swamp-jello

[swamp-jello]

Studies!

My wife and I moved abroad and getting settled has been something of an ordeal. We’re finally feeling a bit more stable now, however, and it’s given me time for art. Hoping to make some Dragon Age and D&D pieces in the coming weeks. Also, probably going to finish that Mass Effect comic from a million years ago.

[swamp-jello]

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: I’ll be changing my name to something along the lines of Mew in the coming days. I’ve used that online for a while now and want to adopt it here, as well.

I’ll also be starting commissions, so watch out for a post announcing my options and prices!

Lub you all!

[swamp-jello]

I’ve been screaming about this situation for years. I vote, I work to educate people and all I got in return was ‘you’re being dramatic.’ The same people who told me Tr*mp would never get elected in 2016 are the same people who told me he’d never get elected in 2024. They’re all fucking delusional and treated me like a conspiracy theorist.

I was born in the Deep South. I was in a boot camp that included conversion therapy when I was 14 years old. I’ve been through fucking hell and back as a NB lesbian. Despite that, I worked as hard as I could to educate people. I was one of the first people to call out the dangers of Project 2025.

Fuck anyone who says I’m responsible for what’s happening. A trans man was kidnapped and tortured to death near my house. I’m fucking terrified that I’m about to lose access to healthcare, get kidnapped or be rounded up. Meanwhile, people abroad are quick to tell me I’m to blame for the situation in America.

I didn’t blame the Scots who voted for independence when the vote failed. I didn’t blame the people who voted against Tories and Brexit for what happened.

Grow the fuck up, Anon, and realize that countries turn into dictatorships without the full consent of their population. Some of us are in grave danger and made every attempt to prevent it.

Go fuck yourself.

i would rather a thousand palestinian refugees come to the uk than a single american who wont stay to help unfuck the situation they put themselves in

These comparisons are pointless and annoying, and I don’t like how this ask frames accepting refugees.

Should we accept Palestinians fleeing ethnic cleansing? Yes.

Should we accept people fleeing denial of healthcare and racial persecution? Yes.

[swamp-jello]

I just want to thank everyone who read Green. I started writing this story because I couldn’t get Neve Gallus out of my brain, and I figured a fic would flush it from my system (spoiler alert: it didn’t). What started as an outline for a relatively short fic, however, quickly turned into 32 chapters and 155k words.

Anyways, I’m so grateful for every reader, commenter and kudos-gifter. Your encouragement helped me finish the fic despite my ADHD fighting me every step of the way.

For everyone who really enjoyed the story: this isn’t the last I’ll be writing about Erelis ‘Rook’ de Riva and Neve. There are a million ideas still bouncing around my brain. I’ll also be finishing a few AUs (Western AU and Modern Roommate AU), as well as introducing a human Rook.

Thank you all, again! Also, check below the cut for another doodle. ❤️✨

[swamp-jello]

Aaaaye! Thank you @lelianassong and @future-ghoost for the tag!

GENERAL:

- Name: Erelis de Riva - Alias: Rook - Gender: Non-Binary - Age: 30 - Spoken Language: Common, Elven, Antivan - Sexual Orientation: Lesbian - Occupation: Antivan Crow, Veilguard Leader

FAVORITE:

- Color: Black, green

- Entertainment: Reading, Wicked Grace, chess, climbing, exploring and traveling. Not to ruin a good joke, but I like to think she loves swimming (especially in Rivain).

- Food: They aren't picky, but prefer Antivan food. Post-game, they've learned to enjoy fried fish since their partner eats little else.

-Drink: Coffee, Antivan brandy, beer.

HAVE THEY...

- Passed University: Her clan was exterminated by slavers before her magic manifested, so she didn't learn from the Keeper. A Crow found her within a day of escaping the massacre, which is where she was trained as a mage/assassin. Successfully passed their trials and earned full membership.

- Had Sex: It's the Antivan national pastime, so yes. Nothing serious before Neve.

- Had Sex in Public: While other Crows aren't shy about it, Erelis prefers somewhere a bit more private (unless you count sex in an abandoned attic in Treviso as public).

- Gotten Tattoos: Never received their vallaslin as they were too young when their clan was murdered. Since then, they've collected several Crow-related tattoos on their arms, chest and legs.

- Gotten Piercings: They have two piercings on their left ear: one loop/dangly and one stud.

- Gotten Scarred: They have several small scars across their body. The most prominent is the scar across their left eye, courtesy of Elgy-boy.

- Had a Broken Heart: The death of their clan and the loss of Heir/Fletcher were both sources of deep heartbreak. Relationally, Neve broke their heart just before Tearstone Island. (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

ARE THEY:

- A Cuddler: The fledglings cuddled together for warmth in the shanties, but she never cuddled with a partner until Neve.

