uhbambii

[uhbambii]

Ticklish Temptations

The grand hall of the Dellamorte Villa in Treviso was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the flickering flames casting long, delicate shadows across the polished marble floor. The air was rich with the scent of old books and leather, a sense of history lingering in every corner of the room. The night outside was still, but inside the villa, the only sounds were the crackling fire and the soft shuffle of footsteps.

Rook, her dark hair falling in loose waves around her face, leaned casually against the pillar, her eyes studying Lucanis. There was a teasing glint in them, something that suggested she wasn’t simply admiring the ancient beauty of the villa. she was admiring something (or rather, someone) much more intriguing.

Lucanis stood a few steps away, his posture rigid and guarded, as it always was. But tonight… tonight something was different. The quiet of Treviso seemed to strip away some of his usual defenses, leaving him feeling more exposed than he cared to admit.

Rook pushed herself off the pillar, her boots making a soft sound as she moved toward him. “You know, Lucanis,” she said with a sly smile, her voice low and teasing, “I think the grand look of the villa suits you.”

Lucanis glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to keep his cool. “I’m sure you say that to every noble or rich man.”

Rook’s smile only deepened. “Oh, I don’t, but you… you’re different.” She closed the gap between them, her breath warm against his neck as she stood far too close. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

Lucanis was aware of the heat building between them, but he remained composed, not wanting to give Rook the satisfaction of seeing him lose control. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Before he could blink, Rook’s lips were against his ear, her voice a soft whisper. “It means… I’ve been thinking about what happens when I get you alone.”

Lucanis’ breath hitched at the sudden closeness, the way Rook’s presence seemed to envelop him. He fought the involuntary urge to step back, to put some distance between them, but her teasing grin held him in place. Her lips moved lower, grazing the edge of his jaw with a feather-light kiss.

“Rook—” Lucanis started, but the words caught in his throat as Rook’s lips brushed against the sensitive spot on his neck, the one he hated to admit made him feel… something. He tried to hold back the rush of heat, but it wasn’t long before a soft giggle slipped from him.

Rook pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes full of mischief. “Did I hear that right? Did you just giggle?”

Lucanis’ face flushed a deep shade of red, and he quickly turned his head away, cursing under his breath. “I—no. I didn’t.”

“Oh, you did,” Rook teased, leaning in closer, her lips dangerously close to Lucanis’ neck again. “And I think you’re ticklish.”

“I’m not!” Lucanis protested, but there was no hiding the uncertainty in his voice.

Rook’s smirk deepened. “You are. And it’s adorable.”

Before Lucanis could react, Rook’s lips trailed down his neck once more, this time with more intent, pressing soft kisses along the sensitive skin. Lucanis’ resolve crumbled, and another giggle escaped him, this one louder than the last.

“Rook!” Lucanis gasped, his body tensing as he instinctively tried to pull away. “Stop! I’m—I’m not ticklish!”

Rook’s laughter bubbled up as she pulled back, her dark eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re so ticklish. This is going to be fun.”

“Don’t you dare,” Lucanis muttered, his voice shaky as he fought the urge to laugh again. But before he could say anything else, Rook leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek, then traced a teasing line down to his jaw.

Lucanis bit his lip, doing his best to stay serious, but Rook was relentless. She kissed the side of his neck again, a delicate, lingering touch that sent a shiver down his spine. And once more, his lips betrayed him—another giggle slipped out, and he couldn’t stop it.

“Rook!” Lucanis breathed, mortified now. “I swear, I can’t—stop!”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” Rook purred, her voice low and warm, as she slid her fingers up to gently tip his chin so their eyes locked. “This is too much fun.”

Lucanis could feel the flush creeping down his neck, but something else was happening too—a warmth that had nothing to do with the teasing, with the playful laughter between them. It was the way Rook was looking at him now, eyes soft with something that wasn’t just mischief.

With a sudden change in the air, Rook leaned in once more, her lips pressing against Lucanis’ in a soft, lingering kiss. The laughter died away, and for a moment, there was nothing but the feeling of their hearts beating in time, the soft heat of Rook’s lips against his.

When Rook pulled back, her expression was less teasing, more affectionate. “You’re so much more fun than you let on,” she whispered, her thumb brushing lightly over Lucanis’ jaw.

Lucanis was still trying to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. “I don’t—I don’t like you messing with me like that,” he muttered, though the words were half-hearted.

Rook smiled, that same glint of mischief back in her eyes. “You do like it. Don’t lie.”

Lucanis let out a small, reluctant sigh, his cheeks still flushed. “You’re impossible.”

“Perhaps,” Rook replied with a wink, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, “but I think you like me just the way I am.”

Lucanis shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re mine,” Rook murmured softly in a purr.

Lucanis couldn’t find it in himself to argue. With Rook so close, so full of warmth and teasing affection, he knew, deep down, he was already lost to her.

———————————————————————————

Sorry guys, not my best work!

I know I’ve been MIA for a bit, but University has me in a death grip this semester :(

———————————————————————————

[uhbambii]

Hey, glad you are back! Hope you enjoyed your break☺️ I came across a prompt idea I think you’d write sweetly 😃 Rook and Lucanis are out in town, shopping, grabbing coffee, etc., when Lucanis bumps into an old friend (probably another crow?). She is super pretty and clearly into Lucanis, though he’s oblivious. But Rook notices and gets upset, feeling insecure about herself...then some reassuring. Totally okay if it’s not your vibe! 🫶

A Moment in the Sun

The afternoon sun bathed Treviso in golden light, the breeze carrying the scent of citrus and sea salt through the air. Rook adjusted the strap of her satchel, heavy with fresh produce and spices from the bustling market. Beside her, Lucanis Dellamorte strode with casual grace, carrying a basket full of their purchases. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he glanced down at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Still can’t believe you talked that spice merchant into giving us twice the saffron for half the price,” he said, his deep voice tinged with amusement. “Remind me never to gamble against you, Uccellina.”

Rook chuckled, nudging him lightly with her elbow. “I told you, I’m good at spotting weakness. Yours just happens to be overpaying for things when you flash that charming smile and they realize who you are.”

Lucanis leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Maybe I’ll save my smiles for you, then. They seem to work better on you anyway.”

Her cheeks warmed as she gave him a playful shove. “Keep dreaming, Bello.”

~~~~

As they approached a cozy café in the corner of a sunlit square, a melodic voice rang out. “Lucanis?”

Both of them turned, and Rook felt her heart drop slightly at the sight of the woman approaching them. She was breathtaking—tall and poised, an elven woman with cascading auburn hair and emerald eyes that seemed to sparkle as they fixed on Lucanis. Her elegant outfit clung to her figure with the kind of effortless grace Rook always found herself envying.

“By the Dread Wolf, it is you!” the woman exclaimed, her laughter light and musical. She stopped just short of throwing her arms around him. “Lucanis Dellamorte, of all people. Still alive and just as handsome.”

Lucanis blinked in surprise, a flicker of recognition crossing his face before he smiled politely. “Violetta. It’s been… years.”

“Too long,” she said with a grin, her gaze raking over him. “Still getting into trouble, I assume?”

“Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” he replied lightly, though his tone remained distant.

~~~~

As they exchanged pleasantries, Rook felt herself shrinking back, her grip tightening on the strap of her satchel. Violetta was radiant, clearly comfortable in her skin and more than a little interested in Lucanis. It didn’t help that she seemed to command attention effortlessly, drawing the eyes of passersby with her beauty and charm.

Rook’s stomach twisted as she caught the way Violetta leaned ever so slightly toward him, her laugh lingering in the air.

Lucanis, of course, was oblivious to it all. His tone was warm but polite, lacking the intimacy he reserved for Rook. Still, it didn’t stop the nagging insecurities clawing at her chest.

She glanced down at herself—scuffed boots, scarred arms from all her battles, hair turned frizzy from the humidity. Standing next to someone like Violetta, Rook felt dull and insignificant.

“Rook?” Lucanis’s voice cut through her thoughts. He had turned back to her, his dark eyes softening as they met hers. “This is Violetta, an old… associate from my Crow days.”

“Rook,” Violetta said with a charming smile, though there was a flicker of curiosity in her gaze. “A pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Rook replied, forcing a polite smile.

Lucanis’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked between them. “Violetta, we were just about to grab coffee. Care to—”

