#writing that rook fanfic

[tealfling]

Bellara, girl that you are, woman of all time

She's so one of us.

Literally me.

[tamwritesstuff]

for anyone in need of a little bit of angst, here's a snippet of the conversation between lucanis and viago after crow!rook gets stuck in fade jail :)

Lucanis strides into the Cantori Diamond looking like death.

The casino is bustling with activity as usual. The movement of people, the clinking of glasses, the sound of coins exchanging hands. It almost makes it seem like any other day. Lucanis knows it’s not. He had never enjoyed places like this — not the way Illario did — and even being on the top floor of the casino, above all that noise didn’t make him any more comfortable. Still, he had always found the time to greet some of the other Crows wandering about the room, even if it was just a quick nod. Now, fledglings flinch away as he walks past them not paying them any mind.

Teia sees him approach from the other corner of the room, and something in her posture seems to relax. “Thank the Maker!” she exclaims, running to meet him. “What in Andraste’s name happened, Lucanis? You sent word you were all going to an island to stop some ritual and then we didn’t hear from you in days!” she frowns, “and after the things we’ve been hearing from Minrathous—”

Lucanis can feel her anxious gaze on him, waiting for a response but he has no words for her. He closes his eyes, chest roaring with pain. Joder. Caterina’s training hadn’t prepared him for this. All his life he had measured suffering in broken bones and stab wounds. Now his heart is faced with a loss so devastating it reverberates through his entire being.

“Lucanis?” Teia calls softly, almost startling him.

“Ghilan’nain’s been slain” he manages to say at last. The only good news he has to offer. She makes a sound of surprise, turns to look at Viago only to find him already looking at them. There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he stares at Lucanis.

“Where’s Rook?” he asks, voice deceptively calm.

Lucanis goes still, grief and pain wreaking havoc inside of him. He doesn’t know what expression is reflected on his face but it must be enough to convey what his words cannot because Viago takes a step back. “No,” he says and there’s a sharpness in his tone, a denial that Lucanis knows all too well. “No” he repeats, turning his back and leaning his hands on the table for support.

Teia stares at them, horrified, “How—”

Spite growls. He tricked her! He took her away from us!

Lucanis can feel the demon’s anger like a mirror to his own, a painful, angry thing wanting to be let out and ravage the entire room. And yet when he speaks the words are deadly soft. “The Dread Wolf betrayed us, betrayed her” The words are a new kind of pain. He pauses, hoping that if he doesn’t breathe too deeply he won’t feel the hollow echo of his empty chest. “He trapped her in the Fade”

Viago turns abruptly. He doesn’t make any move to strike, but there’s a cold violence to his gaze, like the silent swish of a blade right before it draws blood. They stare at each other for a moment, neither of them moving. Then Viago's face changes, hard blankness breaking for a moment to reveal the feelings beneath. Loathing.

[lilcawdy]

Another Lucanis headcanon:

So he describes a first kiss coffee flavor as honey and lavender cream right? And Spite likes to mention everyone’s scent. So what if Rook’s scent is honey and lavender? Lucanis would mention it as a way of flirting but Rook wouldn’t know

[glitteringdust]

Lucanis/Spite pining for Rook

Could be at any part of their romance.

Or at 1 am when that 13th cup of coffee hits

Why did you leave?

Spite's questioning had still not ceased. Lucanis ignored the demon, staring at the slow, orbiting Fade rocks in the distance. Trying to clear his head was hard when a Demon wouldn't shut up about his mistake. He takes a sip of the coffee in his hands, surprised at how cold it had become. A trick of the Fade or had he lost track of time? He had already lost track of what number cup this was, the exhaustion from the day was slowly creeping in. He needed to be in better control.

Rook was right there. You had her.

The infatuation Spite had for Rook had started right away— she was a shiny new toy, something new to play with. Lucanis figured the demon would grow bored of her eventually, but Spite hung on to every one of Rook's words and demanded to speak to her constantly. His attention was on Rook whenever she was in the same room.

He could not blame him, honestly. Rook was delightful to be around, and becoming the best part of his day. She was just… good. Everything felt good when she was there. So when she started flirting with him, he could not help himself. She was so close he could smell that unique scent of her.

Cherries…cinnamon…

He was so close to tasting her, but stopped himself at Spite's remark. He could not do this to her, could not bring her close to him if there was even one chance of hurting her. He was an abomination, a danger.

So he pulled away. He left. Keeping her safe was of utmost priority.

Rook is not afraid of us.

"She should be, Spite." He mutters aloud.

He heads back inside the dining hall, needing to start another pot of coffee if he is going to evade sleep a little longer. As it brews, he finds his mind wandering back to Rook.

What would it have been like? Sweet and intriguing, like he thought? Or would she have been more bold? She was a force of nature given form, after all. His kisses would have been fervent, as he pinned her against the wall. Tucked away in the dimly lit pantry, he would have shown her just how much he thought of her.

Maybe she would have taken his hand, and led him back to her room across the way. They'd risk the chance of being seen but he would not have cared. He can picture it now, the way the light of the main hall would make her curls a captivating navy blue. He should have kissed her…

…

…

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but jolts awake just outside the hallway leading to Rook's room.

"Lucanis?"

She's dressed down into sleep clothes, hair slightly damp as if she'd just bathed. "Is everything alright?"

"Ah, Rook. Yes. I am fine, only on a stroll."

Blue eyes examine him once over, a small frown forming, "You look tired, Lucanis. Why don't you get some rest? I can keep an eye on Spite."

Yes. Do it! Go to Rook.

"I do not wish to trouble you with that. Spite is mine to deal with."

"You can’t just avoid sleep forever. It would be no trouble at all." She looks at him with such softness, he wants to give in.

"I can handle this. Do not worry yourself."

The space between them is a hollow ache, close but not enough. A moment of weakness, Caterina would call it. To be an assassin, you must set aside emotion. To get the job done, there can be no hesitation, no doubt. Love is a weakness. It sets you up to lose.

He did not want to lose her.

He turns, heading out of the main hall and back to his own room. The air of the Fade was stale with each inhale, heavy.

How frustrating you are. She likes us, and you stay away?

"What is it with you? Why do you act as if you know her?" He snaps back.

You know her, so I do too. Rook is good.

It’s the least hostile thing Spite has said to him. The demon really means it. He cares for Rook in his own unconventional way.

He pours another cup of coffee.

[acmelxvr]

An Excellent Pairing (18+)

Pairing: Lucanis Dellamorte x Viago de Riva x Rook

Summary: When Lucanis discovers that Rook and Viago's relationship goes beyond that of a normal Crow and her Talon, he throws caution to the wind and indulges himself for one night only; surely that will be enough to satiate him for the rest of his days. However, he's surprised when he finds that they want to indulge him too.

Genre/Tags: Explicit, FMM Threesome, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Character, Dom/Sub, Accidental Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Control, Slight Humiliation, Crying, Brat Taming if you squint, Face-Fucking, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Pussy Play, Aftercare, Creampie, Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Talk of Premature Ejaculation, Cum Eating, Gagging, Hair-pulling, Masturbation, Mild Choking, Clit Slapping, Begging, Slight Breeding, Virgin!Lucanis, Bottom!Lucanis, Top!Viago, Viago cannot SHUT UP during sex, Rook is a Cis Female

Word Count: ~12,000

Notes: Entirely self indulgent and a beast to finish. Good lord, just take a look at those tags.

Tagged as Not Canon Compliant because it doesn't really follow that whole "crow families are like real families" BS. Also tagged as Out of Character because I think Lucanis and Viago would (probably) rather gargle rusty nails than ever have non-monogamous sex. And Viago is definitely not cool enough to do half of the things he does here. But this is MY fic and damn it I want these three to fuck!!!!

I'm on Twitter and AO3 as @acmelxvr

You can read this on AO3 if you'd like to here

MDNI!!!!

When Lucanis wakes up, he finds himself in the Eluvian Room with a hand already through the mirror. He jumps, cursing out loud as Spite fills his head with his incessant yammering. “I want. To leave!” The shriek pulses in his ears, causing Lucanis’ headache to worsen with each passing second.

“I have a contract.” Lucanis starts. He turns to go back up the stairs, but Spite rages against his prison inside Lucanis’ head, causing him to fall to his knees.

“LEAVE!”

“You are impossible!” Lucanis says through gritted teeth. “We will leave. As soon as the contract is completed.” The idea of being away from Rook makes Lucanis’ heart drop, but he pushes the feeling down as he stands back up. He expects the demon to argue, but only hears a snarl as Spite retreats to the deepest recesses of his mind. He sighs, in relief and in exhaustion, knowing that Spite will simply try again once Lucanis falls asleep.

He resigns himself to walking around The Lighthouse for the night, although day and night are indistinguishable here. There are moments where everyone feels the call of sleep around the same time, but the light of The Fade does not change; a mutual agreement between all parties to leave each other alone for a few hours, one that Spite violates frequently.

Lucanis thrums his fingers against the many book spines in the library. Some are clearly from when Solas was the main inhabitant of this place, the pages thinned from wear and centuries long use, with writing in the margins from the same signature, “F”. The newer books, placed amongst the shelves by Bellara and Emmrich, brightly stand out against the old tombs. Lucanis is about to grab one, a pirate romance on the high seas, that Emmrich graciously found for him when he notices how the light from Rook’s room seeps into the library from the ajar door. 

Lucanis wants to go inside and talk to her under the guise of avoiding sleep, but thinks better of it. “I won’t disturb her. She might be doing something important.” He whispers to himself. Spite appears again, much to the chagrin of Lucanis.

“I want. To talk. To ROOK!” he snarls. Lucanis tilts his head to the side, trying to block out the demon. Once Spite starts chanting his request, Lucanis holds up a hand.

“I will indulge you this time. If you allow me to sleep after. Deal?” Spite nods excitedly.

Lucanis approaches Rook’s room, the light seeping from the door dancing around, so at least Rook is actually awake. His crow training demands that he never makes a sound as he moves, even in the supposed safety of The Lighthouse. Lucanis has noticed Rook does the same; the steps are different, but the crows move to the same waltz. 

Lucanis pauses his approach when he hears Rook’s groan muffled by something. He quickens his step, his heart hammering at the thought of Rook being in danger, but his voice catches in his throat when he realizes that Rook is not alone willingly. 

“You get to breathe when I say. And I swear, if you touch yourself I will make you regret it.” Viago’s tone is stern.

Viago.

Viago?

Lucanis’ head swarms with a million questions all at the same time. While he knew Rook and Viago were unusually close for a Talon and a regular crow in the same house, this goes beyond that. Talons do not fuck their crows, lest the opportunity to be lethally replaced presents itself. Not only that but Viago is…Viago. Uptight. Particular. Ruthless. Most rumors about each of the talons are exaggerated, but Lucanis knows that Viago’s reputation is rightfully earned. Everything said about him is completely true. So how has Lucanis not heard of this yet?

He reflects on the moments spent in the Cantori Diamond as Rook, Teia, Viago, and Lucanis worked to free Treviso from the Antaam’s grip. Were there stolen glances that Lucanis wasn’t privy to? Is this why Viago seemed more offended than the others when Rook’s slip-up was mentioned? How long has this been going on? 

Can he join?

Lucanis cringes at the last thought, his sleep deprived state allowing him to think things he otherwise wouldn’t dare to. He’s interrupted again when he hears a wet pop, and Lucanis can’t help but take a step closer to the door. “Please.” Rook moans, only to be silenced again by a growl from Viago. 

“Begging is a good look on you.” Viago says. Lucanis can hear his tip hit the back of Rook’s throat as she gags. The embarrassment that sat in Lucanis’ stomach has now dropped lower, melting into ashamed arousal. “You haven’t earned it yet, though.” Lucanis knows he should turn around right now and head back to the pantry, before he hears even more sounds he’ll never erase from his head. But as he takes another step towards Rook’s room, he’s palming himself through his pants and almost groans at the unreleased tension.

Lucanis has only dreamed about this situation, although never with the two objects of his desires together. He can’t decide if he’ll want to be in Rook’s position or Viago’s when he recalls this in private later. There’s the added layer of jealousy, too; that the two people he’s only ever flirted with can somehow fuck each other so easily, but not him. Is that what he wants from them? A quick fuck, one without feelings? Is that what they’re doing right now, or is it something more? A stolen moment between two lovers or two friends relieving stress?

Viago lets Rook up for air once again. “Viago, please…” Rook trails off, moaning as she takes Viago into her mouth again. Lucanis is a foot away from the door now, his cheeks burning hot as he presses against the wall, not daring to break the final barrier of actually looking inside and searing the visual component of this encounter into his head.

Viago hums in thought. “You look so beautiful like this. On your knees, crying with your lips around me.” Another growl, and Lucanis can discern that Viago has grabbed Rook by the hair and pulled her off. “Have you learned your lesson?” Lucanis can’t remember when he lowered his pants, but now his cock is firm within his grasp.

“Yes, sir. I have.”

Sir? Lucanis twitches at the title. His brows knit together in concentration as Viago chuckles. “Good girl.” Lucanis twitches again. “On the bed, on your knees.” 

This is a side of Viago that Lucanis can’t even fathom exists. Viago usually has the disposition of a wet cat: a bit scary from afar, but pathetic and charming in his own way once you get close enough. Lucanis always thought that the man was extremely talented in what he did, but similar to himself in that they usually killed targets first to avoid having to turn on their lacking charms. He loses his train of thought when he hears Viago’s whispers meant only for Rook’s ears. Clearly, Lucanis had read the man very wrong.

He’ll watch just this once. One time will be enough to sustain him for the rest of his days. He rationalizes it by noting that two crows should know to at least close the door if they don’t want to be interrupted. He’s walked by Rook’s door dozens of times in the hopes she’s standing outside only to find it closed. She knows how to close doors, right?

LOOK. Spite whispers in the back of Lucanis’ mind. He smears the pre cum leaking from his tip onto his palm, snarling at Spite’s interference. He hears a smack from inside Rook’s room and she whimpers.

LOOK!

Lucanis tears his eyes open and moves to occupy the small opening from the door. As he focuses his sight despite the dim lighting, he finds Viago and Rook on the small chaise in the middle of the room. Viago has one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around her neck, pulling Rook up against his chest. Lucanis examines Viago’s bare fingers, the first time he’s seen them without a pair of gloves on. They’re long, and covered in slick. Lucanis is unsure whose. His hair, which is usually brushed back neatly, has curled back to the look Viago had in his younger days, the thick black strands slightly stuck to his forehead with sweat. 

Rook whines as Viago rubs her clit with his tip, which earns her another slap to her ass. Her breasts are covered in purple splotches, some peeking through Viago’s hand on her neck. She’s also sweaty, but the sweat is mixed with her tears, her makeup running down her face and leaving black streaks in their wake. Viago’s grip tightens, his fingers pressing against her windpipe as he begins to slowly stretch her cunt. 

If this was the last thing Lucanis ever saw, he could die happy.

Lucanis matches his strokes with Viago’s pace which is achingly slow. He pulls all the way out, stops for a moment, then takes his time filling Rook up again. She covers her mouth with her hands as her moans increase in volume, but Viago is quick to tut at this. “Let them hear you.” He’s the perfect picture of control, the only indication of his impending orgasm being how his stomach tightens whenever he’s fully inside of her.

“What about–”

“Lucanis?” Viago draws out the assassin’s name as he moves the hand that occupied Rook’s hip to her clitoris, beginning to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. She yelps, her eyes rolling back into her head in pleasure. Lucanis almost retreats at the mention of his name, but can’t bring himself to as his own hips buck into his hand. “I bet you’d like it if he watched us, wouldn’t you?” Rook nods, but Viago stops completely and begins to pull out. “Use your words.”

She whines at the sudden lack of movement, her eyes welling with tears again. “Y-yes, I would. Sir.” Viago nods approvingly, and resumes his agonizing pace. Lucanis’ heavy stare flits back and forth between the two, watching as Rook’s face contorts just so as Viago hits a spot inside her only he is aware of, his hips snapping against her. Viago is relentless; his middle and ring finger making Rook gush around him even as she begins to shake and attempt to swat his hand away. “It’s too much, Viago–”

“You can take it.” Viago’s other hand lets go of Rook’s neck, making her lean against him for support. He pinches her nipple and rolls it between his fingertips. “Just a bit longer till we can come together. You want that, right?” Rook incoherently babbles, nodding her head back against Viago’s shoulder while he smiles. “Of course you do.” 

Lucanis surmises that they’ve been at this for hours, at least. The way Rook is practically fucked out of her mind, tears streaming down her face while Viago pleasures her, has Lucanis’ thighs flexing in anticipation of his own orgasm. Viago looks down at his fingers that seem to be moving with a mind of their own and bites his lip, emitting a low groan into the crook of Rook’s neck while he kisses the bruised bite marks. Lucanis’ speed picks up along with Viago’s, both men beginning to lose control.

When Lucanis returns his attention to Rook, he gasps when he sees her eyes blown out wide looking back at him. 

The arousal that teetered into release flips into shame, his perverted viewing caught by the one woman he tried to keep away. He refuses to look or run away, at least giving her the grace of facing the consequences of his intrusion head on. Viago is blissfully unaware, completely lost in the crushing warmth of Rook’s insides. Rook is silent for one moment, her half-lidded stare holding Lucanis’ as Viago pistons away.

Then, she smiles, raises an arm to grab Viago’s hair, and tugs.

Viago growls, making Lucanis’ cock jump on its own. Rook nods, slight enough so Viago won’t notice, but perceptible enough that Lucanis’ heart flips when he starts touching himself again with Rook’s approval. “You are impossible.” Viago slaps Rook’s clit, making her jump and pull on his hair again.

“Please, Viago–” The way she whines makes Lucanis and Viago shake their heads at the same time, trying to put off their orgasms for a bit longer.

“Say my name one more time, and I swear to the Maker I will breed you till you see stars.” Lucanis goes slack jawed. Viago’s rhythm becomes erratic as he finally, finally, reaches his release. Rook’s entire body is shaking, and she draws blood from her bottom lip as she bites down.

“Viago–” She doesn’t even finish her sentence, the fifth talon moving his hand to her stomach as he adds pressure underneath her navel. It’s enough to put the trio all over the edge at the same time. 

Lucanis spills into his hand, his hips rutting into the air as he lifts his shirt over his abdomen to avoid a mess. It takes everything in him not to join the pair in their cacophony of moans, Viago especially as he twitches deep inside of Rook, making sure not a drop of his cum drips out of her. Rook’s thighs press in as her own orgasm rushes over her, Viago’s fingers slowly bringing Rook down from the edge. When the drum of his blood pumping finally subsides, Lucanis can hear the pair once again.

Viago still has not pulled out, but moves both hands to Rook’s waist and slowly leans her down, allowing her to rest her head against the back of the chaise. He supports her weight fully, his arms flexing as he holds her up, and Viago bends down momentarily to press a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Good job.” He murmurs against her skin, his usual stoic disposition returning and becoming the man that Lucanis thought he was. Rook lazily opens one eye towards the door, and has to hide a smile when she sees that Lucanis is still watching them. 

Viago’s arms wrap around Rook’s stomach, and she giggles. “You should know by now that that tickles.” Viago doesn’t move, his beard and mustache rubbing against Rook’s back. “And that does too! I’m very sensitive right now, you know.” Viago relents and pulls out, earning a content sigh from Rook as she lays down, out of Lucanis’ view. He moves to Rook’s bedside table, still naked, and retrieves a towel. They’ve done this before. They’ve done this before, here.

“And whose fault is that?” Viago wipes some of the sweat away from his forehead and then Rook’s. Here, in the perceived privacy, his shoulders drop some of the tension he seems to be holding all the time. He smiles more easily as he banters with Rook, and doesn’t get dressed immediately as he sits down on the cushions near Rook’s feet and lazily drapes an arm over the couch. Lucanis hears Rook groan and sees her stretch her arms out, then her legs, moving them over Viago’s thighs. “Have you heard of a thing called personal space?” Viago asks.

Lucanis zips his pants up and slowly steps away, careful to not alert Viago of his presence. “You just came inside me! You don’t get to complain about me violating your personal space!” The last thing Lucanis hears before he escapes back to the library, and then to the pantry, is a shared laugh between the crow and the talon.

The morning after, Lucanis leans over his breakfast and stirs his coffee absentmindedly. His mind keeps flashing back to Viago and Rook. How they looked so good together. How their bodies fit together perfectly, how Lucanis could fit in between.

