to see how much he affected her, how much she wanted this.

"Good." He chuckled darkly, and his hands moved up her thighs, pushing up the hem of her skirt until it bunched around her waist. He pulled away from her and hooked his fingers under the side of her panties, guiding them to the side with deft fingers. She felt his touch ghost over her clit, warm and calloused, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip to stifle a moan.

"I want to hear you, gatita."

"Shit," she moaned softly as his fingers found her wetness. He dipped a finger inside, teasing her entrance with slow, shallow strokes. His thumb traced circles around her clit, making her squirm beneath his touch.

“You're so wet for me already." He chuckled, slipping another finger inside, her legs trembling. "Do you want me to take you right here where anyone can see?"

Her body wasn’t the only thing teetering on the edge as she met his wanton stare. “Yeah,” she whispered, her fingers tangling into his silken, raven strands. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

With a devilish grin, he slipped his fingers out of her, bringing them to his lips and licking her wetness from them with a low growl. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers, his breath hot on her lips. "You asked for this," he reminded her through a throaty murmur, deliciously thick with desire.

Then, in one quick move, he lifted her off the railing and spun her around, so her back was to his chest, pulling her flush against him. His other hand grasped the front of her neck, fingers pressing on her throat enough to make her gasp in excitement.

She felt his hot breath on her neck, the rough texture of his beard scratching her skin as he bit down hard on her shoulder, sucking and marking the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder. A quiet whimper left her, the sensation sending waves of pleasure straight to her throbbing clit. Maker. The pain mixed with the thrill of being so exposed made her dizzy with need.

"Gatita," he whispered in her ear, making her clench desperately at the roughness in his voice. "When I am done with you, you will be begging me for more."

A soft moan escaped her at the promise. She felt his cock press against her ass, hard and thick. Biting her lip, she tried to hold back the rush of arousal that surged through her.

"You like that, don't you?" he purred. His fingers tightened around her throat, the pressure sending a thrill through her. Hot and ragged, his breath was a desperate pant on her neck. "You like being at my mercy."

She closed her eyes, leaning back against him, feeling his hardness press against her ass. He rocked his hips forward, grinding against her, making her moan.

"Good thing I’m feeling merciful tonight," he purred. His hand reached down between them, tugging at his belt buckle. The sound of leather sliding through metal filled her ears, and she felt his fingers dip below the waistband of his pants, stroking the length of his cock before pulling it free. "Do you want me?”

Rook nodded, unable to speak, her heart racing as his grip tightened around her throat.

"Say it." Trapped within the deceptive calmness of his voice was a command she could no longer ignore. She didn’t want to.

"Yes," she gasped. "I want you."

"That's better," he murmured, releasing his grip on her throat. His hand slid down her chest, trailing between her breasts until it reached her dripping cunt. She felt the head of his cock nudge against her entrance, slick and swollen with need. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

Rook cried out as he sank into her slowly, inch by aching inch. The delicious burn made her whimper with pleasure as he stretched her open. "Fuck. So tight," he groaned, his hands gripping her hips, holding her still as he pushed deeper into her. "So wet."

A strangled moan escaped her as he buried himself in her to the hilt. He ground his hips into her, his cock throbbing inside her. Maker, it felt so good. So wrong. Yet so right. She shuddered, enjoying the feel of his fingers digging into her flesh as he guided her forward and then back onto him. Her body quivered beneath his touch, every nerve alight with excitement as he began to rock his hips.

Her fingers dug into the railing, her knuckles blanching as she struggled to hold on. "Shit," she moaned. He pressed himself tighter to her, his chest to her back, and the heat of his body seeped through his shirt. She could feel the hard planes of muscle beneath his clothes, the strength he was holding back.

"Yes," he growled, his teeth grazing her neck. His hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her vision blur, a cry slipping from her lips as she neared the promise of that little death.

"That's it, gatita," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Don’t be shy." He quickened his pace, reaching around to rub at her clit in time with his thrusts. There was a roughness to his voice, a desperate need to claim her, to make her his. And she couldn't deny how good it felt, being taken by him like this.

