cryinthevortex

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Original Princess Leia. Love.

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I went ahead and started another Rook/Lucanis fic because AU-inspiration hit me in the face like a limp dick. Poetically speaking, of course.

Cue confetti. Enter Orlesian Bard Rook: charming, slippery, and ready to take any bottom-wheel dialogue options BioWare refused to give us. Renegade interrupts? Also yes.

Song of the Knives

Fandoms: Dragon Age: Veilguard, Origins, Inquisition, Dragon Age (all media) Pairing: Male Rook / Lucanis Rating: Explicit. There will be blue balls. Tropes: Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers, (The rest redacted by Leliana)

Summary: Rook is a bard by trade and a liar by instinct, and he moves between countries, masks, and names with ease. Then a target places him in the path of Master Assassin Lucanis Dellamorte—a man who sees too much, speaks too little, and refuses to lose. Their collision sparks a game of cat and mouse, where none of Rook’s performances land quite right. A collision neither of them planned. Or knew they wanted. If he wants to survive, he may have to risk something unpracticed: being himself. Disgusted noise

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AO3 trickery for Love, In Spite of.

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canon: they died

fanfic: fUCK YOU

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Rook

My Rook. The Story continues when I put the pencil down.

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Knife a day, keeps writing away

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I will be the death of you

Well, that's few hours again spent staring into a beard. No regrets. Obviously.

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@maukree

Puddle-Bucky. Unshielded version for comfort and convenience.

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Romance

One will forfeit night's sleep to create.

Rook

Caterina looks at Lucanis. 

“Talks too much, mediocre in looks but smart. You could have done worse, Lucanis.”

She gets up and points at Rook. “You may walk me home.”

“Sorry, my heart belongs to your grandson. Your sultry ways do not work on me,” Rook blurts out.

Caterina stares at him in disbelief, then adds, “And no self-preservation.”

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Échame la Culpa

Stretching drawing muscles. Based on these guys

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If Lucanis couldn't be with Rook (for whatever reasons), but had to be with someone (yup), who would that be? :)

When I first started playing answer was Davrin.

Now, few months later after bleeding on the proverbial paper for hundreds of hours writing shit about my Rooks and him, I have a one answer:

Yeah, NOBODY ELSE!

To clarify, you can have your Rooks and your Lucanis, but for my iteration Rook is his only carousel horse, and the music doesn't stop playing. I'm a whore for 'one true love'- thought, rather than this "here is a backup true love"- Veilguard companion romance shit.

I'm a happy ending-sucker—real life is grim enough.

Now bugger off, my love! I'll ask for your apology later with honeyed words.

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Despacito

The Boys stay flexible

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Chapter 19. of Love, in Spite Of

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64172275/chapters/166069279

I have successfully promoted my fic on chapters one and this nineteen is for AO3 image instead, and nothing in between. But Rook did Lucanis, so that's fucking cute. Makes authors neglectful when they have to write down stuff while fanning themselves.

I don't do tags either. Nope.

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Last sentence game!

I was tagged by @anotherdayforchaosfay

“How was it for you?” Isabela asks. “Delicious, wasn’t it?”

I tag @pixiedurango

I was tagged by @im-on-fire-today for the last sentence meme

Madrigal's Muse, a light wine that some philistines compared to Vint-9 Rowan's Rose but it was Lucanis' opinion that most, if not all Tevinter wines were trash and not fit to grace Mara's lips.

I tag @raven-6-10 and @anotherdayforchaosfay

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Love, In Spite Of - Chapter 1

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64172275/chapters/164676721

Someone slams into him as they walk along the road. “My apologies,” a man’s voice says. A trickle of water from a fountain snaps his attention away from whoever it was he bumped into. Lucanis needs to fill up his waterskin, so he walks away briskly. “Levity,” Spite says. Lucanis ignores him.

In times of peace, things can get very boring. Luckily for the Antivan Crows, there is always something to do. In this particular case, it means travelling to Rivain on a contract for a target Lucanis and Illario know nothing about. Not the most inconvenient place to go, since Lucanis could use help with an increasingly demanding Spite, and Rivain is teeming with seers.

