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keferon · 4 months ago

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Two Peas in a Pod: part 6/?

Thank you for the cake and the art and your crazy tags♡♡ you feed me so well so here's some more words!!

Lets see how many of you guest right, lol, they're both stupid, I love them.

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A group walking down the corridor on the other side of the glass before six a.m was unusual. And given the volume and rapid chatter, something had either excited them or had them nervous. But when one stopped to peer through the window, looking for Prowl – they would not see him, he refused to be gawked at – there was a possibly it had something to do with him.

Prowl suspected that if that was the case, his mobility played a key part. The humans had been more skittish since he had first left the hammock yesterday. Their fear was not misplaced, with the returned ease of swimming, his threat value had more than doubled.

While he would not act unless pressed – as it would be wasted effort with the current situation – Prowl was not completely against whatever illusion that the humans had of him. Let them fear him. It would keep most away and leaving fewer for him to deal with; those brave or stupid enough to still come near him.

The elated shout of Jazz that came from beyond the wall drew in his attention. Prowl sighed softly, recalling the current state of the language barrier. What he wouldn't give for a stylus and a data-pad. Even a simple drawing one would suffice.

He didn't get to linger in dismay as he heard Jazz swim by, but not stay. The view port on the gate was still shut from yesterday so maybe Jazz had just come to check if they would open it? But then he came by again a few seconds later, and then again.

Swimming laps. But was it excitement or anxiety?

Prowl silently approached the gate and rested his forehead against it, listening. The body of water on the other side was much bigger, that much he already knew, but most of the walls and floors of this place were like stone, leaving empty spaces all over his vision. Places sound bounced off of, but didn't pass through.

Metal wasn't necessarily any better, but it tended to reverberate; depending on its composition, and if one was skilled enough, you could see what was beyond or within the metal.

But the gate was metal, and Prowl was that skilled. Tuning his sonar with careful precision, he eventually found the frequency that gave him the best image.

Inside, it was primarily hollow, with large connecting rods and cylinders leading to alien machinery that was too complex to make out with outside noise causing glitch-like distortions across what he could see. But the guts of the wall weren't his goal currently.

Outside was where he drew in his focus. Towards the centre he could very faintly see Jazz as he circled. His sonar images may be in terrible quality, but Prowl had become quite familiar with the other orca's particular blob. It was like watching something move from darkness to light or adjusting the contrast of an image. Jazz was bright and his silhouette shape clearly a mer when he was close, while dim and barely a lopsided oval when he was far.

He was tempted to calculate the distance and overall, the space Jazz was swimming, but – to the right he had picked up on a platform. One that more and more humans seemed to be gathering on. At first, Prowl was worried that the other mer might be in danger, but after a few more laps Jazz approached and waited at the edge.

For a few minutes, nothing changed. Until Jazz moved to somewhere in the middle, almost straight out from the gate, and the humans began to spread out. Something was up and Prowl kept searching and listening for anything that might give him insight.

Till the screeching hiss of the machine attached to the gate suddenly came to life, causing Prowl to recoil. Losing his sonar temporarily as he worked through the noise. It was like a camera flash that blinded you for a second, only this one was a flash against your mind and a bang in your ears at the same time. But Prowl was used to ambushes and this certainly wasn't the worst sonar attack he's experienced, so this wouldn't hinder him, it was just annoying.

Pressing himself against the floor and the wall out of view of the door, he waited. After the passageway had slid completely open, Prowl remained only for an extra moment, just long enough to tell that nothing was coming. Then he cautiously moved to investigate.

With the recovery of his sonar and the obstacle removed, Prowl sent a few quick clicks to pinpoint all the humans. There were seven he could find, though there could be more outside his currently limited range. A poorly laid out ambush regardless, if that was the plan, and chances were very low – seeing as the humans were providing him with medical treatment, they clearly wanted him alive – but it wasn't zero. Prowl really didn't want to fight at this stage of his imprisonment, firstly; his wounds still posed a risk to his overall survival, secondly; he needed to gather more information before he could put together a plan of escape.