She could feel the tension building inside her, coiling up tight like a spring, ready to snap. "Please," she whimpered. She was so close. So fucking close. She needed more.

"Tell me what you want." His hand snaked up to her breast, cupping it roughly. His fingers pinched and pulled at her nipple through the sheer fabric, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

She bit down on her lip, struggling to keep quiet as he continued to fuck her mercilessly.

"Let me hear you," he growled, the rumble in chest vibrating against her back. "Let Treviso hear how good I make you feel."

The moan that left her was pure desperation as her orgasm crested and crashed through her, every muscle tensing and shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over her. He fucked her through her release, drawing out the waves of blinding ecstasy until she was gasping for breath, her legs shaking beneath her.

"Mierda," he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he thrust into her. His pace grew erratic, until he pulled out suddenly, his cock slipping up and down between her ass cheeks as he spilled himself onto her lower back.

He hissed, uttering a string of curses as he held her hips with a bruising grip. After a moment, he rested his forehead on the back of her shoulder, every breath a soft gasp as he wound down.

Leaning over the railing, his weight heavy against her back, she smiled. She felt boneless, sated in a way she had never been before. She didn't dare move, enjoying the feeling of being held by him. It felt like she could stay here forever, wrapped up in his warmth, safe from all the evils of the world. But the cold water lapping below brought her back to reality.

His warm breath tickled her neck. A light kiss whispered across her shoulders before the cold separation of his body from hers. She felt a soft cloth run down her back, cleaning her tenderly, before he straightened her skirt and smoothed it down over her hips. With a gentle touch, he turned her around to face him, looking at her with a sheepish grin.

"Thank you," she breathed, unable to help herself from blushing.

"I should be thanking you, gatita." With a lazy smirk, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "That was quite a ride, no?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips.

Rook laughed, her breath slowly returning to normal, along with the slowing cadence of her heart. “It was certainly fun.” She gently removed his hand from her face, swallowing past the curious light in his gaze. “I have to go, though. I leave at first light.”

There was hint of disappointment in his eyes, but he smiled anyway, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "So soon?"

Rook nodded. "Yes. Business calls."

His smile faded, a seriousness overtaking his features. "Be careful, gata," he murmured, his gaze searching hers. "This world... it is not so kind to beautiful flowers like you."

Rook arched an eyebrow with an amused snicker. “You may see me as a flower, but delicate I am not.”

With a playful and gentle touch, she pushed him away, reveling in the way his gaze took her in with a dangerously sensual perusal. “Thanks for the…” She bit her lip, fighting off a sudden shyness as her cheeks flushed.

“View?” He said smoothly, fixing himself.

Rook couldn’t help but laugh as she looked away, her blush deepening. She nodded, stepping away from him as he stepped closer. He appeared as though he was about to say something else when a shout from the bar pierced through the moment.

“Oye, primo!” A man called out with a bottle of brandy in hand. “Duty calls!” He laughed boisterously before taking a swig of his drink.

'Luca' glanced over his shoulder, before turning back to her with a wry smile. She didn't want to admit how handsome he was when he smiled like that. "Duty calls."

He turned to leave, but she caught his arm, a sudden, bold curiosity getting the better of her. "Wait," she said, unable to keep the hesitancy from her voice. "What's your real name?"

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made her stomach flutter. He leaned in, his lips brushing over her ear, the warmth of his breath tempting her to pull him in closer. "You do not kiss, and I do not tell." His murmur was like silk. "Now, run, gatita, before I catch you again."

She bit her lip to stifle a laugh, a fresh heat rising in her cheeks as she stepped away. Turning from him, she relished the feel of his gaze on her back, swaying her hips with a lustful vengeance to make him wonder if she would look back. But she didn’t, savoring the thrill of leaving him wanting. Cruel? Perhaps. She would never see him again, yet the thought of him pining for her while pumping at his swollen cock, remembering her heat wrapped around him—that alone was worth the tease.

