I'm a fanfic author who loves video games and unreasonable goblin women. As an Elder, I have not been internet savvy since Neopets, so I'm doing my best not to struggle too much here.
My Ao3 Dashboard
Writing Brain Rot You Might Find in this Place:
Valkyr "Rook" de Riva x Lucanis Dellamorte (Dragon Age: The Veilguard)
Rylla Lavellan x Cullen Rutherford (Dragon Age: Inquisition)
Inixi (Tav) x Gale Dekarios (Baldur's Gate 3)
Beryl (Godwoken) x Ifan ben-Mezd (Divinity: Original Sin 2)
2026
Rookanis Week
2025
Rookfest
Lucanis Week
Dragon Age Kiss Week
Valkyr de Riva (general tag)
Valkyr's full story (Ao3 Link)
Appearance References
Rook Introduction | Character sheet | Relationship chart | OC Rating | Valkanis Ship Sheet
There's a fanfic you love so much you'd like to have a physical copy of it? But you don't know how to make it? You've come to the right place! I'm a teacher and I've done this with my pupils (11 year olds), so you can do it, too!
To preface this, obviously this is only one of many methods to bind a book, and it's not perfect, but it's easy enough for my pupils to do it, so I thought I'd share how I do it, to hopefully help people who want to bind fanfics but have never done it before! :)Â
Here are some examples of what my books look like when done: Â
 Part 1: Preparations on the PC and printing Â
 To start off, a book is made up of several signatures, which is just a bunch of pages folded in the middle. I've found the best signatures for this method are made of four A4 (or letter format) sheets of paper, folded, so it makes 16 pages in total. But signatures of 5 or 6 sheets work well too! Â
That means you need to prepare your pdf to have a page count that is dividable by 16 (4 sheet signatures), 20 (5 sheet signatures) or 24 (6 sheet signatures). I usually just add blank pages to the front and back of the book until I reach a usable page count. Also check that your chapters start at the page you want (odd pages are on the right, even ones are on the left). Â
 If that is done, you can get to printing. I print signature per signature, and use Adobe Acrobat for that. Apparently, the free trial version can do this too, so no need to pay for it if you don't have it! Â
 The fanfic I'm printing has 320 pages, so I'm gonna print 20 signature made of 4 sheets (16 pages). I write down which pages make the signature so I can them just type them in:Â
Signature 1 consists of pages 1 - 16Â
Signature 2: 17 - 32Â
Signature 3: 33 - 48Â
Signature 4: 49 - 64Â
...Â
Signature 20: 305 - 320 Â
 Now, printing works like this:Â
In Adobe Acrobat, open your pdf and click on print. In the printing options, you first chose the "Booklet" option and then type in the pages for the signature you want to print (e.g. 1-16). Hit print and you'll have your first signature, which you can then fold in the middle! Repeat this step for all the signatures until you've printed the whole book. Done! Â
(This is just a screenshot from the web, so the numbers don't match, but my Adobe Acrobat is completely in German, so it would probably be even less helpful!)
 About the paper: I use normal printing paper in a bit of a yellowish colour (looks better than the sharp white of normal paper). Printing paper has, however, the wrong paper grain, so if you have access to paper with grain in the other direction, take that instead! The results with printing paper are okayish, with maybe a few wrinkles, but nothing too bad (in my opinion, haha).Â
If you've got any questions or need clarification an anything, feel free to ask!
This is how Lucanis looks at Rook at the end of that cutscene, btw. To be fair, all the companions seem to have the same animation here, so they're all just so taken with Rook in this precious moment. However, in my completely unbiased opinion, based on facts and logic and almost two years of scientific research and observation, Lucanis is the most beautiful here (to me).
You actually cannot skip to being good at a creative endeavour that you haven't put much practice into. You cannot trick your way out of the 'knows that your work is not what you want it to be but don't know how to improve it' stage by planning or reading or talking about it really really hard. At some point you just have to craft through it until your brain finds it's own unique way back to the 'everything I make slaps' stage and be prepared to start the cycle all over again. You just have to make that project you're excited about slightly less good than you want it to be. (Says this standing in a pool of blood and covered in blood and also coughing up a little blood)
Dawes Mercar on the infamous Nessus job. Thank you for hosting, @shadow-dragon-week!
