#DA drabble

[amoaliquis]

Senka : "I'll tell you the tale of a charming rogue who stole the heart of a hapless hero."

I've seen a few takes where some interpret Rook's phrasing to mean that they consider themselves hapless.

Cool, cool.

Allow me to divert sharply here: Senka doesn't. Consider herself hapless, I mean.

She knows Lucanis loves to read romances. (She notes every little thing this man does. It is a habit borne of being a Crow. You can't be a good assassin without a focused mind and a meticulous attention to details.) Thus, in this moment she is weaving their love story for him via the "comfort" of her voice using verbiage she knows those books rely on.

Perhaps one day, Sen will even write their tale down in one of those fancy leather journals she came across on the desk in the Wolf's Den.

Solas won't mind. Not that she cares if he does.

Dellamorte and de Riva ... their story in her handwriting, the stark contrasts of black ink on cream parchment... something with a ridiculous title like: "Piccola Morte". [She's not a writer. She's a fucking assassin.]

But it IS something she winds up doing.

For him.

Years later...

"Piccola Morte" By Senka de Riva Dellamorte

Randy Dowager - Four and a half knives deftly sheathed out of five.

Solas finds a signed copy in the Lighthouse years later. To the Dread Wolf... He and Lavellan stay up all night reading it.

Senka understood the assignment.

[moechies]

oh please more bunny reader and toji they’re so cutesy. maybeeeee reader has really sensitive tail/ears and toji really takes advantage of that?

tamer! toji who’s the roughest with his little client bunny. well, your previous owner is to blame. he claims that you’re the pickiest, messiest, neediest bunny that needs to be put in her place ; with none other but a little bit of force.

tamer! toji who doesn’t really like rodents , but he assumes he could make an exception for you; since you’re cute and fluffy. just this once though , bunny !

tamer! toji who doesn’t let your brat antics slip past him, and makes sure that you know your place at the end of the day. he can’t let your owners tedious cash payment go to waste !

“d-don’t touch my ears !” you whine, soft sobs spilling from your pouty lips. the man has both your ears in a strong, unforgiving grip, looking to teach you a lesson for sneaking into his washroom for a peek.

the thin, white towel he has around his waist hangs dangerously low and not to mention, loose, and your wandering eyes can’t help but notice the fat chub that shows through the fabric.

“fuckin’ perverted bunny. ya need a whoopin’ to learn yer place ?” he sneers, lowering his face to face yours. you paw at his hand, thumb slipping against his burly fingers, “hn— no— it hurts ! w-was an accident , swear ! i got lost !”

toji can’t help but grin at your limpid lies; he can see right through you, little bunny.

y’r gonna learn not to lie t’me ever again tonight, bunny.”

tamer! toji who carries you towards his bed as you writhe in his grip, ignoring your little mewls and complaints about your sensitive ears as you rub incessantly at the sore flesh.

tamer! toji who bends you over in the grossest arch against his towel-clad lap, feeling his warm skin against yours as the towels knot grows weaker and threatens to slip. he tugs off your soft shorts, revealing that soft, chubby bunny butt.

tamer! toji who’s surprised when he sees how fluffy your little cottontail is, twitching nervously under his gaze.

tamer! toji who even more surprised when he takes a sneak peek at your bunny cunt , just to see how slicked up your chubby folds are, soft hole throbbing with your carnal needs. what a pervert.

“no ! d-don’t look there !” you squeal, frantic paws attempting to scurry away from the man’s grasp.

his hand comes down unexpectedly with a hard smack across your ass, the soft flesh growing raw to the touch. your throat elicits a small gasp of shock, falling pliant against the man’s lap. you’re quick to burst into tears, even if you don’t want to; but it truly hurts so bad!

“bad bunnies need t’learn.” toji coos, kneading at the raw skin. it makes you flinch against his touch. “bad, perverted bunnies.” he whispers against your soft ears, making them twitch.

he tugs at the soft tuft of your cottontail, exposing your puckered asshole soft to the touch.

“n-no!” your tail twitches against his hold, shaky hand coming behind to cover yourself.

“hey.” he spits, a rough hand grappling at the chub of your ass almost like a threat, “y’think y’r in any place to tell me no right now ?”

his hand slaps down against your plush ass once again, the sting inevitable as he holds you firmly. your hands ball into fists that shoot up to your eyes, furiously wiping away at your newfound tears, soft hiccups that accompany your cries.

“that’s it, y’r learning.” you submit helplessly below him, watching intently at your softened ears pliant against the cushion. “y’know what you need to do?”

“m—m sorry. ‘m sorry mister…!” you burst into tears once again, little toe pads curled up into ‘c’s in a fear of feeling his punishing hand on the hot burn of your ass yet again. you don’t know if he’d punish you for your loud cries yet, but you simply can’t hold back. he’s breaking your little bunny heart.

“oh..” he sighs, he feels a tad bit bad; he supposes. he watches as your forearm slaps across your face to hide your expression, your other hand in an attempt to protect your burning cheek. “hey.”

you peek up at him with a tiny stare, hiccups still reverberating through your body causing you to bounce against his lap. you ignore the fat chub that pokes at the side of your tummy, flaunting shamelessly through the fabric of toji’s pants.

“come to this room t’ night after yer duties. y’took yer punishment well.” toji grimes, and he adores the way your eyes light up like diamonds. his friend down below seems to adore it just as much as he does, too.

tamer! toji who sees you peek in half of your head at the designated time that he asked you to come, nervously treading along the glazed floors with a glint of fear that he’ll continue his punishment.

don’t think of him so lowly, bunny. he really isn’t that mean!

tamer! toji who takes care of you that night; after a bit of coercing and getting you on your tummy, ripping your frilly panties from your bruised butt and pressing in a thick plug. he thinks the pink diamond is terribly gorgeous in contrast to your soft tail, twitching with pain at the unfamiliar feeling.

tamer! toji who preps you briefly, leaning down to block your view of his hefty fingers slipping in between your chubby folds. “s—sir!” it’s not like you don’t feel it, but he loves to make a little face at you that makes you look crazy!

tamer! toji who fucks you brutally against his soft matress that night, relentlessly humping into the depths of your gushy cunt. he can’t get enough, truly. you’re one damn bunny.

he watches you skillfully, the little plug snug in your ass squeezing against his cock from the inside. he feels the hard metal that bulges from the other side of your soft walls, grunting at the tightness.

tamer! toji who can’t help but cum fat loads in your cunt when he hears your little cries, sweet yelps for your ‘mister’ to come and save you. it’s even better when they slowly grow to cute moans and pleads to cum all over. don’t worry, bunny. your new mister will be sure to tug at your cottontail and rub your clit, just to ensure his bunny a good time.

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... (‘here, take my jacket’)

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge - Day 1 - @the-slumberparty

Warnings: (410w) possessive Bucky (willing reader), mention of rough sex

Imagine dating possessive, beefy Bucky. He’d be so obsessed with you, making sure you only have eyes for him, giving you everything you could ever want. He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you, squeezing your soft flesh every chance he got, growling all the things he loves about you, all the things he plans to do you. At his insistence, you’d wear as little as possible around the house, giving him every opportunity to admire and touch what’s his. You don’t even mind when you go out and he makes it obvious to everyone around who you belong to, his intimidating metal arm visible and gleaming under the lights. And when the stares start to get to him, men leering at your curves, their eyes lingering far too long in places that have Bucky seeing red, he’d offer you his jacket. You’d barely have a chance to respond before he’d drape it over you, buttoning the collar to secure it around your shoulders, shielding more of your body from view. When you’re feeling extra bold, you’d ‘accidentally’ let the button pop open, his jacket barely falling off before he’d grab it and give you a warning look that you’re playing with fire. All it’d take is a slight shrug and a soft laugh as if you’re daring him and he’d pull you into a darkened alley, pushing you up against the rough bricks to remind you who's in charge. He’d put his jacket back around you, make sure you’re comfortable, but his hands would be anything but gentle. Metal fingers inside your bra, squeezing your tit, pinching your nipple - his right hand under your skirt, ripping your tights to find you dripping for him. He’d make you moan his name, listen to you beg him to fuck you, tease you about wanting to get caught. And when you'd get too loud, he’d pull you into a sloppy kiss to silence your cries, your legs wrapped around him as he relentlessly fucked you, his bruising thrusts leaving you breathless. He wouldn’t stop until you came at least three times, your pliant body being held up by his metal arm, his other hand cradling the back of your head, keeping you from hitting against the wall as he slammed into you, your tight heat milking him dry. Afterwards, he’d take you home and clean you up - probably just to get you dirty all over again, but it's not like you'd ever complain.