As she stepped off the dock, the last strains of music drifted through the night air, mingling with the rush of her heartbeat. The thought of his low voice whispering “gatita” sent a fiery wave of heat down her spine. She smiled to herself. It was a good thing she was leaving in the morning, because one thing was for certain—there would be no resisting him should they meet again.

----

If you want to bookmark this on AO3, you can find it here: Mierda

Thanks for reading!

[inquisimer]

Hi! I have a question if you would like to answer: what made you want for Arlow and Lucanis to be best friends prior to the events of the game? Like what was the moment where you went „that would be a great idea“ and why?

Ahh yes, thank you for asking!! I am always happy to talk about them (:

Short answer: I'm a sucker for friends-to-lovers, especially with some kind of mess or drama in between.

Long answer:

Before Veilguard dropped, I was being so careful to not let myself get out of hand building a Rook, because even though I like to bend canon, I also like to know what the canon sandbox is before I do that. I wanted to know the backstories, the faction vibes, and the relationship/quest beats before I got my heart set on an OC. At the same time, I was battling the overwhelming urge to immerse myself in character building because I was so hyped. So, as a compromise (and this is the "moment" I would say), I let myself pick exactly one (1) thing about my Rook: she knows how Lucanis takes his coffee and he trusts her to make it for him.

(which became infinitely funnier once it dropped that crow!Rook was a de Riva, because of the poison angle. serendipity, lol)

Having read the short story The Wake, I knew that there would be some fuckery regarding Lucanis being "dead" (and I was already planning to romance him after reading Tevinter Nights). I wanted to give him and Arlow enough of a relationship history that his death would mean more to her than just "ah shit, the First Talon's grandson got got", but I didn't want that history to be romantic, because I wanted to watch the romance arc play out in game.

So, best friends. And with how intense Lucanis is about his platonic relationships with all of the Veilguard, I'm really glad for that choice - I think it suits both of them, and the stories I want to tell for them (:

Thank you again for asking!! Kicking my feet and twirling my hair whenever I get to talk about them 💜💜

[0alix0]

Veilguard wasted opportunity №267:

The first interaction between Ballara and Davrin's did not go like this:

[theeluvian]

I know I said "How are people already writing fanfic" but like... now I'm people...

[100jewels-between-teeth]

Ch. I

Masterlist ¤ AO3 ¤ Ko-Fi

¤¤¤

cw: mentions of violence, mentions of suicide

AN: hope you enjoy this wonderful project and journey we shall be going on together ♡ future posts will have notes at the bottom. If you would like to be added to the tag list for future updates, please let me know! (Transcript provided below)

¤¤¤ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭▹

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈․° ꕥ °․┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Letter 1:

11 Solace, 9:48 Dragon I really do not know why I’m writing this. Maybe because the act of saying it all out loud will make me look like I am some crazed mage possessed. But I know keeping it in will just push me over some kind of edge. So, I guess, I will just look like an idiot and sit here, writing some letter that will be another scattered paper on the streets. If any one of them read this, I think that edge would turn far more literal than metaphorical.  I’m stalling on a piece of fucking paper. *strike through* (dont talk to the fucking paper) I feel ungrateful, I guess. Most would say I should be privileged to sit where I sit. To be a Talon, to finally be equal amongst the others. To have that trust in the family placed on me. But… fuck really at what cost? The sleepless nights of training, the beatings and moments where it felt they were just wanting to torture you to see if you could take the pain. Eating and never truly knowing if what you're putting in your mouth will end in you needing to rush to find some stupidly hidden antidote somewhere. You know what sucks? Everything i eat now tastes like ash. Like every taste bud has just died.  It has to be worth it, right?  It has to be worth something. Fuck I don't know.  This is stupid.  Stupid Crows, stupid me, stupid piece of paper.  At least I have a home. Maybe that is what this is for.  Maybe the contract tomorrow will be easy. How do you shut up to paper?