“Lucanis?” The assassin jumps and drops the spoon he was holding. Bellara is quick to pick the utensil up for him and wipe it on her pants.  “Oh, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have– You seemed so–” 

“It’s alright, Bellara. Just tired.” He waves her concerns away, trying his best to remain in this moment and not last night’s.

“Right, well, Rook needs us in Treviso today.” Lucanis’ flexes his hands, his cheeks flushing pink. “Andarateia– Sorry, Teia, and Viago found a lead about the gaatlok. Could be our big break up against the Antaam!” Bellara is excited at the new discovery, but dread floods Lucanis' veins at having to face Viago knowing what his dick looks like. How can he look at Rook and not see how her tits bounced with every thrust from Viago? He goes through the motions of getting ready, grabbing his daggers and then his back-up daggers, but his mind is somewhere else: back in Rook’s room.

When Bellara and Lucanis walk down to the Eluvian Room, Rook is already there, stretching her limbs in common Crow warm up exercises. She waves to both of them, refusing to stop her mission preparations for anything. “You alright, Rook? Did you hurt yourself?” Bellara asks, offering a hand to help Rook stand.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine.” Rook accepts Bellara’s offer, who yanks the crow up off the floor. “Neck’s just a bit sore.” Lucanis coughs in surprise, and both women look at him. He can’t make eye contact with either of them.

“Sorry, it’s just…I had some almonds earlier.” Bellara raises an eyebrow.

“...That’s nice!” She responds, and Lucanis almost kicks himself for making the situation somehow more awkward.

Once they’re in Treviso, each step further into the Cantori Diamond feels heavier and heavier. Bellara and Rook chat away, as they’re used to Lucanis’ silent brooding at this point, but only one of them is clued into exactly what he’s brooding over. “Rook! Lucanis!” Teia hugs the both of them once they’re standing in front of the Seventh Talon. “Thank you for coming.” Lucanis blinks and he relives the moment he came the same time they did.

“You’re late.” Viago snips, and Rook scoffs.

“If you were able to do this without us, you would’ve done it already.” Viago crosses his arms and sneers while Teia sighs and presses her fingers to her temples, a headache already coming on from these two.

“Right, because your reputation for finishing jobs precedes you.” Viago says, making Rook throw her hands up. Bellara laughs behind her hand, even being polite enough to turn away from the group. Lucanis watches them bicker, Teia even getting involved at one point to step in between them, and wonders how they can be so normal. How can their hearts not sing whenever they see each other after being so vulnerable?

“Please, ladies, let’s get to the job!” Teia exclaims, pushing them away from each other. It’s enough to pause their jabbering for now, and the group moves to the table to discuss the finer details of the talons’ plan. Rook leans in over Viago’s shoulder to look at the map. He points to a particular corner of the Drowned District, his gloved index finger tapping the parchment. Lucanis looks at Viago but doesn’t see anything more behind his usual harsh demeanor. Lucanis’ brow knits in confusion, considering the possibility that perhaps what happened last night was a dream.

But then, he spots it: a purple splotch peeking underneath Rook’s collar. The armor wasn’t high enough to hide everything. The bite mark is especially visible when Rook tilts her head. When Lucanis watches Viago, his eyes are unflinching, immovable as Rook speaks.

The slightest glance. Viago’s gaze roves down to Rook’s collar too.

And his lips quirk into the smallest smile.

Lucanis gasps, grabbing the attention of everyone at the table. Rook, Viago, Teia, and Bellara all turn quickly to him. “Something the matter, Lucanis?” Teia asks. Lucanis stumbles over his words, his palms quickly turning wet under the scrutiny of everyone. Rook’s stare is even when he attempts to answer. It’s almost a challenge, a way to say, “Did you see what you think you saw?”. Viago squints, studying Lucanis and how nervous the man suddenly is.

“Well, um…” Lucanis thinks for a moment. “If we’re heading to the Drowned District, we have to be careful of the infrastructure. Detonating the gaatlok could be detrimental to the people living there.” Teia raises an eyebrow while Viago tilts his head and purses his lips. “Load bearing walls and such.” There’s a moment of silence as everyone considers what Lucanis has graciously added to the conversation.

“I think Lucanis is right.” Rook says, turning the table’s attention back to her. “We don’t want the Butcher to blame anything that might happen on the Crows instead of the Antaam. Could lose us valuable support amongst the people.” It’s a good enough excuse that everyone moves on, and Lucanis lets go of the breath he was holding. When he’s brave enough to rejoin the conversation, he finds that Rook is already looking at him. She winks.

After the mission they return back to the Cantori Diamond to debrief. Rook has a small scrape on her cheek from when a Venatori member managed to move in close enough on her flank before Lucanis could stop him. It’s just a flesh wound that’ll heal with time, but Viago sighs as soon as he sees her anyway. “You got hit.” He deadpans.

“Your observation skills continue to impress me.” Rook says. “Yes, I got hit. It was fine, Lucanis took care of him. Look at how great I am!” She puts her arms out and spins, making Teia laugh. Viago remains unconvinced; He steps forward and grips Rook on the chin, turning her face to get a better look at the cut. He hums, his stature towering over the other crow when they’re this close.

His crow.

“De Riva crows don’t get hit. Dagger, or arrow?” Viago asks Rook. Teia pulls Bellara aside to talk more about the mission. Lucanis can’t peel his eyes away from the pair.

“Dagger. You know how the Venatori are.” Rook responds, almost leaning into his touch.

“I do. You should– need to be more careful.” Viago examines the wound closely. “They like to move in close like that so they can use blood magic on you.”

“I know.” Rook huffs. Viago pulls her face straight on so that way she has no choice but to make eye contact with him.

“Do you?” Viago hisses. Lucanis shifts, hoping his armor is thick enough to keep his erection hidden. Rook glances at Lucanis, then smiles up at Viago.

“Don’t worry. I have the Demon of Vyrantium at my side, right Lucanis?” Viago also looks at the master assassin, and drops Rook’s chin. Lucanis laughs uncomfortably at the heat radiating from them.

“You’re going to kill me.” Is all Lucanis says. He isn’t sure who he’s talking to.

Back at The Lighthouse, Lucanis adds some items to the grocery list. The dinner table is completely empty, tonight’s meal leaving most people too full and tired to socialize like they usually do. The dim light from the candles lulls Lucanis, whose eyes close wearily. When he blinks them back open, it feels as though no time has passed, but then he looks at the note.

Flour

Cocoa

Pastina

Tomato

rookrookrookrookrookROOK

vvvvvvviago TOGETHER

inbetweeninbetweeninbetween

Lucanis angrily crumbles the note up and stuffs it into his pocket. “Get out of my head.” He grumbles, and although there’s no response, Lucanis swears he can hear the demon laugh. He heads into the pantry for a moment of attempted privacy, leaning his forehead against the wood once the door is closed. He shuts his eyes, breathing in the scent of aged oak and lingering spices.

“For an assassin, you’re easy to sneak up on.” He jumps and quickly turns.

Rook sits at his desk, her feet resting on the bottom of the chair while she’s firmly planted on the table top. 

“Most people expect visitors from outside their bedroom, not inside.” Lucanis says, heading to his cot and sitting down, facing Rook.

“You’re not most people, though.” Rook responds, which makes Lucanis blanche in surprise. “Also, for an assassin, you lack subtlety.” Lucanis averts his gaze to anywhere in the room but Rook. She laughs, making Lucanis smile despite himself. He loves how her laugh rings clearly, unabashed in her joy. “Ask your questions. I know you have them.”

Lucanis sighs, leaning back against his bed and resting his head on the soft sheets. “So many.” Is his first response. Rook hums, much like Viago does, in acknowledgement. “Does Teia know?” Is his second.

“I’m not privy to what Viago shares with Teia about his life when they’re not together.” Rook chooses her words carefully. “But I haven’t had any conversations with her about our arrangement.”

“So Teia and him aren’t together right now?”

Rook laughs. “No, not right now. Though, you know them. That can change at any given moment.” Lucanis is quiet, his chest rising and falling steadily. He likes that Rook doesn’t attempt to fill silences.

“If they were together–”

“No. It’s one of our rules.” At this, Lucanis raises his head to look at Rook. “We have rules. For when we’re allowed to…” She waves her hand around. “If either of us are in a relationship it doesn’t happen.”

“It being…?”

“Sex, Lucanis.” Rook laughs as he looks away. “It might surprise you, but Viago and I do enjoy each other’s company without the added benefit of sex.” He chortles, which makes Rook roll her eyes.

“When did this start?” At this question, Rook looks up to the ceiling as though truly pondering it.

“Well, I had only heard about Viago before he became Fifth Talon. But we first met because of a contract, actually.” Rook cracks her knuckles. “We were on a mission, about six years ago; the client specifically paid for Viago to tag along on the job. And you know him.”

Lucanis nods. “He’s kind of…”

“A stick in the mud?” Rook laughs. “He wanted everything to go well. To prove himself to Caterina. So, we went to Orlais.” Lucanis props himself up on his elbows.

“Did you have to pretend to be a couple? And then everything that was fake turned real?” Rook leans over to shove Lucanis lightly on the shoulder.

“I didn’t know you were a romantic, Lucanis.” She shakes her head. “No, the job was terrible. It was raining the whole way there and back. The weather made for inclement traveling so we were stuck in Orlais for longer than we expected.” Rook rolls her shoulders, as though recalling the job is stressful enough. “And we missed the mark. Several times, actually.” At this, Lucanis laughs so hard his stomach begins to hurt.

“I cannot imagine Viago missing.”

“He can’t either. So, both of us were pretty unhappy. Unhappiness turns to anger, and both of us were way too prideful to admit our own shortcomings, so we became angry at each other.” Rook smiles. “Put two crows who hate each other and are constantly drenched to the bone in the same room for seven weeks…”

“...And they’re bound to have sex.” Lucanis finishes the thought. 

“Exactly. It became an outlet. And then, when we got back to Antiva…” Rook shrugs. “It became routine. Viago likes his sex in a very, very particular way. There’s not a lot of people who are willing to do what he asks.”

“May I ask…” Lucanis blushes. “How does Viago like his sex? Because it seemed…” Lucanis stops himself, realizing that they now have to talk about that night. “Focused.” Rook nods. 

“Viago is very tightly bound. About everything, even simple pleasures. Like wine and art.” She gets up to pace as she talks. “He desires control over every single aspect of his life. He usually doesn’t get it, because being an assassin means that he has control over everything except his own life. I desire to let go. To trust someone enough to completely dominate me for one night and come out okay. It’s a reciprocal relationship.” Lucanis rubs his beard.

“So I’m assuming the bickering is part of that?” Rook furrows her brow in thought.

“Yes, and no. We bicker because I think it’s funny to wind him up, and he thinks he’s allowed to say everything that comes into his head.” Rook seems to recall something and blushes. “But winding him up, making him mad and pressing his buttons, that is part of it.” 

Rook stops to stand in front of Lucanis. “Is that what he meant by ‘learning your lesson’?” Lucanis seems too shy to even speak the words. She just nods, with a wry smile. “I see. Well.” He rubs his hands together awkwardly. “Thank you for being honest.”

Neither of them speak at first. When Lucanis looks up, he finds Rook already looking at him. She uses her calf to bump his legs apart, spreading them wide and allowing her to take a step closer to him. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Her voice goes low, acknowledging the tension that's been here since they started chatting.

“I–I want to…” Lucanis seems to form several sentences all at the same time. Instead, he breaks the barrier between the two of them and plants both hands on Rook’s hips, looking up at her. “There’s so many things I want to say.” Rook nods, taking the opportunity to rake her fingers through his hair. The same way she did with Viago.

“Maybe it’s my turn for questions?” Lucanis nods eagerly, grateful that she understands his inability to explain himself. “Did you like what you saw last night?” Lucanis groans, leaning forward to press his forehead against Rook’s abdomen.

“Maker, yes.” 

“Did you like me, or Viago?” Lucanis sucks in a breath. He closes his eyes, his fear of Rook realizing his silly little crushes. Plural. “...Did you like both of us?” All he can do is nod. Rook laughs, but doesn’t move away. “I understand. Watching attractive people have sex can do that.” Another beat of silence, both of them listening to the gentle waves of the surrounding fade.

“Did you want to join?” The question barely comes out as a whisper but it’s enough to make Lucanis go crazy. His loins tighten from the sexual line of questioning, remembering every single moment where he wondered how things would go if he were there. “I figured. Viago told me about the time you sent him a dagger. Both of you are incapable of reading inbetween the lines, it seems.” Lucanis blushes, hard. “I have a proposal for you.” At this, his grip on her hips becomes stronger in anticipation.

“Viago will probably come by again in a couple days. You can stop by, see how things go. See if there’s anything you’re interested in.” Rook is quick to add on, “But no pressure, though. Do whatever you feel comfortable with, I don’t want you to–”

“Would you like me there? If I…stopped by?” Lucanis slides his hands up, roaming over Rook’s back. She sighs listlessly, leaning into his touch. Lucanis’ hands are different from Viago’s; rough calluses, fingernails bitten raw, his touch yearning instead of easy. It makes Rook’s heart hiccup, wondering how long he wanted, needed something like this.

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” She says matter-of-factly. It takes a large amount of effort, but she untangles herself from him. “Let me talk to Viago. I can’t imagine he’d have any reservations.” She leans down and plants a chaste kiss onto Lucanis’ temple. When she turns to leave, Lucanis grabs her hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the knuckles he saw her kill with just a few hours ago.

“I await your call.”

Four days later, Lucanis paces around the library. It’s late, but time doesn’t mean much to him these days. He glances over at the charcuterie board he’s made, the wooden cutting board covered with brie, goat cheese, fontina, chocolate, and crackers. He looks up, towards Rook’s room, and his heart starts racing again like it did a few days ago. Is he really doing this? He could just leave, head back to the pantry, and forget this ever happened. Rook and Viago would continue on normally, like nothing ever happened, because they’re professionals. Lucanis supposed he was too, before all this. 

He picks up the tray and goes up the stairs, taking his time approaching Rook’s door to calm his nerves. When he looks down the hallway, he sees that she’s closed it this time. “Now they make me knock.” He sneers. As he gets closer, he can hear snippets of the conversation happening inside.

“I just think that…”

“Well, you usually…”

“...my fault?...”

Lucanis takes a slow breath out, completely emptying his lungs. This is real.

He knocks twice, a bit softly, and all conversation inside ceases. There’s some moving around, and a giggle that definitely belongs to Rook because Lucanis doesn’t think Viago has it in him to giggle before someone comes and opens the door. Lucanis thought Rook would have the grace to open the door herself.

She does not.

Viago’s in his casual wear, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he holds the door open at the top of the frame with one hand. “Lucanis.” He remarks, completely stone faced. Neither of the men say anything, but this close, Lucanis can smell Viago’s cologne. It’s more woody than Lucanis was expecting, with a lingering undertone of vanilla. 

“Viago.” Lucanis says. He holds up the charcuterie board, and Viago quirks an eyebrow. “I brought food.”

“I can see that.” The other man responds. Maker, this is awkward.

“Lucanis!” Rook remarks from inside the room, granting him entry despite Viago’s supposed disinterest. Did he not want him here?

“I brought food.” Lucanis repeats, and Rook smiles warmly. The chaise has a multitude of blankets spilling over it, and some pillows are on the floor too. The aquarium casts a deep blue light over everything, making Viago’s eyes seem black. Viago examines the board as Lucanis sets it down onto Rook’s table, next to his wine.

“Is that brie? And goat cheese?” The taller man questions. Lucanis shrugs, attempting to appear nonchalant. “Those pair well with pinot noir.” Viago adds, and again Lucanis shrugs.

“Rook mentioned it was your favorite.” She watches the two men talk with interest. Viago seems genuinely taken aback, picking up a cut of chocolate and brie, and then smelling it. Once he realizes that the heir apparent to First Talon gains nothing by poisoning him, he takes a bite.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Dellamorte?” Viago suddenly asks. Lucanis blushes, and looks away. He takes a moment to steel himself.

“That depends on if it’s working or not.” If he wanted, Lucanis could be suave. Perhaps he chooses not to. Viago doesn’t answer, but pours Lucanis a glass of wine and sits down on the floor near Rook. He motions to a cushion in between them.

“We were gossiping about other crows.” This is Lucanis’ last chance to leave and still have some semblance of normalcy with the two of them. He glances between them, noting how Viago loosens his collar and leans back on one arm. Rook’s smile is wide as she speaks to them, motioning excitedly at the latest news she’s heard about her fellow crows.

Lucanis cracks his neck, then sits down. He pretends not to notice how Rook’s smile widens. “Who were we talking about?” He takes a sip of wine, the warmth spreading down from his mouth all the way to his stomach. It’s dry, but the hints of fruit and acidity make up for it.

“Illario.” Viago grumbles, gesturing towards Rook. “She was recalling how they actually did meet once before, she just didn’t remember.” Lucanis turns towards Rook, who looks a bit bashful.

“You’ve met Illario?”

“Only once.” She responds, swirling her glass and taking a bite of cheese. “It was at a party, the Arainai one a decade ago. He looked so different!” She exclaims, and Lucanis chuckles.

“I believe that’s when he was curling his hair, correct?” Rook gasps and nods.

“Yes! Maker, it was awful. And he used so much product, I could smell him from a mile away. Everyone still followed him around, though.”

“Well, Illario has that effect on people.” Viago chimes in, leaning closer in towards Lucanis so that way he can fully take part in the conversation. “He could walk around in a potato sack and still get attention.” Rook laughs, snorting. 

“Viago, did you not use the same products in your hair?” Lucanis suddenly asks. Viago closes his eyes, his brow furrowing at Lucanis being able to recall something about him he’s pretty sure everyone else has forgotten.

“You did! I remember because it would take you hours to get ready when we were in Orlais!” The Orlais mission. Where this all began. Lucanis coughs as he tries to get the image of Viago and Rook together out of his head.

“My curls are natural.” Viago holds up a finger to both of them. “Illario faked them. It’s different.” Rook giggles so hard that she falls back onto the pile of blankets as Viago comes up with another defense. He’s passionate as he argues, gesturing wildly but never forgetting about the wine nor how he needs to take more sips of it. 

“If your curls are natural, then how come your hair is straight right now?” Rook asks, and Viago groans, bringing a hand to his forehead.

“Keeping it neat is good for appearances. As Fifth Talon, I can’t afford to appear messy.” Rook nods, but she remains unconvinced. 

“It is natural.” Lucanis chimes in, making Viago and Rook turn to him. Viago waves in Lucanis’ direction, moving in closer as he gets more and more heated.

“Well, I’ll believe Lucanis. But not you.” She sits up, propping herself up with one arm and leaning on her side.

“His hair gets curly when he sweats.” Lucanis adds, and this makes Viago pause in the middle of a bite. Rook says nothing, but smirks into her wine glass as the cogs churn in Viago’s head. “Not that I’m only looking at you when you sweat, it’s just–Maker, are we arguing about Viago’s hair?” Rook’s smile is easy, here. Perhaps with these two she can pretend to be just a crow, and not the leader of their small pack against the world.

“It’s a good head of hair.” Rook whispers, sitting up and moving closer to the men. There’s a distinct shift in the air, one that makes Lucanis put his wine glass down and pull away at his vest that suddenly feels too tight. Viago doesn’t initially respond, only taking another bite of cheese. She gasps. “Don’t I get a compliment?” It’s mocking him, but Viago allows himself to fall into the trap; he chuckles.

“What would you like to hear?” Viago asks, tilting his head and teasing her. Lucanis is a spectator to this dance they do, the push and pull of “will they, won’t they”. 

“Hmm…” Rook dramatically thinks, tapping her chin. “Don’t you think I’m funny?”

“Only when I’m laughing at you.”

Rook pouts. “Well, what about my charm?” 

Viago laughs. “That was actually funny.” 

Lucanis can’t help but smile at how Rook crawls even closer, shrinking the distance between the trio. “Surely you must like something about me.” Lucanis is completely enamored with her. He likes everything about Rook, but he’s not the one answering the question. When he looks at Viago, he’s shocked to find his expression has completely changed from when he first entered the room. His eyes are full of spark, his smile sideways as he carefully considers Rook’s flirting. Somewhere along the way, he’s even unbuttoned the top of his shirt, exposing a scant amount of chest hair that makes Lucanis’ stomach do somersaults. 

Viago moves a hand onto Rook’s thigh and pulls her closer, onto his lap. “I like your collarbones.” He finally answers. Rook rolls her eyes, but doesn’t move away as Viago’s hand slips under her shirt to expose his aforementioned favorite part of Rook. He ghosts his hand over her skin, and both of them notice how Rook shivers underneath his touch. “Lucanis, what is your favorite part of Rook?” 