Imagine... Masterlist | Day 2

Banners by @cafekitsune - Divider by @saradika-graphics

[diz-eaze]

love is not over (come back into my arms)

; yandere albedo, modern au, yearnerbedo realness, not proofread i wrote this in one go </3, word vomit, female (y/n), it's sweet before it turns toxic, manipulation.

it's a fact that not many people know, but albedo has a long, extensive history with you that can be traced back to the time the two of you wore diapers to sleep. the first friend either of you made were each other, a result of your moms being part of the same sorority back in college. whereas he was all magnifying glasses and bug taxidermy, you were sparkly tutus and playing house with dolls.

that is to say, he grew up with you, and you grew up with him.

still, an intersection happens somewhere. despite your avoidance of his taxidermied bug collection, you still reluctantly allowed some of them ("only the pretty ones, like butterflies!") to join in on your doll sessions. in turn, he allowed you to tinker and mess with his science equipment lying around whenever you came over to visit.

one time, during his sixth birthday, you gifted him a lab coat alongside a male doll. when questioned on the unexpected toy, you flashed him a smile (a crooked one, with two front teeth missing) and told him that he himself can finally join you when playing house, as the dolls' father.

if his memory serves correctly, that occasion marked the first time he had ever visibly smiled at you. even now, at present day, that male doll you gifted him is still settled nicely inside its packaging box, rarely ever touched. he never really had the thought to throw it out.

but childhood is not eternal. several years later, you would eventually put down your cute, small dolls in favor of picking up makeup and dipping into the world of fashion. gone were the days when you'd drag him outside into the local park, pleading with him to just put down his biochemistry textbook for at least ten minutes. it's all exchanged with days spent inside your room, with you spending the entire afternoon trying to perfect your eyeliner while he does his homework.

eventually, you stopped hanging out with him altogether. you found other friends who had the same interests as you. the drift apart was gradual, but still felt.

you changed so much in a short amount of time while albedo stayed the same, stagnant as ever. you are the waves crashing into the rocks ashore, and albedo is the calm, serene pond.

your severance with him posed the question within his mind: how does one mourn the loss of a dear connection, the considered other half of his soul?

an answer from him never came, for he chose to cope by burying himself even further into his studies. he stopped studying in his room, because there were pieces of you left behind. each with sentimental memories entwined within. the star-shaped hairclips, beaded bracelets, doll clothing, and the very first fashion magazine you ever owned - one which he bought with his own allowance... to throw it all away would mean to rip his own heart out.

so he settles with the local library, and when he entered uni, the campus library. and he lets the memories of you fester in his head like some untreated wound.

nowadays, you pass by him inside the university buildings like he's nothing more than a stranger to you. he dares not admit it, but it stings more than he'd like.

rekindling comes in the form of a coincidental subway meeting.

it's winter break, a time for students to come back to their hometown and family. dressed in multiple layers of clothing and a thick, blue scarf to nuzzle into, albedo steps onto the platform to wait for the train to arrive. his earbuds are placed into his ears, already pulling up spotify.

but the flash of your favorite color in his peripheral vision causes his thumb to remain hovering over the green icon. his breath hitches, and he resists the urge to look. it's just a trick of his mind. sure, you two may be from the same city, but he's sure you already went home hours before him. he would know, because he lingered outside your dorm room for a few minutes before he left for the train station.

it's just a trick of his mind, a byproduct of you having permanent residence inside his head for years now.

it's just a trick of his-

"oh... albedo," your soft acknowledgement comes behind him, causing him to whip his head in record speed to face you.

out of all the things he expected today, he didn't expect to speak to you after so many years. still, he gulps, and greets you in turn.

"(y/n),".

you nod and don't say anything more after. instead, you walk up to be beside him and pull out your own headphones. but he can't leave it here just like that, he absolutely can't.

"how has auntie been?" he questions, subtly pulling up his blue scarf to hide the lower half of his face, no doubt already red, and it's not because of the freezing air. he faces ahead, staring into the empty railroads.

you flinch, as if personally scalded by his inquiry.

"she's been fine," you begin, putting your headphones back into your bag. "been pestering me about relationships, so that means she's more than doing okay."

your lighthearted jab causes him to let out a huff of amusement, which causes your attention. you turn to face him, the action makes his heart spike. your left hand plays with the hem of your cardigan, a telltale sign of you becoming anxious.

"what... what about you? how have you been?"

"you're not going to ask about my mother?" albedo tilts his head in confusion, yet it doesn't stop the hope blooming in his chest. the tips of his ears burn brighter.

"no," your reply is rushed out, "i don't need to, i speak to auntie rhine over the phone regularly. so.... that just leaves you."

a second of silence overcomes both of you.

"i've... been doing okay," a huge lie. he even brought some of your old things with him the day he moved into the dorms because some days, he misses you more than life itself.

then, with his thundering heart, he takes the risk to add on, "...i just miss you, i suppose, that's all."

the moment the words leave his lips, he homes in on the way your face twists into one of pain, as if addressing the plague between your former friendship with him puts you under torture. you take a step back, as if preparing to run away, but you don't. instead, you take deep, steady breaths as if to calm your nerves down.

albedo has to physically stop his hand from reaching out to comfort you. then, out of nowhere, the dam breaks.

"i'm really sorry, albedo," you bow a perfect 90 degrees, causing the dangling accessories in your winter outfit to chime. "i know i must have hurt you... a lot. by the time i realized my mistake, i- i was in too deep...! too much of an absolute wuss to do anything... so i just, ignored you, like some- some bitch!"

the admittance of your wrongdoings is nothing in comparison to the stinging pain in his chest when he sees clear droplets falling to the ground. crying - you're crying. because of him.

wasting not a single second, albedo rushes in to engulf you in a hug. it's been years since he last hugged you, so the feeling of your body is now unfamiliar to him, an objective he must remedy as soon as possible.

the train arrives, but neither of you make any move to part from each other. a delay will end up costing hours of time wasted before another one arrives, yet albedo hardly finds it to be a problem when he'll be spending the entire time in your company.

and suddenly, he can't even remember the reason why you two ever stopped being friends in the first place.

his grip on your shoulders tightens, and he burrows his face into the crook of your neck to hide the curve of his lips.

"it's okay," he murmurs, muffled, still smiling unbeknownst to you, "i forgive you, let's just go back to the way it was before."

you sniffle, nodding your head again and again, "yeah, let's."

it's as if he's been transported back in time, where the only world he knew consisted of you and him, with your parents being the supporting characters.

the winter frostbite has nothing on the warmth you provide to him.

just like old times, has become a phrase that albedo heavily favors recently.

when you need to study, he'll offer to study together in his or your dorm room. should you feel the need to visit the cafe, albedo will tag along, y'know, for old time's sake. in the early mornings, while you're getting ready, albedo will come knocking on your door to watch you do your makeup.

just like old times.

these days, though, you slowly let him do more and more of your makeup routine, even surprised at the skill level he possesses. it's nearly impossible for him to be a first-timer at this, so while doing your eyeshadow, you take the opportunity to tease him.

"you're skilled at this, 'bedo," he merely hums at your comment, moving with precision only expected of a lab nerd like him, "you must have had a girlfriend these past few years because of that, huh?"

he stills at that.

from above, teal-tinted eyes bore into your own. he blinks. then, a huff of amusement.

"no, don't think of nonsense like that," albedo chides you, teasingly flicking your forehead, causing you to yelp.

you whine out in response, "it's not nonsense!"

"it is."

this banter... it feels like home. it's akin to a warm blanket enclosing around your figure with a kiss goodnight on the forehead.

albedo, in his entirety, is home himself.

and rekindling your friendship with him feels like opening the door to your home after a treacherous journey from the mountains.

this time, you tell yourself, you won't let your friendship with him fade into obscurity once more. you'll do anything it takes.

anything.

