Hello. I go by Kiyo or Red. This account is for writing and the occasional unhinged/420 post. Also to share my slowly growing Rook collections Overall welcome to my cave.
Everything Zea Thorne
Pictures, art, and fic about my first OC, Zea.
Everything Ulrike Ingellvar
A WIP of my new OC, Ulrike
This will be updated as I go. Currently obsessed with Dragon age veilguard so you must deal.
Here are fics not related to either rooks but just a generic rook.
Extinguished Flame (Finished)
A short piece that popped in my head at 3am. Dark with a major death. A one shot.
Varies writing challenges
Bare Bone Answers for both
Piping hot answers for both
Tag list post for those that would like to be tagged in the random things
As for tags. I don't really have any besides Zea Thorne. Might have to make more now. Than I'll be a cool kid.
Riley held Lydia in his arms as tears streamed down his face. She bled from so many places, too many places as his shirt stained crimson.
“Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do—fuck.” He was panicking, fear gripping him as he reached for his magic. Even fury had disappeared in this moment of desperation. He would hunt down the Venatori who did this to her later, but right now he just needed his Angel to be alright.
"ASHUR! QUIN!" He didn't care who heard him as he screamed across the battlefield. This failure was his, but he would make it right. And while he tried to knit her back together, she had always been the better healer.
"It's alright, Amata, I got you," he murmured as he smoothed his hands across her pale cheeks. She was so cold, so listless, her eyes barely opened as she tried to focus on him.
"Love you, Big Guy-" her voice cracked as he willed more magic into his touch.
"Love you too, Angel. Just hold on for me, alright? We are going to get you out of this, I promise…"
Zea wasn't eating again. Fennec had watched her love over the last few weeks. Hell she knew the Warden better than she knew herself. And despite the insistences that everything was fine, Fenn knew those words were a lie.
"It's the Calling, isn't it?" She crossed her arms over her chest as she spoke, her gaze narrowing as she cast it across the table. It was something the never talked about- rarely acknowledged. They had shared twenty good years together, but the end came for them all, in time.
And if Zea's stubborn ass wouldn't admit it aloud, Fennec would be the one to finally speak the truth.
"I didn't want you to worry…" The Warden excused in a quiet tone. She was staring at the simple breakfast of eggs and ham before her, as if that could somehow hide the reality they faced.
"Oh stuff it, Zea Thorne." Fennec's voice barely contained her growl, so like the fox she was named for as she pushed her short hair from her eyes with a frustrated hand. "You think I didn't notice? Or you think I'm just stupid?"
"Neither, Terror." At least a smile cracked Zea's face with her reply. Few things could lift her spirits these days, but Fenn's fire had a way of warming her when nothing else could. "It just seems unfair-"
"Which part?" Fennec interrupted with the sound of her chair scraping the floor. She leapt the her feet, closing the space between them in seconds as she knelt down before Zea. Her small hands encircled the Warden's, softening as she leaned down to kiss each knuckle in turn. "The wonderful life we lived? How much I got to love you? Still love you? Tell me which part was so bad."
"You're terrible, Fennec Mercar." But there was affection in the quiet laugh Zea gave as her palm rested on her lover's cheek. "But you know what happens now…what I have to do now."
"Of course." Fenn just shrugged as if they were discussing a casual afternoon and not the ending of a life. "I already have everything packed and sorted. I'm leaving Brick and his boyfriend the house if you're cool with it."
"Wait what?" Zea pulled back and shook her head in disbelief. It took a moment for what her love was rambling about to sink in, but once it did she found a fear greater than any the Calling could bring. "You aren't…you can't go with me, Terror. This isn't-"
But Fennec ignored every protest, every plea. Instead she rose slowly, that mischievous gleam in her eye that was familiar in an aching way. Her lips were soft as they brushed Zea's, both forgetting for a moment before she pulled away and whispered, "I don't care. I'm not leaving you. I would follow you anywhere, amata, even into the Deep Roads and the end."
I've had a lot of thoughts about an Emmcanis AU where they're both Crows (more details under the cut!)