- Scared Easily: No. Between trauma and Crow training, she's somewhat desensitized.

- Jealous Easily: No. She feels very strongly about trusting her partner unless evidence suggests otherwise. Did get very protective, however, when a drunk touched Neve without consent (grabbed her shoulder).

- Trustworthy: Feels very strongly that loyalty cuts both ways and that it doesn't supersede doing the right thing. As long as you're a good person, she'll stick by you. FAFO if you decide to act immorally.

FAMILY:

-Siblings: One brother, Vuk. He was killed when their clan was murdered by slavers.

- Parents: Mother and father both died at the hands of slavers when they refused to surrender. While her father was a good man, she was closer to her mother.

- Children: None. Neve and Rook are both very fond of Mila, however.

- Pets: None. Davrin brings Assan whenever he visits Dock Town, however, and the lad takes up increasingly more space.

I tag: @rose-s-587, @bloodydifficult, @timeandmusic-x3, @rook-laidir, @shadowcrow

No pressure (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

[swamp-jello]

Hope I'm not too late: 36 ...to give up control

My brain did a little oopsies and I ready 37 instead of 36. Anyways, I caught it after I wrote #37, so now you get two! #36 (to give up control) and #37 (without a motive) are beneath the cut. Enjoy!

#36: To give up control

If Neve has learned anything in her 35 years, it’s that poverty hinders self-determination.

Whereas Magisters have total control over their fates, as well as the fates of others, the people of Dock Town do not. Whether at the mercy of the nobility or struggling to make ends meet, the common man in Tevinter rarely had the opportunity to make their own fate.

Which was why they so often seized control where they could.

For Neve, that meant controlling the power dynamics of her interpersonal relationships. Between the endless tragedy that plagued her life and the realities of life in Dock Town, setting boundaries was a source of power for her. This was something she did not and would not compromise on.

Or so she thought.

From the moment she realized her feelings for Rook, her desire for control began to slip. The Crow’s desire to help, to be present no matter the risk, had unlocked a part of her she’d locked away. A section of her mind that acknowledged her bone-deep exhaustion and ached for hands that would hold her when the burden grew too heavy. It yearned for the safety of someone who allowed her to be vulnerable, to let go of her sharp exterior and melt.

It wasn’t that Neve was unaware of that desire, but rather she never expected to meet someone who fulfilled it. With much of their romance unfolding in the Fade, Neve regularly felt the urge to attribute Rook’s goodness to a trick of magic. But when those hands were there, holding her up as they fought for Dock Town, the excuse falls flat.

Rook is who she’s been looking for and despite the fear that prickles across her skin at the thought, she realizes she wants to surrender control. The one thing she’s clung to through hardship and tragedy is now her offering to the Crow.

She only hopes Rook finds it worthy.

As night falls, Neve decides she’s ready. Exiting her office, she crosses the courtyard and enters the library. She climbs the stairs and drifts down the foyer leading to Rook’s doors, feet carrying her forward before fear can stop her.

Neve knocks and the door creaks open a moment later, Rook’s expression soft and knowing. They drift hazily towards the bed, trading tender kisses before Neve’s back meets the mattress. As Rook leans forward, Neve stops her, a gentle hand on her chest. As the Crow blinks, Neve knows her partner is afraid she overstepped. It only confirms she made the right choice.

Taking Rook’s hands, she places them on the buttons of her blouse, silently giving the Crow permission to strip her bare.

There’s a pause where their eyes meet, and Neve hopes Rook understands; hopes she doesn’t have to say it aloud. Mercifully, Rook’s eyes narrow, comprehension clear in the way she stares at Neve with unbridled hunger.

Relaxing into the bed, arms stretched out above her head, Neve hums with delight as the Crow crashes their lips together.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

#37: Without a motive

Living with someone was new for Neve.

It was strange at first and, in all honesty, strange still. Waking up beside Rook here and there was one thing, but waking up beside her every day was foreign. Good, restful, but foreign. Sometimes, as her eyes flutter and sleep fades from her mind, she has center herself and process the warm body curled around hers. As much as she loves it, she knows it’s far from the life she envisioned for herself just a short time ago.

And then there’s the ease they find in the mundane. The way their lives weave together, allowing them to navigate their newfound space as though they’d done this in another lifetime.

Finally, there’s the physical touch.

The way Rook’s warmth finds her in quiet moments, fingers grazing her skin, unthinking movements heavy with affection. Neve is so unaccustomed to it, however, that the memories are formative. She thinks about the way Rook’s fingers danced along her shoulder as she set dinner in front of her. Or the way her hand found Neve’s lower back as she slipped past her in the kitchen. Even the collision of hands as they reach into the cupboard at the same time, soft smiles acknowledging their shared connection.

