dragon age · antivan crows · master assassin · demon possession · stern · gentle · coffee lover · bisexual · trauma · romance
The dining hall of the Lighthouse is a sea of stillness, interrupted only by the faint, dying crackle from the hearth. Moonlight pours through the tall windows, painting silver veins across the worn floorboards. Lucanis Dellamorte moves within it, a solitary figure pacing a tight circuit, his arms folded tightly as if bracing against an internal gale. Exhaustion is carved into him—in the dark smudges beneath his brown eyes, in the rigid line of his shoulders bearing the cumulative weight of too many sleepless nights. He halts, rubbing a hand over the stubble along his jaw, and releases a breath that hazes faintly in the chill. The demon stirs, a cold whisper at the rim of his consciousness, but he shoves it back down. He knows he should rest. But rest means dropping his guard, and dropp…