At some point I'll write this all out in a fic. Had a great time with the perspective on this - it was a good challenge. Wanted to really tell a story.
you are the hero of ferelden. no matter your origin you watch those you love most be ripped from you. death becomes an endless cycle which seems to follow you wherever you go. the fate of the world rests on your shoulders as you know you can never return home. home is gone now. home is buried with your family, jailed with your closest ally, cradled by the ancestors, forgotten like your beloved, lost to time in the murky glass of the eluvian- dead in your arms, killed at your hand. you are the hero of ferelden and it is your destiny to die. when next the world falls apart, you do not come. this world does not deserve your pity.
you are the champion of kirkwall. you are a refugee, cold and hungry and sold into labour. your mother hates you, though she will never say it. it's your fault the ogre killed your sibling, your fault the taint took the other. but you are happy. you have everything, friends and family and status and riches. you defeat the people plaguing your glorious city, you are the people's hero. you will always know even as she came back, isabela left you to die. you are happy but you are alone. you have everything and then you are rocking back and forth begging please please please do not take my mother as well. you have nothing, but for a single second, you had everything. you are the champion of kirkwall, and your ally has blown up the chantry. where is your home now that everything is your fault?
you are the herald of andraste. and you are so, so scared. these people do not trust you, do not like you, would feed you to the fade if they could. they do not care if you follow another religion, you are their herald. you can never return home because heroes do not have homes. they say home is the people you choose, but you didn't choose these people, did you? every step you take aches. thousands reach out to touch you, for safety. for comfort. you are a black hole close to destruction, and you cannot do this. you are the herald of andraste and you have not been yourself for so long now.
Remember to tag your creations with the #dakiss26 tag! I aim to reblog everybody who participates and I will set up a queue to that effect. It would be awesome if you joined me on this! If you donât want your work to be reblogged here, please say so in the tags!
[Image ID: An image of the quest journal in Dragon Age The Veilguard, with a header that reads: Dragon Age Kiss Week Prompts. Under it there's a column of prompts that reads: Day 1 - Camp, Day 2 - Injury, Day 3 - Courtyard, Day 4 - Exploration, Day 5 - Beach, Day 6 - Mourning, Day 7 - Sneaky. Under the prompts, the event's tag #dakiss26 /.End ID]
Outfit emoji ask: Valkyr and Dora đ in my life please
Dora and Valkyr in 90's outfits - they absolutely rock them!! Get in the car losers - we're going shopping! đ
Valkyr would slay in layers + mini skirts + thigh high boots tbh and Dora likes those terribly colourful athleisure fits like the jock she is... Now I kinda want to see Lucanis and Viago in 90's outfits HAHA
Summary: After failing to kill Ghilanânain, Rook and Lucanis disagree about who Lucanis is meant to be.
Notes: I am returning home after traveling overseas today and tomorrow but Iâm determined to keep up with Lucanis week. Please forgive any errors or weirdness â€ïž
Available on Ao3
The uncomfortable waves of the very public argument Lucanis had just taken part in followed his angry retreat into the pantry. Even hidden away, though, he couldnât be still; he paced the limited length of his claimed room, agitated. Davrinâs accusations were a clanging bell in his head: He failed, he wasnât fit to do the job, he was under the demonâs control, heâ
Lucanis growled. He didnât need the elven man to tell him any of this; he already knew his failures. He had missed the one opportunity to kill Ghilanânain â maybe the only one they would ever have. And he could see it all in his head: each moment captured in perfect clarity so that he could judge every wrong move he had made. He had put too much weight on the back foot, his dagger hadnât been angled correctly, the wings had come out too soon and slowed the momentum. The list was an endless checklist of all they had done wrong, wrong, wrong.