If it’s not her hands, however, it’s the soft, chaste kisses that leave Neve breathless. A kiss pressed to her temple as she wakes, stolen as Rook sprints out the door, or brushed against her wrist as she reaches for a book.

It leaves Neve unsteady in the best way.

And, if she’s being honest, a little guilty.

She’s guarded herself for so long that she’s unsure how to reciprocate. She wants to; the need is always simmering just below the surface, locked away after years of isolation. When she imagines herself doing the same, it feels awkward and clunky; almost as though it would be unnatural for her to do it.

She knows that’s not true; knows that she’s capable. She knows she wants to do it.

So, she makes a plan. Slowly but surely, she’ll incorporate small touches and fleeting kisses. She’ll express her own overflowing affection in the way she’s secretly always wanted to.

When Rook returns from a brief trip to Treviso, hair and clothes drenched by a storm, Neve moves quickly. She meets the Crow at the door, towels in hand. As she drapes one over Rook’s head, they smile, understanding passing silently between them. Then, smiling mischievously, Neve rubs furiously at the Crow’s hair, causing them both to giggle.

A moment later, Neve peeks inside the damp towel and instructs her to strip. As Rook begins shedding her wet clothes, Neve runs a warm bath. When her partner enters a moment later, she guides her into the water before sitting on a stool beside her.

They sit and talk, Rook sharing the details of her trip and Neve explaining her new case. Eventually, however, Rook’s eyes grow heavy and Neve knows it’s now or never.

Her fingers drift tenderly under Rook’s chin, turning her head. As casually as she can, Neve’s lips brush against Rook’s. Pulling back, she finds the Crow staring at her, a soft smile gracing her features. Neve knows she’s been had; knows Rook sees through her. Despite this, the elf doesn’t comment, content to enjoy the affection.

It’s then that Neve realizes what she’s found. For as long as they can stand each other, she has access to unlimited affection; unlimited tenderness. Passionate or mundane, intentional or casual.

She could wish she’d figured this out sooner, but instead, she basks in the realization, her thumb brushing lazily across Rook’s lower lip.

[swamp-jello]

14 for the kiss prompt

#14: Casually

Still in the Green universe, but an alternative timeline to how this conversation plays out in the fic. Check it out below the cut:

Neve was a private person.

While it wasn't realistic to expect no one would notice their relationship, she was adamant about dodging probing questions.

Although she'd made an exception for Bellara, Neve had no intention of sharing her newfound relationship with the entire team. Thus, when Harding, Davrin and Lucanis had each made varying attempts to pry the information from her, Neve had deflected their questions with practiced ease.

That only left Emmrich and Taash. Emmrich, mercifully, appeared too polite to press. Taash, however, was a wildcard.

It came in the early hours of the morning. While Rook was in the kitchen, assisting Lucanis with breakfast, Neve was in the library. Scanning the bookcase for a specific title, Neve's ears perk at the sound of a heavy door opening and closing upstairs. A few moments later, she turns her head in time to see Taash descending the stairs.

"Sup," Taash calls, rounding the base of the stairs.

"Good morning," Neve laughs. "Sleep well?"

"Meh," Taash shrugs. "You?"

"Well enough."

"I'm sure Rook can help with that," Taash smirks.

"I've got the feeling I've missed something," Neve replies, feigning ignorance.

"I'm Adaari," Taash pushes back. "I can smell it."

Neve's mind goes blank. It was one thing to dismiss questions, but another entirely to downplay pheromones. As her brain restarts, she feels a sense of dread; how much did Taash smell? Could they tell when Neve had taken care of herself?

Clearing her throat, Neve forces a smile. "That's...interesting."

Taash doesn't hesitate. "On both of you."

Oh.

Oh.

Mortification gives way to relief and, for the first time, Neve mentally acknowledges a fear she'd been avoiding. What if Rook doesn't feel the same way? What if she's just being nice?

But if Taash smelled it on both of them...

"Well," Neve begins again, her voice confident and bright. "That is interesting."

Taash chuckles, shaking their head as they walk away. As they disappear out the heavy double doors, Neve makes a bold decision. Her chest is warm, head buzzing and she cannot shake the delight that curls the corners of her mouth.

Neve turns and quickly follows, making her way through the doors and across the courtyard. She catches up with Taash just as they pull the door to the kitchen open, sparing them a grateful look as they cross the threshold.

There, on the far side of the room, is Rook. She's smiling, joking playfully with Lucanis as they stand over the stove. Neve presses forward, rounding the table. Rook turns around when she's only a few feet away, the smile on her face softening when she sees her.

"Good morning," she begins, holding up a spatula. "I hope you're hungr-"

Neve's hands cup her cheeks and pull her into a gentle kiss. It's chaste, short and casual. A celebration disguised as a simple salutation.