"is this the guy?" you jerk your phone to show him your screen, waiting for confirmation. briefly, albedo looks up from his lab assignment to view the Instagram profile presented. he returns his attention back to his lab assignment.

"yes, block him. he's bad news,"

"why?" you prod, not an accusation, but one of curiosity. because you do block him, you trust albedo's judgement more than anyone else in the world, after all.

"i heard he goes around hitting on freshman students, you know, a super senior," he shrugs, eyes honing in on his microscope's lenses.

you let out a giggle at that, not expecting albedo, of all people, to say the term super senior. "got it, boss." you mock salute.

"if there's any more creeps following my insta, just tell me, okay?"

"oh, i will," he voices with conviction.

a few days later, the guy albedo made you block confronts you after lecture. you tell him upfront that he's a creep preying on freshman students. instead of the embarrassment or guilt you envisioned he'd have, all you see is befuddlement.

he tells you that you got it all wrong.

you frown, turning around and walking forward without sparing him a single glance.

just who does he think he is, trying to tell you otherwise? bah, the audacity of seniors like him.

"we're all going to the newly opened cafe next week, right? right?" mualani asks around for confirmation, and is met with a chorus of agreements.

you, in particular, raise your hand in agreement, "i am!"

before mualani could audibly cheer, rosaria butts in.

"yeah, and bring your prissy boyfriend again, sure," she snarks out, filing her sharp nails. at that, you tilt your head in confusion, blinking.

"what? 'bedo's not my boyfriend," you counter, leaning back into the bean bag.

"and the sky is green, very funny." rosaria rolls her eyes, sarcasm rolling off her in waves. you start to get annoyed.

"i'm not kidding! he really isn't, we're just good friends, that's all." you insist, looking at amber next to you for emotional support. yet she looks lost at what's brewing in front of her.

at that, rosaria's spiteful expression drops into one of.... you can't really put into words. she lowers her nail filer down, eyes narrowing.

"are you sure? because we saw him shoving his tongue down your throat when the cab door was closing when he came to pick you up from the club last week."

it's your turn to be confused - outright baffled, even. what does she mean by that? the thought itself just seems so outlandish to you.

"yes, rosa... i'm quite sure." you frown, racking your brain for any possible answers as to what exactly they saw, because there's no recollection of anything similar of that vein in your memories. "maybe it's just someone similar to me?"

"wow, so he's going around kissing girls who look eerily similar to you? not helping at all, chief," chiori chimes in while sewing a top. "no, but seriously, we know what we saw, (y/n). that girl is definitely you."

"forreal," even xilonen agrees in despite napping a few seconds ago. "i don't think there's anyone else in the word who carries around that obscure dating sim character keychain that's always dangling on your phone."

your previous irritation melts into confusion. because this many friends of yours agreeing that they saw you making out with albedo is no mistake on their part. did you accidentally come onto him last week?

you'll talk to him about it later.

when you confront albedo about it a few hours later, you're instead questioned by him.

"well, do you believe them? your friends, i mean,"

you blink, hesitating, "uhm, i don't know."

"your hesitation is considered one of agreement. i see, you're doubting me." his unexpected icy words, causing you to widen your eyes, stumbling over words.

"w- what? no! i would never doubt you, 'bedo! I'm just wondering if it really happened, that's all!" you flail your arms around, hoping that he won't take great offense to your words.

"then allow me to ask you again; do you believe them?" he questions once more, eyes boring into the sweat forming on the surface of your skin. "answer me with full honesty, (y/n)."

frowning, your gaze sweeps down to the ground, "...no. not at all, albedo. i promise you."

he hums then, and moves to stand up from your bed, "i know, (y/n). i know."

albedo looks behind him as he opens your room's door, he gives you a small smile. "i know you wouldn't betray me, because you're atoning for your sins right now, isn't that right? you left me before once, and you're on the path of redemption, right?"

he's waiting for you to agree, you realize.

"...yeah."

"it makes me really happy to see you put so much effort into our friendship, (y/n). it's just like old times."

the door promptly closes.

you're left alone with your thoughts.

albedo's right.

you wronged him once, you can't wrong him again just because of the prejudiced beliefs people hold over him. you know albedo, and he's not the villain your friends make him out to be.

he's simply not the type to act like that.

you get into a fight with your friends the following week. it ends in a rift between you and them, and you promptly ignore their chats to remedy things.

but it's okay, because albedo's there to listen to you rant about people whom you previously thought to be your friends.

at least you still have him, despite the great mistake of leaving him on your part.

you suppose that it all comes down to the two of you in the end.

in albedo's own dorm room shelf lies a male and female doll in their respective box packaging. they both look like they've seen better days, but the weary appearance they sport is only a sign that they were deeply loved at one point.

you own the female doll, and gave him the male one.

tl;dr you lowkey abandon your childhood friend when puberty hit which caused him to have abandonment issues that comes to bite you in the ass when you rebuild your friendship with him. moral lesson: never look back on the friends you abandoned bc they might be in love with you and plotting how to take you back all this time :) /j

[quitesins]

Edit: Heyyy wrote a little drabble from this idea yay!!! | And more!! | And even more!!

Non Mc!Reader who finds out she isn’t human, but a dragon, as her beastly features start to come in. She’s confused and scared by the sudden burn in her skull, the foreign skin growing on top of her own. And Sylus who finds her first, either through rumours or chance, looking at the pitiful thing and deciding to take her in, despite all his conflicting feelings.

Naturally, he is curious. He is meant to be the last of his kind. Beyond himself, he has never seen a dragon before. You confuse him a little.

Another part is protective, how quickly would you become a subject, threatening his existence just by being studied for yours.

And a soft part of him becomes a child again. Seeing himself alone to the changes of his body, alone to becoming a monster, alone to live out the rest of his days…

He can’t just leave you here. It wouldn’t be fair.

[imaginary-eddie]

Mike rambling on and on about how he doesn't think steve is good enough for him and he told him so and Eddie being like "dammit Wheeler, he hasn't talked to me in a week!?" All screechy as he runs off. And then appears in Steve's yard with a boom box blasting 'You're the One That I Want' from the Grease sound track.

(really Steve didn't give a hoot what lil wheeler had to say because he also said the same thing about Eddie, he just has the flu)

(Everytime Eddie tried to call the house or see him Robin would be there, unhelpfully, rambling out "he can't talk right now!" While trying not to burn the soup and grilled cheese she's making him)

(Eddie went to the kiddos afraid he'd unknowingly triggered alternate dimension trauma, but they were unhelpful so this was his plan b)

(it works, they kiss, and then Steve is left taking care of Eddie when he gets the flu)

(Robin uses her flu to get some attention from Nance)

[girlwithadragonheart]

hey i’m obsessed with lucanis (and spite) as well! I’m wondering if you would be interested in a mourn watcher elf rook x lucanis and have it be the week (or weeks i can’t remember) of rook being trapped in solas’ regret prison. i feel like spite would be pissed and confused as to why rook is missing! thank you and best wishes :)))

Lights Out

Pairing: GN!Rook x Lucanis (x Spite)

Summary: Rook is gone. Lucanis is grieving. Spite is restless.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Really depressing shit, spoilers obviously

A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t longer! I felt like dragging it out too much takes away from the visceral gut punch it is.

DATV Masterlist

Death was all Lucanis had ever known.

It clung to him like a shadow, a constant presence in his life as a Crow. It was his trade, his art, and his curse. The blood he spilled lined his pockets but left scars on his soul, marks he carried with him even when he tried to move beyond the life he once embraced. But death had always been something controlled. Until now.

Rook was gone. You were gone.

He stood in the doorway to your room, once petrified by the thought of how it reflected the Ossuary, now only drawn to what was left of your presence. His hands flexed at his sides, his chest feeling hollow.

The night was heavy with silence, the Lighthouse mourning the loss of its leader. Spite stirred uneasily in the recesses of his mind, his voice a low growl that rippled with confusion. “Where. Is. Rook?” The demon hissed, each word sharp as one of his daggers.

Lucanis didn’t respond immediately. He had no answer, and the truth stung worse than any wound.