An invitation to join. Lucanis seriously considers the question for a moment, but realizes Viago is giving him an in. He sits up and crawls behind Rook, between Viago’s legs. “I like her neck.” He simply answers, and Viago hums, nodding. Lucanis presses his palms into Rook’s trapezius muscles, noticing how she relaxes under the pressure and leans back into him.

“I’ve noticed.” Viago responds, smiling at how Lucanis gets nervous once he recalls their last visit to the Cantori Diamond. “It seems you have a knack for observation, Lucanis.” Viago leans forward, planting a kiss onto Rook’s chest, looking up to watch how her brows knit just so when his lips touch her. His eyes fall to Lucanis, pupils blown wide and hands massaging Rook. Viago pulls back, making her whine from the sudden cold. “Our safeword is saffron. Use it when you need to.” Viago says, and Lucanis nods. “Good. Now kiss.” He doesn’t ask, he commands.

Rook turns to look over her shoulder at Lucanis. Her lips are pursed and glossy, her shirt falling off of one shoulder. Lucanis has to hold himself back from absolutely devouring her completely. He hesitates, unsure what to do with his hands, but settles for cradling Rook’s face. He presses his lips to her’s, gently like they have all the time in the world. Rook is not surprised by Lucanis’ softness, allowing him to lead and take his time doing whatever he wants to do. Viago intently watches, studying how Lucanis seems to shake a little when Rook places a hand on his arm. He can feel Rook’s core heating up in his lap, how her hips buck whenever Viago shifts underneath her and his erection rubs against her thigh. 

Viago unexpectedly moves his hands to Rook’s waist, rubbing affectionately and steadying her, making her moan into Lucanis’ kiss; it’s enough to completely break him. He removes his hands only for a moment to rip off his vest, but his lips never leave her’s. Rook takes a risk, and opens her mouth slightly allowing Lucanis in. He accepts the offer, fervently and needily, their tongues moving with each other and becoming more desperate by the second. Without opening her eyes, Rook uses her free hand to grab Viago by the shirt and pull him up, mere inches away from Lucanis’ face. Rook, sandwiched between the two men, tilts her head away from them. “Your turn.” Her voice is hoarse. Lucanis looks at Viago, whose harsh stare stokes the fire inside him even more. When his brown, doe eyes flick between Viago’s lips and hard glare, unable to be the one who makes the first move, Viago shakes his head before diving in.

Viago kisses like it might be his last night alive. He takes instead of gives, keeping one hand on Rook’s waist and moving the other to the back of Lucanis’ neck to pull him closer. One of them groans, Rook isn’t sure who, but it’s enough to make her roll her hips against Viago and her backside against Lucanis. Lucanis shudders when Viago presses his tongue into his mouth, unapologetic in getting what he wants. Rook unbuttons Viago’s shirt for him, her hands roving over his hard chest as he breathes in Lucanis like he’s his only source of air. When they break apart, it’s only so Lucanis can do the same, exposing his abdomen and how the hair that covers his muscles travels down, to his happy trail, and then disappears under his trousers. 

Viago and Rook take the opportunity to get reacquainted with each other, her arms stretching over his shoulders as he turns his attention to her. Their kiss is immediately all passion, tongue, and teeth; Rook even bites his lip, making Viago’s brow furrow. Lucanis watches as Rook wraps her legs around Viago’s waist, how his large hands grab onto her back. He begins to palm himself through his pants, his thighs tightening from the slight pressure. Viago peels Rook’s shirt off, exposing her naked chest, and he tilts his head, frowning. “No bra?” Rook shrugs.

“I always get what I want.” When she looks at Lucanis, her smile is deadly. “Stand up. Both of you.” Viago huffs, not used to being the one that takes orders, but obliges her. Rook kneels in front of them and uses both hands to stroke their clothed erections, making them tense. Viago takes her hand off of him, and whips his belt off, shimmying out of his pants and briefs in one fell swoop. He’s already leaking pre-cum, his tip red from the lack of stimulation.

“Stop teasing.” He tangles his hand into Rook’s hair, pulling her face towards his cock. Viago uses his hand to push her back and forth, occasionally making Rook gag as he hits the back of her throat. Lucanis slowly strips, distracted by the two of them completely. Once he’s naked, he guides Rook’s hand to him, gasping as she grips onto him. While she swirls her tongue around Viago, she pumps her hand over Lucanis, using her thumb to swipe over his tip occasionally just so she can hear how he whines. Viago steals a glance over at Lucanis, watching how his stomach flexes with every stroke from Rook. To his credit, he allows Rook to come up for air. 

She turns her attention to Lucanis, raising her eyes to his as she slowly takes him entirely into her mouth. He stretches one hand behind his head, every muscle in his arm contorting. He notices how Viago hisses in pleasure at this, and breathlessly laughs. “Are you a fan of my arms, Viago?” Rook flattens her tongue, licking a long strip from Lucanis’ balls to his tip. 

“I’m a fan of watching a beautiful woman go down on a beautiful man. The muscles are a nice side benefit.” Lucanis can’t deny that he blushes at the compliment, still shy in spite of his current station. He uses his other hand to brush Rook’s hair out of her face, holding the few strands that stick back with a loose grip. Rook nods, out of appreciation or arousal Lucanis can’t tell. With a satisfied sigh, she pulls away, Lucanis grunting at the sudden lack of warmth. But ever the gentleman, he offers a strong grip when Rook decides to stand. Wordlessly, she moves past the men and sits on the small bed, slipping out of her pajama pants along the way.

She spreads her legs, using her index and middle finger to spread her lips too, giving them a full view of their very near future. Lucanis bites his knuckles to stifle the noise that escapes him. “I want to watch Lucanis try.” She dips a finger in between her folds, bucking at the stimulation. 

Lucanis aims to please; he turns to Viago and gets on his knees, practically drooling at his length. “He can certainly try.” Viago drawls, running his fingers through Lucanis’ mullet. “I won’t play nice, though.” Viago grabs himself and pumps a couple times. “Open.” He commands. Lucanis tentatively agrees, sticking his tongue out; Viago slaps his tip in Lucanis’ mouth, smearing pre-cum onto his lips. He thrusts shallowly into Lucanis’ mouth, allowing him to adjust to his size. Lucanis doesn’t think he’s ever been as hard as he is right now, but knowing Viago he denies himself the pleasure of masturbation. Instead, he rests his arms on his thighs, arching his back for a better angle. 

“He follows instructions well.” Viago pulls Lucanis’ head back, forcing him to look up at the man. Lucanis chokes at the new angle, Viago hitting the top of his throat and momentarily cutting off his air. “Just a bit longer. You can do that, right?” Lucanis nods eagerly, spit dripping out of his mouth and tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Good boy.” 

Rook isn’t even touching herself anymore, just enjoying the show these two are putting on. She watches in awe as Lucanic copies her, circling Viago’s tip with his tongue and even flicking the sensitive slit. Viago’s stomach clenches, twitching into Lucanis’ mouth. “Just like that–doing such a good job.”

“You know, I think you’re nicer to him than me.” Viago laughs at Rook’s remark, sliding an eye open to the woman on the couch.

“Because I don’t have to worry about Lucanis the moment he leaves Treviso.” Rook stands, moving behind Viago to try and gain some semblance of his point of view. She slides her hands over his abs, tickling him as they settle where his thighs and stomach meet. The touch makes Viago thrust harshly into Lucanis’ mouth.

“You worry about me?” Rook murmurs against his skin, using one hand to join Lucanis in pleasing Viago. She grips the base of his arousal, lewdly spitting onto her palm and rubbing, occasionally dipping her fingers underneath to tease him. The added help allows Lucanis to focus on Viago’s head, where he’s the most sensitive. Viago’s jaw clenches at the sensation, his hands tangled in Lucanis’ hair flexing with every move from the man beneath him and the woman behind him.

“In my own way.” Viago admits, rolling his eyes at how he can feel Rook smile against him. “If you actually completed any contracts, I wouldn’t have to–” He falters when Rook slaps his tip against Lucanis’ tongue the way he did. 

“You talk too much.” Rook lets go of Viago, moving to stand over Lucanis as well. He glances up at Rook, his eyes grazing over her naked form so he can remember each curve and dip. He’s unsure if this will happen again, if Rook would ever want him without the added benefit of Viago. Would she give this up just to have him, entirely and by himself? He moves without warning, shifting his body to kneel in front of Rook instead, resting his chin against her and bringing a hand up in between her thighs. He dips a finger into her folds carefully, unsure of what exactly to do but hoping that his adoration for her will outshine his lack of experience.

Rook gasps at the sudden touch, her arousal coating Lucanis’ fingers. He’s careful yet curious, watching how her mouth forms an “O” shape at certain places, or how her little gasps turn to moans when he places just the right amount of pressure in other places. He presses his thumb against her clitoris, making Rook keen over and grip his face, pulling his mouth closer to where his fingers dexterously work. “Lucanis, please.” She moans, his name on her lips making his heart soar.

“Nothing would bring me greater pleasure.” He mumbles, dipping his mouth between her legs and tentatively taking a taste of Rook. It’s everything that he dreamed of, the way her fingers pull his hair, how her legs tremble around his face, how her eyes tighten close when Lucanis laps at her sex. Lucanis grips her thigh and lifts it, draping her leg over his shoulder and granting him further access. Unconsciously, Rook starts grinding on his face, his beard and mustache rubbing against the inside of her thighs softly. He takes a risk and moves his tongue lower to her entrance, teasing the inside of her hole with his mouth. Rook bucks even harder, chanting Lucanis’ name like how he used to chant the Maker’s in the Ossuary.

Lucanis has made the unfortunate mistake of letting Viago out of his sight. He’s unsure when, but the other man has crouched down behind Lucanis on his knees as well. He feels Viago’s long fingers trail the expanse of his back as his mouth latches onto Rook’s clit. Viago’s hands travel lower, then lower, until they’re cupping Lucanis’ ass. Lucanis’ brow furrows in pleasure when Viago spanks him, hard. Viago rubs the red, hand shaped welt beginning to form on Lucanis appreciatively before he moves in between Lucanis’ legs. He spits on his index and middle finger, creating some form of lubrication for Lucanis because Viago knows the man will need it.

With a surprising amount of care, Viago circles Lucanis’ hole. Lucanis isn’t unfamiliar with the sensation, but it’s another thing entirely for Viago to be the one performing this on him. Lucanis arches his back at the pleasure, pushing himself further between Rook’s legs. Viago takes things slowly, only rubbing the rim and adding a very small amount of pressure when Lucanis presses back against his fingers. The stimulation makes Lucanis moan wildly into Rook’s pussy, those vibrations in turn driving Rook even crazier. “Tell me if it’s too much.” Viago whispers, leaning over Lucanis and kissing his shoulder.

With as much restraint as he can muster, Viago pushes a finger inside of Lucanis. It’s enough to make Lucanis pull his mouth away from Rook and start kissing her thighs, the pleasure from both ends almost being too much for him. Viago winces against Lucanis’ skin, the tightness almost being enough to drive Viago to the edge and fuck him right now. Rook pets Lucanis’ hair lovingly, her touch enough to calm him down and focus on how the pain slowly ebbs into just pleasure. Viago works Lucanis’ hole for a while, giving him time to adjust to the idea of being filled, his tongue and teeth lapping at Lucanis’ neck. 

Lucanis returns his attention back to Rook, his passion for learning how to eat her out reignited by Viago’s fingers. The tip of his tongue circles her clitoris, noting how Rook enjoys more attention to the bundle of nerves than she does to any other part of her anatomy. She sighs with relief when Lucanis follows Viago’s guidance and drives a finger inside of Rook, his mouth still working her outer folds. Viago adds another finger inside of Lucanis, stretching the man to prepare him for the inevitable. It takes everything within Lucanis to relax and loosen up, as he expected this would happen, but actually having to practice to take Viago wholly is a different beast.

Viago’s pace quickens, the tension within Lucanis’ loins making his chest heave under the pressure of his impending orgasm. Rook is clearly close too, her hips snapping as she starts to fuck Lucanis’ face to chase her release. Lucanis relents, sticking his tongue out so Rook can use him however she wants. His nose bumps against her clit, and when Lucanis is finally able to open his eyes since Viago started fingering him, the sight of Rook is almost enough to push him completely over the edge. She’s sticky with sweat, her hands steadying Lucanis to give her more leverage and her nails digging into his scalp. Her pupils are blown out from arousal, making her eyes appear almost black. Her attention is entirely on Lucanis, the way he looks underneath her, how he moans partially from his own pleasure but also from her’s. “Lucanis, I’m so close–”

And just like that, Viago pulls out completely from Lucanis. The lack of stimulation makes Lucanis groan in frustration, turning around to glower at Viago. Rook, also denied of her orgasm, glares at Viago. While the looks from both assassins could probably kill most people, Viago is not most people. “Rook, lay down.” He commands, standing up briefly to grab a condom from her bedside table. She obeys him, grabbing a cushion and placing it underneath her lower back. Lucanis has yet to move, and with this view of Rook, he’s not sure he’ll ever want to leave. She instinctively wraps her legs around Lucanis’ hips, their two cores at the same height. He remembers something Viago did when he watched, and lowers his cock to Rook’s heat, slowly rubbing the shaft in between her lips. She squirms, her ankles latching together against Lucanis’ back. He presses his tip to her clit, adding just enough pressure to not completely slip inside, but enough so Rook’s back arches off the ground and her hands fly to Lucanis’ arms.

Viago rejoins them, slotting himself behind Lucanis between his legs while he slides the condom on. Lucanis moves to stand to grab one himself, but Rook stops him. “Don’t worry. Viago’s just a clean freak about certain…” She turns her head to the side. “Holes.” Lucanis blushes with understanding, and continues rutting against Rook. Her nails leave marks in his flesh, and she groans in anger. “Any day now, Viago!” He looks over Lucanis’ shoulder and tuts at Rook.

“So desperate.” Is all he says while removing Lucanis’ hand from his own cock. Viago grabs Lucanis’ member, now rubbing it against Rook. “May I?” He asks, and Lucanis enthusiastically nods. Viago guides Lucanis to Rook’s entrance, sinking Lucanis into her walls at an agonizing pace. Lucanis and Rook moan at the same time, his palms gripping her thighs just to pull her against him even more. 

He’s never felt this before, and although it’s probably obvious to Rook and Viago, they’re gracious enough to not say anything as he bites his bottom lip to hold the moans that threaten to spill out of his mouth and closes his eyes in fear of ejaculating early. It’s hot, hotter than his hand during the late nights spent in the Lighthouse where he’d lay there and think of Rook in this exact position just to get a few hours of rest. And tight, tighter than his collar when he’d look at Viago all those years ago across a banquet table and find his hard stare already fixed onto Lucanis. “Gracias a Hacedor–” The Spanish tumbles out from Lucanis before he realizes, his babbling more incoherent the deeper Viago moves Lucanis inside.

When he’s fully sheathed in Rook, her thighs plush against his, he stills for a moment, his brow knit in an emotion unreadable by Viago or Rook. He breathes in through his nose, out his mouth, Viago letting go of Lucanis and moving back behind him. “Lucanis? You okay?” Rook asks, worried.

“Yes.” Lucanis still has not opened his eyes.

“Are you sure? We can stop–”

“Please, no.” Lucanis whines. Viago chuckles from behind him.

“Is it everything you imagined, Lucanis?” Viago whispers into his ear, his own cock prodding against Lucanis. 

“It’s–” Lucanis gulps, every twitch of his body sending shocks down his spine. “It’s better. So much better.” Rook shifts underneath him, her own arousal mounting along with Lucanis’. 

“Rook usually likes to hear how good she feels.” Viago’s breath against Lucanis’ ear has him spinning, but he’s still grounded enough to catch the obvious hint. Lucanis cautiously opens one eye, then the other, returning to the situation at hand. He looks at where their two bodies meet, his shaft disappearing inside her, and almost comes right there. His eyes roam over Rook’s body, memorizing how she looks underneath him now, how her lips tremble at the smallest movement from Lucanis. Moving a hand to her face, he strokes her cheek with his thumb and brushes some of her hair out of the way. She smiles up at him, small and soft, like even now she’s afraid that he won’t like what he sees. Or maybe it’s that, in this moment, she sees Lucanis for who he is completely and won’t look away, despite everything.

“You’re beautiful.” Lucanis says, ignoring how absolutely wonderful she feels wrapped around him. Rook glances away, tilting her head as though her beauty and grace are something to be ashamed of. Gently, Lucanis uses his thumb to guide her gaze back to his, and he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead. “May I?” Lucanis asks for permission to move. Rook nods, her hands moving to his and intertwining their fingers together.

When Lucanis first pulls out and thrusts inside her, he’s almost certain he won’t last longer than two minutes. He’s unsure how he’ll live without this for the rest of his life, Rook’s whines and gasps making his head spin. His hips slap against her’s, trying to find a comfortable rhythm that won’t make him come without warning. “Don’t start without me.” Viago grumbles, lining himself up with Lucanis’ entrance and finding a grip on Lucanis’ hips. Lucanis stills once again, completely inside Rook, knowing that if he was moving while Viago first pressed inside him he would surely release his arousal in mere seconds.

Viago’s tip presses against Lucanis’ hole, and he slowly moves past Lucanis’ rim to his warm insides. Both men let out guttural moans, Lucanis more so, Viago taking as much time as he wants to completely fill the other man. Lucanis’ hands tighten within Rook’s, squeezing her so hard that her fingertips turn red for a moment. “So good, so good for me…” Viago mumbles, beginning to move back and forth inside Lucanis. While Lucanis has more girth than Viago, Viago is long, longer than anything Lucanis has ever put inside himself. His thrusts push and pull Lucanis inside Rook, doing all the work for him, the overstimulation almost too much for Lucanis. 

Viago finds a rhythm more quickly than Lucanis, the experienced man laughing at the state of the one sandwiched between him and Rook. “Can’t take it Lucanis? You can always tap out, you know. Settle for watching, like you usually do.” The challenge is enough to make Lucanis rise to the occasion. He matches Viago’s tempo, the sound of skin slapping skin almost drowning out how all three moan lewdly. Viago takes control, angling his hips up to hit Lucanis’ prostate, attempting to break Lucanis’ concentration on not coming. Lucanis cusses, out of arousal and anger.

“You’re not–not being fair.” He whines, pressing his face into the crook of Rook’s neck and biting down. She gasps, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close.

“Hard to be, when you look like this.” Viago traces Lucanis’ back muscles, watching how they go taunt with every touch. He briefly interlocks his hand with Rook, squeezing her palm in appreciation before increasing his speed. “How does it feel, Lucanis? Use your words.” Lucanis is silent, the only thoughts he’s able to comprehend fully being Rook and Viago, earning another spank from Viago. He pulls up, away from Rook, leaning against Viago’s chest and tilting his head to make eye contact with him.

“Incredible. You–She–Both of you feel incredible.” Viago looks down at Rook, raising an eyebrow, asking if she deems his answer acceptable or not. She smiles and nods, lifting her legs so that her feet rest on Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago is relentless; he kisses Lucanis, his tongue moving in tandem with his and growling when Lucanis moans into his mouth. Rook reaches a hand down between her own legs and stimulates herself, her core tightening in pleasure not only at the sight of Viago and Lucanis but also at how her fingers rub against her clitoris perfectly. Lucanis stutters at the new sensation, breaking the kiss to moan her name. “I’m…I’m close–”

“Just a little longer, Lucanis.” Viago’s teeth are gritted, his own orgasm now imminent as well.

“I can’t–” Lucanis’ hips stutter again. He starts to imagine how it’d feel to completely empty himself inside of Rook, what it looked like when Viago did the same, how he said he’d breed her–

Viago pulls out completely. Lucanis gasps at the sudden feeling of emptiness, how it’s almost painful, and stills inside of Rook. Viago uses his strength to pull Lucanis out of her, and stands over the other two, taking the condom off. Maker, if this is what Rook went through every time she had sex with him, Lucanis could see why she was hell bent on annoying the shit out of him everywhere else. Tears form in the corner of his eyes, his cock being so sensitive from his two denied orgasms that it hurts. “Lucanis, lay down.” If Viago feels bad, he certainly doesn’t let it show. Rook wipes Lucanis’ tears away, sympathetic to his plight, and helps him lay down on the chaise. Viago grabs another condom and slides it on while Rook shifts on top of Lucanis, resting on his upper thigh to give him more time to rest. 