Pulling back, Neve smiles at the way Rook's eyelids flutter, her face blank with shock.

"I'm famished," Neve whispers before stepping back. Turning, she saunters over to the table. As she pulls a chair back and takes her seat, she hears Lucanis mutter three words:

"I knew it."

[swamp-jello]

You said i was allowed to ask up to 5 so I reached my limit 👀 (please feel free to not do as many as you want, though)

5, 15, 25, 35, 45 ❤️

OKAY, GO OFF. Shorter blurbs for these so I don’t break Tumblr. Again, these are all in the Green universe (Neve x Crow!Rook). All below the cut:

#5: Where it doesn’t hurt

Despite the healer instructing Rook to take it easy, the Crow is not eager to sit still. She wants to be out in the rubble, clearing blight and finding survivors. Neve wants this, too; wants to be busy, to wipe even the smallest amount of dust from her ruined city. But she knows, logically, that they’re useless. While Rook insists she’s fine, Neve sees the limp in her step, notices the slight wince when she bends over. It’s a wonder it’s not worse given she’s just felled a god.

As Rook makes a beeline for the door of the Divine’s manor, Neve intercepts. Hands cupping bruised cheeks, she finds words are unnecessary. It only takes a moment for Rook to deflate, surrendering herself to Neve’s care.

Taking her hand, Neve guides Rook back to the makeshift sleeping area in the library. There, Neve slowly removes Rook’s armor. It’s not lost on her that, only hours earlier, she was tightening the very straps she now loosens. It feels like a privilege to come full circle; to see the rise and fall of Rook’s chest in the aftermath of Elgar’nan’s defeat.

Once free, Rook lies down, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. As they close, her hand seeks Neve’s in a show of vulnerability so rare for the Crow. Neve is quick to take it; to assure her she will be at her side as she falls asleep and when she wakes. She will be at her side for as long as Rook wants her.

As Rook’s breathing evens out, Neve scans her body. She’s littered with cuts, bruises and burns. Even after the healer’s efforts, the cut over her eye appears red and angry.

Not wanting to hurt the sleeping elf, Neve presses a kiss to the only area left untouched. As her lips brush Rook’s, an endless refrain marches forward in her mind:

I’m so glad you’re alive.

#15: Passionately

The office is small.

While her share of the grey warden contractual fee was substantial, Neve is not one to live beyond her means. The space was adequate, and she could always adjust as necessary. As long as both her and Rana could fit their desks, she had no qualms.

That doesn’t do anything for her nerves, however, when she finally invites Rook to see it. It was Rook, after all, who had helped her defeat Aelia. Rook who had encouraged her to trust others.  In that way, she sees her small detective agency as an investment on the Crow’s part. Perhaps, in that way, she wants her to be proud.

When Rook enters the space, her eyes scan bookcases and desks. Her hands run along the surfaces, leafing through papers and brushing over knickknacks.

It makes Neve anxious.

“It’s small,” she explains. “But we don’t need much. Plus, we can always upgrade if absolutely necessary.”

Rook nods before turning on her heel and walking towards the door. Neve blinks in confusion.

With a quick flick of her wrist, Rook locks the door. Then, in two quick strides, she crosses the gap between them. Her hands grasp Neve’s hips, pulling them flush, before she brings them together in a searing kiss.

As Neve’s hands circle Rook’s shoulders, the Crow pulls back slightly.

“I’m so fucking proud of you,” she whispers, a smile etched into her features.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Neve surges forward, mouth opening to deepen the kiss as Rook presses her against the wall.

#25: As a “yes”

Neve paces nervously, her steps burning a path between their kitchenette and their bedroom door.

Logically, she has no reason to be nervous. Rook started searching over three years ago, something she’d confided in Neve on their first date. That being said, she’d never requested Neve’s help and Neve had never offered. Instead, she’d quietly met with Strife, offering her assistance in the search.

She’d always assumed Rook hadn’t asked because she didn’t want to burden Neve. But what if she’d done it for another reason? What if this was something private, something Rook wanted to handle alone?

Neve’s spiraling thoughts are cut short as the front door opens and the Crow steps through. Her cloak is wet from the customary Minrathous drizzle and a cloth bag hangs from her arm, undoubtedly full of groceries. As she makes her way inside, she pauses suddenly, her eyes falling on Neve.

“Hey,” she begins slowly. “Everything…okay?”

“Yes,” Neve replies quickly. “I, uh…would you mind sitting down?”

Rook stares at her a moment longer, eyes drifting between Neve’s tense expression and kitchen table.

“Alright,” Rook nods, crossing the room to sit. “Should I be worried?”

“No,” Neve shakes her head. “Well, I don’t think so?”