Letter 2:

13 Solace, 9:48 Dragon (why date if not wanting to be found?) Pequeña cuervo.  (I assume because this is a Crow hideout…well was, I think you're the first to use it in a long while.)  I will agree, if any other Crows read your whimpering, the end might be an easier reality to handle. I can give you tips, though. Since falling from high places isn't exactly the most elegant way to go.  Wait, maybe I shouldn't write that.  Sorry.  I know the price seems steep. And the food is shit no matter what. Most Crows can't cook worth a damn. I can recommend some spices to help. There is a medicine I know to help taste too.  You find worth somehow. It took time for me, but I found it.  I hope your contract went well.  P.S. I did find this on the street. In front of the gutter to this building. You may want to dispose better. But I won't tell. 

Tags: @enterthedreams

[largemandrill]

*Solas voice* In MY Lighthouse??? In front of My fish??????????

[quilleth]

I don't know if something similar happens on each background, but I love that Harding calls a Mourn Watch Rook out on speaking differently when talking abut Mourn Watch/ necromancy things.

And Rook's instant attempt at denial. Like these aren't the greatest screenshots of the moment, but Rook completely shifts the way they speak. Which honestly is so fucking relatable and also so interesting for a PC.

For one thing, I think most people do this to a certain extent about topics they know a lot about with people who similarly know about it. But Rook isn't just using jargon or similar specialized language, they completely change their manner of speaking. Which can be a mirroring thing, but it raises the question (to me) of what else they're mirroring that they might not even realise they're mirroring (like they clearly don't with their speech patterns). It's even more noticeable with the British female voice, which has more of a Northern accent. In the moment in the screenshot, that shift from speaking with Emmrich (and thus more formally or more "properly") to "No I don't" comes with a slight shift in Rook's accent as well.

I am enjoying this but also please i must study them like a bug. Crack them open and see what it takes to make Rook break down all the sorts of walls they've built up. Please i need them to get some kind of seriously painful but cathartic storyline or moment (for Rook--I'd be eating popcorn cackling).

[scribeofmorpheus]

yeah my gripe with the "roleplay" elements of veilguard is that veilguard is "plot" oriented--and i don't mean like... oh here's a story, it has plot. I mean in the context of game creation. roleplay is where "your choices shape the narrative and set the path from which the plot can/should/would unfold, classically diverging from: 'there is only the highway'" plot, on the other hand, is: "there is only the highway--stop the vehicle, change the vehicle, customise the driver--you arrive at the same destination, regardless". sure, veilguard has "consequences" but not true to a story-driven RPG narrative. they're more like highway turn-off's that miraculously turn into a single lane roundabout that feeds back into the highway. again. with this analogy, the reason rook doesn't feel like MY character (no matter how much i customise or change their factions or the pitch and tone of their voice) is because they are in service to the plot. they're a vehicle. they're not even the driver--which is why interactions feel surface level, minute and somewhat lacking in depth. rook is literally being driven along, us along with them, and we have little control over them as they have control over the plot. if this makes sense. veilguard is good at giving the illusion of choice, but ultimately both rook and us (the player) are grossly limited in how we affect the world outside of set-dressing like treviso and dock town choices. veilguard cosplays at roleplay basically.

i think about "we didn't want to force roleplaying [in our roleplaying game]" at least three times a day

[dreadfutures]

A dwarf Crow Rook for da4... Perhaps my idea for her being a body guard like Mr. Nobody from Transistor will work. If so, her former charge/lover was killed.

[dapolyshipping]

Nominations Are Open!

✨CLICK HERE TO NOMINATE YOUR SHIPS✨

Nominations Close: Sunday, September 8th, 2024 12p ET

View Nominated Tags: gDocs | ao3 | autoao3app

Regarding Veilguard Ships: For the 2024 exchange, ships that include Rook, the DA4 protagonist, are NOT eligible for nomination, but ships that include Veilguard companions & NPCs without Rook are eligible. We look forward to including Rook ships in the 2025 exchange! Reminder: Ships that have been nominated for two prior years of DA Polyshipping have been pre-loaded in the tagset, to free up your spaces for other ships!