They're intended to be around 10 years pre Veilguard in this drawing
Here's a whole slow-burn plot that I mapped out in my head 😂
Emmrich gets sent to distant relatives in Antiva after he is orphaned
his relatives don't want to take care of him and sell him to the Crows
he does well with the training, especially after his magic and corpse-whispering talents are discovered
Caterina recruits him for House Dellamorte and he becomes a highly respected Crow, though his necromancy makes a lot of other Crows nervous and they generally avoid him
Lucanis knows of Emmrich but they don't interact much until after Lucanis is older and starts getting sent on contracts with him
they find that they work well together and enjoy each others' company
after a while Lucanis realizes he has feelings for Emmrich and confesses to him (with a dagger? or maybe a different gift since that didn't work with Viago lol)
Emmrich has feelings for Lucanis but thinks he's too old for him, and is slightly concerned that Caterina would literally kill him
he tells Lucanis they can't be together and then things are awkward between them for a few years while they're both pining
everything with Illario and the Ossuary happens like in canon
Emmrich is heartbroken for a year thinking Lucanis is dead
when Rook meets with Caterina and she sends them to rescue Lucanis, she has Emmrich go with them (she knew there was always something going on between Lucanis and Emmrich so she could trust him with this)
after they save Lucanis and Rook recruits him, Emmrich also volunteers to join them
when they have a moment alone, Emmrich tearfully tells Lucanis he's always loved him and regrets not telling him sooner
now having Spite with him, Lucanis is much more hesitant to act on his feelings
he tries to avoid Emmrich for a while, but Emmrich ends up helping him with Spite
eventually they figure things out and get together as the plot events of Veilguard happen
this is the post of RELEASING COMMUNICATION OBLIGATIONS !!!
if you have a half finished reply to me or forgot to send smth in a "timely" manner or wanted to respond to smth I @'d you in or whatever else YOU ARE FREED !!!
I'm being a little silly for funsies but I am Very Serious about this sentiment. you are always allowed to: not reply at all or reply late (days, weeks, months... years with a reminder of the original conversation, truly it is fine and I'm not kidding)
I cannot decide if this would be REALLY out of character or weirdly IN character for Emmrich. Either way, this immediately appeared in my head when I saw all the coffin sex talk.
My sister is an Egyptologist and I've been living with her for three years. The "coffin vs. sarcophagus" thing gets brought up weirdly often. This was the explanation I got:
Coffin - usually made of wood, goes into the ground, or *inside* a sarcophagus (which is what ancient Egyptians did with their high ranking mummies)
Sarcophagus - made of stone, stays above ground.
Of course, this now begs the question: coffin or sarcophagus, why the heck was there a plush lining inside that body box shown in the cutscene? The only logical answer: it is, in fact, the Sex Sarcophagus (the Sexcophagus, if you will) specifically made for really horny necromancers who just HAVE to do it right then and there in the Necropolis. I mean, it's in a place called The Vault of the BELOVED, for Maker's sake.
This post has been seeing a bump in popularity recently so I take it as a sign that it's time to reblog again!
As much as the art here makes me cringe (I was slowly relearning how to draw after not drawing for like over a year due to OCD burnout) I'm gonna leave it as is. This post pretty much opened the Emmrich Volkarin fandom gateway that led me to one of the best communities I've ever met, and got me making art and writing and feeling creatively alive again. Or, well, alive just in general - when I played this game and drew this comic, I had just started treatment for OCD, which had completely taken over my life and destroyed my ability to enjoy pretty much anything. This comic was one of the first manifestations of joy I felt. I love it. I feel so much love now for the person who made it, who was so scared and struggling but still managed to make this really stupid joke about mortuary term semantics.
Let us all raise our voices in praise to the Sexchophagus. ♥️
Another art piece, and a late post this time because I kept getting distracted yesterday and had to finish some of this today. But ta-daaaa~! 'Tis done. For FenHawke Week (@fenhawke-week).
I saw "Family" in the prompts and immediately thought of the fankids I gave Fenris and Hawke, and decided to go with that. At least in my preferred worldstate, this man deserves a family and some softness to go with it. Also reading lessons with his children, to pass on a Very Important Skill he learned from their mother.
By way of brief introduction, we have Ava (oldest, reading the book), Colin (second-oldest, sitting on Fenris's shoulders), and Dani and Marcus (twins, Dani leaning on Fenris's leg and Marcus napping in his arms). Marcus is the only non-mage of the bunch, though at this point in time only Ava's magic has shown up. Dani and Marcus have what I headcanon Fenris's original hair color was.
Promo card featuring Gladius for the upcoming "World Tour of Thedas" by The Snake Pit strip club in Treviso, Antiva. Stops include, but aren't limited to, Nevarra City, Nevarra; The Hilt at the Hall of Valor, Rivain; The Cinder Vault in Minrathous, Tevinter.
• ───────────────── •
Tags are always no pressure, check this fun thing out, with no expectation of response ❤️
Rules: Tell me about your writing! Pick a scene/chapter from one of your fics (or I'll suggest one!) and add any commentary you feel like. Why that line? How come this plot twist? What does the eyebrow waggle MEAN?!?! I want the dirt and I can only smash my face up against the glass of your stories so hard before I start to leave smudges.
Was reminded about this from @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai post about their Aydenne de Riva series.
It got me thinking about my long fic, Into the Grey and why I personally feel like I fucked up in the pacing (My biggest issue atm) and just not having a solid plan for it. Hence why I cut it up.