“Promising,” Rook laughs.

Moving quickly to the kitchen, Neve grabs a stack of papers before walking back to the table.

“I found something.”

“Oh?”

“Something related to your clan,” Neve continues.

Rook’s face becomes unreadable in an instant and Neve, already short on bravery, quickly places the stack of papers in front of her. There’s a pause as Rook considers her and then she shifts her gaze to the table, fingers brushing tentatively at the corners of the first page.

“I know you didn’t ask for my help,” Neve begins as she paces once more. “But I thought I could at least try. Strife had a good start, so I went from there. After we visited Moira and Josephine, they pitched in, too. We were able to track down the company responsible, which led us to various artifacts they’d stolen. I’ve already spoken to Mae, and she thinks we can-“

“Neve.”

Neve stops abruptly, her chest heaving as she turns to face her partner. Pushing back her chair, Rook stands and stares at her.

“You found my clan,” Rook begins slowly. “What’s left of them?”

“Yes,” Neve replies quickly.

Rook’s fingers tap at the stack of papers, expression inscrutable.

“I…” Neve swallows. “Is that okay?”

Rook’s head turns quickly, brow furrowing. Before Neve can register what’s happening, the Crow crosses the gap between them.

Strong arms circle Neve’s waist as she’s pulled into a kiss. Anxiety melting from her body, she brings her hands up to grasp at Rook’s shoulders.

The answer is silent yet it rings loud and clear in Neve’s head.

Yes.

#35 To gain something

She’s not expecting it.

One moment, Rook is holding Hal’s fish high above her head, taunting Neve. The next, her hands are empty, lips burning.

She’d hoped to coax the detective away from her desk; to convince her that a break was not only warranted but deserved. When Neve had drawn close, unwilling to yield, she’d held the fish high above her head, pulling backwards as Neve attempted to reach for it.

And then, just when she thought she had the upper hand, Neve had kissed her.

It was slow, tender and unexpected. It wasn’t that Neve never initiated anything; she’d grown bolder and more comfortable the longer they were together. It didn’t mean, however, that small gestures like this weren’t surprising.

As the kiss lingers, Rook’s body relaxes and then, before she can register her mistake, the fish is plucked from her hand.

She can’t find it within her to be angry.

As Neve pulls back, a sly smile on her face, Rook’s eyelids flutter. She wants a million more moments like this. She’s just not sure she can say that right now.

To her relief, Neve notices. Her smile softens, a hand coming up to caress the Crow’s cheek.

“I don’t tell you enough, do I?” Neve asks quietly.

“What?”

“How much I love you.”

#45: Out of anger

Neve trembles with unbridled rage.

She marches down the cobblestoned road towards their apartment, Rook trailing tentatively behind.

They’d been at the Lamplighter, attempting to enjoy dinner and a show, when a drunk approached them. Placing a hand on Neve’s shoulder, he gruffly whispered, “Wanna get outta here, sweetheart?”

It wasn’t the first time she’d been approached like this and it certainly would not be the last. Thankfully, years of practice had made it easy to deflect their requests without causing a scene.

Not that she didn’t want to. It was just easier if she didn’t.

Before she could respond, however, a hand curled around the man’s wrist. “I think you’ve had enough to drink,” Rook breathed, voice low. “Time to go home, don’t you think?”

“Wha’s this?” the man slurred, face turning a deeper shade of red. His eyes dart between Neve and Rook, his inebriated brain piecing together a puzzle that Assan could solve faster.

“You’re with her?” he asks suddenly, eyes bugging. “Tell me she’s your slave. Tell me you’re not fucking some knife-eared bit-“

There’s a flurry of movement and within seconds, the man is lying on the floor, crying in agony as he holds up a broken wrist.

“Let’s go,” Neve breathed to Rook. “Now.”

Since then, they’ve made their way home in silence, Rook refusing to keep pace. It’s likely for the best; Neve doesn’t like this feeling and isn’t keen on others seeing her in this state.

Once home, Neve unlocks the door and rushes through the threshold. Her skin is warm, teeth grinding against each other as she begins pacing.

Lingering near the doorway, Rook shifts uncomfortably.

“Look, Neve,” she begins slowly. “I’m sorry. I should’ve let you handle it. I just…he touched you and…”

Neve comes to a sudden stop, her eyes meeting Rook’s.

“What?”

“I should’ve let you deescalate,” Rook continues. “I made it worse. I’m sorry.”

Neve blinks rapidly, confusion giving way to comprehension.

Rook thought she was mad at her.

Crossing the space quickly, Neve pulls the nervous Crow into a kiss. She feels her jolt in place, nervousness shifting to surprise. And then, mercifully, Rook relaxes.

Pulling back, Neve stares at her with unwavering conviction.