Spite pressed on, his voice gaining a harsh edge. “Where. Is. Rook?!”

Lucanis could feel Spite’s frustration growing as he was ignored. Your absence was a gaping void, a wound that bled frustration and fear and loss. There was nothing he could do. The Fade was something so far out of his understanding, even with the demon possessing him. Still, he’d spent days searching, combing every lead, every thread of information he could grasp, only to find himself standing here, fists clenched in futile rage.

“Lucanis!” Spite snarled.

All he heard was you screaming his name as you were pulled into the Fade. He relived that moment every time he closed his eyes. What could he have done different? You had survived against impossible odds, and he had gotten his second shot at Ghilan’nain, somehow killing her. That high was quickly dashed as he watched your wide eyes, saw you reaching for him, screaming for him as you were dragged out of his reach.

“They’re gone, Spite,” Lucanis whispered, barely audible. 

“Where?” He demanded, pushing against the boundaries of Lucanis’s mind as though searching for you.

“I don’t know,” Lucanis’s voice was ragged as he huffed, taking a step further into your room and closing the door behind him. He ran a hand through his already-mussed hair. “They’re gone,” he repeated.

The faint scent of Nevarran spices drifted around the room, and the lingering smell of your oils. The things you had on a day to day basis haunted him. The Nevarran urns around the room and hastily scribbled notes on Elven architecture and the runes you’d found during the group’s travels. 

Lucanis didn’t have the heart to go any further in the room, his back pressed firmly against the door. His chest was tight, and he was finding it almost impossible to breathe, but all he wanted was to drink in your scent as long as it lingered. It was all he had left of you.

He had fought his way through countless battles, defied impossible odds, endured the Ossuary, and survived Ghilan’nain’s wrath, but none of it mattered now. The one light in his life had been extinguished. Every breath hit him like a blow to the chest, the tangible reminder of your presence that made his breath hitch. Every object in this room screamed your name, echoing in the silence that now filled the space.

Lucanis pressed harder back against the door, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. He forced himself forward, gripping the edge of the chaise lounge as he sat down heavily. His head fell into his hands as the weight of his grief threatened to crush him. He had dared to hope. After years of blood and shadows, he had begun to believe he could have something more---someone more. And now, that hope lay in ruins.

Spite stirred uneasily in the recesses of his mind, his presence a simmering heat that was neither comforting nor intrusive. The demon was quiet at first, an uncharacteristic stillness that only deepened the ache in Lucanis’s chest.

The room seemed to shrink around him, the walls pressing closer as the grief threatened to suffocate him. He reached out, almost without thinking, and picked up one of the notes you had left on the desk. The parchment was worn, the ink smudged in places, but your handwriting was unmistakable. His thumb traced the curves of your letters, his hands trembling as he clutched the note like a lifeline.

“You were my freedom,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. Tears blurred his vision, spilling over to streak down his face. “The only thing that made all of this worth it.”

Spite’s presence shifted, his usual arrogance subdued by something almost… mournful. “Rook…” the demon murmured, his voice a low growl that trembled at the edges.

Lucanis’s grip on the note tightened, his teeth clenched as guilt and rage swirled within him. “I failed them,” he hissed,his voice trembling with self-loathing. “I should have done more. I should have saved them.”

Spite didn’t argue. Lucanis wasn’t sure he was listening at all. The demon was restless, his silence heavy, a shared grief that settled over them both. “Rook.” Spite said again, pushing against Lucanis’s skull. He wouldn’t settle. He couldn’t. Spite wouldn’t stop moving, stop searching, looking through Lucanis, looking through the room, searching for his Rook.

“Spite…” Lucanis said wearily. “Spite, they’re gone,” he repeated, his voice cracking.

“Rook!” Spite pounded against Lucanis’s mind, screaming as though it would do anything to bring you back.

“Spite, enough!” Lucanis yelled finally, hands tangling in his hair. “Rook is gone! Gone! The one good thing---” His voice broke, and he couldn’t finish. The anguish in his chest was too much, a wound that refused to heal.

Lucanis pressed the note against his chest, his shoulders shaking as he fought to contain the sobs threatening to escape. For a long moment, he simply sat there, the silence of the room broken only by his ragged breaths. The scent of you lingered, faint but persistent, wrapping around him like a ghostly embrace.

Spite shifted again, his presence like a smoldering ember in the back of Lucanis’s mind. “Lucanis…” the demon growled quietly.

Lucanis’s hands stilled, his breath catching. “I know…” he whispered. “I know.”

You were gone.

And he didn’t know if you could come back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I'm not crying, you're crying ;-;

Let me know if you want to be on the Lucanis Tag List <3

Tag List: @cirillabelle

[twdxtrevor]

These two are just so cute, I need to see them causing mischief together again . .

[14dayswithyou]

The 14DWY brainrot is real... >_< were ypu planning on sharing koi ren's design here too or is it discord only for now? remember to drink lots n lots of water today 🐸☔️

i don't rmbr if i included this but can you share any koi crumbs too?

✦゜ANSWERED: aaaaa I'm 14 years late to this ask (/silly), but thank you for reminding me!! I'll add the new Mer Ren design to da queue >:3

I'll also put the Koi Ren (I'm rocking with this new name!!) crumbs under the cut!!

"Stop rocking the boat, Ren." Without sparing a glance in his direction, you continue to stare out into the vast, open lake. "You'll scare away all the fish."

Had you turned around, you would've seen the faux-deadpan look on his face as Ren takes in the irony of your words. As if to prove a point, he gently swishes his tail in the water, which causes small ripples to form and (eventually) disturb your bobber. "I don't think the boat is the problem here."

"Okay, how about this... One more fish, then we can go back." You finally look back at your scaley companion — who was still leaning against the edge of your tin boat with a lazy smile — and give him a resolute nod. "Promise."

"Sure," Ren casually reaches into the boat to pick and pluck at some of your live bait. "But you said that about the last three fish."

"This will be the last one. I swear."

"You... swear?" You try to ignore the way Ren swallows up one of your minnows as if you weren't using them for bait as he continues to speak, "Like... curse words? Humans sure are weird creatures."

As if realising his comment, Ren's ocean-blue eyes widen slightly and shift towards your form. "N-Not... Not you, though."

With a laugh, you playfully try to nudge him off of the boat. All it does is cause it to tip slightly, but Ren steadies it when you show signs of losing balance.

"Alright. One more fish, then?"

You nod and cast your attention back to your rod once more. You don't even notice the silence — nor Ren slipping away — until you suddenly feel a tug on your line and call out to your companion in excitement. "That was quick!"

Quickly reeling it in, you wonder what kind of fish you'd just caught — it's definitely stronger than you anticipated, given how the rod drastically bends and snaps at every movement from the fish. And just as you see the shadow from the murky depths get closer, the ripples get bigger and cause a stir underneath your tin boat. Standing up now, you try with all your might to reel it on board...

...Only for a mess of black hair to emerge from below and peer up at you with a smug look.

"Ren!"

"Looks like you got a big one."

"C'moooon." You practically whine, though you allow Ren to haul himself into your tiny boat and rest his head in your lap. You can still feel his body shake from underneath your touch, no doubt still laughing at his poor attempt at a joke. "This doesn't count."

A beat passes before your fishy companion responds. "...Hm? Fine then."

Another moment of silence follows before he slithers back into the water without another word. Half of you worries that you might've said something to offend him (there was still the tiniest hint of a language barrier between you two). Still, it ultimately leads to nothing as Ren soon emerges once more — only this time, he's hauling the biggest largemouth bass you'd ever seen into your boat.

"This good enough?" He looks at you with wide, blue eyes. "If not, I can probably find a sturgeon and—"

"It's bigger than my boat!"

"Is this what your kind calls... exaggeration? Because your boat is big enough even for me to—"

"—Arghh! It's getting water everywhere! Put it back!"

It was almost comical how Ren tossed the fish over his shoulder and back into the water without breaking eye contact with you.

Another wave of silence hits, yet neither of you seems to move or break the awkward staring contest you'd somehow started. It's then when you notice Ren's grin get bigger — most likely at your resignation and embarrassment — which causes you to fall back into your seat in defeat.