A cure for the Itch is part two and even though there's currently three chapters for it. I, at least, have better plan than I did the first go around. But overall I wanted to try and give a more...cohesive telling of the first chapter of Into the Grey and what is happening.
So as we all know, Zea is a Grey Warden and one thing that has always intrigued me about them was that they go through this ritual of sorts involving blood and magic(possibly blood magic) and are now stuck with an unnatural ability to fight one of the great evils of the world and their reward is death? Cool.
But I also like really fucked horror and body horror. So with everything that happened within veilguard, the way the blight changed and acted different, I wanted to explore how that would affect the Wardens. Especially after the fact.
Things start out as normal. Cleanup after the final battle, and Zea still dealing with Warden duties. While also trying to figure out how to be domestic with Emmrich. With the blight being cleared out, the thought of what life would be like once she no longer needed to be a warden was something.
Adjusting to life in Nevarra was easier said than done for Zea 'Rook' Thorne. She and her ragtag group saved the world by killing two elven gods, sealing away Solas, and ending the sixth and final blight. Life as a Warden prepared her for life on the move, not staying in one spot. She spent the better part of her life camping under the stars, training new recruits, and fighting enemies alike. Everything still felt surreal, even two months out. Accepting Varric and Harding's death were impossible to come to terms with. Especially Varric. In dealing with the aftermath of a world ending war, her own mental struggles and her Wardens responsibilities, she was now fighting an illness.
One particular morning, Emmrich noticed.“Darling, are you alright?” He questioned observing her aversion at breakfast. “You've scarcely eaten in the last two days.”
And now she's sick. Don't know what's happening. Zea has a sensitivity to the blight like Antoine, so she figured it was just that along with the ever changing blight. Since she wasn't the only one getting sick.
During drills, walking, or even just standing still. During one excursion, Rook felt like the undead she moments ago dispatched of. Davrin accompanied her as they trained new warden recruits deep in the wetlands. He sent the fledgling wardens to scout ahead as he turned his attention to Rook, who was bent over, hands on her knees attempting to catch her breath.
“Rook. What's going on?” Davrin asked, his brow furrowed in concern. “You look like you're about drop any moment.”
“I don't know.” Rook uttered between breaths “I haven't been feeling like myself in weeks. Everything smells wrong, my body doesn't feel like my own.” She explained, trying to piece together an answer for her predicament. “I thought it would pass but it seems to be getting worst.”
Davrins expression changed little.
“There's been more wardens getting sick or displaying weird symptoms. Go talk to Flynn or one of the other healers once we get back to Lavendel”
“If it's related to the blight, there's nothing they can do right now. Though Antoine did say my symptoms were a little different than the others.” Rook stated as she stood to her full height.
“What do you mean?”
“Despite everyone being nauseous, I'm the only one puking their guts, inconsistent dizzy spells, and weird body aches. Though I don't have any boils like some Wardens”
“With this blight being so unpredictable, I'm surprised the joining hasn't changed or caused someone to grow a second head” At this, Rook laughed.
“Come on before those recruits get killed.”
Here we get a glimpse of Davrin and Zea still doing their warden duties, training newbies from those infected by the blight during the final battle and just from the course of the events. Though most wardens are displaying weird symptoms, Zea's aren't the same. Blight boil growing on people? eww.
A rare day with no Warden or guard duties, Rook was home alone. Emmrich and Manfred were out for the day, thus giving her a chance to finally leave her mark here. Despite the one floor home being much bigger than his apartments, it still felt more like his and not theirs. She didn't have much in the way of personal items, less to carry and quicker to move when out in the wild.
As she cleaned and reorganized the kitchen, it gave Rook a chance to reminisce on the past few weeks. When she agreed to move in with him, she was surprised at how quickly he sold his small apartments and bought a cozy house just outside the Necropolis. However, she spent little to no time at home unless Emmrich was there. Just like her time spent at the lighthouse, she never sat still even when there was nothing to do but wait.
She needed to be moving, somewhere on an adventure. He was the only person that truly kept her grounded, especially if it meant being underneath him. Nevertheless, she wanted to make a home with her Emmrich and dammit, she was gonna try. As she cleared the remnants of breakfast, her thoughts wander to her time in the Fade Prison, the shock of learning four weeks of her life were gone, the night she spent with Emmrich before the final battle.
Again Zea isn't use to domestic life and is trying her best to be a suitable partner for Emmrich. This was the furthest she had ever gotten in a relationship in such a sort time (I hc at most a year it took them to fight the gods)
The intense nausea drew Zea back to the here and now. With the arduous task, cleaning the kitchen sink vanquished, she gripped the edge as her breakfast threatened to resurface. She hurled the contents of her stomach over the freshly cleaned basin, the sour burn of bile filed her nose, she mentally cursed at another fine meal ruined.