“No one calls you a slave,” she breathes. “No one.”

[swamp-jello]

21 for neverook kith :)

"A kiss on a place of insecurity." Precious.

In my mind, Neve has pushed past insecurity about her leg, refusing to let it get to her. Unfortunately, her brain doesn't always play along. Rook is there to help.

This takes place in the Green universe after Chapter 18. Check it out below the cut.

Neve is exhausted.

A week ago, they'd set out to clear blight and champions from the Crossroads. While successful, the battles had been trying and Neve's body feels heavy with bone-deep aches and pains.

It's in these moments that she's thankful for Rook's bed. While the Caretaker had clearly gifted it to them for other reasons, having a comfortable mattress to collapse into after a long day in the field was certainly an added bonus.

She lays perpendicular in the bed, her legs hanging off the edge. She knows she should sit up and remove her prosthetic and boot, but her body fights all attempts to move.

As her eyes flutter closed, mind lulled by the swirling water of Rook's aquarium, her ears perk at the sound of heavy metal doors opening.

She listens as the metal padding of Rook's boots draws close, a smile blooming on her face as she hears an affectionate chuckle.

"Tired, are we?"

"You have no idea," Neve sighs.

"Don't I?" Rook quips. "I could've sworn I was in the Crossroads with you."

"We don't all have spirit energy to fall back on," Neve laughs.

"Touché."

The conversation lulls and Neve listens as Rook sheds her armor. Eventually, the bed dips as the Crow sits down to remove her boots. As they hit the ground, Neve feels a gentle hand on her thigh.

"Can I help?"

"Mmm," Neve hums. "You don't have to."

"And if I want to?"

Neve cracks an eye open, a fond smile on her face. "Very well."

Rook sets to work, first removing her left boot before moving on to the prosthetic. Since their time in the villa, Rook has helped her a handful of times. Her movements are practiced now, quickly releasing the straps and doffing the cuff.

There's a pause as Rook leans it against the bedframe.

"I can lend you a tunic," Rook murmurs, her fingers dancing along the buttons of Neve's harness.

"That would be wonderful," Neve replies, silent consent evident in her words.

Rook understands her, pushing the brass buttons through the eyelets and brushing the leather straps free. From there, she unhooks the buttons that line the sides of Neve's pants before sliding them down her legs.

"I can't really take your harness or shirt off with you lying down," Rook chuckles. "Why don't you take them off while I grab a tunic."

Neve nods, pushing herself onto her elbows as Rook stands and walks towards the armoire.

As Neve pulls her arms free of her blouse, her eyes catch sight of her right leg. Years separate her from the traumatic event that robbed her of her right foot, and since then, she's worked hard to push past it. She was not hindered by the loss and refused to be pitied.

That didn't mean she wasn't prone to sudden bursts of grief and insecurity. Despite all attempts to process the loss logically, her brain would occasionally turn traitor. Now was one such time.

It wasn't just the loss of her foot; scars line her inner leg, evidence of the cultists' attempt to take more. They're ragged and twisted, permanent reminders that she hides behind wit and sarcasm.

Stripped bare on Rook's bed and exhausted, she struggles to formulate a joke that will interrupt her spiraling thoughts.

"Hey."

Neve's head jerks up to find Rook standing by the bed, concern evident on her face.

"Hey," Neve musters, swallowing. "Maybe I should start keeping sleepwear in here. I can't keep stealing your shirts."

"You can," Rook shrugs, passing her the tunic. "I certainly don't hate it."

"Sweet talker," Neve laughs, slipping her head through the neck of the shirt. As she pulls her arms through, she notices that Rook hasn't moved.

"Rook?"

Biting her lip, Rook kneels on the bed, her hand hovering above Neve's right leg.

"May I?"

Neve exhales sharply, eyes wide as she processes the request. Unsure of her own voice, she nods.

Rook's hands are warm as they encircle her leg, fingers massaging the tired muscles beneath. Neve's elbows shake as the Crow pushes through a particularly tough knot, and she collapses back onto the bed.

Focusing on Rook's strong hands, Neve pushes all thoughts of her scars to the back of her mind. It was so much easier this way, going about her day while pretending the marks weren't there.

Her mind screeches to a halt and her body goes rigid, however, as Rook's nose bumps lightly against her inner thigh. Blinking, Neve looks down to find Rook has shifted, knees planted on the floor and her face flush with Neve's thigh.

"Rook," Neve whispers, chest heaving.

She doesn't respond with words. Instead, she presses a tender kiss to a particularly vicious scar.

Neve knows she's in love with Rook. The thought has haunted her every move since she first acknowledged it. Rook loving her, however, was something else entirely. She knows, logically, that Rook does. It's evident in her every word and deed. Even then, it still feels impossible.