No one speaks, but they move as one, Viago coming up behind Rook much like he did with Lucanis, and picking her hips up so that her core rests on top of Lucanis’ member. She gasps with Lucanis, his hands coming up to grab at anything, eventually finding her thighs. Rook and Viago look down at him, watching as she raises her hips and tantalizingly lowers herself onto Lucanis, his moans increasing in volume as he finds himself back inside of her. Lucanis’ eyes flit between the two of them, how Viago kisses Rook’s neck, how his hands grab her breasts from behind. Viago licks a long strip from her shoulder to her neck, making Rook shudder. 

Maker, this is addicting. They’re addicting.

Rook bounces on top of him, the sounds from where their bodies meet so obscene that Lucanis blushes at the idea of anyone walking by her room at this hour. She leans down and kisses Lucanis, her whimpers against his lips making him grunt in anticipation of his orgasm. He wraps his arms around her and begins to pound up, taking control for the first time since the night began. Rook wails in surprise, biting down onto Lucanis’ lip so hard she draws blood. 

Viago presses against her other entrance, only giving a few seconds of warning before he sheathes himself inside of her completely in one motion. It’s enough to knock the air out of her, her arms tightening around Lucanis’ neck for support as she puts her entire weight onto him. Viago would never admit it, but he’s as sensitive right now as the other two are. The way his cock feels inside Rook, how he can feel Lucanis move in and out of her, how Lucanis’ and Rook’s lips move against each other sloppily is almost enough to make him come right now. He holds onto the last shred of his self control, his hands gripping onto Rook’s ass and spreading her cheeks apart to get a better look. He makes a noise in between a chuckle and a moan, watching how Lucanis’ and his cocks move in tandem with each other, one pulling out while the other pushes in.

“How are you feeling, Viago?” Lucanis mutters, breaking his kiss with Rook briefly to speak. Viago’s eyes roam up the expanse of Rook’s back to Lucanis’ face, where he sees a string of spit connecting the two of them. Lucanis’ lips are red and glossy, his entire face scrunched up in concentration. Viago laughs at Lucanis’ question, the tables now turned on him as he struggles to find the words.

“Never better.” Is his response, each word punctuated by a particularly hard thrust. “Rook? You okay?” He asks. She doesn’t speak, merely groaning in affirmation against Lucanis’ shoulder. Viago decides to let it slide for now. All of his thoughts are dominated by this moment: the sound of their bodies moving against each other, the taste of Rook and Lucanis’ lips against his, the feeling of Rook’s body being able to take both of them. Lucanis seems to be a natural at this, his hands finding Rook’s hips once again and moving them for her when she can’t. She is completely fucked out of her mind, which is exactly where Viago wants her. “Perfect.” He whispers, low enough that even Lucanis can’t hear.

It’s only a few more thrusts from both of them when Rook chimes in. “I’m gonna–” She pauses when Lucanis winces in pleasure, her voice enough to bring him to completion. “–Gonna come.” Viago pushes his hair out of his face before leaning down over the other two. The motion presses his cock inside of her against Lucanis’, whose eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I’m close too.” He stammers out, nerves almost getting the better of him when Viago’s hard stare flicks to him. “Please, Viago…” His heart flips when he remembers how Rook said the exact same thing just a couple days ago. It feels like a lifetime ago now. Viago considers the both of them, his abdomen tensing as he also comes close to the edge. While he could go at this for hours, unfortunately for all three of them they have lives to return to. He moves his lips mere inches away from Lucanis’, teasing him with the promise of a kiss. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, pressing his mouth against Lucanis’ as the other two practically sigh in relief, finally being allowed to orgasm. The way Viago grunts into Lucanis’ mouth is enough to tip him over, spilling himself into Rook’s messy cunt. The feeling of Lucanis’ seed being released in her makes Rook clench hard around the both of them, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Her thighs tremble as Lucanis continues to fuck her through his own orgasm, ensuring nothing is wasted. Viago is the last to finish, pressing a final harsh thrust into her as he comes. Lucanis’ tongue moves with Viago’s, his cock still shallowly thrusting into her as her release starts to subside. 

There’s a long, long break before anyone moves. Viago pulls out, careful not to hurt Rook, pressing a kiss against her ear. “You were perfect. An absolute dream.” He mutters, tasting the sweat that sticks to her body. Lucanis picks Rook up for a moment, only to also pull out, before setting her down gently on top of him. The only thing he can hear is Rook’s breath against his neck, and her heart beating against his chest. It hammers loudly although her breathing is slowed, a cheap shot at calming her entire body down so that way she’ll be able to actually stand tomorrow morning. Lucanis’ hands stroke through her hair, pulling her so close that their bodies could almost meld into one.

Viago bends down, pressing his knee into the chaise, and spreads Rook’s legs, using his thumb to slip inside her vagina and groaning a long chain of curses when Lucanis’ cum drips out of her. Rook jumps at his touch, still sensitive after being rutted against by the two of them. When Viago removes his fingers from inside her, Rook sighs in relief, but cries out once more when Viago attaches his mouth to her core instead. His tongue digs inside her, pulling more of Lucanis’ seed out of her and into his mouth.

She pushes herself up onto her hands and arches her back, moaning deliciously while Viago grips her backside and spreads her even more. While he grunts into her, his mouth against her wet cunt creates such crass sounds that Lucanis breathlessly laughs in equal parts embarrassment but also arousal. Viago swallows everything he can get, uncaring whether it came from Rook or Lucanis. He laps at her outer folds, his mouth sucking on her sensitive bud and forcing Rook to cover her mouth so she doesn’t scream.

Finally, Viago relents, pulling his mouth away from her core with a satisfying pop. Lucanis gazes at him in amazement, the other man standing over the two and his icy stare meeting Lucanis’ wide eyed face. He notices how some of Lucanis’ release drips down his own chin; and without breaking eye contact, swipes his thumb across his face and licks, swallowing deeply. Lucanis’ cock jumps at the mere sight of Viago consuming a part of him, all while Rook’s body presses against him in all the right places.

Lucanis brings a weary hand to his face and rubs his eyes, sighing. “You’re going to kill me.” Again, he’s unsure who exactly he’s speaking to.

[kiyo-cant-write]

Could I have request for first year? You can choose them. About reader inviting to go out with them? Anything, probably going to park or go to restaurant. I'm a sucker for romance.

inviting the first years on a date ✧･ﾟ

.

Hello anon! I am so sorry this took me so long. I write fics with every character/scenario so doing the whole set of first years was a lot of fics, a lot of words. I hope each one is good! I love the first years, especially my boys Epel, Ortho, and Deuce! ^^

Thank you for requesting and feel free to request again!!

.

Summary: The reader asks the first years to go on a date. Includes all first years for headcanons and scenarios. This means that it includes: Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Ortho Shroud, and Sebek Zigvolt.

TW/CW: None

Notes: established relationship, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns used for the reader, the reader is also a first-year/frosh (implied ~16ish)

Guest Stars: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Trey Clover, Rook Hunt, Malleus Draconia

.

.

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Ace Trappola

Ace agrees right off the bat. He doesn't bat an eye.

He's even a little miffed [Name] asked him first.

He was planning to ask [Name] out, you know!

But it doesn't matter, the date's happening either way :)

Ace suggests that he and [Name] sneak out.

Something about not wanting to deal with the housewardens.

Even if [Name] protests, Ace will insist on sneaking about.

It's not a good idea but Ace had it so... it's impulsive.

"Come on, [Nickname]," Ace whispered to [Name], "You're gonna get us caught. You want to go on a date or not?"

Trying to make as little sound as possible, Ace came back towards [Name] to help them untangle themself from an unfortunately placed bush that had snagged their clothing. He held an index finger to his lips as he shushed them once more.

He still couldn't believe they asked him out first. The gall.

"If you want to go out at night like this," he continued, "Then you need to get better at sneaking around. Want to get collared?"

"I'm not part of your dorm," [Name] whispered back.

"That doesn't save you anything."

[Name] was about to retort but paused to consider it.

"Yeah," they agreed with a laugh, you're right."

Ace sighed. They were going to make this difficult, huh? If they got caught then what was it all for. Caught before they could even go on the date? That's just... kind of sad.

"Shh! No laughing until we're away from the main building."

"Fine, fine," they agreed, "We'd better not get detention for this."

The last time they had gone with an "Ace Plan" it had caused a week's worth of detention for both of them. The professors did not take kindly to Ace's schemes. They seemed almost disappointed that [Name] was involved with it too, but that didn't spare [Name] from detention.

"Relax, you worry too much. What are you, Deuce?"

[Name] laughed again and Ace covered their mouth with his hand. They moved his hand away a second later to respond.

"I like to think I've got more guts than Deuce."

"Good, then act like it," Ace told them, leading them toward the school gates, "We're gonna have an adventure tonight."

[Name] gave Ace a look. What was he talking about? Going out to the city after dark was their idea for a date. Why was Ace talking big?

"Wasn't this date my idea?" they asked him.

"Yeah, but I can't let you upstage me all the time." Ace smiled at them as he spoke, "I'm gonna get you back for that tenfold."

"For what?"

"Doesn't matter," he responded, taking their hand in his, "Let's go!"

They really loved this guy, even if it meant all the detentions and magic-removing collars in the world. Smiling along with him, [Name] squeezed Ace's hand as they let him lead their way.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Deuce Spade

Deuce swears in front of [Name].

"Holy shit."

And then he covers his mouth right after, begging to do it over.

He didn't mean to say it, it was just his instinctual thought!!

Deuce's brain is composed of a long list of curse words and a perpetual fear of being expelled from Night Raven (again).

He tells [Name] that he would be glad to go on a date with them.

Deuce confides that he hasn't been on a date before because of his past in which he thought he was too much of a "bad boy" for that.

He's oddly excited about the date, in a way that makes him seem younger than he already is at sixteen.

Unlike Ace (previous scenario), Deuce thinks that he should ask his upperclassman, so he seeks out Trey in the kitchen.

Deuce, face burning red, led [Name] by hand through the halls of Heartslabyul Dorm. They were headed toward the kitchen to find the bespectacled man who would (hopefully) grant them permission to go on their date. Or, that was about how Deuce explained it and [Name] was just in for the ride now that Deuce had apparently broken some kind of honor student's vow by swearing in front of them.

"Please tell me you're not asking for Trey-san's blessing."

"What?" Deuce turned to look at them, "No! We need to ask permission if we want to go into town."

"We're going into town?" [Name] asked him.

This was far more than they had planned. Deuce nodded. If they were going on a date, a real date, Deuce wanted it to count. And from all the varying media he had consumed in his young life... going on a date meant going into town and doing... Uh. Cute couple-y things.

"I want this to be perfect," Deuce confessed, clearly trying to be cool but failing due to the redness of his cheeks, "You know?"

[Name] nodded.

"Right, perfect, yeah," they agreed.

The two arrived at the doorway into the kitchen of Heartslabyul.

"Clover-senpai?" Deuce asked, poking his head in to see Trey at work mixing some kind of batter, "Do you have a minute?"

[Name] poked in after Deuce, smiling at the smell of sugar from Trey's baking. They hoped they might get some of whatever it was.

"Hm? A minute or two, sure," Trey offered, smiling as he looked toward them, "What's up?"

"Uh," Deuce began, "[Name] and I..."

"[Name] and you...?"

"We were wondering if we could go on a date?"

"I mean, that seems like your decision, not mine," Trey said, teasing the boy for his phrasing just a bit, "But I assume you mean going into town?"

"Ah. Yes!"

Deuce nodded, trying to hide the fact that the redness that had faded was back in full bloom. [Name] felt a bit bad for him and decided to help.

"We wanted to make sure it was alright to go off campus," [Name] added, "Don't want to break any rules. So we came to ask you."

Trey just laughed softly at the two of them.

"It's fine with me, I'll let Riddle know," he told Deuce and [Name], "I assume you'd rather not write the essay to him yourselves."

Deuce nodded once more, looking at [Name] and urging them to nod too. Writing an essay for Riddle was never a fun task. It took more time to write the stupid essay than to do the thing you were writing the essay about.

"Thank you, Clover-senpai," Deuce said, bowing to him.

"Mhm! Thanks, Trey!" [Name] agreed as they mimicked Deuce's action.

Trey smiled at the two underclassmen of his.

"Heh, you two have fun."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Jack Howl

Jack is at a loss for words. [Name] wants to go on a date with him?

What is the protocol here?

Part of him wants to ask Leona as an upperclassman...

But then the other guys will laugh at him!!! :(

He nods slowly, face tinged a red slightly.

He agrees to the date and says it would be rude to say "no."

Despite the somewhat gruff answer, his tail is wagging.

If it's pointed out, he will flat-out deny it as it wags faster.

Jack would rather die than let the other guys tease him about his date but God does not favor dogboys today.

In the end though... Leona is a smart guy...

Jack wasn't sure what to do. What do you do when you're asked on a date by the person you like? Do you say "yes"? He wanted to panic, just a tad. This was beyond his typical day, not something that he was used to. Did he have anywhere to turn for advice?

He could ask Leona... No, then Ruggie would laugh at him.

The wolf sighed, composing himself as he turned back to [Name].

"Uh, sure. I'll go with you," he told them.

That wasn't what he wanted to say but that sure was what he said. He had wanted to seem happier about it but his tone wouldn't allow it. Jack found that it was hard to sound how he was feeling. How did the actors in those movies do it? He couldn't express how he was feeling, how could he do that with another person's feelings?

[Name] had just smiled and him and told him they were looking forward to it before they took their leave. What did he do now? Jack was sure there was more to this whole dating business...

But where to start...

"Leona-senpai," Jack said, finding himself in the botanical garden later that same day, "Do you think that people can understand you from a sentence?"

The lion was sleeping or rather he was trying to while Jack asked him questions. It was luck that Jack had been asked to fetch something from the garden for class.

"What?" Leona offered, opening an eye to look at Jack, "Jack, I have no idea what in the fuck you're on about."

"Do you think [Name] understood me?" Jack asked.

"I mean if they're still going on the date, probably," Leona said, closing his eyes with a sigh, "This is one of those things time will tell or whatever. Just go on the date and see what happens."

"You sure?"

"I am. So stop asking me how [Name] feels and get back to class. You need it."

Jack tried to ignore that obvious snub from a guy who was skipping most of his classes on any given day. But... Leona was right. He had to go on this date and see what became of his relationship with [Name] from there. "...Thanks."

"Whatever, can you go now?"

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Epel Felmier

Epel's first comment is that he would love to go on an outing.

He isn't embarrassed and doesn't think it's a "date" at first.

When [Name] clarifies that it is a date, Epel blushes.

"Ah? Well, if ya want to go somewhere with me, let's do it!"

Even though he feels a bit shy about it, he's still enthusiastic.

Depending on the outing, his energy may return during the date.

Epel thanks [Name] for giving him an out from Vil's makeup lessons. He didn't want to learn about blending properly today.

Mentioning his housewarden he realizes he'll need permission.

Epel asks [Name] if they will help him ask Rook about it.

Epel sighed softly as he came to the realization that as a first year, he would need permission to leave the campus for their date in the mountains. There were only two people to be asked: Housewarden Vil Schoenheit... Or Vice Housewarden Rook Hunt.

"Let's ask Rook-senpai," Epel told [Name], who nodded, "I don't think Vil-senpai would take kindly to me asking him to go into the mountains instead of learn a..."

Epel counted something on his fingers for a moment, hoping that [Name] couldn't see the redness on his cheeks that had yet to fade.

"A... 45-step makeup routine."

Epel looked disgusted at the prospect of the "lesson" and [Name] fought back the urge to laugh at the cute pout on the boy's face.

"That is a lot of steps," [Name] agreed, "Where is Rook-san?"

"Watching..." came Epel's answer, "He usually does the finding."

That was a true statement. Rook usually stumbled across Epel. The use of the phrase "stumble across" is largely for the sound of it as Rook always had eyes on Epel. It was an order from their Queen, after all. He couldn't allow himself to come across the lavender-haired boy by chance, Rook needed to keep a focus on his prey beloved underclassman.

"Hmm, so how do we find him?" [Name] asked which earned a sigh from Epel, "Epel?"

"ROOK-SENPAI! I HAVE A QUESTION!" Epel shouted into the front garden of Pomefiore.

From thin air, Rook Hunt appeared next to Epel and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin despite being the one who had called out to Rook. [Name] was so surprised their scream was silent as their hand flew to their chest in startlement.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Pommette!" Rook greeted with a grin.

"Hi..." Epel said after catching his breath, "Rook-senpai..."

"Did you need something?~" Rook asked, a knowing look crossing his features, "Or were you in need of our Queen, the most Beautiful Vil?"

"No, no! Just you is more than enough, I mean... I needed to ask you somethin' if you have time?" Epel said, the sentence only barely flowing properly.

He wanted to ask the question but his mind worked faster than his lips could parse. The resulting sentence left much to be desired.

"Oh?"

Rook awaited the question.

"I want to go into the mountains with [Name] this weekend," Epel said, "Do I have your, uhm, permission to do that?"

The blond seemed to ponder this for a moment as Epel stood there staring. It was all up to Rook if he was allowed to have his first relationship. He wanted to. Epel wanted this part of a school experience too...

But Vil might not approve, and Rook was loyal to him.

Epel glanced at [Name] for a moment.

Would they be angry if Rook made him say "no"?

"Ah, merveilleux!" Rook spoke, surprising both [Name] and Epel out of their personal thoughts, "Chase after love as I do, Epel!"

What?

Epel didn't know what that meant. Well, he thought it might be approval, but with Rook, one could never tell. So he asked.

"...Uhm. Is that a yes?"

"Oui."

Epel couldn't fight the urge and pumped his fist in the air before composing himself as quickly as he could. Vil didn't see that, Vil wouldn't know... Unless Rook told him. Worries for later.

"Well, I'll see you this weekend, [Name]," Epel told them with a laugh and a sweet smile, "Let's make this one count."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Ortho Shroud

[Name] asks Ortho if he would like to see a movie.

Ortho says that he would love to go out with a friend.

He needs to ask his brother if he can go out with you.

[Name] makes a joke that if Ortho were older and perhaps not a robot/android it could be like a "date" for the two of them.

Ortho laughs and agrees that if it were Idia, it would be.

He knows about dates from Idia's visual novel collection and the internet (remember how he has access to the entire web?)

The two decide to prank Idia and tell him it IS a date.

Ortho argues that Idia needs to be surprised once in a while or he would just only play video games and hide in his dorm room.

Idia has a near heart attack over "Ortho's first date."

Ortho is unembarrassed by the question and excited to go!

He doesn't understand what might be embarrassing about an outing with the Prefect. It's not like it's a real date or anything.

Ortho laughed at [Name]'s baffled expression. They seemed shocked that he had agreed. Had they expected some other outcome?

"What? Did you expect me to say no?" the synthetic human asked them, coming just a bit closer, "I'll have you know I like spending time with you too! It's nice to have friends to go places with."

[Name] stuttered out stray sounds for a moment before they were able to phrase anything that was understandable language.

"I just thought you'd be busy since you're always with Idia-san."

"Hehe, my brother does keep me pretty busy," Ortho agreed before pausing, "Oh, that reminds me!"

[Name] looked at Ortho as he spoke.

"We need to ask my brother if I can go with you."

Ortho explained this as if it were obvious and [Name] supposed it was a natural source of events.

"Right now?"

In response to [Name]'s question, Ortho nodded.

"It would be best to do it sooner rather than later."

"Ah, alright!" [Name] replied.

They had expected Idia's consent would be somewhere in the steps it took to ask Ortho on an outing. Hopefully, this won't be too much of a hassle, they thought. The last thing they needed was more chaos.

"Follow me, [Full Name]-san!" Ortho cheered, floating off to guide [Name] from the hallway to the mirror that entered Ignihyde's dormitory.

It was a different kind of dorm, [Name] supposed. Ignihyde did not look anything like the other dorms. Though each dorm was unique, Ignihyde looked from a different time period with some of its elements. [Name] was used to it, though. This was not their first nor last time in this dormitory, however, it was their first time traveling to Idia and Ortho's bedroom.

Without knocking, Ortho opened the door. Before them was Idia Shroud dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants while he seemed to be typing one of the longest comments [Name] had ever seen (though they couldn't make out what it said).

"Nii-san!" Ortho called out, making Idia prickle, "I need to ask you something!"

"WHAT?" came a louder-than-normal exclamation from the blue-haired boy, "I mean... Oh, Ortho... Yeah?"