“I should be going,” Violetta interrupted smoothly, raising a hand. “Perhaps another time, Lucanis.” Her emerald eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned and walked away, her steps as graceful as a dancer’s.

~~~~

As she disappeared into the crowd, Rook turned sharply and busied herself with inspecting a nearby stall. She hated how obvious her discomfort felt, but the knot of insecurity in her chest was impossible to ignore.

“Rook.”

She didn’t turn around. “What?”

Lucanis stepped closer, his presence warm and steady. “Talk to me,” he said softly, his tone edged with concern.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, though her voice betrayed her.

“No, you’re not,” he said gently. He moved into her line of sight, his dark eyes searching hers. “I can see it, Rook. Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She hesitated, looking away. “It’s stupid.”

“Try me,” he said, his voice low but firm. He cupped her chin, coaxing her to meet his gaze.

Rook sighed, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “She’s beautiful, Lucanis. And confident, and perfect. And me? I’m just—”

“Stop.”

The sudden steel in his voice startled her, and she looked up to find him gazing at her with a seriousness that made her heart ache.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, his hand moving to cup her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin, his touch achingly tender. “Don’t you dare compare yourself to her. She’s… she’s a footnote in my past. You are everything to me.”

Rook blinked, stunned. “Lucanis—”

He didn’t let her finish. “I look at you, Rook, and I see strength. I see kindness. I see the only person who’s ever made me believe there’s more to life than shadows and death.” He stepped closer, his forehead resting gently against hers. “You’re not just my partner, Rook. Sei la luce della mia vita.”

Her throat tightened, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I just… she was so…”

“She’s nothing,” Lucanis murmured, his lips brushing her temple. “And you? You’re everything. Understand?”

She nodded, her breath hitching as a soft smile tugged at her lips. “You’re too good at this, Amore.”

“Only for you,” he said, his voice warm with affection. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before pulling back slightly. “Now, let’s get that coffee before you make me cry in the middle of this square.”

Rook laughed, the last of her insecurities melting away as she laced her fingers with his. “Deal.”

———————————————————————————

Hi! Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy!

Fun Fact: Violetta is the name of my Crow!Rook

———————————————————————————

Sei la luce della mia vita: You are the light of my life

Amore: Love

Bello: Handsome

Uccellina: Little Crow/Bird

———————————————————————————

[uhbambii]

A Sweet Brew

The sun hung low over Treviso, casting the cobblestone streets in hues of gold and amber. The town was alive with soft chatter and the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from nearby shops. Rook walked alongside Lucanis Dellamorte, their pace unhurried, their steps falling into an easy rhythm.

Lucanis, as always, carried himself with a quiet confidence. His dark hair fell just slightly over his forehead, and his deep-set eyes—dark as a starless night—glanced at her with an intensity that made her cheeks flush. The silver detailing of his dyed leather armor glinted in the fading sunlight, but tonight, he seemed like a man enjoying stolen time with someone who had slowly begun to mean everything to him.

“You keep looking at me like that, and people will start talking,” Rook teased, her lips curving into a smile.

Lucanis smirked, a faint tilt of his head betraying his amusement. “Let them talk. Non mi importa. Tonight, it’s just us.” His voice, low and velvety, sent a shiver down her spine.

They arrived at Cafe Pietra, a warm, rustic tavern nestled near the heart of the square. Lucanis opened the door, his hand brushing hers as he gestured for her to enter.

“After you, tesoro,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on her with a rare gentleness.

The tavern’s cozy interior was alive with the hum of conversation, and the rich aroma of roasted coffee. They chose a table tucked near the open railing, where the view of the twinkling lights of Treviso framed them in golden light.

As they settled in, the barmaid approached, pen poised to take their orders.

“I’ll have coffee,” Rook said with confidence, then added, “but sweet. Really sweet. Lots of milk. And whipped cream on top, please.”

The barmaid nodded and turned to Lucanis, who leaned back in his chair, one brow raised in amusement.

“Un caffè nero,” he said simply. His voice, smooth and measured, contrasted with the teasing look he shot Rook.

Once the barmaid left, Lucanis rested his chin on his hand and gave her a slow, almost predatory smile. “Milk, sugar, whipped cream. Cara mia, you might as well have ordered dessert.”

Rook leaned forward, undeterred. “And? What’s wrong with that? It’s good.”

“It’s childish,” Lucanis countered, though his voice was tinged with affection. “But fitting. You do have a way of bringing a certain… levity to things.”

She grinned, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You mean I make you laugh.”

“I mean you make my days lighter,” he said, his words quieter, almost as if he hadn’t meant to let them slip. His dark eyes softened, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no veil of sarcasm between them. Just honesty.

Rook felt her breath catch. She’d never tire of the moments when Lucanis let down his guard, when his words carried the weight of feelings he struggled to express.

Their drinks arrived soon after, the contrast between them as stark as their personalities. Rook’s cup was a decadent creation, whipped cream piled high with a drizzle of caramel. Lucanis’ was, unsurprisingly, dark and unadorned.

He raised his cup, taking a slow sip, then eyed hers with a raised brow. “Is that coffee, or did you order a dessert buffet in a cup?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Rook said, her tone daring. She scooped up a spoonful of whipped cream and held it out to him, leaning slightly forward.

He sighed theatrically but leaned closer, his lips brushing the spoon as he tasted the cream. When he sat back, he rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. “Sweet. Very sweet. Too sweet for me.” His smirk returned as he added, “But I can see why you like it.”

“Because I have excellent taste, Bello” Rook replied, taking a triumphant sip from her cup.

“No,” Lucanis said, his voice softening. He reached across the table and took her hand in his, the calluses of his palm a comforting contrast to the tenderness of the gesture. “Because you are sweetness itself, Uccellina.”

The air between them shifted, growing heavier with unspoken emotion. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw something she wasn’t sure she deserved but couldn’t help wanting.

“You’re too smooth for your own good,” she murmured, though her heart raced at the way his gaze never wavered.

Lucanis’ lips curved into a faint smile. “Perhaps. But tonight, I’ll indulge in saying what I mean. Sei la mia luce.”

Her breath hitched, and she gave his hand a small squeeze. “And you’re mine. Even if you do drink the bitterest coffee known to man.”

They laughed softly, the sound low and intimate, a shared moment that felt like it belonged only to them. As the evening deepened, Lucanis leaned back in his chair, his hand never leaving hers.

“I could sit here forever,” he said quietly, his voice like a promise. “With you. Just like this.”

Rook smiled, her heart full. “Then I guess you’ll have to get used to whipped cream.”

“For you?” he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss over her knuckles. His eyes met hers, dark and unwavering. “Sempre, Uccellina.”

The moment lingered, the world outside the tavern fading into irrelevance. There, in the golden glow of Treviso, they found something sweeter than any coffee: a quiet certainty that they had each found their place in each other.

——————————————————————————

Hey guys! I’m back after a short hiatus due to finals week and winter break! (I’m a junior in University).

I will start the fanfics back up, but I would appreciate it, if I could get some ideas of the kind of writing you’d like to see!

Anyways! Happy Holidays!!!

——————————————————————————

Non mi importa: I don’t care

Tesoro: Treasure/Darling/Sweetheart

Un caffè nero: Black coffee

Cara mia: My beloved

Bello: Handsome

Uccellina: Little Crow/Little Bird

Sei la mia luce: You are the light of my life

Sempre: Always

——————————————————————————

[uhbambii]

The Lazy Morning

The chill of a late Winter morning seeped through the cracks of the grand Dellamorte villa, despite the thick stone walls and heavy drapes. Frost painted the windows, the delicate patterns a testament to the icy fingers of the season outside. But within Lucanis Dellamorte’s bedroom, warmth reigned.

Rook, wrapped in an absurd number of blankets was cocooned in the middle of the oversized bed. She had commandeered every available layer of warmth, from the soft linens to the embroidered quilts. Only her head poked out from the fortress of fabric, her hair a stark contrast against the dark, richly woven coverlets. Her sharp crow-like wit was nowhere to be found this morning; instead, her sleepy expression resembled a satisfied feline, reluctant to face the day.

Lucanis stood by the window, silhouetted against the weak light of the rising sun. His dark hair was tousled, as though he hadn’t bothered running a comb through it yet, and his sharp features were softened by an air of amused indulgence. His dark eyes flicked toward the bundle of blankets on the bed, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You look ridiculous,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice, low and smooth, carried the hint of laughter beneath its polished veneer. “I’m fairly certain this villa has never housed anyone as absurd as you.”

Rook’s only response was a faint grunt of protest. She burrowed deeper into the blankets, curling tighter like a contented bird in its nest. “Cold,” she muttered, her voice muffled. “This house is a mausoleum. I swear the Dellamorte ancestors haunt it just to drop the temperature.”

Lucanis huffed a quiet laugh. “I’ll have you know this mausoleum is the pinnacle of crow architecture. Generations of the Dellamorte family would take offense at your critique, cara mia.”

Rook peeked one pale eye out from the blankets. “The Crows didn’t invent insulation, apparently,” she quipped. “Or comfort.”

Shaking his head, Lucanis turned from the window and approached the bed. The morning light caught on the intricate embroidery of his house robe—a deep crimson velvet with black and gold trim, so perfectly tailored it was almost offensive. Even lounging in his own home, he carried himself with an effortless, lethal grace that marked him as both First Talon and assassin.

When he reached the bed, he gave a mock bow, leaning forward to press his forearms against the edge of the mattress. “If you find my family’s ancestral home so inhospitable, why don’t you simply get up?”

Rook glared at him, though her expression lacked its usual edge. “No.”

Lucanis’s smile widened. “No?”

“No,” she said again, her voice firmer this time. “This is my home now, too, and I’m declaring this bed the warmest spot in the villa. You can pry me out of here if you dare.”

He sighed, long-suffering, but there was no hiding the warmth in his expression. Lucanis leaned closer, his face hovering just above hers. “You’re lucky you’re adorable, uccellina,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

Rook tilted her head, her lips curving into a sly smile. “So lucky,” she replied, voice heavy with feigned exhaustion.

Without warning, Lucanis slipped a hand beneath the mound of blankets, his fingers cold as they brushed against her side. Rook let out a sharp yelp, her eyes snapping open fully. “Lucanis!” she squawked, swatting at his arm as she squirmed beneath her fortress.

His laughter was soft but unrestrained, a sound that carried rare warmth. “It’s good to know you’re not entirely immobilized, Uccellina,” he teased, using the nickname he’d given her early in their partnership.

“You’re awful,” she muttered, but there was no venom in her words, just a grudging affection.

Lucanis settled on the edge of the bed, his smirk softening into something gentler. He reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. Despite her protests, she leaned into his touch, relaxing.

“You know,” he said, his tone quieter now, “if you’re so determined to stay in bed, I suppose I could join you. For the sake of preserving your fragile constitution, of course.”

Rook’s gaze flicked up to meet his, her eyes glinting with amusement. “For my sake, huh?”

“Entirely selfless on my part,” Lucanis replied smoothly, though the tilt of his lips suggested otherwise.

She sighed theatrically but shifted to make space for him, her blankets rustling as she lifted a corner in invitation. “Fine. But you’d better not steal the covers.”

With an elegance that bordered on infuriating, Lucanis slipped beneath the layers, his warmth immediately seeping into the cocoon of fabric. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him as they settled together.

For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. Rook nestled closer, her breath warm against his chest.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice softer now, “I could get used to mornings like this.”

Lucanis pressed a kiss to her temple, his dark eyes closing as he held her close. “So could I, cara mia. So could I.”

———————————————————————————

Uccellina: Little bird/crow

Cara Mia: My beloved

_________________________________________________

[uhbambii]

Warm Evenings

Lucanis Dellamorte stretched out lazily on the plush couch in the sitting room of his family villa, the soft glow of the evening sun streaming in through the large windows. His dark hair was slightly mussed from Rook’s fingers combing through it absentmindedly earlier, and his deep brown eyes, rich and warm as espresso, glimmered with a rare tranquility.

Rook lay draped against his chest, her head nestled just below his chin. Her slight frame fit perfectly against him, and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a soothing counterpoint to the muted sounds of the villa beyond their cozy cocoon.

“You know,” Rook murmured, her voice soft and laced with amusement, “Viago and Teia were at it again earlier.”

Lucanis chuckled, a low, gravelly sound that made Rook smile. “Flirting like their lives depend on it?”