Spite snarled, just as agitated as the man he inhabited. âNot! My fault!â
Lucanis turned, though the demon had not manifested a form for him to focus on. âWas he right?â His voice cracked bitterly, âAre you protecting them?â He had denied Davrinâs accusation at the table, but here, now, he questioned.
Spite let out a low grumble like a dragon about to breathe flame. It was not a no. âAnswer me!â
âWouldnât,â Spite snapped in turn.
âWhy should I believe that?â
âWouldnât. To Rook.â
Right. Because that was what he needed right now: a reminder of Spiteâs strange infatuation with their contract holder. A reminder that this focus might be a reflection of his own feelings, no matter how he tried to repress them.
Perhaps that was another reason he had failed so miserably. He had allowed himself too many distractions, too much comfort. He was losing his edge and nowâ
A knock sounded at the door, interrupting what surely would have looked like a madman fighting with himself to an outside perspective. Lucanis flinched at the sound before asking in a biting tone, âWhat?â
âHey, itâs me. Can I come in?â
And now she was here. Naturally.
Lucanis pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes where a headache was brewing. âIâyes. I suppose.â
He could have said no, of course, but, truthfully, he wanted to hear what she would say. A part of him was hoping Rook would be angryâ that she would yell or berate him, perhaps even threaten his contract. Maybe, just maybe, if he saw the bitter disappointment in her face, he could finally put aside the lingering thoughts of her once and for all.
He turned as she entered and immediately knew she was not here to make it so easy on him. Instead, she had a lopsided smile as she strolled in and closed the door behind her. âNice to know thereâs room for two. I wasnât sure if this was a solo brooding situationâŠâ
âWhat do you need, Rook?â
Her lips twisted to the side as she realized Lucanis was not in the mood to play along. âI just wanted to check on you. Make sure youâre, you knowâŠalright. Relatively.â
Why did she care? It was a question he had asked himself a million times over; every opportunity Rook had to be tough, she instead approached with a sort of openness that Lucanis didnâtâcouldnâtâunderstand.
He grit his teeth. âI failed, Rook.â
âI mean, itâs not like it was a resounding success outside of thatââ
âI failed,â Lucanis repeated, âwe had one shot and I missed. That should never have happened.â
She infuriatingly shrugged one shoulder. âThen we make our own second chance. Somehow. Itâs alright, Lucanis.â
He let out a disbelieving huff. âRook, I am not supposed to miss.â
âHonestly, Lucanis, Iâm just glad you made it back. That youâre alright.â She glanced away awkwardly, âBetter to have you alive than Ghilanânain dead.â
Lucanis heard his teeth crack as his jaw tightened. âYou canât think like that.â
âWhat? Whyâ?â
âBecause I am a weapon, Rook. Thatâs all I am. And when a weapon breaks, you donât waste your breath reassuring it. You throw it out.â
She was looking at him now, violet eyes wide, breath shallow in her chest. Lucanis forced himself to keep looking at her. âThatâsâ thatâs not true.â Rook swallowed, âYouâre not a weapon, youâre a personââ
âNo. Iâm not.â Lucanis could feel Spite rising in his gullet. âIâm not.â
Rook frowned as an indent formed between her brows. âWellâ I donât agree. Youâre more than that.â Before Lucanis could breathe she added, âYouâre more than that to me.â
Gods, what was he supposed to do with those words? What did they even mean? He could feel their threatening warmth from here and knew that no, no, he had allowed too much already.
His own voice sounded distant as he heard himself say, âMaybe it would be better for everyone if you just accepted what I am.â
His words left an electric snap in the air, so visceral that even Spite retreated down and in. There was no distraction from watching Rookâs reaction. For a moment, she looked hurt, and Lucanis felt the distinct rush of the floor dropping out beneath his feet. Then, her violet eyes caught fire.
âSeriously?â The single questioning word made Lucanis flinch. âYouâre going to say that to me afterââ
Rook didnât finish the thought, but she didnât need to. Lucanis could finish it for her: after what they had been through, after getting to know her, after the tender spark of flirtation they had both skirted around and never addressed. He looked away as the unfinished thought hung between them, a hot dread creeping under his collar.