"[Full Name]-san asked me to go to a movie with them this weekend. Am I allowed to go with them?" Ortho asked with a smile, speaking as though it was the most basic question in the world.

In reality, it was a fairly simple question, but not for Idia. The Ignihyde Housewarden froze, feeling the shock of the comment strike him to his core. Idia lunged forward and took Ortho by the shoulders.

"They asked you out on a date?" Idia asked him.

"They want to go to the movies—"

Ortho did not get to finish his sentence.

"A DATE, ORTHO?" Idia continued, louder, ignoring [Name]'s presence intentionally or not as he put Sebek's typical volume to shame.

"We're going to the movies—"

Ortho once again did not get to finish his sentence.

"This is just like the new anime I've been watching, but you're so... You're too young to be experiencing a shoujo anime!"

"Nii-san..." Ortho tried to reason with his older brother.

"Idia-san..." [Name]'s tone mirrored Ortho's.

"Fine, fine. I can't, like, be the opposition. That would be so uncool of me if I were to ruin the interaction between the ML and his love interest," Idia decided.

In the end, Ortho and [Name] never did get to clarify the categorization of their outing with Idia. They supposed he would just get to think whatever it was he thought until it was out of his system.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek tries to refuse as he is "busy" with his work as a guard.

Malleus needs him, is his primary argument.

Sadly Malleus is quick to disprove this theory.

Sebek gawks as his master instructs him to participate in the human custom of a "date" to better his homeland.

Sebek is too offended at first to be embarrassed...

But then it sets in and his face is such a bright red it makes his hair look a bit silly with its green color.

He stutters and is unable to talk to [Name] for a minute or so.

He settles on nodding while this happens

In the end, he yells as per usual "OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."

Never a quiet moment with this one.

Sebek wasn't sure what to make of the words the human uttered. They wanted him to do what? That seemed highly inappropriate. Did he need to refuse this offer? He did think it was somewhat tempting, though. He did not hate this human. They were... not as irritating at the other humans at Night Raven College.

"Human," Sebek began, "I am afraid that I must refuse this invitation as I.. cannot forsake my role as a guard to Waka-sama."

He watched as their expression fell even if only slightly.

"Ah, alright then..." they managed to say before an awe-inspiring presence interrupted them.

"Sebek," Malleus spoke, his voice causing Sebek to straighten up more than he had been before the arrival of his master, "What is going on here, exactly?"

"W-Waka-sama," the halfling spoke, stuttering the first bit of his sentence from the surprise, "I was just alerting this human that I cannot leave your side for a... a 'date' of some kind."

Malleus raised an eyebrow.

So this was what it was about.

"And why can you not accompany this child of man?"

[Name] perked up at a mention of them as Sebek fumbled for an answer for the prince.

"Well, you see, I am your guard, after all..." he began, but Sebek soon fell silent under a piercing glare from Malleus.

"Sebek," the fae prince spoke in a low tone, "Will you do something for me?"

"Yes? Yes, of course, sir!"

"Guard this human on the date they have planned, this is imperative to Briar Valley."

Sebek's posture tensed even more at the order as he bowed to Malleus. [Name] stood there baffled by the sight of it all.

"AH! Of course, Waka-sama! Whatever you desire!"

Though Sebek did not notice it, [Name] could have sworn they saw Malleus smirk at the outcome. Had he done this with the intent to help them? They supposed they could always ask him about it later.

"So you can come with me?" [Name] asked Sebek a moment later.

"OF COURSE I WILL ACCOMPANY YOU AS YOU CLEARLY NEED A GUARD."

[Name] just laughed. The answer was... very Sebek.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

[rookinthecrownest]

rook try not to give this guy an aneurysm with her reckless and wanton nature challenge level: impossible

[ellie-writes-games]

Bellara's Writing Anxieties

This is such writer logic here. "If no one reads my stuff, I don't have to face how bad it is." Bel, honey, we've all been there.

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗ prev Part 3 of Burn After Reading banter series next ╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request? Part of an on-going series of fan-writings. See the full Masterlist here.

One of my favorite dialogue traits with Lucanis is how heavily he leans on questions with the other companions. It's a gentle way of engaging that provides this lovely contrast between his line of work and who he aspires to be to his friends and family. Having that said, I wanted to play with introducing a little more conflict without sending things off the rails. Buddy just really wants to read this book, and it's showing. 😂

This is fanfiction written by me, @ellie-writes-games These are NOT actual screenshots from the game. Peace, love, and mad props to the DA writers.

[boygirlbowie]

dbd ep 2 you do realize thats the closest thing to a compliment you're ever gonna get from edwin right. ep 5 charles rowland you are the best person I know. charles' obvious praise kink and edwins wholehearted willingness to fulfill that need for his friend

[inquisimer]

Happy Friday!! 💚👀

How about: the last thing i want is to see you get hurt. Featuring Arlow and Viago?

thank you for the prompt!! it hit really well, which is to say that it got much longer than I intended 😂 but here we go, from the requisite "Viago routinely poisons Rook de Riva" bit to Angst and Feels and Crow Politics 🤌

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 2035 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers

-

Not for the first time, Arlow hesitated outside Viago’s study door. She knew he was within, but her stomach churned with worry and anticipation. She was happy, unbelievably happy, and he had the power to crush that with a single look.

She unclenched her fist and stared down at the ring. Dragon bone, inlaid on a band of intertwined nevarrite and obsidian. Black and purple and gold—the colors of the Crows. But she had always been a Crow; this represented something so much more.

“I can hear you thinking out there. Come in, or go away—do not linger. It’s rude.”

It was so typical, so normal in a way that things had not been for a very long time, it almost erased Arlow’s concerns. Her fingers closed, hiding the ring from view, and she pushed the door open.

Viago had a spread of vials on his desk, and a tray for checking antidotes in the middle of the array. Emil was curled around his shoulders; his tongue flicked out at Arlow in greeting as she shut the door at her back.

“Hello Emil,” she said dryly. “Viago.”

“Come here.” He beckoned her forward with one hand; the other held a pipette filled with a murky brown-green solution. “Perfect timing. I need to test this.”

Arlow eyed the mixture warily. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d laid her up for days with one of his concoctions. But her constitution was better now, and so was his estimation of what was and wasn’t ready to test. Plus, if he knocked her out and the ring fell loose, she wouldn’t have to explain.

She propped herself on the free corner of his desk and opened her mouth. Viago dropped three precise dots of the solution on her tongue and waited, watching expectantly.

“Oh,” she choked, hand coming up to her throat. “That burns.”

Viago quickly scribbled a few notes in his journal. He set the pipette down and cupped her jaw, prying her eyelids back and turning her face toward the torchlight. He hummed, nodding to himself and making a few more quick notes. Arlow’s fist pressed hard against the polished wood of his desk, but the pressure did little for her—the poison might have burned her throat, but it was numbing her extremities now. It hurt, knowing she couldn’t roll her eyes to tell Viago to hurry up with the antidote.

She focused on her breathing. Despite her joking, she didn’t actually want to pass out in Viago’s study—she’d never hear the end of it.

“Okay, now this.” Viago drew a few drops of a yellowish liquid into a fresh pipette—if she had more control of her facial muscles, Arlow would have eyed it warily. It would not be the first time he fed her piss under this guise. But at the moment, she cared more about regaining her faculties, and she didn’t have the control to close her mouth, anyway.

She couldn’t tell how much he dropped onto her tongue, only that when enough of it hit, her nerves started buzzing like an angry beehive. He followed it with a spritz of something clear and vaguely acidic, then handed her a glass of water. She tossed it back, swished, and spit into the bucket on the edge of his desk.

“Well?”

Arlow flexed her fingers, running her tongue around the still-tingling inside of her mouth. “Assuming you wanted instantaneous numbing, I’d say it needs work. Not that I’d be precise or anything, but I definitely would have been able to haphazardly stab someone for at least the half minute you had me sitting here.

And as they both knew, half a minute was more than enough time to kill someone. Viago pursed his lips, nodding and muttering under his breath as he made more notes. “Good, good. Did you need something?”

“Yeah, um.” Arlow licked her lips, letting him think she was still recovering from the poison’s effects. It wouldn’t alter his results that much. But in truth, the sweat on her palms and the shake in her voice had nothing to do with what he’d given her. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was an adult and this was a choice she was allowed to make. Whatever Viago decided, no matter how much it hurt, would be on him. “I have to tell you something. And also ask a question.”

Her deliberately evasive phrasing drew his shaper attention as he corked one of his vials and set it aside. He folded his arms and raised a brow at her. “Out with it, then.”

Right. She uncurled her fingers and the torchlight caught fetchingly in the metal edges of the band, danced tantalizingly off the angular face of the stone. Viago froze, and she knew he had stopped breathing.

“That is a Dellamorte ring,” he said after a moment. Arlow’s throat constricted; it was both easier, and not, that he recognized it. “The Dellamorte ring, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not.”

“Why do you have it?”

“Lucanis gave it to me,” Arlow said. “When he asked me to marry him.”

Emil’s tongue flicked out in a hiss; it was the only sound. Arlow pinched the ring between her fingers and held it up. It really was beautiful, and there was strength in both that, and the promise it represented. Barely breathing, she slipped it onto her finger and clenched her fist. “I said yes.”

She forced herself to look directly at Viago as she said it. Not defiance—determination, and respect. Her heart cared about what he thought, but as a Crow she owed her Talon at least this much, and she respected that.

“Of course he did,” Viago finally said. Arlow didn’t visibly relax, but her gut unclenched; he didn’t sound angry. “And of course you did. Mierda.”

His brow furrowed as he studied her, silent, and Arlow deeply regretted not doing this when Teia was around. Teia, at least, always knew what to say, and just said it, right away. And she could read Viago better than anyone—Arlow might suspect what the working of his jaw, or his fingers twitching in their gloves meant, but Teia would know for sure. And would say it, even if Viago wouldn’t.

But this was more than a matter of her personal relationship. Because of who Lucanis was, because of who they were, as Crows, this was a matter of politics. And Teia, dear as she was, was the Talon of another House. This was between Arlow and Viago.

“Are you sure?” Viago’s voice cracked, and he covered for it by stepping forward and taking her hand. His gloves were thick enough that she felt no warmth through the leather; she simply watched as he swiped his thumb over the ring. “I know you have been happy. I know he makes you happy. But he is the First Talon. Tying yourself to him in this way will have consequences. Lethal consequences, if you aren’t careful—and I think we both know you’ve struggled with that in the past.”

Arlow couldn’t help but laugh, soft and melancholy. It was so fitting, and she didn’t even cringe when Viago’s concern sharpened into a glare at her amusement.

“I am sure,” she said, curling her fingers around his and squeezing just once before letting go. “More sure than I’ve been of anything in a long time.”

Viago nodded slowly. “Very well. I—well. I suspect you would do what you wished, regardless of my thoughts. As you always have. I simply do not wish to see you hurt.”

A warmth bled through Arlow and the corners of her mouth ticked up in a slight smile. “It’s just a formality, Viago. If anyone plans to leverage me against Lucanis, they will do it whether I wear his ring or not. And if Lucanis hurts me, he will cut off his own hand before you ever get to him.”

“Good.” Viago huffed. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You had a question, as well?”

“I rather thought you would ask it for me.” Arlow bit her lip. “I—well. It’s the matter of Houses, and which one I’ll belong to when this is done.”

Viago’s fingers clenched on the edge of the desk. Around his shoulders, Emil hissed, slithering around his neck in a reaction the distress Viago was holding back. Wordlessly, he removed the snake from his collar and deposited him back in his tank. He stayed there, staring down at the fire rune, back turned to the desk, and to Arlow. “That isn’t a question.”

“Cazza, Viago, do you need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes!” he snapped, whirling around. “If you are asking permission to leave my House for his, then I would hope you have the decency to say it to my face.”

Okay. So maybe she did need to spell it out for him.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” she said softly. She slipped off the desk and walked to his side. “When you made me a de Riva, you saved my life. You made my life. And you made it one worth living. My heart belongs to that history as much as it does to Lucanis, and I am not so quick to cast it aside.” She took a deep breath. “But—there is only one way in which I truly stay a de Riva, and also marry Lucanis.”

Viago’s lips had parted with surprise as she spoke, an unknowable emotion shining in his eyes. Now, he pursed them, as she led him to the question she was actually asking.

“You want me to give you to him,” her murmured. Arlow nodded.

“But I know what that means,” she added hastily. “I know that it is not a choice, or a promise to be made lightly. If I thought for even a moment that it would be a detriment to our house, I would never ask. But—I do not think it will mean anything that you would not already do.”

She swallowed. “But if you’re not willing… I understand. And I will accept your decision, either way.”

“Well, that would be a first,” Viago snorted. He clasped her by the shoulders, and Arlow was surprised by how clear and certain his gaze seemed. She’d never known Viago to make a decision so swiftly. Usually, there were days of agonizing, debating, considering the angles. But not this time. “Arlow. Pajarito, you think I would let you get away? It was my hand that lifted you into this House, and it was my name that you wore out to change the world. And when I gave it to you—“ he swallowed, throat bobbing awkwardly. Arlow covered his hands with her own, eyes shining. It was the most words she’d ever heard Viago string together at once outside of a lecture and she thought she might be able to live on this forever.

“When I gave it to you, I didn’t know, but I was giving it a life beyond poisons, and scheming, and grief. I would not force it on you now, but de Riva is yours as long as you wish to wear it. And though he is hardly worthy, and it is dangerous, if you are asking, then yes. I will find a pair of gloves suitable to give you to him.”

Arlow threw her arms around his neck, lifting herself up onto tip toes, not caring that he was stiff under her for just a bit too long before he wrapped his arms around her torso and buried his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” she said against his chest. “I—thank you. Thank you.”

Viago drew back, his smile genuine, but worried. “Of course,” he said, even though they both knew no such assurance had ever been real. “Have you told Teia?”

Arlow shook her head, and to her surprise Viago threw back his head and laughed. Then he gestured to the door, grinning a bit too smugly for Arlow’s taste.

“Come,” he said. “I want to see her face when she finds out you told me first.”

[weaveandwood]

The Snake and The Crow

Pairing: The Viper x Female Rook (Bianca, an Antivan Crow mage) Words: 3.4K NSFW Summary: The Viper and Rook had chemistry that was instantaneous, obvious. It was only a matter of time before they acted on it. And then kept acting on it over and over again. This takes place on one such night.

AN: I have never been more feral for a non-romanceable NPC before, and now...I get it.

Read on AO3! Read Chapter Two

He met her, as always, by the Eluvian at the shop. She crossed through, as always, wearing Shadow Dragon robes to blend in, though she knew they wouldn’t stay on long enough for it to really matter. He stepped forward, pulling her into his arms for the quickest of moments before leading her through the hideout, taking a path she had grown very familiar with these past weeks. Though it was the middle of the night when only the fewest and most discreet Dragons were around, he would remain vigilant and masked, only unveiling himself once they were alone in his quarters at the hideout. Not much longer, she thought, ready to rid herself of both her clothes and her tension with a few hours spent tangled up in him. 

Their chemistry had been instantaneous, palpable to the point where even Neve commented that she felt like she was intruding on something after the first time they met. It seemed like a forgone conclusion then, that by their third meeting they found themselves in hidden corridors, entwined in each other. Since then, she made appearances every other night, and the two spent hurried hours forgetting about duty for the first time in a long time. 

Tonight though, something was different - they turned left instead of right. The went out the entrance to the streets of Dock Town instead of to his small converted office that she intimately knew every flat surface of. 

“Viper, where are you taking me?” Bianca asked, following him through the streets, crowded even at this hour. He pulled her into a side alleyway and pressed her back against the wall of a building. He looked left and right before unhooking his mask and kissed her - deeply, and far, far too quickly - before pulling away. She was left breathless and desperate for more, clinging on to his coat to regain her balance as he fastened his mask back into place. 

“The hideout is too busy for me to be able to do all the things I want to do to you,” he said softly into her ear. He tucked a curl behind it, his fingers tracing the outline of the elegantly pointed tip, sending a shock through her. 

“Oh,” she whispered, a hot flush creeping up her neck though she couldn’t recall seeing more than the usual handful of Dragons when they cut through the hideout before. She could sense something simmering under the carefully crafted veneer he exhibited as The Viper, and wondered what was in store for her when he could be Ashur once more. He took her hand and led her on a winding path through alleys, side streets, and up some ladders before finally arriving at a small apartment. 

“Did you bring me to…your home?” she questioned with a teasing smile, looking around while walking through the front door. It was modest, sparsely furnished - the mark of a man who never spent any time there. She leaned against a wall and watched him take off his hat and mask, finally revealing the handsome face that she had grown so fond of over these last weeks, specifically his full lips. 

He knew what he was doing with those lips. 

“I know I can trust you,” he said matter-of-factly, hanging up his coat. “Now, where were we?” 

“I believe you were going to elaborate on all the things you wanted to do to me,” she said. He stepped close to her, unfastening the closure of the robes she had hastily thrown on before leaving the Lighthouse that night and sliding them off her shoulders, leaving her in just a pair of leggings. 

His fingers traced the outlines of the feather shaped scars she had gotten carved into her skin the night she was initiated as a Crow. The pain had been worth it for the feeling of his light touch, tonight and every night they were together.

“I want to touch every one of these feathers,” he rumbled in her ear. “With my fingers, with my mouth…especially your wings.” Bianca’s breath caught at the mere thought of him behind her, mental images from previous nights creeping to the forefront of her memory - one hand on her waist, pulling her back into him, the other in her hair, tugging slightly to turn her head to kiss him roughly. He had always been particularly drawn to the feathers carved into the shape of wings on her back. His mouth trailed from her earlobe to the side of her neck, kisses following a path left by his touch, causing her magic to react wildly within her. Sparks of lightning felt like they followed each press of his lips against her heated skin, bringing a gasp from her own. Her neck, her collarbone, the lowest scarred feather between her breasts - nowhere escaped Ashur’s diligence.

Still, he moved lower, and the sparks within her ignited to fire as she watched him. She was ready to self combust when she felt his fingers reaching inside the waistband of her leggings. He let out an approving hum when he realized she didn't wear undergarments - she never did on nights they spent in each other’s company.

“You’re lucky I even wore those.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“That would have made for one awkward walk through Dock Town,” she laughed seeing the smirk on his face looking up at her. “It wouldn’t be good for Mr. Anonymity to be seen walking the streets in the middle of the night with a pantsless woman, don’t you agree?” 

“It may have been worth it,” he smiled against her stomach, kissing it once more before sliding off the slippers she wore and pushing her leggings off her hips, the dim light in his apartment revealing the curves and dips of her strong frame. He traced the outlines of her legs from her ankles to her calves to her thighs before settling his hands on her hips. Bianca admitted to herself that there was something very pleasing about a fully clothed Ashur kneeling before her naked body. She closed her eyes, leaning back against the wall and felt his warm breath on her. He kissed each hip bone, each thigh, her lower stomach as if he had all the time in the world, his soft lips branding her yet never moving to the place she wanted them the most. 

“Ashur,” she whispered, “it isn’t like you to tease me so much.” Most nights were frenzied with him - there was never time for much else. They had a simple arrangement, and it worked. Or so she thought, until she felt him kissing almost every inch of her skin. Things couldn’t be different between them, but…what if? 

“There is less of a chance of someone flinging my door open with an emergency here,” he looked up at her before draping her leg over his shoulder, kissing the crease of her thigh. “Besides, here you can be as loud as you want,” he smiled before flattening his tongue, dragging it from her entrance to her clit, the lightning within her raging once more. She tightened her grip on his shoulders and arched against the wall, soft moans spilling from her mouth as he continued licking, alternating between soft slow laps and fervent flicks against her, reading her body like a book he was well acquainted with. Her hips rocked against his face, and she wanted more, more, more…

His fingers dug into the soft skin of her hips, his tongue keeping its steady rhythm like a dutiful soldier. She tensed up and shuddered against him, her cries echoing through the apartment as he tasted her pleasure.  