"Fine. Enough fishing for today. Let's head back." Busying yourself with the bucket of fish and tacklebox in front of you, you secure your gear and pack everything away. But it seems Ren had other plans, seeing as he took it upon himself to climb back into your boat and rest his arms on your legs. No longer able to move as freely, you have no choice but to indulge in his carefree whims.

"But you caught me. Aren't you going to bring me home too?"

"As much as I want to," Truly, you do. You've always wanted to show Ren the world outside of Lake Bluemoss. "There's no way I'm carrying you all the way down the mountain."

"You never know until you cry."

"Try." You correct him. "Until you try."

"Your kind sure are funny." Ren nuzzles himself closer. "Perhaps another time, then... Stay here tonight."

Your body pricks up at his words, and you spare a glance at the abandoned boathouse near the dock. Despite its rough and rugged exterior, you and Ren actually made it quite comfy. It had some of your old blankets and sheets thrown over one of the boats to make it comfortable to lounge in — alongside a giant empty tank that you and Ren filled with water for him to sit in as well. Despite the lack of human traction, the place still felt homey and well-loved.

"...I guess I could."

"Then what are we waiting shore?"

You had to roll your eyes at his attempt at a pun.

[treviso-nights]

"and don't even get me started on fenris" I would like to hear it

—and THEN there is fenris, who meets you by chance, and yet there is the sense that you are someone to trust, to depend on. he feels broken by his past, eventually confiding in you, saying, "it's a sickness, this hate. this dark growth inside me that i can't ever get rid of, and they put it there." and then he kisses you because you are the only thing in his world which does not feel like sickness, like hate, but in the end, it all becomes too much, and he pulls away.

or does he?

because he starts to wear a red sash around his wrist, in your name. and on his belt is now the amell crest; your crest; because you are his home, even if he can't bear to say the words out loud just yet. even so, he follows wherever you go, making sure that you're safe and protected from every conceivable evil. when you call for him, he is there; when your mother is taken from you, he is there, even if the words still do not come.

and finally, when they do come, it is because you have loosened the shackles around his very spirit; and it is only when he is in your arms does he realize that he is free, he is home, he has been home all along, and he tells you, "i felt like such a fool. i thought it better if you hated me—i deserved no less. but it isn't better. that night... i remember your touch as if it were yesterday. i should have asked for your forgiveness long ago. i hope you can forgive me now." and when you do, you do forgive him, he looks you square in the eyes and says, "nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you."

—and because he can't even bear the thought of it, he follows you right to the end, championing a cause he does not even believe in, for you; all of it is for you; because you have freed him, healed him, held him as he picked up the shattered pieces of himself. for you, he goes anywhere. for you, he declares, "nothing is going to keep me from you." and he means it. not mages, not meredith, not even certain death can part you now. after all, home is where the heart is, and you are nothing if not... his home.

(like i said... pathetic. and absolutely incredible.)

[rook-laidir]

I got really high and couldn’t stop thinking about this so enjoy some Neve/Rook/Rana smut under the cut

Rook’s soft whine was cut off by softer lips pressing insistently against their own. They could barely register the taste of elfroot as smoke was blown into their lungs again. They let out a weak cough as they leaned back against Rana’s chest. Neve pulled back with a smirk.

“You two are so cute together,” Rana murmured, a hand trailing up and down Rook’s naked body as the other hand pulled them flush against her clothed form.

“Aren’t we?” Neve joked in agreement with a soft laugh, passing Rana her pipe.

Rana took a hit, sighing softly as the herbs relaxed her. She held the pipe out to Rook, who could do little more than nod and lean in for another hit. Rook’s limbs were already practically useless, to say nothing of their brain. If Rana wasn’t holding them down, they were sure they’d float away.

“I might have to steal you for myself one of these days,” Rana husked in Rook’s ear, making the elf whine softly as blunt fingernails trailed up the inside of their thigh once more.

“Not a chance,” Neve shot back with a smirk. “This one’s mine.”

“Fine,” the Templar relented, fingers trailing through the sticky mess between Rook’s thighs before circling the rogue’s clit again, making them gasp and whine. “But you should share them more often.”

Rook let out a whimper in protest as they felt themselves being moved again. The hand between their legs was replaced with Rana’s mouth as Neve held them against her chest, ice cold fingers lightly toying with their nipples. “You can give us one more, can’t you Trouble?”

[auphaniim]

Drabble by @winebearcat & art by me!

“You’re injured, my Lord,” Hawke grunts. His brow is knitted, furrowed over a set of dark, impenetrable eyes.

“I’m fine,” Anders lies. He clasps a hand over his shoulder, radiating with pain where the shield split open from impact. It had been a thorough embarrassment, the way it shattered at the end of a jousting pole, but at least he stayed on his horse.

Worse than his defeat, Anders flushed to the ears when his knight helped him down, wrapped a steady arm around his waist, and slowly escorted him to his bedchamber. The given accommodations are threadbare – a draughty room set in a boisterous tavern – but it’s what they could secure at short notice for Lady Surana’s wedding.

“Let me see,” Hawke insists, placing his palm over Anders’ chest. Their eyes connect and he sucks in a sharp breath, acutely aware of how little separates them. It’s not the first time his charge has fussed over him, or been this close, so why does it suddenly feel so hard to breathe?

This is what Hawke of Lothering pledged to do. Pledged to be.

“You’re filthy. When’s the last time you washed?” Anders sniffs, stirring from his paralysis. His tone is more teasing than sharp as Hawke drags his hand higher. When he carefully tugs the tunic aside, Anders’ heart rises to his throat.

“So are you,” Hawke retorts, inspecting the bruise. Despite the concern in his eyes, his lips dance with a smile. He’s grown accustomed to his Lord’s quips. It once made him uncomfortable to parry, but he does so with such fluency now that Anders can’t help but feel proud.

As his knight devotes all his attention to him, Anders mind flits to the ongoing festivities. He’s mildly miffed to miss out on the sun and revelry, but being handled by Hawke like this, under the heat of his gaze, fills him with a warmth that neither could supply.

“Then bathe,” Anders orders, his head thick with drink. With want.

“I’ll do it once I’m done with this,” Hawke huffs, brushing calloused fingertips over Anders’ skin. It's tender, pulsing sharply with pain. He shivers and curls nimble fingers around the back of Hawke’s neck. His skin is warm; from sun and wine and perhaps something else. Could it be what's reflected back in Anders’ heated gaze?

“You'll do it right now,” Anders presses, acutely aware of the worn tub in the corner of the room. Hawke’s eyes snap to meet his, blown wide and swimming with confusion.

“My Lord?” he murmurs, ghosting warm breath over his lips. Anders' gaze flicks to Hawke’s supple mouth, parted around the question.

“I ordered you to bathe, Ser Hawke,” Anders’ voice drops to a hoarse croak. Hawke blinks, those perplexed, honey-brown eyes trained on him. Steady. Measured.

“So you did,” Hawke murmurs and Anders feels something shift between them. Their mouths are nearly touching and Anders feels his heart pound in his throat.

“Would you like to be present, my Lord?” he adds, barely above a whisper.

Anders bites his bottom lip, feeling his cheeks warm. It’s not the first time they’ve bathed in front of each other. Usually, as a point of necessity, washing up on the edge of a lake after a hard-fought battle. But there’s something different about today. Something charged in the way Hawke peers at him, like he’s the only thing that’s ever mattered.

“Yes. I require a wash myself,” Anders finds himself saying. He’s immediately mortified and his face flushes red-hot. He really has had too much to drink. Hawke’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falling open. It snaps shut, as a flush spreads over his cheeks, and Anders aches to kiss the warmth from his skin.

“May I undress you, my Lord?” Hawke murmurs. He lightly curls fingers around Anders’ neck, gently thumbing his pulse. Anders’ breath catches in his throat, skin aflame as his blood begins to race. Hawke peers at him openly, seeking permission.

“You may,” Anders whispers.

[drabblesandsnippets]

Imagine... (‘the first day of snow’)

Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female reader

December Daze Challenge - Day 2 - @the-slumberparty

Warnings: (220w) Breeding kink. Established relationship - marriage. Bucky actually trying to knock you up?