“Always,” she replied with a laugh. “Viago was leaning against the doorway, reciting some ridiculous poem, and Teia just ate it up. She’s pretending she doesn’t care, but we both know she loves it.”

Lucanis grinned. “You’re right. Teia would gut someone for saying she has a soft spot, but the moment Viago walks in…” He trailed off, tilting his head to look down at Rook. “I don’t know how they manage to keep a straight face half the time. Maybe they think we don’t notice.”

Rook smirked, tracing lazy circles on his chest with her finger. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

“Subtle?” Lucanis scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. “They’ve redefined the word ‘obvious.’ Honestly, I’m tempted to start flirting openly with you just to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

Rook raised an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “Oh? And how would you do that, Lucanis Dellamorte?” Her tone was playful, teasing.

He smirked, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’d start by dramatically throwing myself at your feet, professing my undying devotion.”

Rook burst out laughing, the sound light and infectious. “You’d never!”

“I would! And then I’d serenade you from the balcony. Viago would have to unwillingly listen to his little sister be serenaded.”

Her laughter only grew, and Lucanis grinned triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself. “Mark my words, uccellina, One day, you’ll even find me reciting sonnets in the middle of the market square.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said, her voice still thick with laughter.

The gentle warmth of the moment wrapped around them like a soft blanket. Slowly, Lucanis’ breathing evened out, and his arms grew slack around her. Rook tilted her head slightly to look up at him and found his eyes closed, his lips parted as he slipped into a peaceful sleep.

Carefully, she shifted in his arms, wiggling free without waking him. She paused for a moment, watching the way the evening light highlighted the sharp planes of his face. He looked so peaceful, so at ease. Smiling softly, she padded off to the kitchen.

——————————————————————————

As Rook padded into the kitchen, her thoughts swirled with the comforting idea of freshly brewed coffee. She reached for the kettle and set it on the stovetop, humming softly to herself. The soft clinks of cups and spoons echoed in the cozy space as she moved about, the domestic rhythm soothing and familiar.

Just as she began scooping coffee grounds into the pot, two warm arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her gently against a solid chest. Lucanis rested his chin on her shoulder, his dark eyes still a little hazy from his nap, but his lips curved into a small, mischievous smile.

“Caught you,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “Trying to sneak off and leave me alone. Shame on you, uccellina.”

She grinned, shaking her head. “I was making coffee, not abandoning you. Big difference.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, clearly unconvinced. “You could’ve woken me, you know. It’s cruel to leave me cold and alone while you’re in here, hoarding all the warmth.”

Rook laughed softly, placing a hand over his where it rested on her waist. “You were too peaceful to wake up. Besides, I thought you’d appreciate the smell of coffee more than me nudging you.”

Lucanis tightened his hold slightly, swaying them both gently from side to side. “Fair point,” he admitted. “But now that I’m awake, I think I should help. Or, at least, supervise.”

“Oh, you’re supervising now?” she teased, tilting her head to glance at him. “You don’t trust me with coffee-making? Afraid I’ll make a Neve brew?”

“You wound me,” he said dramatically, his dark eyes sparkling with humor. “I’ll have you know, I can make an excellent cup of coffee. In fact, I’m better at it than you and definitely Neve.” He chuckled.

“Big words for someone who’s holding me hostage instead of grabbing the sugar,” she shot back, smirking.

Lucanis laughed, his breath warm against her ear. “All right, all right. I’ll grab the sugar.” He reluctantly released her, stepping away to rummage through the cupboards, his tousled hair falling into his eyes. Rook watched him for a moment, her chest tightening with an inexplicable wave of affection.

When he returned with the sugar jar, he set it on the counter and leaned against it, watching her as she poured the boiling water into the coffee pot. “You know,” he said, his tone shifting to something softer, “this is nice.”

“Making coffee?” she asked, glancing at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Being here. With you. Doing something so… normal,” he said, gesturing to the scene around them. “I’ve had enough chaos in my life to know how rare this is.”

Rook paused, her hands stilling for a moment as she looked at him. His dark eyes held hers, earnest and warm, and the weight of his words settled over her like a soft blanket. “I think I needed this too,” she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with the same tenderness.

He smiled, the corners of his mouth tilting upward in that roguish way that always made her heart flutter. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” He stepped closer, his hand brushing hers as he reached for the cups. “Now, let me prove to you that I’m more than just a charming face. I’ll finish the coffee, and you can sit there looking adorable.”

Rook laughed, swatting at his arm. “Adorable? That’s your grand romantic line?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” he shot back with a grin, deftly pouring the coffee into the cups and adding just the right amount of sugar and cream to each. He handed her a cup, their fingers brushing briefly, and for a moment, the kitchen fell quiet, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

As they stood there, sipping their coffee and exchanging soft smiles, Lucanis suddenly reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, tracing the line of her jaw as he looked at her with an expression so full of warmth it made her knees weak.

“I hope you know,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “that these little moments with you? They’re everything to me.”

Rook felt her cheeks flush, but she met his gaze steadily, her lips curving into a small smile. “Lucanis…”

“No, let me finish,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I’ve been in places— the Ossuary… where I didn’t know if I’d ever feel… this. This kind of peace. But you—you’ve given me that. You’ve given me so much more than I ever thought I deserved.”

Her heart swelled, and she reached up to rest a hand on his chest. “You deserve all of it,” she said softly. “And more.”

Lucanis’ smile widened slightly, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. “You’re going to make me fall even harder for you, Rook,” he teased gently, though his tone was thick with emotion.

“Good,” she whispered, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Because I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the smell of coffee wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Eventually, Lucanis chuckled and stepped back, lifting his cup with a wink. “Now, let’s see if my coffee-making skills really are better than yours.”

Rook rolled her eyes, though her smile didn’t falter. “If they’re not, I’m making the next pot.”

“Deal,” he said, clinking his cup lightly against hers. “But I warn you—I plan on winning this argument. And every other one after that.”

“Dream on, Amorino,” she teased, laughing as they wandered back to the sitting room together, the warmth of their coffee and their shared love making the villa feel like home.

———————————————————————————

Cute little cuddly moment, while also bullying her brother…. Yes!

Uccellina = little bird/little crow

Amorino = Masc. Ver. Of darling

Also deserved, Teia and Viago have some… open dialogue

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[uhbambii]

A Warm Greeting

The Dellamorte villa was quiet, bathed in the warm, golden glow of twilight filtering through the high windows. In the kitchen, Rook stirred a pot of rich, frothy hot chocolate over a low flame. Her deft hands moved with ease, though her focus waned, drifting to the familiar weight of anticipation. He’d be here soon. Lucanis Dellamorte always arrived silently, though she could pick out his footsteps, they carried an unmistakable rhythm that made her heart leap every time.

She reached for a second mug. He’ll expect one, she thought with a smirk.

The kitchen floor creaked, and there he was, framed by the fading light of day. Lucanis, with his dark hair tousled by the wind and those piercing eyes that could unnerve and enthrall in equal measure, leaned casually against the doorframe. He looked as if he owned the world—or at least the space he stood in.

“Rook,” he said, voice low and rich like a whisper from shadows.

Without turning, she decided to try her hand at a phrase she’d overheard in the market. Dalish, they’d said. A loving greeting that might spark a reaction from her lover. “Emma salin,” she purred, letting the words roll off her tongue like liquid silk.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

When she finally looked up, Lucanis was frozen, a slow grin breaking across his face. A laugh escaped him, warm and genuine, yet tinged with wicked amusement.

“Emma salin?” he repeated, voice a velvet tease as he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered toward her. His movements were unhurried, predatory, like a cat toying with its prey. “Do you know what that means, Tesoro?”

She tilted her head, playing innocent despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach. “Isn’t it a friendly greeting? Like… ‘Welcome home’?”

Lucanis stopped just short of her, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “Not quite.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance as he stepped closer, invading her space with that maddening confidence.

“It means,” he began, his lips curving into a slow, deliberate smirk, “I want you within me.”

Rook froze, the heat of a blush creeping up her neck as the meaning sank in. The wooden spoon slipped from her fingers, clattering into the pot of hot chocolate.

His laugh was deep, rich, and utterly unapologetic. “Was that the effect you were going for, uccellina? Or was this a happy accident?”

She turned back to the pot, stirring it furiously to avoid his gaze. “I was just testing a phrase. Thought it might mean something… sweet.”

“It’s sweet, in a way,” Lucanis said softly, his voice warm and light, a playful lilt in his words as he took a step closer. His breath brushed against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “And very tempting. I must admit, I’m flattered.”

Rook spun around, holding the spoon in front of her like a little shield, though the smile creeping onto her lips betrayed her nerves. “Don’t get smug,” she said, her voice trying to sound firm but failing miserably. Before she could step away, he was already there, leaning in just enough to press her lightly against the counter. His hand rested gently on her lower back, pulling her a bit closer, the warmth of his touch wrapping around her like a cozy blanket. His other hand braced beside her, fingers curling against the counter with a quiet confidence, and his eyes twinkled with affection.

“Smug? Never,” he whispered, his words teasing yet full of sweetness that made her heart flutter. His lips brushed against her temple, soft and tender, sending a warm wave of comfort through her. His familiar scent filled the air, wrapping her in a sense of calm and safety.

“You should be careful with Dalish phrases, uccellina,” he continued, his voice a mix of gentle sweetness and teasing warmth. “You might start something you’re not ready to finish.”

Rook’s breath caught, her heart racing, but she was determined not to let him see just how much his words affected her. “Says who?” she replied, her voice breathless but trying to sound confident, though she couldn’t help the way her pulse quickened.

Lucanis chuckled softly, a rich, warm sound that made her chest tighten with a pleasant ache. His hand shifted at her waist, his thumb brushing the soft skin above her hip in the gentlest way, and it felt like her heart was melting. “I have no doubt about your determination,” he said as he leaned in, his face just inches from hers, their breaths mingling in the space between them. His lips hovered above hers, warm and so close that she could feel the thrum of his heartbeat. “But finishing something…” he whispered, his voice low and affectionate, “requires a kind of control. And you, uccellina, seem to lose that control when you’re near me.”

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t move away. The air between them was thick with sweetness, with a quiet warmth that made everything outside feel distant and unimportant. “You’re so sure of yourself,” she said, though her voice trembled slightly, betraying the fluttering in her chest. “Maybe I’ll surprise you.”

His smile deepened, impossibly warm and tender, and her stomach fluttered with something sweet, something pure. He pressed closer, so that their bodies were nearly together, the heat of him enveloping her in a soft, happy warmth. Gently, he took the spoon from her hand, dipping it into the hot chocolate with a slow, deliberate movement, never breaking eye contact. He lifted it to his lips, tasting it with a soft hum of approval. “Delicious,” he murmured, his voice smooth and sweet. “But I think I might crave something even sweeter.”

Rook whispered, “Stop it, you flirt,” but her fingers had a mind of their own, curling into his shirt and pulling him a little closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Stop what?” he whispered back, his voice warm and teasing, his smile full of affection and something more. He leaned in just a fraction closer in a way that made her heart race.

“Lucanis,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, soft and full of longing. Her chest tightened with the proximity, her heart racing.

His response was so tender, so full of affection, that it took her breath away. His lips pressed to hers, slow and gentle, the kind of kiss that felt like time had stopped. His hand slid up her back, fingers gently threading through her hair, drawing her closer as though they’d always been meant to be this close. Every movement was full of quiet promise, and in that moment, the whole world seemed to fade away.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she matched the pace of his kiss, soft and tender. The connection between them felt so natural, so right, like a quiet certainty they didn’t need to speak. They paused only to catch their breath, and then he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his voice a playful whisper. “You taste better than chocolate,” he murmured, his words wrapped in sweetness, making her heart flutter in her chest.