He stood and swept his hand from her hips to her stomach to her breasts in an agonizingly slow path.  It was pleasant torture - every second he spent exploring her body increased her want of him tenfold. The warmth of his lips soon followed as he took each nipple into his mouth - sucking, flicking, biting gently. She felt him hum against her as each one hardened at his ministrations. He dragged his tongue in a path between her breasts, following the outlines of her scars back up to her collarbone, her throat, then finally her lips, where he kissed her like he would never kiss her again. Kissing Ashur was what she assumed a religious experience would be like, if she had been religious at all - he kissed her deeply, intensely, and with a fervor that was unmatched by all the others she had kissed before. Their tongues slid together, well-practiced at knowing what the other liked. His hands threaded through her hair, wrapping in her tangle of curls, while hers busied themselves by pulling his shirt free from his pants. He had been wearing it far too long. She began fumbling with the buttons blindly, distracted by both the heat of his kiss and the hardness pressing against her hip, letting out a frustrated groan when they did not yield easily. She was desperate to have him inside her and in that moment, those buttons were proving to be almost as big a foe as the gods they were fighting. 

He pulled away, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth before grabbing her hand and leading her down a small hallway to his bedroom - as sparsely furnished as the rest of the apartment, but comfortable enough. Bianca perched on his bed, watching him. 

“I thought I was lucky just seeing the entryway to your apartment, I didn’t realize I’d be seeing your bedroom too,” she laughed. “You’re pulling out all… the…”

She was quickly silenced by the sight of him undressing. Ashur had a grace that was hidden by the layers he wore. He surprised her that first night they were together, how elegant his movements were when unconstrained by large jackets and layers of clothing, layers of duty, layers of pressure. He never shied under her gaze, even when she watched him as intently as she was now - head tilted, eyes following the path of his hands. Sliding his shirt off, pushing down his pants, taking off his undergarments. It had to be said Ashur in no clothing was her favorite Ashur of all. Completely unburdened, completely himself. It was a rare occasion they had the opportunity to fully undress as most nights were stolen moments, a rearrangement of clothing to allow for quick access and an easy exit. Tonight…well tonight there felt like there was time, even if they both knew there wasn’t. Not really. 

“Now you’re really spoiling me,” she said. “A girl could get used to this, you better watch out. Soon, I won’t want to be bent over your desk anymore,” she laughed. 

He laughed as he crossed the room, climbing on to the bed behind her. He made good on his promise from earlier as she felt the first touch of his fingers softly tracing the scars on her left shoulder, followed by his lips. Slowly, methodically, he traced each one from her shoulder blade to her arm and back. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, focusing solely on the feeling of him on her skin, anticipation of his next move adding to the bonfire raging within her. 

“We both know that’s a lie,” he whispered into her ear, gently nipping at her earlobe and eliciting a soft gasp from her. Bianca was wound so tightly she felt she could explode at any moment, and though she hadn’t even touched him yet, she could tell he must be feeling similarly - he was hard as stone against her backside. She pressed her hips back into him, smiling at the moan he used her shoulder to muffle while he resumed his careful appreciation of the scars on her right arm. 

He ran a finger lightly up and down her spine, goosebumps spreading all over her body. She wasn’t sure what magic he possessed to cause her to react so vividly to his touch, but she would not complain, not when it felt like this. His hands went to her waist, pulling her against him, her back now pressed against his firm chest. She rocked back against his hardness, wanting him even more if that were possible. She wanted him to push her forward into the mattress and take her. Instead, she felt a hand slide to her center, parting her and finding her swollen clit before rubbing it gently. The other hand slid up to her breast, his palm fully covering it as it kneaded the soft flesh, his hips rocking in time with hers. 

“Ashur…please…” she moaned. This wasn’t fair - they didn’t tease each other, they didn’t drag it out. That was something for normal people with normal lives who weren’t trying to save the world. That was something for…feelings. Something they agreed they couldn’t — wouldn’t — risk. “Don’t make me beg.” 

He stopped moving. 

“Would you beg for me?” he whispered into her ear. She could almost hear the smile in his voice. “You want me that badly?”

“I want you inside me right now,” she whispered, her voice dripping with lust. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” 

“Lie down for me. I want to be able to watch you while I have you,” he said. If she thought she was heated before, it was nothing compared to how she felt then. Her body was molten - she was liquid fire in his hands as he pushed her back onto the mattress, her head resting against his pillow. It was faint, but it smelled of him. She guessed this was probably the first time he’d been here in over a week. She watched him through half-lidded eyes as he settled himself between her spread legs, pressing them farther apart with his muscular thighs. 

“You are beautiful, you know that right?” he said, leaning down to kiss her as he took himself in one hand, guiding himself into her slowly, steadily, just the way she liked it. The initial burn gave way to pleasure as she felt herself open and give around him. Ashur was a large man, especially where it counted. She moaned into his mouth as he pressed deeply inside of her, filling and stretching her perfectly. Any worries she had during the day left her mind whenever he was inside her and tonight was no exception. 

He set a deliberate pace from the beginning. There was no need for easing her into it, she preferred it this way - with him pulling almost completely out of her before driving back in fully. Each time his hips snapped against hers she felt the world melt away. She arched against his bed, her arms wrapped around his back just as his were around hers - the two of them clinging tightly to each other as they sought to forget everything outside of this moment, if only for a moment. She knew her nails were digging into his skin, and selfishly hoped they would leave a mark, even if no one would be able to see it. 

“More, Ashur, more,” she whispered into his ear. “Have me. Take me. I’m yours.” 

He looked into her eyes, something quickly flashing across them but gone in an instant before he sat up on his knees, his hands on her hips. He drove into her faster, harder, grunting with effort. His eyes darkened as he watched where they were joined, his hardness glistening with her arousal.

For a long while, the only noises in the bedroom were the sounds of their collective moans, their bodies hitting together, and the creaking of the bed. Ashur managed to hit every spot that drove Bianca crazy, even some she didn’t even know he could hit from this position. He moved her feet to his shoulders, using her thighs as leverage as he continued his relentless pace - long, driving strokes that hit every inch of her. She felt herself starting to tighten around him, wanting that release so badly but not wanting this night to end. She could be like this with him all night every night and never be satisfied. She was selfish when it came to being with him, that she knew. How could she not be? She was certain she was ruined, that no one else could possibly make her feel this good. The scary thing that raced through her mind occasionally was that she wasn’t sure if she wanted anyone else to try. 

“Ashur, I -” she panted, unable to get a complete sentence out before he started to rub her clit once more, a jolt running through her, causing her hips to buck at his touch. He knew what she needed. He kept the same pace, watching her face as she got closer and closer to the edge, ready to throw herself over that great precipice. She cried out his name, sending it to whatever gods were listening, if there even were gods anymore and came hard around him. Pleasure crashed over her in waves as her orgasm shuddered through her body once more. 

He lost control, thrusting into her roughly as he raced to the peak of his own desire. He kept eye contact as he finally, blissfully reached it, driving into her once more before crying out loudly, his release filling her. He was beautiful when he came, she couldn’t deny it. He was beautiful always, but unguarded, unfiltered, and knowing nothing but pleasure was a side of Ashur no one else got to see but her, at least at this moment in time.

A small consolation. 

Sweaty and panting, he pulled out of her and lay beside her on the bed to catch his breath. She turned to her side to look at him, unused to having time to relax after finishing their near nightly ritual. 

“Why don’t you stay tonight?” he asked quietly, breaking the silence. His finger played with a wild curl that had fallen across her face before pushing it back into place with all the others. 

“That doesn’t sound very ‘no strings attached,’ Ashur,” she laughed. She wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.

“Maybe we could have a couple strings,” he replied. 

“Hmm...and what would a couple strings be like?” she asked, her fingers tracing the shell of his ear, the sharpness of his jaw, the fullness of his lips. He responded with a gentle kiss to her fingertips. 

“Maybe sometimes we come here if there’s time. Maybe you stay the night instead of running off straight back to the eluvian.” He sighed. “There are other, more dangerous strings I am thinking of, but those are not possible.” 

She laughed. “And what constitutes a dangerous string?”

“Something like us not hiding, something like us seeing what this even is. Or could be.”  

“Those are…dangerous strings. You know that. I know that. If anyone found out, the Venatori would use me against you and Elgar'nan and Ghilan’nain would use you to get to me. We…can’t,” she said, her brow furrowed as her heart sank. “As much as I want to.” 

“So…I’m not alone in feeling this way?” he asked, his fingers intertwining with hers. 

“No, you’re not. Which may be dangerous in its own way. We both have important work to do. When that is done, we can revisit the dangerous strings.” Relief poured through her veins as he nodded in agreement. 

“And until then?” he asked, kissing each one of her knuckles, the inside of her wrist, her shoulder, her neck. He was relentless, and she was already cursing herself for being logical for once in her short life. And he knew it. 

“We can have a couple…non-dangerous strings. I do think I like being in your bed.” 

“And you staying here?” 

“I like that too,” she smiled. “Just not tonight. I have to leave in a few hours to meet with Grey Wardens in the Anderfels and find a monster hunter named Davrin. I should be back in a couple days, though. If it's a night where there’s time…I’d like a repeat of tonight. More than one.” She paused, her heart racing. “I like this. I like us. If it were any other world…” 

He kissed her then, softly. 

“If it were any other world, we wouldn’t have met. It is what it is. I’m happy to revisit the dangerous strings later. Come on, let’s get you home. Unless…” he pulled her back on top of him, making her laugh in surprise. She felt him already starting to harden beneath her once more. “You have time for a quick round two?” 

“I think I can make the time. Who needs sleep anyway?” she smiled before kissing him.

[ollypopwrites]

The Privilege of Worship

Emmerich Volkarin x Cis!Fem Rook [note: references to the fact Rook is Curvy but there’s little to no description of her appearance.] Summary: He had pieced together everything she hadn’t actually said out loud. Rook had been a bit smitten since he had first moved into the Lighthouse, and she hadn’t been very subtle about it either. It was a very clear conclusion: he didn’t believe that she would put herself first and he was going to have to do it for her. Rating: M (18+ MDNI) CW: canon dialogue divergence, height difference, self-doubt, enthusiastic consent, check ins, communication, breast play, fingering, semi-public sex, body worship, squirting, masturbation reference, after care, very slight d/s negotiation if you squint, Emmrich is almost too gentlemanly for his own good, Rook talks too much when she’s nervous, scaring the hoes (each other), grown ups being grown up about relationships. Word count: 6.7k Notes: I just wanted to have Rook fingerbanged in a graveyard and then feelings happened ok. EDITED: Thank you to @flightlessangelwings for the moral support and assistance with this fic I'm so happy to be yelling about porn with you once more.

Read on A03

“So, Emmrich I wanted to tell you something,” Rook started. “I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing with…all of this. I’ve never been with anyone. Romantically, I mean.”

Rook began to panick at the look on Emmrich’s face. She probably should have worded it better, but she had just said the first thing that came to her mind before she lost the nerve to say it. The night had been going so well, and she thought she was watching it fall apart right before her eyes. 

“Not the first everything! I’m not a virgin,” she quickly went to correct herself. The blunt way she said it didn’t seem to soothe the shocked expression he wore. “I’ve had one or two flings over the years.”

“One or two?” Emmrich repeated slowly, as if trying to process it. 

“What I mean is,” Rook kept on, “it’s all just a bit… new.”

The pause in conversation was enough to make her wince, as she awaited his response. What Rook had considered more than the difference in years between them was the difference in experience in this particular area. Weeks living with the team had meant stories had been told, and with every polite mention of a past suitor or relationship Rook had felt her stomach tie into a knot.

It had hit her in the middle of the same night that the only thing more terrifying than saying it out loud to him was for him to figure it out while they were in the middle of being intimate.  

“We can move slowly.” he assured her with a smile, the same one that always seemed to put her at ease. 

“Hopefully not too slow.” Rook couldn’t help herself. 

Emmrich chuckled, “as you wish, my dear.” Then he added, “I’m… glad you chose me.”

“It’s been good so far,” she breathed, shifting in her seat a little. 

“Oh!” He seemed so pleased with himself. “Excellent.”

“Anyway…” She looked around. “Should we enjoy the garden?”

“Certainly.”

The heat of embarrassment had long left her face, she was still warm, but it had dulled to a low simmer of excitement and contentment. With her arm tucked in his, they walked the gardens without any purpose. No rites or gathered flowers, just enjoying the general splendor as wisps danced to and fro, and meandering spirits appeared and disappeared in the periphery. 

When Rook saw the looming Love in Life and Death monument she gently pulled him toward it. Her thoughts lingered on that first kiss, the gentility and sweetness of it, much as the rest after had been. The slightest hint of becoming more had been either interrupted back at the Lighthouse or by some wandering Mourn Watcher there in the gardens. 

It was not that Rook was rushing it, but it was hard to ignore the press of impatience. 

“I think this is my favorite spot in the gardens,” Rook said as they neared it. 

“And why is that dearest?” 

He knew why, she was certain by the slight glint of mischief in his eye. It made her stomach flutter, and she pushed past the nerves of feeling put on the spot. 

“Just the general atmosphere,” she shrugged, but she was grinning like an idiot, she knew.

Emmrich hummed a response, taking her hand and unlooping her arm from his. She let him spin her so her back was to the monument, a recreation of the very evening that brought them to this moment. Rook felt the stone at her back as he led her, and immediately lifted herself onto her toes, looking up and ready to accept a kiss she was sure was coming.

Emmrich held her in suspense for a few moments. His hand gently cupped the curve of her jaw, the coolness of his rings against her warmed cheeks an intoxicating contrast. He tilted her head back further, eyes roving over her face and settling on her lips. The other hand very gently landed at her waist, not overbearing by any means, and Rook carelessly curled her fists around his pressed shirt as the anticipation began to become too much. Finally, he looked her in the eyes. 

“This is where I ought to say something devastatingly debonair,” he said gently. 

Rook laughed a little, “I am on the edge of my seat.”

“I sorely hate to disappoint, my dear,” his thumb gently rubbed the skin over her cheek bone, “but I find myself too enchanted with the idea of putting my lips to other uses to come up with anything.”

Rook’s breath hitched, she felt her smile falter in pure shock at the intense zap of desire that shot through her. “That — that’s you not knowing what to say?” She replied. “Maker, Emmrich.”

He laughed a little, unguarded and like he was a bit surprised himself. “May I?”

“Please.”

Emmrich kissed her. Similar to most of their previous kisses, it was sweet, a bit chaste except for the way he lingered in each one. The stone at her back kept her steady as his hand flexed its grip on her waist, the other sliding down her face to dip just below the collar of her shirt at the juncture where her shoulder met her neck. His long fingers splayed and tilted her head, his thumb just over the pulse point of her throat. He had to feel her heart hammering. 

But he kept a reasonable distance between their bodies, just close enough that they were touching without him pressing into her at all. Each pass of their lips over each other was a test of her patience, as she surged and retreated, trying not to push the heat of them too far when he met her with the same controlled gentility. Her fingers loosened in the grip she had of his shirt, trying her best to follow his lead despite the urge in her to pull him tight against her and nip at his lower lip until he gave her an opening to slip her tongue in. 

“You don’t have to hold back on my account,” he murmured against her lips. 

“You’re the one holding back,” she teased. 

He kissed her a little firmer then, but just as quickly as the flame had spiked he pulled himself back again. Frustration started to rear its head in her, her impatience reaching its boiling point. She could push through, she could barrel headfirst and approach this the way she had with her previous partners. 

Faking it until she made it, acting confident and assertive and figuring it out as she went was not just her leadership style. It was how she had approached anything she felt uncertain about. But this was different, he was different. 

So she pulled away and asked, “is it because of what I told you earlier?”

Her voice was a bit smaller than she would have liked, the self-consciousness so plainly obvious she felt that heat of embarrassment start to take over again. The slight tang of panic overtaking the excitement she felt before. 

Emmrich pulled back a little to look at her. The desire in his eyes was somewhat clouded by a flicker of doubt. He was considering what to say; how to say it kindly, how to make sure it couldn’t be misunderstood. Rook almost didn’t want him to say anything at all. Maybe she should just grab him by that impossibly stiff collar and kiss him breathless so he couldn’t think about how much she hadn’t experienced in comparison to him. 

“There is a bit of concern, I will admit,” he finally said. “The last thing I want is you to feel as if anything intimate is expected of you, Rook.” His expression tightened, “your eagerness is infectious, and I am enjoying it thoroughly.” His smile was tilted to one side, still tense in his self-deprecation, “almost too thoroughly, if I am being honest. But your comfort must come before all else.”

Oh, he was too good to be true. Rook had to blink a couple times, take a moment to process what she was hearing. What it felt like to be cared for. It was just a little foreign, and for a split moment she wished she was in her armor, not the soft and thin casual clothes that left her unprotected. The vulnerability was stark and a bit scary; like he had pieced together everything she hadn’t actually said out loud. Rook had been a bit smitten since he had first moved into the Lighthouse, and she hadn’t been very subtle about it either. It was a very clear conclusion: he didn’t believe that she would put herself first and he was going to have to do it for her. 

And he was probably right. 

It was a crossroads moment, one that was so obvious it couldn’t have been more clear if it was narrated by some unseen omniscient presence. Rook could choose in that moment to fall back into old ways, to make their connection a fleeting and desperate grab for intimacy in the face of the apocalypse. To let it be something that she would inevitably feel the need to run from when things got too uncomfortable. 

Her past entanglements hadn’t been bad, but they had not been anything more than frisky fun. They were shallow and lasted no longer than a few months: both parties knowing they weren’t staying in the long run so they took and took from each other until there was nothing else either person was willing to give. 

Rook could easily let this be the same. She could act crass and brave; all she had to do was pull Emmrich’s mouth back down to her own and whisper something filthy enough to make him believe she wasn’t afraid. 

Or she could accept this offer of care and hand it back in kind. She could embrace the vulnerability of the fact that he wanted very much to be good to her. He had been so careful, ensuring that without a doubt she was interested in him before he even considered acting on his attraction. He had made every step very deliberately, so that even in this stage of exploration of what this  could maybe become his intentions were always clear. 

“I trust you, Emmrich. Do you trust me?” Rook asked. 

“Of course,” he didn’t hesitate.

Rook touched his cheek, the scratch of five o’clock shadow beginning to sprout there was a tangible and grounding sensation against her palm. She didn’t miss the way he leaned ever so slightly into the touch either, bolstering her and making her certain of her decision. 

 “I promise I will let you know if I need things to slow down,” she assured him, “if you promise to believe me when I say I’m alright.”

“And you will tell me?” 

There it was, that sliver of doubt. 

“Yes. I will.”

Emmrich grabbed her hand from his face, a soft squeeze and the smallest of circles traced on the back of it as he smiled at her. With a gentle tug he placed her hand over her shoulder and leaned in again, lips pressing close and his body crowding her back against the stone. Another chaste kiss, but this time his hands sprawled over curves, grabbing through thin cloth and she lifted herself on her toes to meet him. 

With each press of their lips, he seemed to let go of another bit of reservation. Rook felt herself matching each one, the tension building up again, her prior discomfort from the vulnerability dissolving the moment he groaned so quietly against her lips. He shifted slightly, turning his head and trailing his kiss to the corner of her lips. He was pulling away and suddenly nothing seemed like a worse idea. 

Rook felt a noise slip past her throat, something between desperate and frustrated. Her hand tangled into his hair and pulled him back to her lips properly, giving the tiniest nip over his bottom lip before her tongue pressed in her teeth’s wake. Emmrich’s mouth opened in a gasp, before he teased his tongue against hers. 

Like most things she was finding with Emmrich, even making out in the gardens flowed and ebbed in a well-balanced way that kept her on her toes. Were their prior conversations not so serious, she may have teased the good professor for snogging in the Memorial Gardens like some hormonal apprentice. The difference in height between them kept him from pressing his hips to hers, even as she lifted herself and he leant down to meet her. But her heart leapt at the idea of him grinding against her while they kissed and kissed and kissed. 

Very slowly his hands slid over the curve of her waist past the swell of her hips and onto her backside. With a whine she kissed him harder if possible, and then he squeezed. The gasp she let out had her faltering in their kiss, and then with ease she was not quite expecting him to display he lifted her. 

It was only the short distance to place her in a sitting position on the lowest stone tier of the monument behind her. The second supported her back as her feet dangled and she immediately opened her legs to allow him closer. At this height it was a bit more comfortable, he slotted directly against her, just about the same height as him standing and leaning over her.

Suddenly his fingers were undoing the buttons of her blouse, all the while he ducked his head to kiss at her pulse point. Rook tilted her head back, giving him all the access he could ever need, each press of his lips, teeth and tongue giving her full body goosebumps and pulling a moan from her throat. 

Her shirt was open just wide enough for him to pull it down over one shoulder, his mouth painting the curve of it. A swell of cleavage had been revealed, a nimble hand spanned one of her breasts. He kneaded softly, pressing just enough to create the slightest friction of his palm against a hardened nipple and make her gasp suddenly. 