When Jazz waved at him, Prowl resigned to the fact that he – or perhaps they – were being closely monitored and there was nothing that could be done about it. So, for now, he would resume gaining an ally, or at the very least a cooperative collaborator. The other captive orca remained at the top of his priority list for making any future plans have greater odds of success. Working out the communication issue aside, he needs this 'first meeting' to go properly and smoothly before anything else could proceed.

And it looked as though the audience had Jazz tense and on the defensive. Nothing a little show of reassurance of Prowl as an ally couldn't remedy surely.

So, Prowl approached with an appropriate speed for closing the distance between an acquaintance, with his arms set at a relaxed, yet polite place along his sides. When he stood before Jazz, he made sure to keep a respectable space, posed with and holding a practised expression of polite professionalism. Choosing to have his most vulnerable side forward in a grand gesture of trust, further expressing that he had no intentions of bringing him harm.

He anticipated a moment of hesitance, allowing Jazz the time to observe him, to look for signs of deceit. But when his roaming eyes became fixed on his wounded flank, admiration showing in his expression, Prowl flicked his tail for Jazz's attention. Prowl wouldn't look too deep into it, but past experience made him keep note.

Jazz showed that he was at least slightly embarrassed – good – but when he did not make a move to greet Prowl with the same gesture of goodwill. Continuing to face him head on had Prowl now searching for signs of what his intention were. But while he did, Prowl began to express slight irritation, in hopes the other would cease and desist.

The other mer reacted by rising and Prowl tensed. Jazz must have had trust issues from past bad experiences if he was attempting to intimidate him with the present state of their body. Where he had been found gravely wounded, Jazz must had been found starving… Or there was the very slight chance that he had recently hit his last growth spurt and he was just a lanky cocksure young adult wanting to show-off.

Jazz quickly paused, pointing and waving for Prowl to follow. Obviously wanting to move to the surface to speak. Fine.

But then he smiled, and not in a friendly way, no, this one was clearly practised. Smooth, confident, and forward. Prowl had dealt with plenty of celebrities and politicians to know what a charming smile looks like, and very aware it was an illusion of friendliness to lure or entertain. Cocky youth had adjusted from 'very slight' to 'likely'. So, Prowl readied for a foolish game of posturing.

{Sorry, Prowler.} Was the first thing out of his mouth and his smile diminished to a more acceptable nature.

Good, Prowl thought at first, maybe Jazz had realized that he would not sway Prowl. However, Jazz still refused to back down, flaunting confidence with lax posture. Speaking in an almost gentle reassurance, {it's okay. Prowler, it's okay.}

Then everything started coming together – prolonged staring, hints of interest, slight embarrassment, insistent forward facing, too friendly of smiles aimed at a stranger – and the almost certain likelihood of Jazz's youth. Prowl was both irritated and bewildered at his own conclusion; Jazz was flirting with him.

Primus, he wanted to be wrong. But… nothing else made sense about Jazz's behaviour!

Not wanting this nonsense to continue, Prowl kept his formal disposition of his side facing Jazz and backed off just enough to show refusal, but not a sign of submission. Prowl firmly said, {no.}

{Wait! I —– } Jazz started to approach.

{Stop,} he said as his scowl had grown into a harsh glare and he quickly turned his body to face him fully, but didn't back away. {trying okay.}

Jazz did stop his advance. Though now apparently, they were locked in some sort of stare down. How else could he express his rejection without this braking out into a physical confrontation?

Again, Jazz moves, this time slowly opening his arms to boldly offer a hug and still keeping a steady friendly smile. Like he's asking for a chance. But was only baffling Prowl further. Why are you so instant?

" 'tzz." He said, the other mer's name was still difficult to pronounce, but he wanted to be clear. Speaking with a warning as he readied to strike. It wouldn't be the first time a pursuer needed a smack to take a hint. But Prowl really didn't want to fight. {Stop.}

Jazz was back to rambling in the human's language, his tone was wavering between calm and frustration. But when he pulled away; after his words had done nothing to change Prowl's stance, Jazz squared up.

Prowl did not hesitate and made a clean charge to Jazz's chest, forcing them both under.