Chapters: 1/25 Rating: Explicit Words: 2423  

Incoming Lore Divergence:

Let’s all assume the Inquisitor got through to Solas at the end of Trespasser in DA: Inquisition and agreed that pulling down the Veil was perhaps not the best idea, so he mended it instead, making Veilguard redundant. Sadly (or, for the purposes of this fic, to my delight), it means that Rook and Lucanis never met.

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Favorite Sentence Wednesday Saturday Thursday Today

Lovely @pixiedurango tagged me to this game.

What's this? Another questionnaire. I want to do this before Rook gets home.

"Yes! Let's!"

In the Shadow of Demon's Wings

"Despite all this privilege, he was currently on his proverbial knees, feeling helpless, trying to be worthy not of a title, but of a woman instead"

Not my finest moment.

"Do you have many of. those?"

The Birds with Black Feathers

We were climbing the Treviso bell tower.

"There was a moment of peace; the world was quiet, warm and nothing momentarily troubled him as the darkness enveloped them, pierced only by a shimmer of the white, hopeful moon."

"So pretentious, Lucanis."

Do you really wish to play this, Spite?

"Not if you choose things. like this."

You know I will keep selecting these types of sentences just to see you go away. You're giving me a headache.

From the First time to Forever

Rook got us a lubricant from Emmrich.

“From Emmrich actually,” Rook replied. “Probably not embalming fluid, then again, I couldn’t get any stiffer than this.” 

"Now, See Lucanis. This is funny. Rook is funny."

Seven Days of Satinalia. Chapter 1.

This one? I was made a Town Fool by Caterina and crowned Antiva's ruler for the day.

“I promise to dishonor Antiva’s customs and laws with my very presence and make a mockery of everything the kingship stands for.“ 

Spite. Stop laughing.

"It was funny."

Only afterwards.

"Also during. Just ask Rook."

He laughs at most things.

Two Knives and The Darkness of the Night

“Lucanis got to play with his two favourite things in the world: her and his knives."

"Lucanis?"

We...had ... fun with knives.

Excuse me.

"You come back?"

There. Onwards.

The First Talon

"Coranto is a friendly dance- unless the duplicitous love of your life dances with your traitorous brother."

A lovers' spat.

"You were tied up. that evening. with stockings."

It was a fine ending to a mostly disastrous event.

The Autumn Roses of Villa Dellamorte

And Lucanis—one more victim in a long line of them—taking the blows, yielding, accepting them, until he too would become the one holding the cane

"Lucanis is gone. I continue."

Illario's Gambit

"He hardly knew how to be an adult, considering that he had the concentration, temperament, and emotional self-regulation abilities of a very nasty toddler. "

"That is why he is funny. Makes it sound. like a bad thing."

A Warden and A Crow Walk into a Memory Wipe

"Lucanis was dosed with. Sex-Pollen. Rook smelled aroused, but panicking."

"Lucanis may have inhaled it—or lobotomized himself by losing every single inhibition— and I think he had more of those than a fucking Chantry Sister to begin with!"

Ok, Spite. Well, not a bad choice. A mildly embarrassing moment, but not entirely unfunny.

Not a fucking Chance you Sleep there

Rook may have been under the impression, that I disliked him.

"Would he go for a thought-free, I know you dislike me, but stop thinking about that and just fuck me, okay? -kind of thing? "

He concluded correctly.

Stop Playing with your Food, Rook

“Such a romantic,” Rook coos. “Particularly with that romantic Fereldan accent that makes you insert expletives in the middle of your prose.”

I used an expletive when I was in Rook's body—as a part of a magical body-swap spell gone awry.

"Nothing new. You also use expletives. when in his body. No magic needed"

Spite. Come on.

High Culture, Low Expectations.

Caterina opened the door to the Villa. I was surprised.

 For someone who prepared for most eventualities while shaping his beard in the morning, it was almost unpleasant to have missed this possibility.

"Boring! More Rook. Less you."

Go play with the cat.

"No."