Rook felt the point of no return creeping up. The sudden recognition that they were in the middle of the garden making her open her eyes to scan around them. There was an atmospheric fog that seemed to settle around the gravestones at all times, but it wasn’t enough to offer real cover. 

“Emmrich,” She whispered, it sounded less like she was trying to get his attention and more like a plead given that his thumb began to circle her nipple through the cloth of her smallclothes. 

For a moment she had forgotten she was trying to get his attention, the lull of the sparks it ignited in her was such a delicious temptation. He offered her a reprieve by simply squeezing her breast, allowing a logical thought to pierce the haze of arousal. 

“What would your fellow Mourn Watchers say — ah,” she faltered as his teeth dug gently into the skin of her neck and he sucked, “—if they found Professor Volkarin necking in the gardens?”

“They’d say I was the most fortunate man alive or dead, certainly,” he murmured, lips not quite losing contact with the skin of her throat. “But only if they were somehow not rendered speechless by the sight of you, my dear.”

Focus, Rook.

Beating a pair of blighted Gods seemed an easier task, but she managed to find her mind. 

“Emmrich,” she insisted. 

Instantly, his hands and mouth stilled. But there was a moment of tense silence as he stayed where he was, his breaths coming in small pants, fingers still twitching to touch and grab. Surprisingly, he said nothing, just gathered himself for a moment. She didn’t want him to fall back into propriety, but she had to ask. 

“What if someone sees us?”

“Would you like to stop?” He tilted his head, still angled so he was below and looking up at her. 

“That’s not what I asked,” she challenged. “As much as I want you to ravish me right here, we don’t need to be on the Mourn Watch’s bad side for desecrating the Memorial Gardens.” 

There was the slightest change in his eyes, a momentary narrowing before he came back to himself. Something going on in his mind she couldn’t quite figure out. 

“I assure you,” he lifted himself to kiss her lips, “no one will be coming to disturb us.”

“How do you know?” 

“I am a senior necromancer,” Emmrich told her with the slightest lilt of haughtiness, “there are privileges that come along with the position.”

“I see what you’re getting at,” she smiled. “Reanimated royal cooks and a private night in the garden,” she moved to undo the chain on his collar, the first step to undressing him, “you really are trying to impress.”

“My dear, this is only the beginning,” he delicately grabbed her hand so she had to stop fussing with his chain, and kissed each knuckle. “But if you truly are uncomfortable continuing on —“

“No,” she insisted. “No, I’m fine,” she nodded her head, “not the first time I’ve been a bit risky, and if you say no one will stumble upon us...” she leaned in to kiss him again.  

Emmrich arched a brow at her. “One of your two dalliances? In public, really?”

She couldn’t tell if he was being jealous or judgemental. The only response she could find was, “come on, with the life I lead? You think no one’s ever fucked me behind a bar before?” 

The unmoving look he gave her was full of as much patience as the unknown other emotion she couldn’t place. She was doing it again. Another attempt at making herself feel less self-conscious,

leaning on bravado that was her only saving grace in moments of uncertainty. 

“I see.”

“I was more worried about your delicate sensibilities.”

Emmrich gave a short laugh. 

“I feel like I keep saying wrong things,” she admitted, “can we get back to the kissing bit?”

He acquiesced, but this time the kisses didn’t start slow and gentle. Emmrich picked up exactly where he left off, overwhelming her with heavy draws of his tongue into her mouth. She was glad for it, reaching back for that fire that was stoking in her, and determined not to let anything douse it again. 

Despite the fervor in his kisses, his hands were more soft. Teasing touches over her breasts again through fabric, still keeping some distance between them even as he was slotted between her thighs. Impatiently she grabbed for him, pulling him close so she could kiss above his collar. He smelled of some kind of cologne or maybe aftershave, lavender and sage and myrrh, she took a deep breath at the pleasantness of it before she nipped at the skin. 

He let out a sigh, thumb grazing over her nipple through fabric again, and she was spurred on. She felt exposed with her top half open, while he was perfectly well kempt except for where she had wrinkled his shirt with grabbing hands. Boldness crested in her as she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him flush against her. 

There was the telltale hardness of him, blocked by all the layers of his clothing and hers, but unmistakable. He grunted, a deep low sound that gave her chills, and immediately she felt the firm grind of him against her. There was far too much clothing between them for her to truly get off from it, but his mouth had dropped to the swell of her cleavage, hot tongue running across the skin and in combination it was enough to make her moan. 

Emmrich stopped moving immediately, and she threw her head back with a disappointed noise. His fingers toyed with the edge of her underclothes, just barely reaching under, grazing the bare underside of her breasts. Rook sucked a sharp breath in, eyes flying open to find his lingering there where his fingers were. They flicked back to hers, and she nodded her head, running her hand up over his cheek and through his hair. 

He kissed her first, sweetly this time, a soft and heart wrenching sincerity to it that she didn’t have time to process before his hand slipped completely underneath her bandeau. He sighed into her lips, squeezing the flesh in his hand. When his thumb traced over her nipple without the fabric as a barrier she moaned, louder than before and her fingers tightened in his hair. 

He did it again, seeming to feed off the reaction. “You make the loveliest sounds, dearest.”

She chuckled a little, not really having the mind to find something to say back. He groped and kissed, and she rocked her hips into his seeking any kind of friction she could get. Emmrich pressed harder into her, and she heard him choke back a groan as she rolled her hips, and he shifted just slightly to pull his hips away. 

A truly petulant groan left her as she grabbed at him again. “You're still holding back, Emmrich.”

“I am,” he admitted plainly.

“Don’t,” she urged. “I’m fine.”

“Trust me, my dear, I know,” he simply said, pulling his hands carefully from underneath her bandeau. “My plans for this evening are going just as I had hoped.”

Rook felt her stomach drop, “but —“

“Give me your hand, please,” he held his out and she didn’t hesitate to press her palm to his. 

She expected him to be a gentleman and help her down from the ledge he had put her on. She preemptively felt the disappointment of desire unsatisfied, her stomach turning at the idea of finishing a walk around the garden so unsated with her underclothes sticking wetly to her cunt, a constant reminder of what almost was. Emmrich took her hand and she felt the slide of metal against her skin, he placed three of his gold bands on her ring finger and one on the middle finger. All six bracelets he normally wore on his right wrist were also slipped onto hers. 

Rook inspected them with a tilted head, not a perfect fit but not too tight or loose enough she worried about them slipping off. The gold bangles jingled against each other as she examined the unfamiliar weight of them. She was confused, and his arm looked so bare without them, it felt incredibly intimate. 

“What are you doing?” She asked him. 

His hands rested on her thighs, sliding up to the belts around her waist, “if you’ll allow it, I’d like to remove these,” he ran his ringer over one of those buckles. 

“Of course I’ll allow it,” Rook frowned. 

“Wonderful,” he started unbuckling. 

She just watched him, before her unadorned hand reached for the fabric tied at his waist. “Can I?”

“No, you may not,” he smiled, with a shake of his head still tilted down to where he was undoing her trousers. His eyes lifted to hers, amused, at the huff of annoyance she gave when she let go of the fabric. 

“How are you planning on fucking me with out undressing at all?”

Emmrich had gotten the buckles undone, untucking her shirt from the trousers and began unlacing. He was quick with it, not faltering over any knots or clasps. “It seems your previous partners have made some egregious errors in their courting of you,” he told her gently, “forgive my language, but I am not going to ‘fuck you’ at all.”

The curse sounded so out of place on his tongue she almost had no idea what to say besides an inarticulate grunt of, “what?”

He untied his own sash around his waist, unfolding it and draping it across her lap. He reached underneath it, grabbing at the trousers that hung open on her and started to tug them down. Rook lifted her hips to let him, watched in confusion as he undid her boots, set them aside and sliding both underclothes and pants all the way off of her so her bare bum sat against the stone. 

As he folded her trousers very neatly to set them aside, she finally found her wits again, “Emmrich? You’re sending a lot of mixed messages right now.”

He kissed her lips, stepping back between her legs. “I’m not going to take you carelessly,” he told her. 

“Maybe I haven’t been clear,” she smiled, “I’d very much like it if you had your way with me, threw me over a gravestone or something.”

“The idea is incredibly tempting, my dear,” he assured her. “Do not mistake me, having you at my mercy is quite often on my mind.”

“Well you can’t say it like that and not follow through,” Rook reached for his shirt again. 

“Rook,” he breathed a laugh, grabbing her hands to place them on the edge of the stone. “That privilege is something that must be earned. I will not even allow myself to look upon you in all your naked glory before I have done so.”

Rook tilted her head, “but you have -“

“Please, humor me, darling,” he kissed her. “Let me do this the right way.”

This was a dance she had no idea the steps to, but she nodded her head, ready to let him show her. It was strange, to be treated like something precious. It left her feeling off kilter, unsure how to show the same care back — but if he minded he hadn’t said so. She was so full of want for him, she hadn’t been secretive about it, but maybe he liked that. It certainly seemed like he did, given the strain in his trousers. 

As Emmrich kissed her his hand slipped to the outside of her covered thighs, roaming down until he finally made contact with the skin of her calf, all the way down to her ankles, across the top of her foot. He followed a trail back up the same way, this time his hand sliding under the cummerbund draped over her lap. 

In her wildest fantasies she had taken care to imagine the drag of metal across her skin from his grave gold, but she felt the weight of it on her own hand. It was somehow even more intimate to be wearing them herself, while his hand was bare as he squeezed the generous flesh of her thigh. 

He began massaging lightly, the press of his fingers never moving into painful, and she groaned a little at the soothing feeling. His head tilted down for her neck again, and she was finding his favorite spot to kiss was right were he could feel her pulse beating. The tickle of his moustache painting a complex mix of sensations while he so gently sucked on the skin there. 

“I fear your skin may become an insurmountable vice of mine,” he said gently. 

His right hand slid down to her knee and back up the inside of her thigh. His other was tracing the curve of her torso, over her side before resting with his hand just underneath her bandeau not quite touching her breast pressing enough to feel her ribs. The anticipation was going to kill her, she was alight, nerves on fire as she wanted more — of this almost touching where she wanted him and for him to just touch her — she wasn’t sure what she would have preferred. 

His right hand had avoided the apex between her thighs, coming up to trial a line over the curve of her stomach. From her belly button and down to where the thatch of hair began, his fingers scratched gently through them before detouring to her thigh again. When he finally traced his fingers over the slick inside of her thigh, her arousal smeared there, he gasped slightly. 

“Maker, preserve me,” his voice was light as he spoke more to himself than her. 

Rook whined, biting her tongue against a string of desperate begging. 

Gentle fingers traced over her outer lips, rubbing and making her choke on the breath in her lungs. A tortuous slow exploration of her, Emmrich’s breath coming a little faster as he seemed to keep forgetting he was showering her neck with kisses — stopping with every dip into a new depth even before he reached where she was wettest for him. A gentle circle of her clit had her head thrown back with a moan that was so loud, she was almost embarrassed as he rubbed against the seam of her. 

When his fingers trailed down to her entrance, he hesitated where he found how wet she was, and then groaned. “Forgive me, I —“

He dipped a single finger slowly inside of her and then pulled his hand from her. Any protest she had died when he lifted the finger to his mouth, sucking on the bare digit, and moaning at the taste of her. 

“Emmrich,” Rook gasped. 

But he just kissed her. The hint of her own arousal on his mouth making her feel more lewd than she had ever before, and the heat of his kiss taking any logical thought away from her. His hand slipped under the fabric again, his hand angled so he could slip a finger in her a grind his palm against her clit gently. Even when Rook gasped, unable to kiss back, his mouth was on hers, tongue flicking and teeth grabbing. 

Another finger slipped into her, her arousal making the stretch easy but no less exhilarating. His bracelets around her wrist jangled against each other as she gripped at his shoulder, trying to find something to ground her, trying to touch any part of him she could. The stone at her back held her upright, and she threw her head back at a shock of pleasure when his hand finally took hold of her breast beneath her smallclothes, mouth dipping to skirt the edge of the cloth and take another pert nipple through it. 

An orgasm was approaching almost embarrassingly quickly. She spoke his name again, a desperate plea that he responded to with only a moan of his own. Her cunt clenched around his fingers, hips jolting forward, and her fingers nearly aching with the grip she had on him.

“Yes,” he murmured, pulling away to watch her. “There you are, I have you.”

Rook crumbled, panting and moaning, each roll of her hips gracefully matched by his hand. He pinched her nipple, and her legs drifted further open, back sliding down the stone a bit so she was at an almost uncomfortable angle. His hand never stopped, palm grinding against her clit, fingers pumping at just the right angle with the slightest crook of them upwards dragging against something truly sinful within her. It curled her toes and made her back arch against her will, all the while she kept fluttering her eyes open to watch him watch her. 

His mouth was parted, just slightly smiling, he may have looked cocky, too pleased with himself, except for the raw focus in his eyes. It was like the world had fallen away entirely, and she was the only one who existed to him. Hungry, pleading and slightly awestruck. He was beautiful. 

The waves of pleasure in her died down, and she opened her mouth to say something to him — but the train of thought flew away when he slipped his fingers out of her and used them to start rubbing a slow pattern over her clit. Testing the sensitivity, and watching for every micro expression. 

Need flared brightly in her again. So soon after, she felt insatiable, like she had to keep that feeling of release going forever. And he was happy to oblige her. 

“Again?” He asked.

“Yeah — yeah, again,” Rook gasped. “Please!”

Emmrich faltered at the begging, something flashing over his face that spelled out nights of wrung out pleasure and his firm hand correcting her when she slipped up. His pace quickened, his body pressing as close as he could to her without impeding his task. 

“This is what you deserve, Rook,” he told her between kisses. “To be undone, at the hands of someone who knows how to piece you back after.” He pressed his forehead to hers, “I can hardly believe you chose me.” When she tangled her fingers into his now completely ruffled hair and tugged slightly, he groaned, “I am beyond fortunate you did.”

It was hard to fully process what he was saying. “Wanted you — from the beginning,” was all she could manage. 

Emmrich stuttered a laugh, rewarding her with a pinch of her nipple again. “Insatiable minx.”

Her second orgasm came with a similar speed, but this time carried on so long she could hardly form words. Perhaps pleasure made time roll on slower than she could tell, his unrelenting pace making her eyes roll back into her head and all words cease. An internal chant of begging for more rang in her own ears but she couldn’t quite make her lips form the words. 

It was entirely overwhelming, the feeling of wanting to be splayed out for him. To let him have her whatever way he wanted. She wanted to beg him to never ever stop until she was crying and mindless.

“Good. Give me another,” Emmrich said, more a demand than a question as his other hand slipped out of her bandeau and beneath the cummerbund lain over her legs. All while one hand still played with different pressures and ministrations on her clit, the other pressed two fingers to her again. 

He caught himself, “is that alright?”

All Rook knew was that she wanted more, had to have more. She was all desire, all greedy lust, ready to do whatever he asked as long as he didn’t stop. It was terrifying, it was liberating, but it felt safe. 

“Yes,” she gasped. Finding a shred of her mind through the haze to laugh, “if you think you can manage it.”

His fingers plunged into her at the challenge, wrenching a gasp from her. “Challenging me in this area is not your best idea, Rook.”

“Are you sure?” Rook grinned, drunk on pleasure, “I’m getting exactly what I want out of it.”

“You’re much too capable of speech, darling,” Emmrich grinned back. “I shall have to rectify that.”

He was still fully clothed, and no intimate part of her was exposed to him, but it was perhaps the filthiest thing she had ever done. He had said it was just the beginning, and she believed him wholeheartedly. Even with the slick sounds of his fingers pumping in her, the way she had abandoned any kind of self-preservation to moan, and his mouth latched onto her nipple through the fabric. There was so much more on the horizon, and she was already on the verge of begging him to abandon his vow to ‘properly’ court her. 

Something was happening that she was unsure of, a stirring in her cunt that was not entirely unfamiliar. A brand new pressure, something that had teased itself in her before but never was allowed to fully bloom. In a slight panic, Rook opened her eyes, shock and awe written in the way her lips opened to pant through the sensation. 

He cooed at her, gentle encouragement and praises that made her want to please him so badly it was concerning. “Lovely, my dear,” she caught him saying, “you fall apart so beautifully for me.”

“Emmrich, I —“

 A sigh, “my name on your lips is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s — I’m going to —“ she felt like she had to warn him. 

“Yes, please,” he murmured, sounding just as desperate as her, “you’re so good to me.”

Rook fell apart again. Emmrich pulled his fingers from her as he felt her tighten around him, and to her own shock, she felt a dam break in her, a burst of wetness painting his fingers and the stone beneath her. 

Emmrich let out a whine that made her ravenous, it was needy and raw . Urgently, he kept rubbing over her clit, and it happened again. The sound wet and messy and altogether filthy. She felt tears stinging her eyes, her legs shaking and wave after wave of pleasure rolling through her body. Everything felt more vibrant, colors, sounds, every physical sensation magnified. 

 “Magnificent, Rook,” his voice lowered again. “Absolutely perfect.”

The praise hit her hard and she sobbed when he repeated the same ministrations once more. When he went to do it again she gasped, feeling like she might actually die. She was too sensitive, the stone at her back was beginning to bite and she was honestly a little scared at how her body wanted to have more still. 

“Wait,” she gasped. “Wait — it’s too much — I —“

Emmrich immediately stopped, pulling his hands away to rest on her thighs. “It seems I got carried away.”

“No, no,” Rook shook her head frantically, trying to put words together in a rush to console him. “No, it was perfect.”

“Breathe,” he reminded her, rubbing soothingly on the skin. 

Rook took in a heavy breath. He was watching her closely, but he leaned in to kiss her brow. While she caught her breath, leaning boneless against the stone, he started to clean her up, using the fabric still draped over her. Gently he wiped the mess away between her legs, and on his fingers.  

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, still getting her breath back. “I made a mess I didn’t even know I could make.”

Emmrich faltered for a moment, swallowing audibly. “The last thing you need to do is apologize, Rook, I’m glad I could enlighten you.”

He was being strange. For a moment he didn’t touch her at all, his hands firmly on the stone on either side of her, hips leaned back and taking deep breaths.

“Are you alright?” Concern made her sit up straighter, his bangles clacking against each other on her wrist when she reached out to touch his face. 

Emmrich’s eyes were glued to the jewelry on her skin for a moment. “I’m fine, dearest.” 

He flicked his eyes to hers, another wry smile on his lips that didn’t fit the bliss she was feeling at the moment. The pupils of his eyes were blown out so wide the green of his eyes were barely visible. Still he patiently watched while she caught her breath, leaning boneless against the stone. He was still straining against his trousers. Each breath he took was measured, and intentional. 

“Let me get use of my legs back,” she said suddenly, “and I’ll take care of you.”

“No need, darling,” he assured her. 

“But you just  —“

“Pardon me, Rook, but I know perfectly well what I did,” he cut her off. “It was what I intended to do, I just seemed to have… miscalculated my ability to keep my composure.”

“You don’t have to keep your composure with me,” she insisted. 

“I truly appreciate that,” he said with eyes closed as he straightened up, tall and proud, despite sporting quite an obvious erection. “But tonight was about you.”

“It can be about us.”

“It is,” he said gently, then continuing to clean up. “But you said you’d let me do this properly. You deserve to be courted selflessly.”

Rook leveled him with a look, half exasperated at this surprising new stubbornness and increasingly fond of his commitment to making her feel special. He laughed a little. 

“Put that look away, Rook,” he said, “it’s an erection, it’s hardly going to kill me.”

“But I want to make you feel good.”

Emmrich gathered up his cummerbund in his hands, licked his lips slightly and looked at her. “You’ve given me a great gift,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “the evidence of your pleasure will be more than enough to satisfy me.”

Rook was spent, or should have been anyway, but the flare in her body was instantaneous. He helped redress her while she imagined him alone in the laboratory back at the Lighthouse, holding the fabric to his nose while he stroked himself. Would he wrap it around himself, stroke himself through it? And what had she been missing out on her entire life when his special brand of seduction and devotion was already driving her quickly towards madness? 

“Emmrich,” she said, looking down at him where he was on one knee as he started putting her boots back on her feet. “Thank you.”

“It’s quite literally my pleasure, darling.”

She believed him. 

Thank you for reading!