While Jazz recoiled and darted away to collect himself. Prowl rolled his shoulder in discomfort. The impact had still jostled his injuries, but it had been the best option. Biting would have been taking it too far, using even his right arm would have been agonizing, and spinning around to use his tail would have allowed Jazz time to react. No, this was good enough.

Or so he thought when he returned to Jazz to see if he was willing to be respectful of the situation. While Prowl was willing to try and start anew with a mutual understanding, side-ways faced and still offering trust with showing his wounded side.

Jazz looked upset, understandably so as that harsh of a rejection was never pleasant. But this language barrier was really getting in the way. He was speaking human words again, irritation clear in his voice. But then he took a deep breath and started slinking towards him. Still openly refusing Prowl's offer of peaceful intentions.

And... now we've come down to a battle for dominance. Wonderful. Prowl had a slight bit of respect for the other's determination in not wanting to submit when clearly out matched, but this was hardly the time nor the place. Prowl fixed Jazz with a glare, promising punishment as he started to plan out his attacks that would not cause too much pain, but enough to humble the punk.

{Please, Prowler, stop.}

Gladly, but you first. {No, you stop, ['tzz.]}

He did, {what,} but not without pointing back and forth between them, {why?}

WHY!?

Despite his mounting frustration of being unable to explain or even have Jazz possibly clear things up on his end as well. Prowl did his best to make it as physically clear as he could by returning to the calm request and offer to have no ill intentions between them, that they can be on equal ground. He even went as far as to break eye contact and look away, just in case that was feeding into his miscommunication with Jazz.

{Prowler,} Jazz sighed, calling out to him softly, and daring to inch closer.

Prowl tensed; he had tolerated that nickname due to his own inability to say Jazz's properly. But him using it– using it like that was–

That was not– I'm not submitting to you, you punk!

Bristling, Prowl twisted and lunged for the other mer. Only clipping him this time, but was swift with a sharp turn to follow through with his earlier threat. And Jazz tried and failed to escape him. Charge after charge, Prowl battered him with carefully made strikes. Making it clear that when he stopped and let Jazz get away, that he had allowed it to happen.

When he met Jazz on the surface once more. Prowl remained facing him head on, silently asking if he wanted another round of showing just how out of his league he really was. Regardless if that kind of movement put strain on his healing body, that he could feel the sharp pull of new tissues fighting against the flex of muscle. He could probably get away with a few more attacks before something popped open.

{Please, Prowler. Please, stop.} Jazz begged.

But Prowl waited to see if Jazz was being honest about putting this to an end. After a minute of neither of them making a move. Prowl once again turned so his side face Jazz and this time Jazz mirrored him.

Prowl then gave a loud breath of relief and laid down to float on his back. Finally! No more idiotic posturing.

Jazz also followed him in releasing the tension and floating, though he looked humiliated.

Good, you should be embarrassed.

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I hope you found this as funny as I did. XD And now that the boys can be in the same pool, it's time for bonding and shenanigans!! >:3c

Prowl: doing everything by the book and reading into every micro expression to aim for the best results.

Jazz: trying to restrain his overflowing excitement and desire to make a friend. (but also has a budding crush) be cool, be cool OuO;;

Prowl: sees Jazz's not-so-hidden excitement and desire. what – here – right now – but also why? … sigh, you're just a shameless flirt aren't you? :/

IS IT really a jp fic if they aren't– Check List ✔ Arguing at least once ✔ Fighting at least once ✔ Jazz being an absolute flirt (unintentional currently, but still counts!) ✔ Prowl greatly misunderstanding a situation with Jazz at least once

Also, I've seen the pleas of the lovely readers!! I will post this fic on ao3 in the next day or so. But since this is my gift to my platonic love ♡♡♡Keferon♡♡♡ updates will be delivered here first.

Until you want me to stop dropping the fic in your inbox♡ -GLC

WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE oh my god they're fucking stupid ahahajjakfkfmgndb

I was wroNG ahaha I was completely wrong. Jazz wasn't saying "fuck you" in the last part it was "let's fuck" /j

To be fair. If I was held captive with the other random human and they greeted me by staring at my ass and then enthusiastically approaching despite me showing that I'm not okay with them flirting with me? Yeah no I completely understand Prowl haha.