Imagine Bucky having a breeding kink. How hard he’d come at the thought of leaving his mark on you in such an indelible way. How he’d get so turned on after filling you up that he’d push your legs back and fuck his cum back into you, picturing how radiant you’d look all swollen and pregnant with his child.  Once you marry him, he'd be insatiable, insisting on christening every part of the house as newlyweds, as if he was on a mission to see if his super soldier seed could get past your birth control. You wouldn’t exactly do anything to discourage him, more than willing to take advantage of how feral Bucky gets for you, even letting him convince you to break in the new patio loveseat in the backyard. He’d settle his warm body between your thick thighs and drape a blanket over both of you so he could take his time, making you come first with his fingers, then with his cock.  He’d be buried deep inside of you when your first snow as a married couple arrives, the beautiful sight of your orgasm rocking your body while snowflakes dust your hair Bucky's undoing. And when he spills himself inside of you once more, he’s determined that a year from now, you’ll be experiencing the first snow as new parents.

Day 1 | Imagine... Masterlist | Day 3

Banners by @cafekitsune - Divider by @saradika-graphics

[ready2bl0w]

Aside from pizza and strawberry sundaes, what do you think Dante’s favorite foods items are? What about drinks, besides Jack Daniel’s?

Dante's Favorite Food Items 🍰

Well, let’s get one thing straight: he is an absolute sucker for most Italian food, and nothing out there will EVER beat his mother’s cooking. Eva cooked up the best Bolognese, her orzo was rich and creamy, and immaculately flavored. The homemade tiramisu she’d whip up after dinner was always devoured in MINUTES (you can blame little Dante for that; he eats like a beast). Dante’s been chasing that comfort ever since she was taken from him. A couple of eateries do come close, but of course, it’s more than just the simple taste of home he’s after. It's the soft humming of Eva’s voice as she cooked, reduced to a fuzzy buzz looping in his mind. The familiar scent of the Sparda Manor and Vergil’s presence at the dinner table, he misses it all.

I could also see Dante fucking up a plate of wings (paired off with pizza, obviously). He’s the type of guy who’d shove the whole wing in his mouth, suck the meat off like a vacuum, and pull the bone out clean, ligaments and fatty bits devoured. Cue Vergil and Nero, the three probably at a dingy dive after an exhausting hunt, staring at Dante in horror as he consumes his meal like a rabid dog. He pokes around at Vergil and Nero’s plates, looking for “scraps.” He doesn’t care if they’ve already bitten into their food. Shame? Doesn’t know her. (“Ya gonna eat that, kid?” “Ew.”)

Dante’s a total sucker for most strawberry desserts. Sundaes aside, he fancies a pillowy, tall slice of strawberry shortcake (well… more like a whole cake, let’s be real). Every bite is like heaven to him, the soft morsels melting on his tongue, airy whipped cream and tart strawberries melding together to make his soul sing with glee. He could never get sick of it.

As for drinks, I think he’d love to sip on a strawberry daiquiri or tequila. He wants his daiquiris to be stupidly sweet, enough to make his teeth ache. Dante digs the smoother selection of spirits, silky red wines, and buttery tequilas. He has his tequila on the rocks, downing glass after glass, the alcohol washing over his senses, the deeper he drowns himself in it. He’d be a fan of the Devil’s Margarita cocktail (fitting).

Thanks to bestie for proofreading (●´□`)♡!

[keirskeenknowledge]

Where's Rook? R!Lucanis

Fandom: dragon age Veilguard

Rating: general

Characters: Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte, Solas, Bellara lutare, Davrin, Taash, Emmerich, Neve Gallus, Harding

Relationships: Rook x Lucanis

Genre: Angst

WARNING! This Drabble has serious game spoilers mentioned in it.

Synopsis:

The reactions of romanced Lucanis and the companions to Rooks apparent death.

___

The Fade had become a tempest, its wild magic thrashing violently in a relentless gale. Lucanis felt Spite writhe within his mind, straining against the chaos. “Merida...” he hissed, throwing an arm up as a shield against the cutting wind. As Rook plodded toward the corpse of Ghilan’nain to retrieve the dagger, a chill seeped through Lucanis’s skin. Spite was uneasy; there was something sinister about the Fade’s current swirling frenzy.

A scent permeated the air—mossy earth mingled with the tang of ozone. It wasn’t Ghilan’nain nor their companions, but something else. Someone else. Lucanis started toward Rook, doubt twisting his gut, too tenuous to voice his fears. Battling the wind, his emotions churned, a storm of dread: he needed to warn them, to tell them something was wrong, that losing Rook was unthinkable. Just as his fingertips brushed Rook’s back, a brutal force flung him aside. He’d been through enough battles against mages to recognize a mind blast.

Lucanis rolled, scrambling to keep his footing, head darting as he sought potential threats. Ghilan’nain’s body lay still, the Fade felt has stopped tearing itself asunder, but Rook—Rook was gone.

“Rook?” Lucanis called. Frantic eyes scanned the shadows, desperation edging his tone, “Rook?!” No. No, please. Not Rook. Anyone but them. Panic unfurled cold and merciless from his gut, clawing up his spine, breath shallow and quick like a cornered animal. ‘Control yourself, you damn fool.’ He forced his legs to move, shaky steps around the crater that claimed Harding’s broken form. Maker... Harding... ‘Mourn later when you're safe. Find Rook first,’ he ordered himself.

“Professor! Professor, where did they go?” Bellara’s voice pierced through, frantic, yet it barely registered. Spite surged, scratching at his consciousness, but Lucanis was too shattered to restrain him. “Where are they?! WHERE ARE THEY?!” Spite roared, the creature's wings thrashing in agitated fury. Lucanis could feel the demon’s raw fear and bewilderment. Neither of them could stand the loss of Rook. Finally, with trembling resolve, he turned to his remaining companions.

“Emmerich, where did Rook go?” he demanded, his voice strained but steady. Emmerich, the Mortalitasi, a beacon of calm amid chaos, met his gaze with a gentleness that sparked a corrosive mix of anger, shame, and helplessness within Lucanis. It was the look Emmerich often gave those in distress to put them at ease. But Spite hissed, impatient and vexed. He didn't wish to be coddled.

"I don’t know, dear boy,” Emmerich replied, a furrow knitting his brow. “There was such a torrent of Fade and magic, and now it’s vanished. I can’t sense—ah!” The older mage abruptly fell silent, a smile creeping across his face, and Lucanis turned to follow his gaze. The blue blade of the Lyrium dagger shimmered, briefly unburdening Lucanis of his dread. There they were. They’d only been temporarily misplaced. Relief uncoiled in him, limbs heavy with anticipation as he took tentative steps toward the emerging rift, yearning to welcome Rook back.

But it wasn’t his beloved who emerged.

“Smells like moss and air before lightening. Old and dangerous,” Spite rumbled. It mirrored the strange scent they’d perceived earlier. The figure materializing before them was the one from the lighthouse memories: the Dread Wolf, Fen'harel. Lucanis’s instincts bristled, eyes narrowing as he regarded the new intruder with a cold fury. He had come alone, stepping from the rift like a challenge made flesh.

"Where’s Rook?” Lucanis demanded, his voice sharpened with menace. If this man had harmed Rook, Lucanis would escort him to the afterlife alongside Ghilan’nain. Solas considered the beleaguered adventurers, his gaze serene and distant.

“They are where they need to be,” Solas replied.

“What does that mean? Where are they?” Lucanis spat, a dagger sliding from his belt, intentions bare, in his grip. Solas cast him a look—a mingling of chiding and pity—that stoked Lucanis’s ire further.

“They have played their part here. Now they take my place in the prison so that I may complete what I began,” Solas said, calm and unyielding. “I’m sorry, but their sacrifice was necessary.”

Sacrifice. Prison. The words ricocheted in Lucanis’s mind, taunting him with visions of the Ossuary. Of the torment, pain and relentless fear. Was Rook trapped in such a hell? Suffering in isolation? Or, were they...? Spite, consumed by rage and confusion, surged forth. Lucanis’s body lunged forward, wings unfurled, dagger poised. Strong arms wrapped around him, yanking him back.

“Spite, no!” Davrin’s voice was urgent in his ear.