[dellamortethelesser]

the audience

1.7k words, T

The moment the whole world came into question. Surely there had been more capable mages available to do this. Yet it was not a matter of capability. It was a question of obedience. “Good. Undo it.” Caterina’s demand left no room for question. That was why they were here. This was a test. - Andrea de Riva must undergo a final test before being accepted as a fully fledged member of the Antivan Crows.

some pre-canon andrea fic about how they became a Crow. :)

[glitteringdust]

Lucanis and Spite's reaction to Rook being trapped in the Regret prison, or, if someone already asked that, romanced Lucanis having to tell Viago (massive older brother vibes) that Crow!Rook is stuck in the Regret prison

Standing in the entrance of Rook's room, Lucanis closes his eyes.

For a moment, he swears he feels her right there— sitting on the couch, curled over her notebook making a sketch of something she couldn't get out of her head.

The room still smells of cinnamon spice from the incense she always had burning on the far dresser. Her clothes would be everywhere, along with loose notes and bits of potion ingredients scattered about.The fade window of swimming fish would remind him of the Ossuary like it always did— sending a sour storm of adrenaline straight to his chest. Only by Rook's sweet face murmuring soft reassurances would he return to the present, back in her presence.

The moment passes and he knows what he will see when he opens his eyes. Nothing is as it should be.

Rook is gone. Gone. Betrayed by Solas.

Spite bristles along his spine at the thought. Lucanis clenches a fist as he battles the demon's anger as well as his own. For once, they were both equally powerless to rescue her.

We find her. We find Rook.

Spite was angry more than anything else, bleeding into Lucanis' every thought. He wanted revenge, action… something to stab and kill and as far as the demon was concerned the team was doing nothing at all.

But they had no choice, so all they could do was bide their time, recoup their resources and figure out a plan to find Rook.

—

In the fleeting moments he's able to close his eyes and sleep, he still sees the flash of light in his dreams. A bright flash, Rook's horrified voice shouting his name, and then nothing. It was unnerving, seeing it over and over again. Spite seemed almost as incapacitated by the dreams as Lucanis was.

Emmrich once said spirits could experience intense mood shifts during stress, perhaps that was the reason why he kept bringing Lucanis' sleeping body to Rook's room. To feel better.

She always made things better.

Ever since she disappeared, everything around them had dampened. Colors, taste… all of it was muffled without her around. Was she even alive? How could they know? They killed one god, and faced two more. Who could say she hadn’t been vaporized by Solas?

No. I feel her.

“You feel her because this is her room, Spite. You don't know that she lives.”

You give up?

"Never. Not until I see her body."

There's a feeling of approval. Never again lose what's ours.

He should leave her room, if he plans to get anything done today. He needs to travel to Treviso still, update Teia and Viago about Rook. He'd already waited a week too long. He knows the conversation might end up with Viago trying to kill him, but they needed to know. They were her only other family, after all. As he turns to go, he spots a loose piece of paper peeking out from under the couch. Spite urges him to pick it up, stronger than ever.

It's a sketch of himself, outlined in purple. Underneath, the words vhenan as well as the following:

“Say it, before it's too late.”

He thinks to the night before she disappeared, how she'd come for their usual evening drink but was preoccupied. Nervous. Surely she was just anxious about the next day's events, but instead….

She loves him.

He told her not to make a promise she couldn't keep, yet here he was having broken the last half of his. He didn't keep her safe that day.

Should she not return, every blighted creature would feel his blade.

[himluv]

A Song for Believing

As promised, here is the next chapter of my Rookanis fic, Say My Name (Say it Twice). This is one of my favorites so far, so I hope you love it as much as I do!

Lucanis couldn’t sleep. An interesting feeling, considering he was usually trying to avoid unconsciousness. But tonight he felt restless, and the thought of sitting up all night in the pantry with just his demon and the itch behind his eyes seemed unbearable. So, he took a walk. 

It was never dark at the Lighthouse, which was unsettling at best and irritating at worst. After the Ossuary, he’d appreciated the unwavering daylight, but he did miss nights in Treviso. If the endless daylight bothered anyone else, they didn’t let it show. Dinner had been hours ago, and all the others were asleep. The Lighthouse was quiet, and the walk would be peaceful if not for Spite following along, narrating everything he smelled. 

Pipe smoke. And wisps. Feathers and oak. And… corruption? The demon gagged as the passed Davrin’s quarters. 

Lucanis smirked. It seemed even Spite took issue with the Grey Warden. 

Benevolence, Spite growled as they walked by the Caretaker’s workshop, even though it stood empty. So kind. So caring. So. GOOD! Bah!

They kept walking, Spite bounding ahead to avoid any of the Caretaker’s goodness tainting him. 

Cheese and sunshine. Green leaves, tender as hearts.

Lucanis wasn’t sure if that was poetic or threatening. Perhaps both. 

Old magic. Old. Knowledge! The eighth. The last. Spite looked back at Lucanis. Dangerous.

He already disliked the Archive spirit Bellara kept in her room, but now Lucanis would give it an extra wide berth. And maybe check on Bellara more often. 

Inside the library, Lucanis had one foot on the stairs, intending to do a loop around the top level of the room, when Spite flashed into being beside one of the round doors on the main floor. He hadn’t explored much of the Lighthouse, instead keeping to his space or occasionally Bellara’s or Neve’s. Meaning he had no idea where that door led.

Rook! Spite crowed. Campfire and berries. Can smell. Can. Hear!?

Spite was very good at noticing Rook’s presence – Lucanis would have believed she was behind the door even if he hadn’t heard faint music coming from within. 

Want. To see. Rook! Spite said. Want. To. LISTEN!

They shouldn’t. After what happened the last time they were alone together, Lucanis wasn’t sure he wanted to face her again on his own. 

Embarrassed? Spite inhaled. Afraid. But wants!

Lucanis sighed. The demon was right, he was very intrigued by the sound lilting through the door. The notes were stilted, exploratory, as if the person playing was figuring out the tune as they went.

Rook!

Lucanis took a step closer, and the door rolled away into the wall, revealing a room covered in murals. In the center of the room stood a piano, where Rook sat with her back to the door. She looked over her shoulder with a wince, which quickly turned to surprise as she saw him. And then, a little smile. 

“I thought you might be Emmrich coming to tell me to go to bed,” she said. 

Spite rushed into the room, sniffing at everything. Smells like paint and sadness, he said. Love found. Then denied. The sweetest regret.

Lucanis stepped further into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. “It is late,” he said.

“And yet, here you are.” She turned back to the keys, placing her fingers carefully.

“I nev–”

“–Never sleep,” she said. “I know.”

Lucanis didn’t miss the strange mix of fondness and bitterness in her voice. So… that almost-kiss had cost him something after all. 

“What is this place?” He asked. He walked to the nearest chair and sat beneath a mural of wolves flanking a sword topped with a giant eye.

Rook looked around the room, then shrugged. “I’ve been calling it the music room.” Again, she returned to the keys, her fingers searching out certain notes with care. She didn’t look at him. 

Lucanis frowned, but kept his voice soft when he spoke. He didn’t blame her for keeping him at arm’s length. “You’re upset with me.”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m not upset,” she said.

Spite lifted his head from the crate of cheese he was sniffing. Rook. Lies?

“I’m just…” she frowned down at her hands. “Confused.”

His heart sank at the dejected tone of her voice. It was there because of him. It was his fault, and he had no way to make it better. There was nothing he could say to erase all the near-misses between them. All he could give her was the truth. 

“As am I.”

Her head snapped up to look at him, but she said nothing. It seemed she was done filling in his gaps. 

Lucanis took a deep breath and clenched his fists to keep from fidgeting. “There are… things I need to deal with before I can…” he shook his head. He still couldn’t bring himself to say it. To admit out loud just how much he cared for her. 

She frowned, her brow furrowed over those crystal grace eyes. “You know, Lucanis, you talk a lot about your work.” There was a new frustration in her voice. “About what you need to do. But I still don’t know what you want.”

Want. ROOK! Spite said from across the room.

‘Want’ might be an understatement at this point. And it was still such a foreign concept to him, to want something – someone – for himself. Lucanis had a lifetime of little desires, overshadowed by the demands of his House. His family. These few months in the Lighthouse had opened him up to a new world of desire he’d never once imagined. 

He wanted to stay here, with the people he was slowly coming to think of as a new kind of family. He wanted to cook, to feed these people, and know they were cared for. That they would never know hunger. 

But more than anything, he wanted Rook. In any and every way possible. He wanted to sate her every desire – be it found in a café, or on a dinner table, or in her bed. He wanted to sleep in her arms and wake to her smiles. He wanted that easy rhythm they’d had in the kitchen, a peaceful echo of the way they moved on the battlefield. He wanted to see how that rhythm weaved its way into every day of their lives. 

His pulse thundered and his throat felt tight, but this was a different kind of panic. It wasn’t the frigid cinch of the Ossuary. It was fire and warmth, suffused through every inch of him. He swallowed against the feeling of his heart beating in his throat, and met Rook’s gaze. 

Mierda, she could stare down a dragon. He was pinned by her eyes, and he knew she wouldn’t let him go until he answered her.

“Rook, if I could…” he swallowed again, tried again. “I want…” But how did he say this? How could he, when nothing had changed from the other night? He was still a mess of a man, and she still deserved better. 

He shook his head. “Forgive me,” he said. “I’m not certain what I wish to say.”

Liar, Spite hissed. 

Rook closed her eyes, and though he knew she tried to conceal it, for once he read the disappointment on her face loud and clear. 

“For now,” he said, his voice faltering. He stopped, looked down at his feet and blinked back the emotion that had threatened to overflow. “For now, will you play for me?”

They looked at each other for a long moment. He watched as disappointment turned to sadness in her eyes. He watched them shimmer in the pale light of the Fade that streamed through the windows. And then she rolled them and cleared her throat as she looked back at the piano keys. 

“I’m not actually any good, you know.” There was that teasing tone to her voice again, and he saw a smirk twist the corner of her mouth.

That tone? Her smirk? They told him that, somehow, impossibly, she understood. She understood what he wanted to say, and understood that he couldn’t. Not yet. They told him that it was okay. That she would wait for him to find his way to her. 

Lucanis sat back, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. He didn’t want her to see the fresh wave of emotion gathering there. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, once he knew his voice would be steady.

She snorted at that, but a moment later sound filled the room. The air around him felt warmer with each keystroke, as if the notes carried all the warmth she held for him. The song cradled him, just as he imagined her arms would, and before the song was through Lucanis was asleep.

Warm, sad little notes. Like slices of a heart. Campfire and berries. Salt and coffee. Close. So. CLOSE. But, still so far. 

“He wants. You!” We want Rook. Make Rook. Happy! 

“I know, Spite.”

“Wants to talk. To touch. To taste!” 

“… I know. But you shouldn’t tell me those things.”

“Why not?”

“Because, those are Lucanis’s private thoughts.”

Grrrrrrr. “He won’t say! Too afraid.”

“He will. When he’s ready.”

“How do you know?”

“I guess I don’t, really. But I believe in him. He’ll figure this out.”

“Rook. So good. Kind. Always helps, like Benevolence… but determined, too.”

“More like stubborn.”

“Stubborn! YES! Stubborn is gooooood.”

Rook laughed… Made. Rook. LAUGH?!

“You know, Spite. I asked Lucanis what he wanted–”

“–Wants. YOU.”

“Yeah… I, uh… I got that. But, what do you want?”

“I want. OUT.”

“I know, and we’re trying.”

“No. Lucanis is not. Does not listen.”

“Well, I’m trying. We’ll figure this out.”

“Rook is stubborn. And Rook helps?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmmm.” Want to believe. Rook. Always helps.

“Do you want me to keep playing?”

“… yes.”

“If I do, will you let Lucanis sleep?”

“Ugh. Yes.”

Rook plays, sweet and soft. Notes shimmer. Like eyes when they see each other. A song for believing. 

Lucanis woke with a blanket draped over his torso. The music room was empty, with no hint that anyone had played an instrument there in years. For a sleep-addled moment, he almost convinced himself that his conversation with Rook had been a dream. But he was warm, covered by a blanket he had no memory of, and with no hint of a chill in his spine. Spite hadn’t possessed him while he slept.

Rook asked me. Let you. Sleep.

Lucanis sat up with a groan. “And you listened?”

Spite gave a dignified sniff from where he sat at the piano. Rook listens. So I listen. To Rook.

“How considerate of you.”

Spite snarled at that, but said nothing more. He busied himself trying to press the keys, though the instrument made no sound.

Lucanis rubbed at his face, marveling at how good he felt after a full night’s sleep. He’d have to thank her for whatever she’d said to the demon. And maybe see if she could do it again. He stood and folded the blanket, leaving it on the seat of the chair. He hoped he’d have cause to use it again. That maybe, if he was very lucky, she would play for him again. 

Things were far from perfect between them. In fact, they were more fragile than ever. And yet… Lucanis couldn’t help feeling oddly hopeful as he stepped out into the library. Just as he couldn’t banish the lilting echo of a piano that played over in his mind. 

He would figure this out. He would deal with his family and this demon, and then he would tell Rook exactly how he felt. And then, finally, there would be peace. For the first time, he believed it with his whole heart. 

[kiyo-cant-write]

I kind of forgot I did ask you about your favorite character and dorm. Sadly is not align, but is okay. I do want to request for Jack 👉👈🥺

About his chef card, imagine his crush is the judges and trying to impress them. While they would like to see Jack perform.

jack trying to impress his crush in culinary crucible ✧･ﾟ

.

Thank you for requesting! I actually love Jack!! I love the whole cast a lot and while he isn't my bias, I think he's cute. So this was fun to write. I like the concept of beastmen but I am a dog owner so xD

.

Summary: Jack is participating in the Culinary Crucible with his childhood friend, Vil Schoenheit. To his surprise, one of their judges is... [Name]??? Things just got interesting.

TW/CW: None

Notes: gender-neutral reader, the reader is Yuu/Ramshackle Prefect, they/them pronouns for the reader, the reader is implied to be a first-year

Guest Stars: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Idia Shroud

.

.

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Jack Howl

Jack was already going to try hard, now he's trying harder.

Vil actually has to stop Jack and tell him to breathe.

Jack is appreciative to have an upperclassman paired with him for the Culinary Crucible because he is sweating bullets at the idea of [Name] eating his food as a judge. What are the odds?

Will they like it? What will they say to him?

He wanted to do a good job for them.

Vil comments that his tail is wagging up a storm.

Jack denies it but Vil just laughs softly like the radiant upperclassman he is, knowing Jack's feelings for [Name].

Jack is trying so hard that he's almost messing up the recipe.

He is making macarons and Vil says they are hard to do.

He really wants [Name] to like them.

Jack always strives to be his best and this is no different.

He will impress [Name] with his awesome cooking skills!

Vil thinks that it's going to be quite some time before those two realize they like each other. All the same, though, he's sure they will be happy when they do.

Jack had been starring off into space for far too long and Vil wasn't having any of it. He had joined the Crucible to learn more about cooking, to see if it was something he could do while maintaining his beauty. It was hard to focus on such a task when he was watching this lovesick little puppy staring toward the judges' table where Idia Shroud, [Full Name], and Rook Hunt were sitting.

"Jack, I have had just about enough of this nonsense," Vil told him.

"Huh? What?"

That snapped Jack out of his daze. This caused him to almost mess up the task he had been mindlessly doing. It was a miracle that nothing had exploded in their face thus far with Jack's spacey mood as of late.

Vil sighed. Why were all of the first years like this?

"Jack, I need you to focus. Your behavior reflects on me as well, you know. As an upperclassman," Vil told him, pausing his own task of mixing for a moment to shoot Jack a pointed look.

"Ah, sorry," Jack offered before his eyes drifted back to [Name] again.

They were so pretty. And they were going to be judging his work? Then he had to do a good... No! A perfect job! He would impress them with his work and then they would say what a good job he had done. It was all worked out and planned for. Perfectly, if he said so himself and—

"Jack."

"Huh? What? Sorry, Vil. Did you say something?"

"I said, you'd best focus on the task at hand... My word."

Jack could sense Vil's annoyance with the situation and he was frustrated with himself too. If he was distracted, he wouldn't be able to impress the judges. He had to focus. Shifting his stance, he got back to work making the macaron batter.

Vil continued his own preparation across from Jack, watching the younger boy every once in a while to ensure he was working and not daydreaming about [Name]. It was a good thing they were allowed to use magic in this event or they would surely fall behind on time.

[Vil & Jack - Cooking Montage]

As it would happen, they completed the macarons without any kind of disaster. Vil was thankful that it was all nearly over. Wasn't that a good thing? He would have this experience for his career and not get splattered in cake or lit on fire because of Jack's lovesickness-induced negligence. The things upperclassmen do for their underclassmen...

"Ready?" Vil asked Jack.

Jack nodded, ears perking up as they were about to present their creations to the judges. Vil smiled at that. He just couldn't stay upset with him. He knew Jack meant well by all of this.

"Let's do this!" Jack said, grinning.

Together, the actor and the first-year presented their culinary masterpieces to the judges. The array of judges had varying reactions. Rook stood up immediately and praised the simple staging of the food, ready to give 100 pts on sight for the beauty of it all. Vil shot him a look as he did this.

"I'd like to know how it tastes as well as how it looks, Rook," he chided.

The Pomefiore Vice Housewarden nodded as he tried both Vil's cake and Jack's macarons, eyes sparkling the entire time. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy the food with his animated reactions to it.

Next came Idia Shroud who attempted to eat macarons with a fork (one of the ghosts mumbled about this being a "crime"). He prodded the food with the utensil and ultimately only took a few bites, pushing the plate away after that as he attempted to avoid the eyes of both Vil and Jack alike.

Finally, there was [Name]. They tried a bite of the cake Vil had made and smiled at the taste of it, giving Vil a thumbs up. [Name] might have been the only person on the judging panel who knew what they were doing. They moved to the macarons, picking up one that was a bright shade of orange and taking a bite.

"Mm, this is good!" they said, smiling.

Their reaction was enough to make Jack's heart soar. He had done it, or he thought he had. Still, the scores could tell.

In the end...

A 10 from Rook (obviously, he was about to faint from the mere thought of eating the food almost as soon as he had seen it).

A 2 from Idia (now Vil was ready to throw down but he hid it).

And a 10 from [Name], melting Jack's heart in a single motion of holding up their score marker.

Vil sighed as he went to speak to the ghosts, followed by Rook Hunt for some reason but Jack didn't ask questions about it. Vice Housewarden stuff? Maybe? Probably. Jack had other things on his mind. Tail wagging behind him, much to his chagrin, he made his way over to [Name], calling out their name to get their attention.

"[Name]! Hey. I'm glad you liked... what I made," he told them, a bit sheepish about it all.

"I did! They were good!"

[Name]'s smile was the sunshine that came through the clouds after rain, that was what Jack was feeling when they praised his work.

"Uh, I have some extras if you want more?" Jack offered.

"Eh? Really? Sure!" they said, "Grim wanted to try some, or I think he would like to. That cat sure loves his food."

"Ha, sure!" Jack agreed, "Let me go get that for you."

"Thank you, Jack! I really appreciate it!" [Name] told him.

Jack's face reddened at the words. It was so simple but it got him.

He made his way back into the kitchen, tail wagging up a storm and face growing redder with every passing minute. It was painfully obvious what this was but Jack couldn't figure out why his heart was racing and he felt so... floaty?

Vil watched from a few feet away with the ghosts (and Rook). He sighed, he might have to step in if Jack remained unawares.

A minute later, Jack walked back to [Name] with some packaged macarons for them.

"Ah. Here you go, [Name]."

He handed them the package.

"Thanks again!" they said as they put the package of food in their bag, "I'll tell you what Grim's thoughts are too if you want."

They giggled as they spoke.

Jack only nodded, trying his best to calm down the heat on his face.

"Sure," he told them.

"Alright, it's a date!" [Name] said before heading off to their next period.

The wolf watched as they left the dining hall. What was he going to do? What would he say? Was it a date? Had he been on a date before? He tensed up at the thought that there was some protocol for this.

Who would he ask? Ace would laugh at him. Deuce wouldn't be able to help. Grim wouldn't be able to either. He didn't want to tell Ruggie and Leona... That left...

Sighing, he walked up to the table where the two Pomefiore students sat, taking an empty spot next to the dorm's housewarden.

"Hey. Vil... I'd like to, uh, ask you something," he said, trying not to seem as nervous as he was about asking an upperclassman something like this, "If it's not a bother."

Was he supposed to ask his upperclassmen about these feelings? They did say they would be there for their underclassmen... Right?

"Oh? And what might that be, Jack?" Vil hummed.

.

.

…Imagine the rest yourself~ <3

.

.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^