Also. This isn't directly related to this part but. Sigh. I made some doodles of Blaster after reading the previous part and then.uh. completely forgot to show them. So I guess I'll throw them here now lol

#I thought they were fighting #I was wroNG this is worse/j #Prowl: being polite #Jazz: 👁👁#Prowl: hooookay you're creepy so imma show that I want to keep it nice and peaceful using body language beca-#-use it's the only language we both can speak right?#WRONG HAHAH #Prowl: turns his face to the side #Jazz: you're bratty #Jazz: keeps facing forward #Prowl: YOU'Re bratty!#Everyone else in this goddamn room: what is this are they flirting or are they fighting I don't have phd in whale romance #Josh you are a wet bread moron they're dolphins not whales #my apologies but I don't have phd in dolphin romance either #Fred from the other side of the room: Mermaid gay drama hurt/comfort slowburn no archive warnings 999k words (sorry I got hit by a bus)#Josh: the fuck you just said #Fred: *grips tranquilizer harder* nothing #maccadam #transformers #prowl #jazz #jazzprowl #apocalyptic ponyo #blaster #GLC #ponyo jp writing

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pausegame · 5 months ago

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Veilguard Companions + Rook, don't.

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livecrow · 4 months ago

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Gundog!Soap's errand gets derailed when he catches your scent.

A retriever "retrieves" a plump bird.

Shifter/Hybrid Dark!Soap x fat reader

(cw: kidnapping)

Soap’s popping down to the shops.

He just needs to pick up an ingredient for dinner last minute. Ghost isn’t home yet, so he’s off the lead. Unsupervised. Normally, they’d get the messages together, but he only needs one thing. He could manage it. It wouldn’t be more than a wink.

But as he mills about, he can’t help feeling off.

Like he really is a dumb dog wandering around without his owner, his lead might as well be dragging on the floor behind him, collecting lint and stray bread ties—

It’s turning into one of those days where he feels far more mutt than man.

Without Ghost’s firm hand grounding him, the place is a cacophony of input. Too many smells, too many sounds, too many colors, too much movement—all melding together into a murky emulsion of stimulus under the glaring LEDs.

He squints down the vast row of isles for longer than he’ll admit.

Eeigit.

He should have written a note.

Thought he could have remembered one bleedy thing. Ye dinnae need a list for one thing—

Feeling frustrated and dafty, he resigns himself to traipsing down each aisle and hoping something jogs his memory. Pride wouldn’t let him call up Lt. He’d never hear the end of it. He’s a birddog for chrissake, proper braw at findin’ things—when he knows what he’s fuckin’ looking for.

Least he can skip the sundries. He knows that much. Soap’s more than happy to avoid the detergent aisle. Stuff is bowfin. Stings his nose, makes his heid ache.

Lot of good his heid was anyway, feeling fuzzy, like it was packed with cotton. Might as well be. Nothin’ else between his ears. Certainly not the one fuckin' thing he pulled on his gutties and left the house for—

He let's loose an irritated huff and it's probably a bit too close to a growl than is wise.

Soap's trying to make good time, but he's a solid four isles in and hasn't had any luck. Eventually, he finds himself staring down a sea of tins. Fruit and veg, beans, and the sort. His eyes scanned the labels, but even readin' was a real Herculean task when he's feeling so out of sorts.

The canine part of him can't be convinced deciphering rows of little lines and squiggles is a proper use of his time. Especially when he could be usin' his nose instead.

Some wee bairn has starts greetin’ a few aise down.

—Green beans, peas, sliced carrots, corn, diced potatoes. Nae, that wasn't it—

....who in their right mind buys tinned tatties?

A passing trolley is making an awful racket. Discordant shrill squeaks and clunks of a stuck wheel scraped against his ear drums.

—It’s definitely not the asparagus—shites mingin’, and that’s fresh. Wouldnae faff about with a recipe that called for that. Cannae think how foul tinned would be…

Soap sighs in exasperation. As he goes to abandon this aisle, he steps back to turn and bumps into something.