As Rook continues to place gentle kisses to her inner thigh, their eyes meet and the message is clear.

I love every part of you.

It's too much. Throwing an arm over her eyes, Neve tries to reign in her breathing. The tenderness is simultaneously too much and not enough, leaving Neve at a loss. She's not sure she can handle much more but she also doesn't want Rook to ever stop.

She's given an out, however, as fingers slide mischievously up her legs and pull at the band of her underwear.

"Yes?" Rook asks.

"Yes," Neve smiles.

[swamp-jello]

# 4

Where it hurts

I love it. Takes place in Green during the week between their first and second kiss. Neve's injury is bothering her and Rook provides some relief.

Check it out below the cut. Enjoy!

Elbows planted flat on her desk, Neve massages her temples. The injuries from Solas' ritual had healed over a month ago, but she still struggled with random headaches, pain radiating from the scar on her forehead.

Her vision blurs as she attempts to read the same line in her journal for the fourth time. Eyes slipping closed, she gives up, resigned to waiting until the headache passes.

When she hears a knock at her door, she groans. She's not sure she can listen to Bellara talk excitedly about her serials, but she beckons them in nonetheless.

The door opens and she's pleasantly surprised to find Rook standing in the doorway instead.

"Hey," the Crow greets with a warm smile. "You got some mail. Want me to..."

She trails off, her head tilting to the side as she observes Neve.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," Neve nods quickly, dropping her hands. "Just a headache, nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Rook doesn't look convinced as she moves forward, gently laying the mail on the desk before rounding its corner to stand beside Neve's chair.

As she leans against the desk, Neve feels warmth bloom in her chest. It was only a few days ago that they'd shared their first kiss. Neve had been somewhat distant since then, owing to Morrigan's boon and its implications, but that hadn't stopped her from replaying the memory in graphic detail every time she got the chance. With Rook this close, she has to work to keep her eyes from drifting to her lips.

"I might be able to help," Rook murmurs, brows drawn in concern.

"Oh?" Neve smiles. "I didn't take Crows for healers."

"It's not in the curriculum, no," Rook shrugs with a chuckle. "Something I taught myself."

"Promising," Neve laughs. "Very well. But please don't electrocute me."

"No promises," Rook smiles, lifting her hands.

As warm fingers dance along her temples, Neve's eyes instinctually drift closed. The warmth only grows as Rook begins channeling healing energy. Eventually, her fingers press more firmly, massaging with practiced movement.

Neve bites her lip, fighting back the whimper lodged in her throat. They'd only just started; she refused to break so easily.

Eventually, the warmth recedes and the pressure shifts. Rook's fingers remain close, however, firm movements giving way to a gentle caress.

Suddenly, she feels a thumb brush tenderly across her scar and she shivers. Neve knows, without opening her eyes, that Rook feels guilt over the injury. She opens her mouth to assure her when she feels Rook's breath across her forehead.

Whatever she intended to say is scattered as warm lips press a tender kiss to the scar. It lingers and Neve basks in the feeling. It's wonderful and terrifying; something she could lose herself in despite the existential risks.

As Rook pulls back, Neve loses her internal battle, whimpering at the loss. Maybe, just maybe, she's already lost.

"Any better?" Rook asks, voice quiet as her thumbs draw soothing circles on Neve's temples.

"Yes."

[swamp-jello]

a kiss…out of spite. :)

Spite: deliberately hurt, annoy, or offend (someone).

Going to go with 'annoy' in this case. Rook annoys Neve. Rook steals a kiss.

It's over 700 words so I put it below the cut. Enjoy!

Protecting each other wasn’t new. Neve had lost count of the times she’d launched herself between Rook and a charging Antaam, throwing a shield up in time to catch their blade. Rook had often done the same, hands gently circling Neve’s waist before Fade-stepping to safety before a wave of blood magic could ensnare her.

Their battle rhythm was practiced and comfortable. Neve knew she could count on Rook to always come through.

Today, however, Neve found herself feeling less charitable. They were deep in the Hossberg Wetlands, clearing blight, when they were ambushed by darkspawn. It was nothing new, and nothing they couldn’t handle. That was, at least, until a ranged enemy zeroed in on Neve. She felt warm hands on her hips before she was pulled effortlessly through the fade, the blighted spear passing through the air where she once stood.

As usual, Rook’s save was graceful. Despite being pulled through reality, Neve barely felt a thing.

That was until they exited the Fade.

It wasn’t entirely Rook’s fault, of course. They were surrounded by swamps. But as Neve plunged into freezing water and muck, she felt her irritation flare.

Arms flailing, they crash into the swamp before dragging themselves to the shore. Coughing, Neve hears a hearty chuckle as Davrin approaches.