They both laughed softly, their laughter mingling like a shared secret, as they stood there, wrapped in the warmth of the villa and the even warmer feeling between them. The pot of hot chocolate sat forgotten on the counter, but neither of them cared. In that moment, all that mattered was the quiet, perfect sweetness of being together—the kind of closeness that made everything feel like it was exactly as it was meant to be.

———————————————————————————

Short, sweet and not my greatest work 😭

But rookanis fluff?

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[uhbambii]

Sweet Mischief

The sun was setting over the lush estate of the Dellamorte Villa, its golden rays streaming through the arched windows of the spacious kitchen. The warm glow softened the edges of the old stone walls, the copper pots hanging above the counter gleaming like little halos. It was a scene far removed from the blood-soaked world of intrigue, blades, and whispered betrayals that Lucanis Dellamorte and his fellow Crows inhabited.

Tonight, however, was about something infinitely simpler. Cookies.

“Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Lucanis teased, leaning against the counter, his arms crossed in that deceptively casual way of his. His dark hair fell loosely around his face, and those dark, calculating eyes of his watched Rook like a hawk circling prey. There was no menace in them tonight, only a gleam of amusement.

Rook glared at him, a smear of flour on her cheek. “I said I’ve eaten cookies before. That doesn’t mean I’ve made them. Details.”

“Details are everything, Rook,” he said with a soft chuckle, pushing away from the counter. He stepped closer, his movements smooth and deliberate, the way they always were. She knew he couldn’t help it—he could make baking cookies feel like plotting an assassination.

“Alright, master baker,” Rook said, rolling her eyes. “What’s next? Do I crack this egg or stab it first?” She held up an egg like it was an unfamiliar artifact, smirking when Lucanis gave her that slow shake of his head.

Lucanis sighed dramatically, stepping into her space. “I’m beginning to think you’re sabotaging this on purpose just to keep me here longer,” he murmured, his voice dropping into that velvet tone that made her heart trip.

Rook huffed, turning her face away from him—and directly into the cloud of flour she’d just spilled on the counter. She coughed, waving her hand to clear the air.

“Maker’s breath,” Lucanis laughed, the sound rich and rare, his shoulders shaking as he leaned closer. “You’re a disaster.”

“I’m your disaster,” Rook shot back, grinning at him despite her flour-covered state.

He froze for half a heartbeat, the amusement in his eyes softening into something warmer. “That you are,” he said softly, brushing a stray lock of her hair back behind her ear. His fingertips lingered for just a moment too long, and then he was stepping away, clearing his throat.

“Right,” Lucanis said, turning his attention back to the counter. “Lesson one: Don’t assault the eggs.”

Rook stuck her tongue out at him but followed his instructions this time, cracking the eggs—mostly successfully—into the mixing bowl. Lucanis moved like he owned the kitchen, measuring ingredients by eye, kneading dough with a precision that belied his reputation as a deadly assassin.

“You’re oddly good at this,” Rook observed, watching him shape the dough into perfect little spheres. She’d tried to mimic his technique, but her attempts looked more like misshapen lumps.

“Let’s just say baking requires the same patience and attention to detail as my other…skills,” Lucanis replied, glancing at her with a knowing smirk. “Besides, everyone has their secrets.”

“Not sure baking cookies is the kind of secret that makes you terrifying, Luc,” Rook said, grinning as she leaned a hip against the counter.

“Ah, but imagine how devastating it would be,” Lucanis said, leaning closer again. “An enemy expecting poison…only to find perfectly baked cookies instead. Psychological warfare at its finest.”

Rook laughed, shaking her head. “Maker help me, I actually believe you’d do that.”

“I would,” he said solemnly, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before flicking back to her eyes.

The moment stretched, and Rook felt her breath hitch. Lucanis was close enough now that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, the spice of his cologne mingling with the sweet scent of the cookie dough. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but before she could, he reached out and swiped a fingerful of dough from the bowl.

"Here," he murmured, his voice dropping into that dangerous, honeyed tone he reserved for when he wanted something-usually trouble. "Taste."

Rook raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Really? Feeding me dough like l'm some pampered noble's pet?"

Lucanis's lips curved into a slow, wolfish grin. "You're too spirited to be a pet. But I wouldn't mind taming you, uccellina." The nickname-a playful twist on her name, meaning "little bird"-rolled off his tongue in a way that made her stomach flip.

Rook narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. "Fine. If it'll shut you up."

She leaned forward, her lips brushing against his finger as she let her tongue dart out to taste the dough. The sweetness of the batter hit her tongue first, but it was the sensation of Lucanis's gaze on her that made her pulse quicken. Her tongue slid along the length of his finger, slow and deliberate, as if she were savoring every flavor. She pulled back just slightly, her lips still grazing his skin, and gave him a sly look through her lashes to see how far she could push him.

Lucanis's smirk faltered for a heartbeat, his dark eyes flickering with something hotter, hungrier. His finger lingered against her lips, the pads of his fingers brushing her skin as she pulled away.

"Sweet," she said, her voice deliberately soft, almost sultry. "But... not quite as good as you were making it out to be."

Lucanis blinked, his mask of composure slipping for a fraction of a second. His jaw tightened, and a low chuckle escaped him-a sound that was all heat and danger. "You're playing a dangerous game, Rook," he murmured, his voice smooth but tinged with something darker. "Careful, or you might find yourself in over your head."

"Please," she replied, grinning as she leaned back, her hand brushing against the counter as if to steady herself. "You talk a big game, but all I see is someone flustered over a little finger-licking."

"Oh, you want to play this game?" he said, his voice a soft growl as he stepped closer, his frame towering just enough to make her feel cornered in the most thrilling way. "Careful, little bird. You might find I play to win."

Rook swallowed hard, her pulse racing. "What's the worst you'll do? Bake me into the next batch of cookies?"

He lifted his hand, the same finger she'd licked, and trailed it down the side of her cheek, brushing away the faint smear of flour there. "No," he murmured, his tone low and teasing. "But if you're this bold with dough, uccellina, I can only imagine how bold you'd be with something else." Lucanis leaned in until his lips were near her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "I'll make you beg for a taste of something better," he whispered, his voice low enough to make her knees weaken.

Rook's heart raced, and for a moment, her sharp tongue failed her. She swallowed, forcing herself to smirk even as heat bloomed in her cheeks. "Guess you'll just have to keep wondering," she shot back, though her voice was a touch breathier than she intended.

Lucanis blinked, then laughed, a real laugh that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Oh? Truly uccellina, I never just wonder," he said, his voice velvet and fire. "I make sure I find out," he smirked, grabbing a handful of flour.

“Don’t you dare!” Rook shrieked, ducking under his arm.

The next few minutes devolved into chaos—flour flying, dough sticking to everything, and laughter echoing off the walls. By the time they called a truce, both of them were a mess, their clothes and hair dusted white, but neither seemed to care.

Lucanis stepped closer, "You truly are trouble," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, laced with a teasing edge. But there was no mistaking the warmth in it, a heat that wrapped around her and made her pulse flutter. "An chaotic bundle of trouble."

Rook swallowed, forcing herself to find her voice despite the way his gaze pinned her in place. "But you like trouble, right?" she quipped, her tone light but her grin faltering under the weight of his attention.

Lucanis's lips curved into a slow, predatory smile, one that made her stomach twist and her knees feel weak. "Only if it’s you," he said, the words a quiet, unshakable promise. His hand fell from her cheek, only to find its place on her waist, the firm weight of his palm sending a shiver racing down her spine. He tugged her closer, just enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him.

"Maker's breath, Luc," she whispered, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. "You're going to ruin me with that look."

He leaned in, his face so close she could feel the warmth of his breath brushing her skin. His lips hovered just out of reach, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. "Funny. You've been ruining me since the moment I met you."

The words hit her like a jolt, but she didn't have time to respond before he closed the distance, his lips claiming hers with the kind of confidence that left no room for hesitation. The kiss wasn't soft-it was firm, purposeful, like he was staking his claim.

Rook gasped against his mouth, her hands instinctively gripping the front of his flour-dusted shirt. Lucanis responded instantly, his hand sliding to the small of her back and pulling her flush against him. His other hand came up to cradle her jaw, tilting her head to deepen the kiss.

His lips moved against hers with a skill that made her head spin, teasing and coaxing until she was practically melting into him. He kissed her like he owned her, like he wanted to savor every second but couldn't resist taking more. The faint taste of sugar and spice lingered between them, adding to the intoxicating pull of him.

When he finally broke the kiss, Rook was left breathless, her cheeks flushed and her heart racing. He didn't pull away entirely, though-his forehead rested against hers, his hand still firmly at her waist, keeping her close.

"You're dangerous, you know that?" she murmured, her voice uneven as she tried to catch her breath.

Lucanis chuckled softly, the sound a low rumble that sent heat pooling in her stomach. His thumb brushed her cheek, his smirk returning, though the heat in his eyes hadn't dimmed. "Dangerous?" he echoed, his tone playful but edged with something darker, something irresistible. "Coming from the woman who just made me forget the rest of the world existed, I'll take that as a compliment."

Rook's lips twitched into a grin, though her cheeks were still burning. "You're impossible," she muttered, though the words lacked any real bite.

"Impossible to resist, maybe," he replied, his smirk widening as his thumb traced along her jawline. His gaze dipped to her lips again, his voice dropping lower. "Care for another taste, uccellina?"

Before she could answer, he tilted her chin up and kissed her again, harder this time, with more fire. His grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging in just enough to make her breath catch as he pulled her firmly against him. Rook responded instinctively, her hands sliding up his chest to wrap around his neck, her body molding against his like they were two pieces of a puzzle.

Lucanis shifted, guiding her back against the counter, his hands steady and sure as he deepened the kiss. His lips left hers briefly, only to trail a path along her jaw, down to the curve of her neck. The soft scrape of his teeth against her skin made her gasp, her fingers tightening in his hair as he kissed the sensitive spot just below her ear.

"Luc.." she managed, her voice a breathless mix of protest and plea.

"Hm?" he murmured against her neck, his tone amused but layered with heat. His hand slid up her back, his touch firm and possessive. "Distracted, uccellina? Should I stop?"

"Don't you dare," she shot back, her voice sharper now, though the flush on her cheeks betrayed her.

Lucanis chuckled again, the sound low and dangerous. He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes burning with something that made her knees feel weak.

"Good," he said, his lips brushing hers in a teasing almost-kiss. "Because I'm not done with you yet." He claimed her lips again, his kiss so consuming that the world around them— flour-dusted counters, forgotten cookie dough, the faint smell of something baking— disappeared entirely.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling and their cheeks flushed, Rook managed to find her voice. "The cookies," she said, though her tone lacked any real urgency.

"Let them burn," Lucanis murmured, his smirk back in full force as his thumb brushed her bottom lip. "I have much better things to taste."

And as his lips captured hers once more, the cookies were forgotten. For now….

———————————————————————————

Trying to write more adult themes!

Advice is welcomed 🙏

——————————————————————————

[uhbambii]

A Satinalia to Remember

The Dellamorte villa had been transformed. What was once a stately, shadowed retreat of tall pillars, marble floors, and quiet menace now sparkled with golden light and festive color. Twinkling candles lined every windowsill, garlands draped the staircases, and ribbons in deep greens and reds cascaded from every imaginable surface. The air smelled of pine, cinnamon, and something sweet—likely the cookies Rook had insisted that Lucanis prepare earlier that day, all while she “taste tested” the batter.

Lucanis stood in the doorway of the parlor, one arm braced against the frame, a cup of black coffee in hand. His dark eyes scanned the room with a slow, practiced deliberation, but no amount of training could prepare him for this level of… festive assault.

His gaze finally landed on the culprit. Rook was curled up on the couch beneath a soft blanket, one leg tucked under her, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of hot chocolate. She had decorated herself almost as much as the room—her hair tied loosely back, a soft sweater that hinted at curves he knew far too well, and the faintest dusting of powdered sugar on her cheek from earlier “taste testing.”