In the absence of Rook

"It was a bittersweet consolation, having lost someone to complete your contract; it had removed the enemy Queen from the chessboard, but he had lost a Rook in exchange. 

A prosaic moment. Hard times.

Shut up, Spite.

You're So Fucking Unprofessional, Lucanis

“I’ve never received a love confession in the heat of the moment from a man on the brink of madness, meant for a man.”

Rook professed his love for me, to a prostitute. I received this knowledge eventually, so it worked out fine.

Mierda. Rook is home. Perhaps its good, so many to choose from.

"Can I send this?"

Go ahead, Spite.

"Do I want to know what you're doing?"

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Reflection R(t)uesday

The game:

Post an excerpt of one of your WIP's.

Maybe add some new words, even.

Brush it up.

Fall in love with it all over again, maybe.

Share it. Be proud of it. Use the tag #reflection rtuesday also tag a few of your fellow artists, you'd be curious to see what they may have stored away in their wip folders.

The breakfast is on the table. Eleanor and Bellara have been busy. Lucanis joins them shortly to cook the wedding meal.

“So, it’s pissing down outside,” says Rook. Lucanis’ eyes flick behind him. He doesn’t have to turn around to realize Caterina is sitting behind him. Well done reinforcing her opinion that he’s a brute and not worthy of her grandson.

“It is,” she agrees, after letting him hang for a moment. “Alternative arrangements are needed.”

Lucanis’ face shifts from frozen to relieved. He’s getting more expressive, Rook notes.

Caterina gestures for Rook to sit beside her at the table.

“Careful what you’re digesting,” Illario mumbles to Rook through his fist. Caterina glares at him.

Rook grimaces at the implication of dying from poisoned food before the wedding but decides to go to his grave as he has lived: dick first, brain trailing far behind.

Caterina startles everyone by initiating small talk.

“Lucanis and Rook, any pre-wedding jitters?”

Here we go with jittering again, Rook thinks, but instead of letting his mind wander in that direction, he replies, “None.”

“No,” Lucanis says plainly and briefly takes Rook’s hand.

Caterina grunts, somewhere between impressed and pleased, and continues eating her scone. Her cane slips, and Rook reaches out to pick it up, handing it to her with gentlemanly flair.

“There, my Lady.”

Caterina nods in acknowledgment and resumes eating.

Illario raises his eyebrows at Lucanis questioningly, who simply shrugs. Rook remains non-committal.

“So, the gazebo is drowned,” Taash announces as they and Davrin come in through the back door. “We moved the benches away from the rain, but that one is fucked.”

They pause, noticing Caterina at the table. The realization that they’ve just reinforced a class divide sinks in. A brief worry crosses their mind, but Caterina shifts in her seat and asks,

“And what solution do we have for this lack of venue?”

Taash relaxes. “We had one, but does anyone else have an idea first?”

“Drag Rook into the Chantry, and it’ll burst into flames from sheer blasphemy,” Lucanis says.

Rook kisses Lucanis’ hand and nods in agreement, thoroughly impressed by his unexpected joke.

“It’s Satinalia, so not many places are available,” Caterina muses, leaning on her cane. She is surprisingly involved in the process for someone who tried to kill one of the grooms three days ago, but Rook can roll with it. No doubt, she’s still thinking about it.

“Listen, that’s really the conclusion. The city is celebrating; there’s nothing out there,” Rook says, pointing outside. “And the weather will just drive all the parties indoors.”

“What did you have in mind, Taash?” Lucanis asks.

“How about the Lighthouse?” Taash offers.

Lucanis’ eyes glow purple, and his face twists into Spite’s grin.

“Raw Fade? Yes! I am the best man, cousin!” Spite says enthusiastically.

Illario muses, “Technically, Your Hideousness, you’re a groom too.”

“No! Best man!” Spite roars.

Caterina shakes her head and rubs her temples. For all her newfound tolerance and participation, Lucanis being possessed still doesn’t sit right with her.

“Fine. For the sake of entertainment,” Illario concedes.

“For chaos!” Rook toasts with his coffee. Spite takes a sip of his.