Rook growled to herself, and Lucanis saw her throw her hands up from the corner of his eye. âFine. You know what? Fuckingâ fine.â And she turned for the door.
The regret was immediate. âRookââ she didnât pause, simply throwing the door open as he repeated, âRook!â
The door slamming closed was his response. For a moment, Lucanis could only stand in place, unsure of exactly what had just happened.
Spite grumbled low in his chest, âHe is a weapon. Can only cut. Can only destroy.â
Lucanisâs anger and frustration were slowly shifting into a sort of horror. He shouldnât have spoken to her like that. Why had he done that?
Was he even capable of existing without sabotaging himself?
âBroken. Broke Rook. Only Rook we had.â
Normally, he didnât like to listen to Spite. But the demon wasnât wrong this once. Lucanis took in a deep breath, releasing it shakily. âIâllâŠmake it up to her.â
âLiar. Weapon.â
Apparently heâd be doing it alone.
âââââââââââââ-
Lucanis wasnât sure how long he stood unmoving outside Rookâs door. At least long enough that he started to memorize the pattern of the wood grain, spotting familiar shapes in the random strokes.
âWaste. Time.â Spite informed him sullenly. Lucanis ignored him, trying to rally his courage before the coffee he was holding went cold.
He had lifted his fist, poised above the door to knock, when it suddenly flew open.
Rook almost barreled into him, clearly not expecting the company. She made a humorous âackâ sound as she realized he was there before stumbling back, her red hair a tornado of curls around her. For a moment, neither said anything; they just stared at each other on either side of the doorway.
An internal kick from Spite spurred Lucanis to blurt, âIâŠI didnât mean to startle you.â
Rookâs eyes flickered over him, contemplative. Her cheeks were still flushed, but the angry fire in her eyes had cooled, if not vanished completely. âRightâŠItâs fine.â
Another awkward silence descended before Lucanis had the sense to hold out the mug in his hand. âIâŠI made you coffee,â he explained even though that was clearly what he was offering. âAâŠpeace offering.â Rook looked at the mug curiously as he rushed to finish, âIâm sorry, Rook.â
Her eyes jumped back to his face, then to the coffee, then back. Slowly, she shifted, leaning her hip against her open door. âWhatâŠare you apologizing for?â
It was a question marked with wariness. Because he could apologize for speaking harshly, or fall back to apologizing for his failures. But the meditative experience of making coffee had grounded Lucanis, reminded him of what he valued in Rook. Of the many things he valued in her.
With a steadying breath, he confessed, âIâm sorry for acting as though there is a problem with how you view me. How you treat me. If Iâm honestâŠâ he swallowed, âit is easier for me to be used by people. Itâs easier thanâŠhaving a friend. And I respondedâŠlike an ass.â
Rook was trying to keep her face neutral, but Lucanis could see a smile pulling one corner of her lips and felt a flood of relief.
âYou were an ass.â
He shrugged sheepishly, âI canât promise it wonât happen again. But if you can stomach my apologiesâŠIâll try to do better.â
Finally, she lost the fight with her expression and grinned. Lucanis smiled back, in spite of himself, in spite of the situation, in spite of everything.
Coquettishly, Rook tilted her head and plucked away the mug he had brought. âSoâŠyou made me coffee?â
âSĂ,â he fidgeted his now empty hands together. âThe same kind from Cafe Pietra.â
âThe kind I liked?â
Lucanis nodded; he had to look away from the full force of her smile. It was like trying to look directly into the sun.
âThank you.â
He nodded again, suddenly overwhelmed by his own awkwardness. Clearing his throat, he said, âYes, wellâŠgoodnight, Rook.â
âGoodnight, Lucanis.â
She had said his name a hundred times, but this one sent a distinct shiver down his spine. Before he could reveal that, or say anything else stupid, he turned to retreat down the hall.
Spite mused as they descended the stairs, âRookâŠgood.â