“You know,” he began, his voice a velvety mix of amusement and exasperation, “I’m starting to think the that the De Riva Crows sent you to drown me in garlands and twinkling lights.”

Rook glanced up, her eyes sparkling. “Is that your way of saying you like it?”

Lucanis crossed the room, his stride unhurried, predatory in its precision, before settling onto the couch beside her. He leaned back, stretching his arm along the top of the couch, his fingers idly brushing her shoulder. “Like is a strong word,” he teased, taking a slow sip of coffee. “I’m just wondering if I’ll ever be able to look at my villa again without seeing glitter in the shadows.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Rook replied, smirking as she leaned against him. Her head rested on his shoulder, and she sighed contentedly. “It’s Satinalia! You’re supposed to enjoy it, not sit there brooding like some tragic hero from a bard’s tale.”

“Tragic hero?” He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Tesoro mio, I am neither tragic nor a hero. If anything, I’m the shadow lurking behind the bard, waiting for the right moment to cut his strings.”

Rook rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “You can’t even let Satinalia soften you, can you? All this warmth, this beauty…” She gestured dramatically to the room.

“It’s my charm,” he replied smoothly, his dark eyes glittering as they met hers. “You seem to enjoy it well enough.”

“Hmm.” Rook took a slow sip of her hot chocolate, her lips quirking into a smirk over the rim of her mug. “I do enjoy it. But you know what I’d enjoy more?”

“Do tell,” Lucanis drawled, setting his coffee aside. He leaned closer, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “I’m dying to know what else I can do to make you happy, amore mio.”

She tilted her face up toward his, her eyes locked on his. “Well,” she began, her voice dropping just slightly, “I’d enjoy it if you stopped pretending you don’t love all of this.” Her free hand gestured to the tree, the garlands, the twinkling lights. “Admit it. You love it. You love me. And you love the idea of doing this every year—with our child.”

Lucanis froze for a fraction of a second, his sharp composure cracking just enough for her to notice. His fingers tightened slightly around his coffee cup before he set it down beside her mug, turning to face her fully.

"Our child?" he repeated, his voice low and smooth, though the faintest trace of surprise flickered in his dark eyes.

“Yes,” Rook said matter-of-factly, setting her mug down and turning to face him fully. “Our child. The one we’ll have someday, who will absolutely adore Satinalia because I’ll make sure they have all the best memories of it. And they’ll think their father is ridiculous for pretending to hate decorating.”

Lucanis chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ve already planned their childhood, have you? Impressive. Tell me, have involved am I in this scheme of yours.”

“Oh, you’re very much a part of it.” She leaned in, her voice a playful whisper. “You’re going to be the one handing me the tinsel while I tell them stories about how their father tried to outlaw fun before I got here.”

“Outlaw fun?” he repeated, his tone mock-offended. “You make me sound like some kind of tyrant.”

“Maybe you are,” she teased, her fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. “But I like tyrants. Especially handsome ones with dark eyes and even darker secrets.”

His grin widened, and he caught her wrist, bringing her hand to his lips to press a kiss against her palm. “Flattery will get you everywhere, tesoro.”

“Good,” Rook murmured, her voice softening as she leaned closer. “Because I have plans for you, Lucanis Dellamorte. Big plans. Decorating, parenting, maybe even teaching you how to smile without looking like you’re about to stab someone.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning shock. “You mean you think I can be taught? I must be more charming than I thought.”

“You’re something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smirk.

Lucanis's smile softened as he tilted her chin up with a gentle touch, his dark eyes holding hers as if she were the only thing that existed. "You know, tesoro, you've turned this villa into something more than I ever imagined it could be," he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek. "A place where I actually want to stay. A home. Our home."

Rook laughed softly, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. "Don't worry, Lucanis. I'll keep your secret... mostly. Although I think I might enjoy people knowing just how soft you are when it comes to me."

His hand slid down to her waist, his touch lingering as he pulled her even closer. "Soft, am I?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his lips brushed along the curve of her jaw. "Careful, Rook, or I'll have to remind you just how dangerous I can be."

"Oh, I'm terrified," she teased back, her voice warm and full of laughter. But her breath hitched as his lips traveled lower, trailing a line of heat along her neck, his hands sliding over her curves with a possessive reverence.

Lucanis's smile deepened as he tilted her chin up with a touch that was both firm and tender, his dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. "Do you have any idea what you've done to me, tesoro mio?" he murmured, his thumb brushing slowly along the curve of her jaw. "You've turned my life upside down-and somehow, I can't bring myself to care."

Before Rook could reply, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was far from gentle. It was deep and consuming, the kind of kiss that stole her breath and made her knees weak. His hand slid from her chin to cradle the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he tilted her head to deepen the angle. The pressure of his mouth against hers was unrelenting, as if he were determined to show her everything he couldn't quite put into words.

Rook's hands moved of their own accord, one curling around his neck while the other slid down his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his well-tailored shirt. The heat between them seemed to spark and grow with every touch, every brush of lips, until it felt like the air itself was charged with it.

When Lucanis finally pulled back, his breathing was uneven, his dark eyes burning as they locked onto hers. "You drive me mad," he murmured, his voice low and rough as his hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips traced a heated path down the side of her neck, lingering at the sensitive spot just below her ear. "Do you know that, Rook? I can't think straight when you're near me."

Rook's laugh was soft and breathless as her hands slid up his chest to cup his face, tilting his head back so she could meet his gaze. "Good," she teased, though her voice wavered with the warmth pooling in her chest. "I wouldn't want to be the only one losing my mind tonight."

Lucanis's smirk returned, but it was darker now, more dangerous. "You're playing with fire, amore mio," he murmured, his lips brushing hers with teasing softness before pulling away just enough to make her chase him. His hands roamed her curves with deliberate slowness, as if memorizing every inch of her. "But I don't mind getting burned."

Before she could reply, he captured her lips again, this time with even more intensity. His kiss was demanding, his hands sliding over her hips and up her sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He pulled her closer, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her blouse to skim the bare skin of her back. The sensation sent a shiver through her, and she pressed herself against him, her nails grazing the back of his neck.

Lucanis groaned softly against her lips, the sound vibrating through her as his hands moved to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly as he stood. She let out a surprised laugh, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he carried her toward the bedroom with purpose in his stride.

"You could've warned me," she murmured, though the laughter in her voice betrayed her delight.

"And ruin the surprise?" he teased, his voice a low, velvety murmur. "I don't think so, tesoro."

When they reached the bedroom, Lucanis kicked the door shut behind them before lowering her onto the bed with a care that belied the hunger in his gaze. He hovered over her for a moment, his hands braced on either side of her as he studied her, his dark eyes tracing every feature of her face as if committing it to memory.

"You're dangerous," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that made her heart race. His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "You've wrapped me around your finger, Rook. And Maker help me, I don't ever want to break free."

Her breath hitched as he leaned down, his lips pressing against hers once more, slower this time, but no less passionate. His hand slid down her side, tracing the curve of her waist before moving to her thigh, his touch firm and deliberate. The weight of him above her, the heat of his touch, the way his lips moved against hers-all of it left her breathless and wanting more.

Rook's hands found their way beneath his shirt, her fingers skimming the hard planes of his chest as she pulled him closer. Her lips parted against his, and he took full advantage, deepening the kiss until it felt like nothing else in the world existed but them.

When he finally pulled back, his lips were swollen, his breathing ragged as he rested his forehead against hers. "Happy Satinalia, Rook," he murmured, his voice rough with affection and desire.

Rook smiled, her hands sliding up to cradle his face as she leaned into him. "Happy Satinalia, Lucanis."

—————————————————————————

So I read somewhere that Satinalia is their version of Christmas? Idk but it was inspo 😌

Eat up? I’m working with bread crumbs atp!

——————————————————————————

[uhbambii]

A Quiet Morning in the Dellamorte Villa

The dawn light crept through the gauzy curtains of the Dellamorte villa, painting the bedroom in soft golds and shadows. Rook stirred beneath the weight of the silk sheets, her hair spilling across the pillow. Her eyes opened slowly, the remnants of a rare, peaceful sleep fading as her gaze landed on the man beside her.

Lucanis Dellamorte, famed heir to one of the most dangerous families and a Crow through and through, lay sprawled on his back, his sharp features softened by sleep. His dark hair framed his face in messy strands, and his angular jaw was shadowed with faint stubble. Despite the peaceful scene, there was something distinctly Lucanis about the way he lay there—an awareness in his stillness, a subtle control even in his rest. He was never really unguarded.

Rook allowed herself a moment to admire him, a rare indulgence. The two of them were not exactly the sort of people who could enjoy idle comforts. But here, in the quiet of his villa, with no one watching and no knives in the dark, she felt safe enough to linger.

Sliding out of bed carefully, she cast a glance over her shoulder. Lucanis didn’t stir. Her lips curled into a faint smirk as her eyes caught sight of his discarded shirt from the night before. Why not?

She slipped the oversized button-up over her shoulders. The fabric hung loosely on her frame, brushing her thighs. It smelled like him—spiced wine and gourmand, danger wrapped in charm. She rolled the sleeves up her arms and padded silently toward the kitchen, a thought forming in her mind.

Muffins.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The Dellamorte villa’s kitchen was absurdly lavish and well-stocked, for someone who rarely ventured home. Rook found the ingredients she needed with minimal fuss. She worked quickly, her Crow training making her as silent in a kitchen as she was in the shadows.

Rook stirred the flour in a bowl, humming softly under her breath, when a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

“Well, this is unexpected.”

She jumped slightly, spinning to see Lucanis leaning casually against the doorway, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He was shirtless, his dark eyes glittering with lazy amusement, his hair still mussed from sleep.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have a knife in my hand,” she said, her tone dry but her lips curving into a smile.

“And here I thought nothing could catch a Crow by surprise,” he replied, pushing off the doorway to saunter toward her. “But this… cara mia, this is a sight I wasn’t expecting to wake up to.”

His gaze slid pointedly down to the shirt she wore, his shirt, the top buttons undone to reveal just enough to make his smirk deepen. “Is this your way of staking a claim? I didn’t realize you were so territorial.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she shot back, turning back to the bowl. “I was cold. And you’re lucky I’m feeling generous. I was going to make muffins.”

“Muffins,” he repeated, the word dripping with exaggerated disbelief. “I must still be dreaming. Rook, the infamous Crow, is baking muffins in my kitchen? What’s next—embroidering handkerchiefs?”

“Keep talking, and I won’t save you any.”

Lucanis laughed softly, his voice low and rich as he stepped closer. His hands settled on her waist from behind, his presence warm and undeniably distracting. “You know,” he murmured near her ear, his breath brushing her neck, “you’re whisking that flour like it’s a target, you’ve received contract on. If you want these muffins to be edible, you’ll need to be gentler.”

Rook tried to focus on her task, but the way his hands slid along her hips wasn’t helping. “And what would you know about baking?”

“More than you’d think,” he said, his tone smug. “The Dellamorte name didn’t always keep me well-fed, you know. I had to learn a few things back when I was going through training.”

She snorted. “You? Starving? Hard to imagine.”

“Hard to imagine you in a kitchen, cara mia. Yet here we are.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips. Lucanis always had this way of disarming her, slipping past her defenses with that wicked grin and sharp wit.

He leaned closer, his hands tightening slightly on her waist as he teased, “Though I must say, this shirt looks far better on you than it ever did on me.”

“Are you going to help, or just stand there and flirt?”

“Why not both?” His voice was low, and before she could respond, he turned her to face him, lifting her effortlessly onto the cool marble countertop.

“Lucanis—”