“Give. Them. Back!” Spite howled, thrashing against Davrin’s hold, desperation unrestrained. “Give. Them. Back. To us!” Lucanis felt his elbow connect with Davrin’s face, yet the warden held fast, tightening his grip.

“Spite, please!” Davrin implored, “you’re going to get Lucanis killed.” Another pair of arms encircled them both. Taash joined them, silent but Lucanis could feel the tremble in Taash's embrace.

“Taash...” he and Spite whispered in unison. Lucanis wasn’t alone in his grief; he wasn’t the only one who had lost someone they loved. And mere moments ago.

Solas watches the scene unfold, his expression a mask of enigmatic neutrality, yet there’s a flicker in his eyes—perhaps pity, or guilt, or a fusion of both. He raises the Lyrium blade, “I am sorry, though I know you won’t believe it. A victory like this, pitted against gods, demands its toll of suffering. Stay in the lighthouse, let yourself grieve, and ready yourself for the world that awaits. Your task is complete. Thank you for everything you’ve achieved.”

With a fluid motion, he slices the air, a shimmering rent into the fade, and slips away through it. Spite, seeing his quarry vanish, flares with renewed defiance, but Davrin and Taash’s grips are unyielding. Bellara races to them, her arms encircling Taash’s waist, her cheek pressed against the sturdy bulk of the Qunari. She doesn’t anchor Lucanis and Spite, but she steadies Taash, holding them together through sheer force of will. Neve, not given to embraces, steps to Lucanis’ side, her fingers curling around his forearm with a firm, chilling grip—a deliberate touch grounding him to reality tinged with ice magic. It gave Lucanis an anchor for his mind.

“Spite,” Emmerich murmurs softly, placing himself before Lucanis, “it will be OK, you need to let Lucanis out now.” Emmerich’s voice, the pressure from the arms around him, and Neve’s cold grip were a tether to the present. The storm within him subsides. The fierce battle for control ends, leaving behind a chasm of grief. His mind drifts to Lace Harding, her laughter a memory, and to Rook, whose absence leaves a gaping wound in his heart.

His shoulders sag, the weight of loss more crushing than any foe. “Rook,” he whispers, the name a prayer and a lament. Dellamorte’s do not kneel, but Lucanis would be lying if he said his knees didn't buckle dangerously. Bellara’s eyes meet his, understanding and sorrow mirrored in their depths. She releases Taash, stepping forward to clasp Lucanis’ hand, her warmth an offering.

“We’ll find a way,” she vows, voice steady despite the tremor of uncertainty beneath. She had tears in her eye and it was apparent she was barely holding on herself. “For Rook, for all of us.”

Davrin nods, a grim resolve settling in “We’ve faced darkness before,” he says, “and we’re still here.” Taash grunts in agreement, their presence a silent pillar of strength. Neve’s grip tightens momentarily, a silent promise of solidarity.

Emmerich nods, as calm as ever, though like everyone else there was a slight tremble in his fingertips. “We’ll mourn today. And tomorrow we will rise. For Harding, for Rook. And if Rook can be found. Then we will find them.”

[mosaickiwi]

14DWY As a Drama AU

Hey remember when I said I’d post this in February oopsies!! (don’t ask me about demon!ren i will cry)

Open at your own risk this thing is LONG. Tried to give everyone at least a little something! upon putting this in my drafts i realized olivia exists i'll add her at some point uhhh. Also you can tell how much I love Elanor... hehe

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

The cult classic romantic thriller, 14 Days With You, is now a drama! Coming to all your favorite streaming platforms this summer. A whirlwind romance gone right and wrong that you DON’T want to miss.

Cast List

[REDACTED]

🖤 Quiet kid that used the after school theater program to delay returning home. Never wanted to perform, but loved doing costumes, make up, and correcting others (in his mind) on how to portray their roles. 

🖤 Spent a little extra time perfecting the costumes of a certain someone who didn't even know they existed. He always traded house chores with his sister so she'd sit in the audience to solely film Tree #2's performance.

🖤 Was an apprentice special effects makeup artist after graduation at first, particularly for horror films, but it didn't exactly pay the bills when they left home.

🖤 Easily rose to the top in their acting career due to his dedication for crafting characters to perfection. 

🖤 Dolly Parton/Lady Gaga-esque in their separation of work and life—completely unrecognizable in their regular civilian attire. Paparazzi have never gotten a picture of them in all their years trying.

🖤 Has zero issues getting into character, but does "method acting" on occasion to make sure people leave them alone on set. And also to fuck with directors and producers they don't like. Notoriously difficult to work with because of it + their overall attitude towards others, still gets hired somehow.

🖤 Got offered the role as the main love interest in 14DWY without an audition, thanks to a previous manipulative pink haired character he played in a film that ended up never being released. (2017 Ren because it's funny)

 Angel (you!)

💜 Participated in the same after school theater program as [REDACTED] and Leon for a few semesters before you got bored of it. Curiosity for acting resurfaced later in life.

💜 Newbie actor at the recently formed talent agency of your friend. Only starred as non-speaking roles or background characters in small productions until the drama. You moved back to Corland Bay after uni for the better industry prospects.

💜 You initially auditioned for a very small role in the drama as an employee in a seaside shop at first, but somehow you wound up as the lead? (un)lucky you.

💜 Feel free to fill in the blank for any whys and hows you think of to fit your OC/self/sona as you so please <3

Elanor

💖 Normally an actress and casting director, first time as an executive producer for the drama. Dreams of bringing her own romantic screenplays to life. Hasn't quite proven herself the way she wants in the industry to feel confident enough in them. 

💖 Catalyst for the drama being made. A "friend" mistakenly recommended the 14DWY book to her. She absolutely loathes all the psychological horror of it but sees the potential it has.

💖 Also the reason [REDACTED] was immediately cast, and you as well once she saw your chemistry with him while reading for a minor role. He hadn't shown a fraction of as much interest when reading lines with other potential candidates, so she decided to take the risk of an untested talent as the headliner.

💖 Refuses to use her family's name to get her stuff made. She wants her works to speak for themselves. Very picky about who she works with due to her family having hands in most of Corland's entertainment industry so she hardly gets a genuine interaction beyond ass-kissing.

💖 Always partial to working with Conan's small studio since he was the only director to give her any sort of criticism in spite of her family, as gentle and polite as it was. She still cried a little in the dressing room though.

💖 Genuine confusion when Conan wants her to act as both a producer and assist with direction. She only intended to bring it to his interest. But how could she say no to someone whose judgment and opinion she respects so much?

Conan

💖 Runs and owns a small scale studio in the Bay that seems to pick and choose its productions at random. It is in fact Alice sneaking into her dad's home office and putting scented stickers on the ones she likes. (She only reads the titles)

💖 Extremely proud of Elanor for getting so far on her own, and would take on one of her dozens of scripts no questions asked if she'd only work up the courage to show him one. So imagine his surprise when she comes to him with a romantic horror instead of one of the fairy tale romances he sees her scribbling notes on during breaks.

💖 While he’s the one with the final say, he does try to let Elanor have as much free reign as possible on the project in the hopes to boost her confidence.

Kiara

💖 A super-star actress and model that got her start in Corland’s local industry, but quickly hit it big. 

💖 When she isn’t drowning in work, she’ll swing through town to check in on her sister.

💖 Desperately wants to star in one of Elanor’s productions, but respects her sister’s desire for independence. Though she does like to tease about certain casting decisions on the drama when made aware of them.

the rest of the cast are unfortunately very silly i couldn't resist

Moth

💖 Started a talent agency out of spite for the terrible castings in their favorite media. Got further invested upon realizing they could read the scripts before the movies or show adaptations were even announced.

💖 The one who pushed you to audition for a minor role in the production once the rumor about who was cast as the main love interest reaches them. They've heard all the horror stories about [REDACTED] so wanted the inside scoop. Horrified and fascinated to find out you get the lead role. It’s like watching a train wreck.

Leon

💖 Joined the theater program initially because of you, but got really into it. Moved away to attend a performing arts school until his mother got sick.

💖 Took every wacky infomercial or street performance gig he could find to pay the hospital bills until Teo found out and swooped in.