Soft. Soft, soft, softness presses into his hip—

The kind of softness that cradles, that molds around him. Softer than any of his toys. Soft an’ cozy as his own bed, maybe—nae, softer. His bed didn't have the same give, the same wobble. It was a softness that sent a literal shiver up his spine, saliva pooling in his mouth. That smell—

Not something, someone then.

An incidental collision, a bird had been trying to slip by him just as he stepped backwards.

The touch was there and gone in a second but he was mournful for its absence. The scent lingered at least, soothed the whine that crawled into his throat. There was no artifice to it, no acrid chemical edges that came with any fragrance found in a bottle.

You had actually managed to catch him off guard. The shiver that rattled through him began with a slight jolt of surprise at the two of your union. He must have been more out of it than he thought, he hadn't even noticed anyone else in the aisle. He'll never get used to being startled, but he wouldn’t hold that against you.

“Oh, sorry,” you muttered apologetically as you stepped back, embarrassment coloring your face. The contact clearly ruffled your feathers a bit.

Soap’s mouth shuts with an audible click, he hadn’t realized his lips were parted. He hurriedly swallows a completely unadvisable pant in your direction.

“Nae bother, hen,” he blinks. Finally finding his human voice, responding like he's supposed to when he's out and about on two legs. It’s a little breathier, a beat later than he should have responded, lower too. There's a rasp there that chafes the very air.

...Maybe his head wasn't packed with cotton.

Maybe it was your soft, downy feathers that was muddling him up, making itself a sweet little nest in his cranium—

The bird sends him a polite, restrained smile as it scurries off.

His world narrowed, like he was watching through a spyglass. Or was it a scope? Regardless, everything else but you dissolved into blur, even his peripheral was swallowed up. Framed you in a vignette. Every tiny aspect of the minute interaction seared painlessly into his mind.

A pretty, fat partridge.

Wandering too close.

Game like that, ambling by all round and plump, right under his snout? Feathers close enough they almost tickle his nose—

It's instinct, ya ken?

Mind, for a dog that retrieves quarry, it’s in his nature. Cannae help it anymore than the shade of his coat. So, is it the dog's fault then, when he lunges? Snatches the bird up, into his warm mouth? Firm and soft all at once. The delicate control from a pup that can cradle a raw egg without fracturing the shell. When he brings it back to his master, tail waggin’ as he’s done a hundred other times?

Nae. Noone’d blame him.

He can already practically feel the pantomime thumping of your frantic heartbeat in his mouth—echoing his own excited pulse.

Soap’s keen eyes never left his prey, even as your back was foolishly to him. His hind paws were already ahead of his brain, he followed, trailing at a distance. Stalking.

Thing should know better, he might have been a wolf. You’d have waddled straight into it's gaping maw, mistake the canines for stalactites and his tongue for a cozy spot to lay your little head.

But no, he’s no wolf. He’s safe. Won't take a bite out of you. He's a good boy—

Good dog.

Bird dog. A Gordon Setter, Si says.

A jack of all trades, proficient at tracking, pointing, and retrieving. A soft-mouth breed. That’s very important. Most dogs cannae do what he can. Pick up a bird without pricking it. Ghost has been working with him, trainin’ him up. Helping him be more patient, learn new tricks.

Your scent—it was so hard to describe, but he luxuriated in it, nose twitching. It was warm, but not torrid. Sweet, but not cloying. Rich, but not heavy—

Familiar, somehow. Like a childhood lovey. Cheek-worn and supple as a lamb's ear.

He’s struck by a piercing déjà vu.

It should have confounded Soap—but it didn’t. It just was. The strange mix of familiarity and unfamiliarity that shouldn’t normally coexist. He didn’t know you, nae. But it felt like he should. Maybe he’d seen you in a dream? Some sticky remnant from a past life? Nothing else could explain the strength of the reaction that gripped him by the scruff. Commanded him to “fetch”.

...He’s doin’ so well. Being so, so careful—game’s normally still, after all. Not wriggling about anymore. Is much more effort to control his grip on a bird thas tryin' to fly away.