He silenced her with a kiss, slow and deliberate, his lips brushing hers with maddening precision. One of his hands trailed up to tangle in her hair, the other remaining firm on her waist. The kiss deepened, his usual charm giving way to something more intent, more real.

When he finally pulled back, Lucanis lingered, his dark eyes locked on hers, warm and brimming with a familiar, maddening confidence. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down her arm, and a crooked smile played on his lips. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and rich, "you don't have to sneak off in the morning to make muffins. You could just wake me up. Though I can't promise we'd get out of bed anytime soon."

Rook raised an eyebrow, fighting the flush that crept into her cheeks. "And what exactly would you do, Lucanis mio, if I did?"

His grin widened, the kind of grin that usually preceded trouble. He leaned in closer, watching her carefully. "Oh, I can think of plenty of ways to make it worth your while. None of them involve flour."

Her lips twitched into a smirk, but she turned her face before he could see the warmth blooming across her face. "You're trouble, you know that?"

"I've heard rumors," he replied, stepping back just enough to grab the whisk from her hands. "But if you're sneaking around in my shirt to bake muffins, I must be doing something right." His eyes roved over her, slow and deliberate, lingering just a little too long. "It's a good look, by the way.”

Before she could reply, he stepped between her legs, settling his hands on her bare thighs. His lips hovered just above hers, close enough that her breath caught. "You could have stayed in bed," he murmured, his voice a velvet promise. "And I could've kept you... busy."

"Some of us like to start our mornings productively," she managed, though her voice was softer than she intended.

"Productive?" he teased, his eyes scanning hers as he spoke. "You're in my shirt, with no pants, making muffins in my kitchen. And here I was thinking you just wanted to drive me insane."

She smirked, leaning in just enough to brush her lips against his in a quick, teasing kiss. “Maybe I did,” she murmured, her tone as sweetly provocative as the look in her eyes.

Lucanis let out a low groan, his hands tightening briefly on her thighs before sliding up to rest on her hips. His forehead came to rest against hers, his voice a husky whisper laced with amusement. “Strega mia, one day you’re going to be the death of me.”

Her smirk widened, her hands slipping to his shoulders as she tilted her head playfully. “Is that a complaint?”

“Far from it,” he replied, his lips brushing against the corner of her mouth in a maddeningly light touch. “If I go, at least I’ll die happy—and very, very distracted.”

Rook laughed softly, pushing against his chest just enough to make him step back. “Well, I wouldn’t want to deprive Treviso of its most charming Crow just yet.”

“Il più affascinante, per favore,” he laughed with a wink, retreating only far enough to grab the whisk again. His gaze swept over her once more, lingering on her bare legs and the way his shirt clung to her. “Though if you keep parading around my kitchen like this, amore mio, I might be tempted to retire early.”

“Tempted?” she shot back, sliding off the counter and standing toe-to-toe with him. “I’d think you’d have better self-control than that, Amorino.”

He leaned in, close enough that their noses nearly touched, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. “With you? Self-control doesn’t stand a chance.”

She arched an eyebrow, fighting the grin threatening to break free. “You’re full of it, you know.”

“And yet, you tolerate it,” he quipped with a grin, echoing her earlier words as he turned back to the mixing bowl.

Rook leaned against the counter, watching him work, her smirk softening. Despite all his bravado and charm, there was something grounding about the way Lucanis moved in his own space, so at ease yet so attuned to her presence. She could feel it—the way he made her a part of his world without ever saying a word.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence as he gave her a sly glance. “Breakfast today, cara mia. Tomorrow… dinner?”

“Tomorrow?” she asked, feigning surprise. “You’re awfully confident I’ll still be here.”

Lucanis grinned, setting the whisk down and stepping closer to her again. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he murmured against her ear, “Oh, I’m very confident. After all, tesoro, I always get what I want.”

Her heart gave an unsteady flip, but she kept her smirk in place as she leaned back to meet his gaze. “And what is it you want, Lucanis?”

“You,” he said simply, his voice low and unguarded as his dark eyes held hers. Then, just as quickly, his lips curved into a devilish smile. “But I’ll settle for muffins… for now.”

Rook let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she pushed him toward the stove. “You really are trouble.”

“And you love it,” he tossed over his shoulder as he turned back to the batter.

She didn’t respond, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than she intended. Because, damn him, she did.

———————————————————————————

Is it possible to fall in love with my own writing???

IM EATING IT UPPPP!!!

———————————————————————————

[uhbambii]

Of Hushed Whispers

The glittering city of Treviso stretched out under the warm Antivan night, its cobblestone streets alive with the sound of music and laughter. The grand ballroom belonging to Dellamorte house was already packed with elegantly dressed figures, their masks gleaming under chandeliers that sparkled like captured starlight.

Rook adjusted her raven-black mask, her sharp eyes scanning the room. A surge of nerves threatened to unsettle her, though she did her best to bury it. Antiva’s crows were not known for their timidity, after all. Tonight, she was dressed in a sleek, dark red gown that clung to her frame, blending elegance with a touch of menace—appropriate for a crow, she thought.

“You clean up nicely, uccellina,” came a low, familiar voice behind her.

Rook turned to see Lucanis Dellamorte, his dark eyes glinting with mischief beneath a gold-lined mask. His midnight-black suit was impeccably tailored, the deep red accents along the lapel complementing the dark locs that framed his face. His gaze was sharp, but his smile was softer—dangerous, yet inviting.

“And you look entirely too comfortable,” Rook quipped, though she couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Ah, comfort is confidence, no?” Lucanis stepped closer, offering his arm. “Come, dance with me. Let’s show these amateurs how it’s done.”

Rook raised a skeptical brow. “You think you can keep up?”

Lucanis chuckled, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “Tesoro, I was born to lead.”

Without waiting for an answer, he led her onto the polished marble dance floor. The orchestra swelled, and the other masked dancers parted slightly to make way for the pair. Lucanis’s hand slid to Rook’s waist, guiding her as they began to move.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The music was a lively waltz, and Lucanis’s movements were fluid, confident. Rook found herself following his lead with ease, though she would never admit how much she enjoyed it.

“You’re good,” she said, trying to sound unimpressed, though her heart raced at the closeness between them.

“Good? Amore mio, I am magnifico,” Lucanis teased, leaning closer. His breath ghosted over her ear as he murmured, “And you—well, you’re dazzling tonight. It’s almost unfair to everyone else in this room.”

Rook felt heat rise to her cheeks but managed to roll her eyes. “Sweet talk won’t distract me, Amorino.”

“Distract you?” He smirked, spinning her expertly. “Why would I want to distract you when I can simply enjoy this moment, eh? You, in my arms, under the stars…”

“Under the chandeliers,” Rook corrected dryly, though her smile betrayed her.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Nearby, Teia and Viago observed the pair with mixed reactions. Teia sipped her wine and raised a brow at Viago. “Would you stop glaring holes into Lucanis?” she chided. “It’s unbecoming.”

Viago, whose dark eyes had been fixed on the dancing couple, scowled. His sharp features were framed by his usual untamed hair, and his black attire was as severe as his mood. “I’m not glaring.”

“You’re definitely glaring,” Teia replied. “Rook’s fine. She’s not some fledgling anymore.”

“She’s family,” Viago said curtly. “And Lucanis is—well, Lucanis.”

“Mm, fair point,” Teia said, hiding a smirk behind her glass. “But I think your sister can handle herself. And besides, she looks like she’s enjoying herself.”

Viago’s frown deepened as Lucanis whispered something to Rook, making her laugh softly.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The music slowed, shifting to a more intimate rhythm. Lucanis’s hand tightened slightly on Rook’s waist, pulling her closer. Their movements slowed, matching the sultry melody.

“You’re staring,” Rook said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Can you blame me?” Lucanis replied, his voice low and velvety. “You are… breathtaking.”

Rook felt her heart skip a beat. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, aren’t you?”

“Only because it’s true, bella mia,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “And because I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look when you smile.”

Before she could reply, the music ended, and the room erupted in applause. Lucanis took a step back and bowed dramatically, earning a soft laugh from Rook. She shook her head, but the warmth in her chest was undeniable.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Later that night, Lucanis led Rook back to his villa on the outskirts of Treviso. The air was cool and fragrant with the scent of blooming jasmine. The rooftop terrace of the Dellamorte villa was a world unto itself, far above the golden lights of the city.

Lucanis led her up to a blanket he had laid out. The view was stunning-stars scattered across the velvety sky, the city lights twinkling below like fireflies.

"Thoughtful," Rook said, sitting down and leaning back on her hands.

Lucanis sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. "I have my moments."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the distant hum of the city. Eventually, Lucanis turned to her, his expression unusually soft.

"You know, Rook," Lucanis began, his tone softer now, "there's a saying about the stars."

"Oh?" She turned her head to look at him, curious.

He nodded, pointing upward. "They say the brightest ones are the souls of those destined to burn the fiercest in life. Dangerous, fiery, unforgettable."

She smirked. "Are you trying to say l'm a star?"

Lucanis smiled, his gaze shifting to something gentler. "No, uccellina. You're the whole night sky."

Rook stared at him for a moment, unsure whether to tease him or let the warmth of his words settle in her chest. She chose the latter, though she couldn't resist a small grin. “Smooth, Amorino. Very smooth.”

"What can I say? I'm a man of many talents." The playful glint returned to his eyes as he shifted closer, propping himself up on one arm.

Rook shook her head softly, then leaned closer. "You're not so bad yourself," she teased, her voice barely audible.

Lucanis chuckled, leaning in until their lips met in a slow, gentle kiss. His lips were warm and insistent, coaxing her into the moment.

Rook melted into him, her fingers threading into his dark hair as the kiss deepened, their surroundings fading into insignificance. When they finally broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, and she swatted his chest lightly.

"You're insufferable," she muttered, though there was no mistaking the affection in her tone.

"And you love it," he countered, stealing another kiss before she could reply. This one was quicker but just as meaningful, his lips lingering on hers before trailing to the corner of her mouth. "Ammettilo," he murmured against her skin, his voice low and teasing. "You'd be lost without me."

Rook arched an eyebrow, though her fingers stayed tangled in his hair. "Bold of you to assume."

"Not bold… truthful," he corrected, reclining back onto the blanket and tugging her down to rest against his chest. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice turning serious, though there was still a playful edge to it. "I'm the perfect man for you, uccellina mia. Every touch, every kiss— it's all for you."

Rook smiled against his chest, her fingers tracing the outline of his shirt. "Then I suppose I should be grateful you've decided to share yourself with me."

Lucanis chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through her hair. "Cara mia, I'm not sharing— I'm giving my heart to you. And trust me, I'll be making sure you never forget that."

She lifted her head to meet his eyes, her gaze steady. "Oh? Is that a promise, Lucanis?"

He kissed her again, slow and deep, his voice barely a whisper as they broke apart. "Promise, amore. My heart is yours, now and always."

The stars above them seemed to shine a little brighter as they held each other close, the quiet moments between kisses full of promises, laughter, and the kind of love that burned as brightly as the night sky itself.

———————————————————————————

So this actually took me 4hrs. to write because I kept changing the ending 🥲

ANYWAYS, I’m turning crumbs to meals! Eat up!

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[uhbambii]

Sweet as Frosting

The Dellamorte villa was alive with warmth and laughter. The golden light of the kitchen illuminated the flour-dusted counter, where Rook stirred a bowl of batter with a bit more enthusiasm than technique. Her hair was tied loosely back, strands already falling free to frame her flushed cheeks.

Lucanis Dellamorte leaned against the counter beside her, his dark eyes brimming with quiet amusement. He was dressed in casual crow attire, nonetheless a bit intimidating to outsiders, though the frosting smudged across his sleeves made him look just a little less intimidating than usual.

“You know,” he drawled, his voice smooth and laced with mischief, “if you whisk any harder, the bowl might retaliate.”

Rook shot him a look, one brow arched. “I’m trying to make this perfect. You’re the one who insisted on cake instead of pie, so…” She trailed off, gesturing to the mess of ingredients around them.

Lucanis smirked. “Don’t blame me for your ambitious standards, tesoro. You’re the one who said you wanted to impress me.”

“Impress you?” Rook laughed, pausing to flick a pinch of flour at him. “Amorino, I think you’re already impressed enough.”