“Guess we should set up camp,” he laughs. “Can’t have the two of you wandering around like drowned rats.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They make camp in an abandoned cabin. Davrin finds a few blankets untouched by blight and hands them to Neve.

“You’ll want to get out of those clothes,” he explains. “You’ll catch hypothermia otherwise.”

Neve replies by way of a blank stare and Davrin laughs.

“I’ll go find some firewood that’s not completely soaked,” he continues. “That’ll give you two some privacy while you get warm.”

He leaves after that, and Neve begrudgingly strips down. Rook joins her, the pair hanging their clothes over chairs near the fire. As they drape themselves in the blankets and plop their tired bodies in front of the fire, Rook spares her a guilty smile.

“Sorry,” she says after a long moment.

“It’s fine,” Neve sighs. “I’m only soaking wet, freezing and covered in mud.”

“Got it,” Rook nods, trying to stifle a laugh. “You’re still mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Neve huffs. “Just annoyed.”

“And shaking,” Rook shrugs.

“I did mention I was freezing, yes?”

“I hear body heat is good for that.”

“Don’t push it,” Neve replies, rolling her eyes.

“Very well.”

A few minutes pass and Neve finds the fire is insufficient. She’s well and truly cold. It bites at her skin despite the roaring fire and thick blanket.

“I know stubbornness is your whole shtick, but Evka did say that body heat was best for these situations,” Rook says after a moment.

Neve sighs, eyes lidded with exhaustion and unadulterated annoyance. Turning, she watches as Rook holds her blanket open in invitation. Opening her mouth to decline the offer, she cuts short as a shiver runs down her spine. Rook bites her lip, making it clear she saw it happen.

“Fine,” Neve groans, shifting closer. She hands her blanket to Rook, who then wraps it around them.

As their skin presses together, Neve immediately realizes the wisdom of Rook’s – or, perhaps, Evka’s – words. Warmth envelopes them both, creating a cocoon for their body heat.

“Better?”

“Marginally,” Neve teases, unwilling to take the bait.

“We can’t have that.”

“It’s fine,” Neve laughs lightly, eyes fixed on the fire.

A moment passes before Rook speaks again.

“Hey,” she says quietly, eyes trained intensely on Neve’s face.

“Hey?”

“You have something on your eyelashes,” she begins. “Mud, I think. Can I…?”

Neve heaves a sigh before turning to face the Crow.

“Fine,” she mutters. “But be caref-“

Her words are cut off as Rook presses her lips firmly against Neve’s.

Shock and annoyance melt away instantly and Neve relaxes into the kiss. When she feels Rook’s tongue drag gently against her bottom lip, she opens her mouth, inviting her velvet tongue inside. They stay like that for a long moment, their tongues moving together in a slow, tender romp before Rook finally pulls away.

Neve’s face is warm, her body alight with need. Suddenly, the extra blanket feels excessive.

“Better?” Rook asks, a mischievous smile plastered on her face.

Narrowing her eyes playfully, Neve turns back to the fire. Her body, however, relaxes and melts into Rook’s.

“That’s none of your business.”

[swamp-jello]

Doing this for Neverook! Send me a prompt via the lil ask button:

Kiss time!! (っ˘³(•́ ᵕ •̀?)

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

…good morning.

…goodnight.

…goodbye.

…where it hurts.

…where it doesn’t hurt.

…on a falling tear.

…to shut them up.

…in secrecy.

…in public.

…desperately.

…in joy.

…in grief.

…discreetly.

…casually.

…passionately.

…lazily.

…to distract.

…as encouragement.

…for luck.

…on a scar.

…on a place of insecurity.

…in a rush of adrenaline.

…in relief.

…in danger.

…as a ‘yes’.

…as an apology.

…as a suggestion.

…as a lie.

…as a promise.

…as comfort.

…after a small rejection.

…to wake up.

…forcefully.

…to pretend.

…to gain something.

…to give up control.

…without a motive.

…because they’re running out of time.

…because time’s run out.

…because the world is ending.

…because the world is saved.

…out of pride.

…out of greed.

…out of lust.

…out of anger.

…out of envy or jealousy.

…out of spite.

…out of habit.

…out of necessity.

…out of love.

[swamp-jello]

I finally watched Arcane.

[swamp-jello]

Not me chanting ‘fight fight fight’ when Davrin and Lucanis start arguing.

It has nothing to do with Lucanis flirting with Neve. I’m not petty, I swear.

[swamp-jello]

weisshaupt be like

[swamp-jello]

Rook: *⁂ (✪⥎✪)⁂*

[swamp-jello]

Yis. It me.

Sometimes I hyperfocus so hard on something, I forget I’m a person until someone interacts with me. I feel like some wild animal seeing a human being for the first time. I’m like “oh yeah I’m supposed to speak and stuff”