Thing squealing like a squeaky-toy doesn’t help, zaps somethin' in his brain, even though he’s hardly pressing. Ghost will look at you an’ see there’s no teeth marks on you. He’s being good. Knows better. Not even a tiny nibble.

Soap's so pleased.

Only wish he'd had his tail out, so he could articulate his excitement properly.

He’ll take you home and keep you. Rest a heavy paw on you when he wants you to stay put. Carry you round the house with him. Share his food with you. Show you his other toys. Only roughhouse gently, like he would a puppy. Bat you around a bit. Paw at you real gentle like. This soft, living squeaky-toy that he can nap with. Even let you nest in his own bed, tucked under his chin. He’d only ever mouth at you gently, you'd learn you wouldn’t have to fear his teeth. He’d rasp his tongue over you, help you preen yer pretty feathers.

He ached to sigh happily against you, rut his face against you. Wanted all the rest of his sighs to be against you, pressed into your skin. Nose at your crown, in your soft neck, on your squishy belly. He’s curious where on you that scent would be the strongest.

Ghost will be so proud when he sees, when he proudly lays you at his boots—

You'll like his owner. He'll pet you real nice. Ghost always knows the right spot, even before you do. Thoughtful.

So thoughtful that he won't even mind that he'll have to sort something else out for dinner.

#crow writes #cw: kidnapping #i don't really fully understand the difference between hybrids and shifters lol someone explain #puppy soap is the truest soap #Soap headcanon-ing you as a partridge wtf #took the longest time to decide which breed soap is lol #labs are a retriever but they're english #goldens are BOTH retrievers and a scottish breed but the color is wrong #setters are a scottish breed but they aren't technically retrievers they primarily locate game #HOWEVER they are a soft mouth breed that retrieve well so that's good enough #could have gone for a rabbit metaphor but the fact that in fics Soap commonly calls reader “hen” and Ghost “bird” made it funnier tbh #Soap being Not Normal #cod #ghoap #johnny soap mactavish #Soap x reader #Soap x you #fat reader #plus size reader #Soap calls you “hen” and “bird” and “pretty” but no other pronouns or gender signifiers are used #egregious use of italics and emm dashes

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canisalbus · 1 year ago

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I swapped them around in a silly doodle

#Vasco! what have they done to you?!#he finally caught the skrunklies #it's contagious #or maybe there's something horribly wrong with the ambient pressure and he's not agreeing with it at all #it's jarring that (at least to me) both Machetes read as Machete they're the opposite ends of the Machete spectrum #his form oscillates between an exposed nerve and a unicorn I get it #but swapped Vasco is #a whole new mystery critter #actually he's kind of cute #I would take him home #give him a bath in the sink and feed him some grilled chicken maybe that'll make him feel more like himself #real Vasco is toasted to perfection this one looks burnt at the edges and raw in the middle #I love his little off-model sheep ear #couldn't even keep his glorious floppers poor boy #gift art #foilthepiglin #own characters #Machete #Vasco

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autumn-may · 7 months ago

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terrisas really funny ithink

#kingdom hearts #kh #my art #image id in alt #kh fanart #Saix #saïx #isa #terra #kh terra #terrisa #Moonrocks #<-? I think people call them that sometimes. I think its cute #Kh saix #kh saïx #kh isa #Not tagging this xemsai because its only a little bit about it. I mean xemsais the joke but ykwim #Ok for real though ive been thinking about them these last few weeks and actually they're really cool 2me #Like theres whole “came back wrong” dynamic since isa remembers everything and terras basically a whole different person #And adding onto that saix and xemnas relationship wasnt exactly. Normal. So i could totally see something like isa-#-subconsciously reverting back to how he acted in kh2 while terras like ‘? You dont have to do that?” And like theyre both AFFECTED by-#-xemnas but in different ways and terra can see how xemnas was through isa and augh #Anyway. This is still an akusai house but i think isa can have an unhealthy one sided attachment to a person he barely knows out of their-#-resemblance to someone he ‘sacrificed himself to’ (kh character files words not mine).#It improves the biodiversity.#terraisa

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wolfsong-the-bloody-beast · 8 days ago

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Not to focus overly on my Rookanis feels, but I love the dialogue cutscene where Lucanis and Davrin are drinking together, sharing stories, and invite Rook to sit with them, for so many reasons.