💖 Eternally grateful for the burden of financial ruin being relieved, so he always accepts the jobs Teo gets for him. He definitely won’t complain since he’s not dressed in an animal costume and shouting nonsensical slogans for cleaning products.

Teo

💖 Met Leon through a shared production and quickly bonded. Attended a different performing arts school and met Jae as a child.

💖 Almost the exact opposite of his game character purely for the funnies. Shy, introverted, can’t flirt to save his life. Still a nepo baby but he can hold his own in acting. Doesn’t like his character much, but is extremely jealous of the confidence he oozes.

💖 Leon and Jae are his only friends in the industry so he uses his sway to get them parts if they haven't already gotten a call back. Gets REALLY nervous on set for certain roles so he needs their support.

Jae

💖 Attended the same school as Teo when they were kids, and is constantly pitching intentionally bad ideas and joking on set to reassure his friend.

💖 A little bit of a thrill seeker, so does all his own small stunts if he thinks he’s capable. Stands there and gawks watching the more extreme stunts, loudest to clap when they go well.

💖 Kept bringing Maple to the shoots cause how could he even think about leaving her at home? She would occasionally break her leash and wander into a scene for head scratches and kisses. The film crew always booed when a PA came to take her off set.

Violet

💖 Completely terrible at caring for plants. Inspired by her role, she starts vlogging about her plant mom journey before shooting even begins. All her advice is completely wrong and terrible. Her personal assistant keeps her in the dark by tending to the plants themselves to fix her mistakes.

💖 Finds out she has a talent for flower arrangement, though. Does thank you vases for the cast and crew on all her future productions that last a lifetime because her PA made sure all the flowers were fake.

Exposition

(silly on set shenanigans)

🎬 Scenes get retaken quite a bit, since you’re still extremely new to it all. Most of the cast and crew expect anger out of [REDACTED] after the 4th call for a re-shoot on the first day’s library scene, but he’s surprisingly cracking jokes about his dye job and reassuring you that you’re doing great. The infamously ill-tempered actor is smiling somehow… even being patient? Not glaring down his co-star for minor slip ups? They cannot recognize this person.

🎬 Violet and [REDACTED] naturally butt heads on set. She respects their acting, not the actor. Zero hesitation to snap back if he’s getting snarky with a PA. You’re the one people have to beg to separate them, and you’re completely baffled that [REDACTED] doesn’t treat others as nicely as he treats you.

🎬 Even though Elanor is a nervous wreck about the first real thing to ultimately make or break her career, she’s scarily efficient on set—as long as no one distracts her. She does get sidetracked once in a while, only because she loves chatting and answering any questions the cast or crew might have. She even brings one of her own cats to set during a slower day to see if they can get along with Maple. Leaves Conan in charge when the horror scenes are being shot. They’re both put off by how vivid they feel, but Conan at least can grin and bear it. 

🎬 You and Leon manage to catch up on set while [REDACTED] is otherwise occupied shooting said horror scenes. You tease him about a few infomercials you saw when looking up his actor reel, and Leon teases you back about your unlucky streak of being a tree or a rock in every play the theater program put on when y’all were younger. Laughs even harder once he finds out your most prominent roles until then were “unnamed zombie #5 at the bottom of the pile” and “sleeping train passenger.”

🎬 Try as he might, [REDACTED] doesn’t convince Elanor to change up a few crucial parts of the script for his benefit. His offhand threats of leaving the production fall on deaf ears, as she is all too happy to do re-shoots to make Teo the lead. His innocent hints to you about the shoddy script fly over your head for some reason! You love how it's turning out, what does he mean?

🎬 Super shy Teo prefaces and warns his co-stars before acting in every scene of his character being excessively flirty. Most of the actors have worked with him at some point or another beforehand, so they let him go through his routine without issue. Some crew members love the whiplash of him switching between overly courteous and smarmy, others vastly prefer the flirty character and mourn the loss as production comes to a close.

The Build Up

📺 The higher ups pressure Violet to start a short-lived streaming career to boost interest, since she’s hopeless with plants. She amasses a cult following for her MMO reviews, blind raids on new patches, and her wild ride of a Minecraft playthrough. In the end she winds up preferring to play games off stream, but once in a blue moon she’ll do a first time raid stream so her more dedicated fans can join and watch her alliance get wiped. Creative trolling is highly encouraged.

📺 Teo, Jae, and Leon appear on a late night TV show for promotion. It was meant to be for Teo and [REDACTED] at first. (Where’s the leading lover? [REDACTED] refused all promo appearances or sit downs without you being involved in them.) The host plays a clip that Teo’s particularly embarrassed about, and he hides his face in shame when the crowd hoots and hollers praise about his portrayal.

📺 [REDACTED] comes across as doting and overprotective of you once you’re pushed into the spotlight of celebrity, and shows increasingly concerning behaviors as the premiere looms closer. Depending on your response, they’ll back off to a point or dial it up. Interviewers and consumers mistake it as the eccentric actor’s “method acting” so the red flags just slide right past.

📺 Elanor and Conan guest star in a podcast for off-the-cuff romance enthusiasts. Their strangely cagey and joking comments like “there were so many retakes we couldn’t keep track of what was meant to be the actors messing around or part of the final cuts,” and “we’ve actually sent all the reviewers 1 of 14 versions with completely different endings,” leave listeners all the more curious to see the film.

The Climax

🎉 Reception is huge, in good ways for most. The majority of the cast see a surge in popularity if they didn’t already from the hype. 

🎉 Teo bemoans his endless offerings for sarcastic pretty boy jobs, Leon makes enough to get picky about his roles (and pay Teo back), Jae somehow cons a studio into an action film starring Maple—and subsequently adopts every single one of her stunt doubles. 

🎉 Moth throws the agency away to start adapting anime and manga themselves. Elanor finally feels validated enough to bring one of her romantic screenplays to the big screen, starring her sister Kiara and a very enthusiastic Violet as the leading couple. 

🎉 Conan’s studio is overloaded with scripts, and Alice runs out of scented stickers that much quicker. They are severely backlogged send help.

🎉 One determined conspiracy theorist sets out to prove those missing 13 versions of the ending are real, based on minor cuts and inconsistencies purposefully left in the public release.

The End, Roll Credits

choose your own ending

Bad End 💔 - A Falling Star

💔 If you respond negatively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor during shoots and promo: he plays the waiting game, uses his connections and blackmail to make sure all your roles without his name attached don’t garner nearly as much attention as the ones where you’re co-stars.

💔 Your negotiating power quickly plummets as you fall out of demand and end up begging just for the non-speaking roles you once loathed.

💔 The careers of anyone you got close to on set fall apart much faster than yours, before they’re outright blacklisted in the industry.

💔 You begrudgingly call up your last option. He can’t do much for your friends, but their offer to help you make a comeback is always open.

Neutral End 💌 - Just One More Try

💌 If you respond indifferently to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: the drama leads to you getting more offers, though a handful are for playing opposite of [REDACTED], as the on-screen chemistry was too much for studios to ignore for cash grabs.

💌 Elanor has rid herself of the drama’s subsequent rights, despite positive reception, so a sequel sprouts up in the works at a different studio. One that doesn’t mind catering to the whims of their actors when it comes to script integrity.

💌 You arrive on the set to find that not just one, but all of your cast mates except for them were written to have much smaller parts in the sequel. In fact, you rarely find a scene in the revised script where [REDACTED] isn’t alongside you.

💌 Sadly the contract is air tight, just put up with it until it’s over… What’s this clause about further sequels?

Good End 💍 - Off Into the Sunset

💍 If you respond positively to [REDACTED]’s demeanor: you’ll sadly announce at the post premiere press conference that acting was a one-and-done adventure for you. Retired effective immediately, no farewell interviews.

💍 You’re spotted around town for a few weeks in a mask with a tall, darkly dressed companion at your side before you disappear from the public eye and Corland Bay all together.

💍 A few of your friends at least have an idea of where you are, and they meet up with you whenever you're in a nearby city. None of them can recognize the man glued to your side, though. Not that he'd say anything to clue them in.

💍 After months of near inactivity, [REDACTED] mysteriously deletes their socials without a word, sparking confusion and outrage among hardcore fans still desperately hoping for a sequel.