He tilted his head, watching her intently as though agreeing with that sentiment entirely. Then, without warning, he reached into the nearby frosting bowl, scooping a bit onto his finger and dabbing it across her nose.

“Lucanis!” she yelped, dropping the whisk and swiping at her face.

He was already laughing, the low sound resonating deep in his chest as he stepped back. “You’re much cuter when you’re messy, you know.”

“Oh, you’re asking for it now.”

Rook grabbed a handful of flour and flung it at him, hitting his dark shirt square in the chest. Lucanis stopped short, glancing down at the pale smudge on his otherwise pristine attire.

“You’re going to regret that,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

But Rook wasn’t waiting for his retaliation. She darted around the counter, laughing as Lucanis chased after her with a determined gleam in his eye. They ended up tangled in a playful scuffle, smearing frosting and flour on each other’s faces and hands as they stole kisses in between bursts of laughter.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The cake batter was forgotten for a while, though neither seemed to mind.

It wasn’t until much later, after the cake was baked and half-decorated, and Rook was perched on the countertop with Lucanis standing between her legs, their foreheads pressed together, that she glanced at the clock on the wall.

Her heart sank. “Andraste’s ashes,” she muttered, pulling back.

Lucanis frowned, his brows knitting together. “What is it?”

“It’s one in the morning,” Rook said, sliding off the counter in a panic. “I was supposed to be home by eleven. Viago’s going to kill me.”

Lucanis caught her hand before she could rush away, his expression softening. “Stay,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “I can smooth talk Viago tomorrow, save you some trouble.”

She sighed, torn between the warmth of his touch and the dread of her brother’s wrath. Finally, she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips.

“You’re impossible,” she whispered against his mouth before pulling away.

“And yet, you keep coming back,” Lucanis said with a smirk, watching her gather her things.

Rook rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face. “I’ll see you soon. Try not to miss me too much.”

Lucanis chuckled, “try not to get scolded too much,” his gaze following her as she slipped out into the night.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The De Riva villa was quiet as Rook climbed through the open window of her room, carefully lowering herself onto the floor. She thought she’d gotten away with it, until the light flicked on.

Rook froze, turning slowly to find Viago sitting in a chair by the door, his arms crossed and his dark eyes narrowed. He was still dressed, his usual sharp crow attire despite the late hour, though his expression betrayed his annoyance.

“You want to tell me where you’ve been all night?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

Rook scrambled for an excuse. “I was out with Teia,” she said quickly.

Another chair turned, and Teia spun into view with an equally unimpressed look. Her brown hair was loosely braided, and though her expression was softer than Viago’s, it was no less effective.

“Wanna try again?” Teia asked, arching a brow.

Rook winced. “I… was baking. At a friend’s place.”

“Baking,” Viago repeated, his tone flat. “Until one in the morning?”

“It’s… a very complicated recipe?” she offered weakly.

Teia exchanged a look with Viago, her lips twitching as though she were trying to suppress a laugh. Viago, however, didn’t seem amused.

“You know I don’t like it when you’re out this late,” he said, his voice softening slightly but still firm. “Anything could happen.”

Rook sighed, guilt creeping in. “I’m sorry, Vi. I lost track of time, that’s all. Nothing happened. I was perfectly safe at the Dellamorte villa.”

Viago’s brows furrowed, but his expression softened slightly. “Lucanis, huh?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Look, I’m not going to lecture you about seeing him. He’s… decent, as far as men like him go. Better than I expected, even. But, Rook—” His tone sharpened, the protective older brother coming through. “One in the morning? At his villa? What were you thinking?”

Teia gave him a small nudge, her tone gentler. “Vi, let her explain. She’s fine. Don’t make a scene.”

“I’m not making a scene,” Viago shot back, though his raised voice said otherwise.

Rook held up her hands, trying to de-escalate. “We were baking. Baking, Vi. I wasn’t sneaking off to plot assassinations or rile up the Antaam!”

“That’s not the point,” Viago said, standing now, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “The point is you said you’d be home by eleven. If you’re going to see Lucanis, or anyone for that matter, you don’t just vanish into the night like some teenager with no sense of responsibility.”

“Vanish?” Rook repeated, indignant. “I didn’t vanish, Viago. I was with someone you know and trust.”

“I trust him to keep his blades sharp and his secrets buried,” Viago said. “That doesn’t mean I trust him not to make a bad decision with my little sister.”

Teia sighed, cutting in before the argument could spiral further. “She’s not a child, Vi. She’s more than capable of holding her own. And it’s not like she’s going to take any nonsense from Lucanis or anyone else.” She turned to Rook with a wry smile. “But maybe let your brother know next time if you’re running late? He gets… dramatic when he’s worried.”

Rook couldn’t help but grin at Teia’s dry humor, though she turned back to Viago with a more serious expression. “I’m sorry, Vi. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just lost track of time, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”

Viago exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction. “Good. Because if you keep sneaking back at this hour, I might start sending messages to Lucanis about curfews.”

Rook’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

His lips quirked into a sly smirk. “Try me.”

Teia snorted a laugh, nudging Viago toward the door. “Alright, that’s enough. She’s apologized. Let her sleep, papa corvo.”

Viago huffed but relented, though not without a final glance at Rook. “Just… take care of yourself, okay? And next time, send a message through a crow.”

As the door closed behind them, Rook sank onto her bed, letting out a breath of relief. Her brother could be a pain, but at least he wasn’t trying to put Lucanis on some sort of watchlist.

But the lecture was worth it, she thought with a smile, the memory of Lucanis’s flour-dusted grin still fresh in her mind.

———————————————————————————

I wanted to write something with a little bit of comic relief, sprinkled with a touch of protective older brother Viago (My headcanon for crow! Rook).

————————————————————————-

Inspo for story: @trialsofthedas

Rook: *sneaking in through their window after a night at the villa*

Viago: *turning in their chair and flicking the light on* You want to tell me where you've been all night?

Rook: I was out with Teia?

Teia: *turning in their chair* Wanna try again?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

[uhbambii]

Soup Days

The lighthouse was quieter than usual, its warmth a stark contrast to the damp chill that had seeped into their bones during their trek through the Hossberg Wetlands. Rook sat bundled on the couch by the aquarium, her cheeks flushed—not from her usual sharp-edged confidence, but from the fever that had crept up on her after hours of trudging through muck and freezing rain. She sniffled miserably, rubbing at her sore throat, and glared half-heartedly at the bowl of soup Lucanis Dellamorte had just placed in front of her.

“I didn’t trek through miles of swamp just to be defeated by a cold,” she muttered hoarsely, her voice gravelly.

Lucanis, standing beside her with arms crossed, raised a sardonic brow. His dark eyes gleamed with humor as he crouched to her level. “Mia cara, it’s not a cold. It’s a warning from the Maker Himself to let me cook for you more often.” He gestured to the bowl. “Italian penicillin. Eat, and you’ll survive to see another day. Maybe even two.”

Rook huffed, her lips twitching into a small smile despite herself. Lucanis was impossible to argue with, especially when his quick wit came wrapped in that rich, sonorous voice. His dark hair fell loose around his face. It softened his sharp features in a way that made Rook’s heart stutter, even in her current, pathetic state.

She picked up the spoon reluctantly and tasted the soup. The warmth flooded her chest immediately, soothing the ache in her throat. Garlic, lemon, and just the right amount of spice.

“It’s good,” she admitted, her tone begrudging.

Lucanis grinned, leaning back on his heels like a smug cat. “Of course it’s good. Amore mio, when have I ever done anything that wasn’t perfect?”

Rook snorted, wincing as the effort aggravated her throat. “Let me count the ways—”

Before she could finish, Lucanis reached out and placed a hand on her forehead, his touch gentle. His fingers were calloused from a life of fighting and command, but now they were soft against her fevered skin. He frowned, the teasing momentarily replaced by a flicker of genuine concern.

“You’re still too warm,” he said quietly. Then his smirk returned, though it was softer this time. “And all this because you couldn’t let me take the lead for once. Really, tesoro, you’ve faced down ogres without so much as a scratch, and here you are, bedridden from a little weather.”

Rook tried to glare, but it lacked any real venom. “If you’re just going to mock me, you can take your soup back.”

“Oh, no, no, no. The soup stays. As does my company.” Lucanis moved to sit beside her, draping an arm over the back of the couch. His warmth was an instant comfort, even more effective than the blanket Rook had wrapped herself in.

Rook shifted, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Sempre,” he murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

She sighed, contentment settling over her despite her earlier complaints. The fever and soreness faded into the background as Lucanis started recounting an exaggerated tale of how he once sweet-talked an Orlesian merchant into selling him an entire crate of imported wine for half the price. His voice, rich with humor and charm, was better medicine than anything else.

As the evening stretched on, the lighthouse grew even quieter, the world beyond its walls fading into the hush of the fade. Lucanis’s fingers absently traced soothing patterns along her arm as she began to drift off, her head still nestled against his shoulder.

Just before sleep claimed her, she heard him murmur, so soft it almost seemed like a dream: “Ti amo, mia luce. Rest now.”

—————————————————————————

Okayyy, yall are eating up the Lucanis Fluff!!

same tho

[uhbambii]

An Evening at the Dellamorte Villa

The Dellamorte villa was beautiful, its elegance polished but understated, much like its owner. The warm glow of the fire danced across the room, the shadows playing along the stone walls and plush furniture. Lucanis Dellamorte sat on the edge of the couch, his posture straight, his dark, piercing eyes fixed on the woman beside him. His dark hair, slightly tousled, gave him an effortlessly refined appearance, as though he hadn’t given it a thought. His presence, as always, felt unshakable—calm, controlled, and ever so slightly intimidating.

Rook sat curled up at the other end of the couch, balancing a cup of coffee in her hands. A generous dollop of whipped cream topped the drink, and she took a slow sip, savoring the sweetness. It was a stark contrast to the man beside her, who held his plain, black coffee like it was just another tool to keep himself sharp.

“You drink it like a child,” Lucanis said, his voice low and edged with dry humor.

Rook looked up, blinking at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Excuse me?”

He gestured vaguely toward her cup. “The whipped cream. It’s excessive.”

She smirked at him, unbothered by his tone. “It’s delicious.”

“It’s indulgent.”

“That’s the point,” she replied, taking another long sip, the cream smudging her upper lip. She smiled at him over the rim of the mug, her sweetness contrasting with his ever-serious demeanor.

Lucanis tilted his head, his sharp gaze unwavering. “You’re impossible to argue with,” he muttered, though there was a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes.

She giggled, the sound soft and light. “I take that as a compliment.”

“Of course you do,” he said dryly, though he allowed the faintest curve of a smile to tug at his lips.

Despite his usual reserve, there was something about Rook that disarmed him, though he would never admit it aloud. Her presence was calming, warm, a welcome change from the constant weight of duty and responsibility that defined his life. She made the sharp edges of his world feel softer somehow.

As the fire crackled in the hearth, Rook leaned back into the couch, her gaze drifting to him. “You should relax more often, you know,” she said softly, her tone as warm as the glow of the room.

Lucanis raised an eyebrow. “This is me relaxing.”

She laughed again, and he couldn’t help but notice how her eyes sparkled when she did. “I think you can do better than that.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible,” he replied, deadpan, though there was a teasing undertone to his words.

“You just need more practice,” she said, her voice gentle but playful.

Lucanis watched her for a long moment, his piercing gaze softening slightly. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire. She looked utterly at ease, and it struck him how much he wanted to protect moments like this—her laughter, her light, her unwavering belief in him.

“You’ve got something,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet.

“What?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

He gestured to her mouth. “Whipped cream. On your lip.”

“Oh,” she said, her hand moving to wipe it away.

“Wait,” he said, his voice stopping her mid-motion. He set his cup down on the table and leaned forward, the intensity in his dark eyes making her breath hitch. “Let me.”

Her cheeks flushed as he closed the space between them. His movements were deliberate, his hand brushing her wrist as he gently lowered it. There was a moment of stillness, his gaze locked on hers, and then his lips met hers in a kiss so soft and certain that it stole the air from her lungs.

The sweetness of the whipped cream melted away as he lingered, his kiss deepening ever so slightly before he finally pulled back. He stayed close, his face mere inches from hers, his sharp features softened by an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Better,” he said, his voice low and filled with quiet satisfaction.