I mean, I love the dialogue cutscene in general and both the guys in it. The mood is great. The dialogue is just so damn funny. It's a friendly dick measuring contest between our favourite boys. After the initial antagonism and tension, they've become friends. There are bizarre lore drops. The stories are entertaining and frankly wtf? A big writhing ball of angry nugs? Created through blood magic? The stuff of nightmares! I wish I could see Lucanis deal with that. I wish I could see Davrin figure out the big heap of tentacles. I love the way the guys are just a little tipsy in a cute way. Lucanis talks a little too loud in comparison with what we're used to. Davrin is starting to have trouble articulating. The "Of course we're getting along. We're PROFESSIONALS," as Lucanis raises his cup a little towards Davrin always cracks me up. Also, Lucanis, are you drinking wine from a coffee cup? The way they both invite Rook to stay and participate. The prospect of slightly drunk cooking and snacking and sharing stories. All in all, it's a beautiful scene that makes me smile every time.

But let me also yap about Lucanis for a moment. (Of course you will let me. It's not like you can stop me. No one can stop me. Not even me.) I want to focus on how Lucanis interacts with Rook in this scene.

It's obvious he's let himself relax a little. He's a bit intoxicated. Clearly he's having fun. He smiles easily and flutters his eyelashes at Rook. When you choose the dialogue option that mentions ruining Solas' ritual, Lucanis insists that Rook tells the story. "[Neve and Harding] don't tell it the way you would," he says, encouraging Rook to talk about something, from what he says, he seems to have already heard, because he wants to hear them tell it.

Then he decides he'll cook something while they chat, but he emphasizes that he will only do so "if Rook's staying," nudging them further. It couldn't be more clear that he wants them there and that he enjoys their company.

I feel like I don't see enough people feral about it, because come on, he's so sweet in this scene. He obviously wants Rook around and their presence makes him happy.

And, yeah, I know this scene also happens with "just" friendly Rook. The thing is, I don't give a fuck. I don't think it diminishes the interaction in any way. The context matters. It's sweet with friendly Rook and even sweeter when they're more. Also, I played Lucanis' romance first, and I did not know that. What I saw in this scene during that first playthrough was the man absolutely delighted by Rook's company, repeatedly and enthusiastically asking them to stay and spend time with him, and it made my day. Still does.

When I keep babbling about how much I love Lucanis' romance, it's not just about all the hearts I get to click to see where they lead or the beautiful post-Tearstone love scene, it's also interactions like this where you see how much he wants Rook to be there, all the more or less subtle signs of affection (and yes, also friendship, because that goes hand in hand) that happen throughout the whole game.

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age: The Veilguard #DATV #Veilguard #Lucanis Dellamorte #Rookanis #sometimes I look at certain posts that say that Lucanis' romance made someone/their Rook feel ''unloved''#and I think that whatever feelings one might have about it are valid - I'm not here to tell anyone how they should or shouldn't feel #we all have our own tastes and ideas about what good romance consists of too #but oh boy I can't relate at all #as far as I'm concerned‚ and taking his personality into consideration‚ Lucanis couldn't be more clear he wants (to be around) Rook #and I find their bond to be so special and deep #but they both also approach and cultivate it so carefully and slowly because of all the circumstances and I think that's beautiful #though I admit I don't understand complaints from those who think he's supposedly somehow more interested in Neve than Rook #I mean don't get me wrong - they're a sweet couple when that happens #but on a Rookanis playthrough? seriously?#do they actually pay attention to the man or do they just look at him #is Lucanis a different man in their game than mine?#have they somehow missed all the interactions between him and Rook - romanced or not - throughout the whole game?#vs a few friendly lines he has with Neve?#idk man couldn't be me #I didn't even know they could get together under different circumstances during my 1st playthrough 😂#I learned that outside the game #I mean I suspected it might be the case because the devs talked about NPC romances but I also suspected Lucanis and Davrin 😆#I only got confirmation later online #but anyway LOOK AT HIS DELIGHTED LIL FACE here

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