⏰ Updated Schedule ⏰

Per the results of our Veilguard release date poll, we are adjusting the schedule for this year's exchange as follows:

Nominations Open: Sunday, September 1, 2024 at 12pm ET

Nominations Close: Sunday, September 8 2024 at 12pm ET

Sign-Ups Open: Sunday, September 8 2024 at 12pm ET

Sign-Ups Close: Sunday, September 22, 2024 at 12pm ET

Assignments Received: by Tuesday, September 24, 2024 8:00 PM ET (or earlier!)

Works Due: Sunday, November 17, 2024 at 12pm ET

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[broodwolf221]

Hello, happy DADWC! For a prompt from the Vague Prompts: Eerie Edition, for your Aldwir/Solas, may I submit: If they wept for him, he couldn’t hear it.

@dadrunkwriting - da4 content! 576 words cws: none

pre relationship, but after Daw definitely catches feelings

"So," Daw said, settling on the cot opposite Varric, who straightened and arched a brow.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Solas."

"Oh. Well, yeah."

Daw sighed and rubbed at their face, Varric's tired grin a poor comfort.

"Y'know what really bugs me?"

"Think this could be a long list," Varric pointed out dryly, and it was enough to tease out one of Daw's own grins.

"Too true."

"What's on your mind, kid?"

"It's just…" they dropped their hands back into their lap with a huff. "I care about him."

"Ah." They looked up, but now Varric was the one looking down, idly twisting a piece of his tunic. "I know the feeling."

"I think a lot of people care about him." Varric nodded, then settled back with a sigh.

"The Inquisitor still wants to save him," he pointed out. "And so do I."

"So do I, now," Daw agreed, and Varric nodded slowly. "Even Harding wants to. I don't… she should be furious with him. Should hate his guts. But even she seems to care."

"Harding's a good sort."

"Of course she is. But she never seemed to be as close with Solas, not like you were. Not like the Inquisitor was. They weren't close, and what he did to the dwarves, to your people…" Daw shook their head. It felt cruel to rub it in, but it was still baffling. Things with Solas were always baffling.

"I know, Rook." Varric sounded tired. "I know. I never got the whole Stone thing. And now I'm sitting here wondering if this is why. If it was something I was supposed to know, supposed to feel, that he took from me." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. I don't know if it matters, either. I like who I am." He snorted. "Well, for the most part. Could've done better with Solas."

"Everyone could've done better with Solas," Daw pointed out, and Varric flapped a hand at them, half-dismissive, half-conceding.

"Yeah, yeah. Point is, I think about it, but it's not gonna keep me up at night, either. That's the past. The really distant past. This is what's happening now. This is what we can deal with."

"He seems so lonely," Daw said, Varric nodding slowly.

"I think he is, Rook."

"It's strange."

"Okay, we're living in the Fade, chasing an ancient elven god-but-not, and learning the most mind-breaking shit every other day. Gonna have to be a little more specific." Daw grinned.

"Point taken. What I mean is, so many people mourn for him. So many would weep for him. And he doesn't even know. Or if he does, he refuses to believe it. Or, I don't know, refuses to believe he deserves it."

"He's Pride, kid."

"Is he, though?"

Varric hummed, considering. "I don't think it's about ego, if that's what you're asking. Pretty sure I've never met someone who hates themselves more than Chuckles. Nah, I think Pride, his pride, is all about certainty. Conviction. Besides, pride stands alone, doesn't it? Stands alone, stands above, fixed and fixated."

"Sounds like you're composing your next book," Daw teased, and was glad to see it earn a smile, even if it was thin and tired.

"Always, Rook. Always."

Daw pushed themselves up and smiled at Varric. He really did look tired. "I'll let you get some rest," they said, and Varric nodded before settling back down. Daw walked to the door, then paused. "And, Varric?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Rook."

[theharellan]

🗺️ - How often does your muse travel? Do they like to travel? Would they prefer to travel alone, or with friends? Where have they been? What was their favorite trip? | @skyheld

So often. It has more or less been his job his whole life, although the reasons why varied. As Wisdom he would travel to the courts of the other evanuris to lend his nature to the courses they set for their kingdoms, or wander in dreams/the far reaches of the world on Mythal's behest, as in this thread with Joly. As Fen'Harel, war took him many places, as they were waging a war against an empire as vast as the continent.