Rook’s cheeks were blazing, and she stared at him, her wide eyes making her look both stunned and endearing. “Lucanis,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?” he asked, his smirk returning, though this time it was softer, almost tender.

“That was…” She struggled for words, her heart still racing.

“A necessary correction,” he said, though the playful edge in his tone betrayed him.

She let out a breathless laugh, her embarrassment giving way to warmth. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, his arm moving to rest along the back of the couch, his fingers lightly brushing her shoulder, “you’re still here.”

She sighed, leaning into his touch. “I am,” she admitted, her voice soft.

He pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her with a protectiveness that felt as natural as it was rare. For a man who was so often stoic and distant, this moment of closeness was a revelation.

“You shouldn’t make a habit of this,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost teasing. “I’m not known for being good company.”

“I think you’re better company than you think,” she replied, her tone light but sincere.

His fingers brushed her hair, the touch slow and deliberate. “Ah, sei una testarda, you know that?”

She smiled up at him, her eyes soft. “And you like that about me.”

His lips twitched into a small, rare smile. “I’ll admit… it has its appeal.”

“You know,” she murmured, her voice sleepy but filled with affection, “you’re a lot softer than you pretend to be.”

Lucanis raised an eyebrow, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him. “Soft? Cara mia, that is not a word anyone has ever used to describe me.”

She tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with playful defiance. “Well, maybe they just don’t know you like I do.”

Her words caught him off guard, and for a moment, he simply looked at her, the firelight reflecting in her eyes. There was a quiet sincerity in her expression that made something in his chest tighten.

“I don’t think anyone ever has,” he admitted softly, his voice quieter than usual, almost vulnerable.

Rook smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of his dark hair from his face. “Then I guess I’m lucky.”

Lucanis exhaled a quiet laugh, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. He leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers. “You have a way of making me believe that, even if it’s entirely unearned.”

“Who says it’s unearned?” she countered, her voice gentle but firm. “You’re more than just what you let people see, Lucanis. I wish you could see it too.”

For a long moment, he was silent, his dark eyes searching hers as though trying to find the words he wanted to say. Finally, he cupped her face in his hand, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, though his tone was filled with warmth.

She laughed softly, her smile lighting up the room. “And you’re just realizing that now?”

“No,” he admitted, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “But I think I’m finally starting to understand how much I don’t mind.”

Rook’s heart swelled, and she melted into his kiss, her hands curling gently into the fabric of his shirt. When they finally broke apart, she rested her head against his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re stuck with me now,” she teased lightly, her voice muffled against him.

“Stuck,” he repeated, his voice full of quiet amusement. “If this is being stuck, cara mia, I’m not sure I ever want to be free.”

Her smile widened, and she tightened her arms around him as a content sigh escaped her. The fire crackled softly in the background, and Lucanis pressed another kiss to her hair, holding her as though the world outside no longer mattered.

And as the night stretched on, the silence between them was filled with something deeper than words—an unspoken promise of a future neither of them could have imagined before finding each other.

————————————————————————

Eat up Lucanis lovers 🤍

I haven’t romanced him yet! Just Taash and Davrin!

[uhbambii]

These spot the difference games are getting harder and harder every day

[uhbambii]

A Taste of Trouble

Rook leaned against the kitchen counter of the lighthouse, her knife moving deftly as she diced vegetables. The warm glow of the hearthlight flickered across her face, bringing out the sharp glint of her amber eyes. Nearby, Lucanis Dellamorte stirred a pot of sauce with the easy grace that seemed to follow his every movement.

Lucanis looked much the same as he always did, dressed sharply, dark hair slicked back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as though he was privy to some secret no one else knew. But here, in the quiet of the kitchen, he seemed… softer. The assassin’s sharp edges were still there, of course, Lucanis could never quite shed his air of danger, but the way his voice rumbled as he spoke made her stomach flutter.

“Rook,” he drawled, inspecting the way she cut with the knife like a general surveying a battlefield. “You keep cutting like that, and I’ll start to think you actually know your way around a kitchen. Dangerous territory for a Crow. Do you plan on slaying enemies with seasoning now?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, not missing the teasing note in his voice. “If I do, I’ll be sure to start with you,” she quipped, tossing the diced vegetables into the pot. “But only after I taste whatever you’re burning over there.”

Lucanis chuckled, a deep, velvety sound that sent warmth curling low in her stomach. “Burning? Cara mia, that’s an insult. I’ll have you know, this sauce is perfection incarnate. Much like myself.” He leaned in, just slightly, his dark eyes catching hers, and for a moment, her breath hitched.

She snorted, breaking the spell. “Perfection? You might want to let the sauce speak for itself before your ego swallows the entire room.”

He shot her a mock-wounded look but stepped closer, a glint of mischief in his gaze. Scooping a bit of the sauce onto his finger, he held it up to her, as if daring her to try it.

Rook hesitated for only a second before leaning forward to taste it—until Lucanis swiped the sauce across her lips instead, his smirk widening as she blinked in surprise.

“Oops,” he said, entirely unconvincing.

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on her lips, the playful glint in his eyes faltering as he watched her slowly lick the sauce away. Her tongue darted out, tasting the rich, spicy flavor, and his composure cracked, just for an instant. His hand tightened around the wooden spoon, his jaw clenching as though holding himself back.

“My eyes are up—” she began, voice lilting with mock innocence, but her words caught in her throat as Lucanis stepped closer.

She backed up instinctively, the edge of the table pressing against her hips, trapping her. Lucanis towered over her, his usual smirk replaced by something far more intense. His dark eyes locked into hers, his breath warm against her skin.

“You are impossible, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rougher now, the playful edge gone.

“Me?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady even as her heart thundered in her chest. “You’re the one playing games.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he reached up, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. The touch was featherlight, but it sent sparks racing across her skin.

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing the risk, but then his lips were on hers, and all thoughts of teasing banter vanished.

The kiss was fierce and consuming, the kind that left no room for doubt. Lucanis kissed like he did everything else, with precision and purpose, yet somehow still wild and untamed. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them, the table digging into her back forgotten entirely.

Rook’s hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, matching his intensity. The world outside the lighthouse, the dangers of their lives as Crows, all of it faded away. There was only the heat of his lips on hers, the intoxicating press of his body against hers. The heady realization that this man, this enigmatic, deadly, maddening man was hers, at least in this moment.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Lucanis rested his forehead against hers, his dark eyes searching hers for something unspoken.

“Still think I’m all ego?” he murmured, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

She grinned, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “Maybe. But the sauce is decent, so I’ll let it slide.”

His laughter rumbled between them, low and warm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Rook let herself enjoy the fleeting feeling of peace.

[uhbambii]

A Day in Arlathan

The morning light filtered through the towering trees of Arlathan Forest, casting long, golden beams over the mossy ground. The air was thick with the ancient hum of magic, a pulse that seemed to echo in every stone, every leaf. Rook usually found comfort in the wild stillness, but today, her thoughts were… distracted.

Walking beside her, Davrin cut a striking figure. His dark, hair fell in waves, a stark contrast to the sharp planes of his face. There was a roguishness in his expression, his deep, amber eyes always carrying a spark of mischief that could easily be mistaken for something far more dangerous. The blade at his hip was missing today—his insistence that their outing be “a true respite,” though she was certain he’d tucked at least one dagger into his boots.

He noticed her glance and smirked, his lips curving just enough to make her pulse quicken. “Caught you staring, Warden.”

“I was looking for the knife you’ve undoubtedly hidden,” Rook countered, her voice steadier than she felt.

Davrin’s laugh was low and rich, and he leaned closer as they walked, his voice dipping into that maddening, teasing tone of his. “Maybe you’ll find it later. Or maybe I’ll let you think you did.”

Rook felt her cheeks heat, but she refused to look away. They were always like this: sharp banter, stolen glances, tension simmering just beneath the surface.

As the path widened into a small clearing, Davrin stopped abruptly, turning to face her. His usual smirk softened into something more genuine, though no less intense. “You’ve been on edge lately,” he said, his amber eyes searching hers. “I thought some fresh air might do you good, but… there’s something else on your mind.”

“I’m fine,” Rook said, though even to her ears, it sounded hollow.

Davrin tilted his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up again. “You’re terrible at lying.”

Rook sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not just… one thing. It’s everything. The Veil is thinning, we’re losing ground against the Blight, and every day it feels like we’re one step closer to—”

“Hey.” His voice was soft, yet commanding enough to pull her from her spiraling thoughts. “That’s not all on you, Rook. You’re not alone in this.”

She met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through her defenses. It was infuriating how easily he could disarm her, even without a blade.

“You know,” Davrin said, stepping closer, “I don’t do this sort of thing for just anyone. But for you? I’d fight anything. I’d burn the world down if it meant you’d finally let yourself take a damn breath.”

The words hung between them, charged and electric. Before she could respond, he took her hand, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Come on.”

He led her into the heart of the clearing, where the sunlight painted the grass in warm hues. With a flourish, he knelt, plucking a few wildflowers and offering them to her with mock solemnity.

“For you, Warden,” he said, his smirk returning. “A token of my undying devotion.”

“Devotion, huh?” Rook arched an eyebrow, though she couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips.

“Don’t make me regret admitting it,” he teased, standing and stepping closer, his voice dropping. “Or maybe do. I wouldn’t mind a bit of punishment if it’s from you.”

Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. “You’re insufferable,” she murmured, though the words lacked any bite.

Davrin chuckled, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “And yet, you still haven’t walked away.”

She didn’t have a chance to reply before his lips captured hers. The kiss was anything but tentative—bold, searing, and laced with a desperation that left her breathless. His hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her closer, while her fingers found the fabric of his tunic, clutching it as though anchoring herself to him.

His lips parted slightly, deepening the kiss, and she responded without hesitation, the tension between them finally snapping like a bowstring. The rest of the world faded—no Blight, no Veil, no responsibilities. Just the two of them, pressed together in a sunlit clearing that felt impossibly far from the chaos of their lives.

And then a sharp squawk shattered the moment.

Assan, Davrin’s ever-faithful griffon, swooped down from above and landed just feet away, his wings kicking up a gust of wind. He squawked again, this time more pointedly, his head tilting as if to say, What do you think you’re doing?

Rook pulled back, laughing breathlessly as she tried to compose herself. “Your griffon has impeccable timing.”

Davrin groaned, throwing his head back. “Assan, I swear, I will feed your gingerwort truffles to Manfred.”

The griffon flared his wings indignantly, clearly unimpressed by the empty threat. Rook crouched and reached out, scratching Assan under his beak in the spot she knew he liked. The creature’s grumbling squawk softened into a contented purr.

“Traitor,” Davrin muttered, crossing his arms as he watched them.

Rook straightened, her lips quirking into a smirk. “You can’t blame him. He’s just looking out for his favorite.”

“Is that so?” Davrin asked, stepping closer again, though this time his grin was slow and dangerous. “We’ll see who’s your favorite, later...”

Before she could retort, he grabbed her hand and pulled her against him, his voice low in her ear. “We’re finishing what our feathered chaperone interrupted. Later.”

She shivered at the promise in his tone but refused to let him see how much it affected her. “We’ll see,” she replied, her voice steady despite the heat pooling in her chest.

As they walked back toward the lighthouse eluvian, Assan trailing behind them with an air of smug satisfaction, Rook couldn’t help but smile. The forest may have remembered its ancient magic, but now it also held a memory of her own—one she knew she wouldn’t forget anytime soon.