Inquisition took him many places for similar reasons, but we were there for that one. For my default in particular, Solas accompanied the Inquisitor many places to keep the Anchor in check, especially before the Breach was sealed (after it was stable enough for a time that he wasn't glued to Thora's side, though he remained a part of her staple forward party).

He likes to travel, but wishes it were more aimless. As he says in Inquisition, one must be interesting to experience more of the Fade, and travel is a good way to broaden one's horizons. It plays to his nature, learning and dispensing wisdom. He would prefer to travel in small groups, one fantasy that really appeals to him is the idea of him and Ian travelling the world together post-Inquisition. A small party like the Inquisition's is also comfortable, depending upon the company.

As for where he's been: all over! He has visited almost every reach of a pre-Veil world, including the Deepest Fade. What is now southern Orlais and Ferelden he knows especially well as it was Mythal's kingdom, but he was also familiar with what is now the Silent Plains (near where he was "born) and Arlathan Forest. By the Dragon Age the world has changed to the point that he sort of starts over again in his mind, but it's still easier to list where he hasn't been. Which is to say: the Anderfels, Antiva, and Nevarra. Not-coincidence that these are places Rook can potentially be from (by DA4 he does have a presence in Tevinter and while I don't think he's explored Rivain deeply I do think he was in it to have seen the qunari baking bread).

While I think he has loved many trips in his lifetime, many are tarnished by the fall of the empire. One more recent trip that he remains fond of is the trip he and Ian took to Crestwood. The conversation they have at the destination had some... turns (Ian does not take the revelation that he is Fen'Harel with a smile and a nod), but the journey was pleasant. They took about two weeks to meander around northern and central Ferelden, stopping in ruins and towns. They even go dancing. It was a rare moment where both of them felt like an ordinary couple in an ordinary place. I mentioned earlier that he had a fantasy of travelling the world with Ian after Inquisition, and the trip looked like what that fantasy was.

[vounoura]

general da4 thoughts; major general spoilers (I mean it)

destroying the entire south off-screen is a bit of a choice; I can't say I necessarily disagree with it bc the evil gremlin in my brain loves that shit, I actually loved how bleak a lot of the stakes were esp in act 2/3, how every victory came at extreme cost, that they were brave enough to force at best one mandatory main character death and at worst a TPK, and that they weren't afraid to take a baseball bat to the places we loved. On the other hand, I wish we'd seen some of it. Rook having to keep northern Thedas from imploding in on itself while also helping the Inquisitor down south in engagements against the 2x Blight could've been really cool, esp. bc the Inquisitor has a weirdly absent role for how much Solas is involved.

If you are going to do it off-screen tho; as someone who defended the decision pre-release, this is where you really feel the lack of reactivity imo. I do think more choices should've been included, particularly with the fight in the south. If the states you left places in from DAO/2/I affected how they fared during DAV (ie. maybe Gaspard is the worse political choice in DAI, but his aggressive military response in DAV is what keeps Orlais alive when the 2x Blight hits; maybe banishing the Wardens from Orlais significantly affects if they can defend themselves when the Blight knocks on their door, and by the time you can repeal that decision it's already too late. maybe saving both Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep gives at least a part of Ferelden a better chance to survive, whether or not the Inquisition is still around and the Inquisitor has an army to use should be massive, etc) I think maybe the decision to have the south under a losing siege off-screen would've gone over / felt better if at least you could've affected how it went down a bit. I know they want to make the threat and power of Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan really apparent, but still. I guess that's h/c territory for me now

That being said like I said I actually really enjoyed the really bleak stakes, and I have a lot of whinges and quibbles but still mostly enjoyed the experience. granted I am extremely easy to please re: DA and I fully admit that, but my heart almost did not recover from the endgame I did not know if Neve survived helping the VJs for like a full hour