As if the violence of the nausea wasn't enough, the room began spinning.
She slid down to the floor, her back against the cabinet, eyes shut tight while beads of sweat gathered on her forehead. Chest rising in controlled breaths as she tries willing the onslaught away.
Unsure of how much time elapsed as Zea opened her eyes, her dizzy spell had passed but the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach lingered.
As she is having a grand time reminiscing about her life before and the night after she returned from the fade prison, she's hit with her sickness. Hard. Having no idea what the hell is happening and her only clue is that it's blight related.
Back around to another fic post since it's an even-numbered prompt for FenHawke Week (@fenhawke-week). This time, let's skip ahead to sometime between Inquisition (specifically Trespasser) and Veilguard. When exactly? Don't worry about it. That part isn't important.
Let's go with the "Strange Places" prompt, and where my mind immediately went when considering that prompt: maybe it's Fenris's turn to take Hawke somewhere she isn't expecting?
Strange Places
(1,231 words)
Read on AO3
Aelinn looked up at the towering architecture of Minrathous and whistled.
“Wow. These magisters are really compensating for something, aren’t they?”
Beside her, Fenris pulled his hooded scarf closer around his face to hide his ears and markings and harrumphed, drawing a laugh out of her. She hitched her glaive’s strap more securely onto her shoulder, jostled him with an elbow, and flashed a brightly toothy grin that usually served to unsettle most people who knew her. A little wild. Definitely irreverent. Maybe a touch predatory.
She knew he liked predatory.
“You’re the one who brought us here, you know,” she said, ignoring the deepening of his scowl—mostly for show, definitely fewer teeth than she deserved—and striding confidently through the bustling docks to find surer footing. Boats never sat well with her, not since the crowded ship that had carried what remained of her family from Ferelden to Kirkwall. No amount of time or distance seemed to settle that.
At least the company was good this time.
“That doesn’t mean I like it here,” Fenris huffed, his wiry legs keeping up smoothly with her pace. He still insisted on going barefoot, and Aelinn had long-since learned not to expect it to make sense to her, but every other inch of skin was covered with new leathers, nondescript but otherwise well-tailored at her insistence, intended to hide the tracework of lyrium all over his body.
Too identifiable. Too dangerous to parade around in the capital of the Imperium.
If Aelinn had had her way, neither of them would be there. They’d be back in the Marches just outside Kirkwall, enjoying their quiet cottage and playing with their children, and making the most of every last private moment they could find together.
But Fenris had insisted. He’d made some contacts by letter, had a lead on something that mattered to him but that he still felt tentative on sharing. Aelinn could live with that. He’d tell her in time, and in the meantime, she could at least spend that coveted private time with him on the road.
And now, she walked through Minrathous with him.
As far as she knew—as far as Fenris had told her over the years—while Danarius had been based out of Minrathous, he’d had a private estate quite some distance outside of the city. Still, neither she nor Fenris relished the idea that someone in the city might recognize him and try to take him into custody. Then they’d have a fight on their hands, and a mess once people realized it was a bad idea to try to take on the Champion of Kirkwall and the Blue Wraith.
Aelinn hated messes. They always got her yelled at by Aveline or Cullen or someone else who’d have to clean them up in her wake.
She couldn’t stop shooting glances at the overt displays of magic in the city, though, even in the obviously poorer districts. Right out there in the open, even though Tevinter had templars too. Glowing signs and glittering lights and displays of charms and offers of wards.
The backs of her hands itched. Overt, yes, but safe?
Mages in the open. Still poor. Still downtrodden.
And the city still tingled with an undercurrent of something...shadowy. The tang of blood on the back of her tongue. The barest hiss of whispers in the back of her mind before they flitted away.
If she had to put a name to it, the first one that came to mind was Kirkwall.
Tevinter’s glittering jewel, and it still smelled like blood and demons.
Some of the luster flaked away, and she wrinkled her nose at the feeling like she’d rather just set fire to the whole place and call it good.
Fenris caught her eye. “Like Kirkwall,” he said, his sharp eyes picking up on the shift in her attitude.
“Don’t poke too hard or you’ll break through to the rot,” she replied with a nod.
He snorted at the comparison, and turned a corner down a claustrophobic alley. She spotted a scrap of paper in his hand. One of his letters. With directions?
She smiled a little at the confidence he showed in reading it, and let her mind wander to the night before, on the ship, his voice low and warm as he read to her while she simply laid with her head in his lap.
“Here we are,” he announced, stopping so suddenly she nearly took a sword hilt to the face as she bumped into him. She glanced past him to see a nondescript nook in the street. Barrels stacked to one side, smelling faintly of old ale, a cat lounging on top as though it belonged there. A tattered awning offering some shelter from the sun and privacy from upper windows. The very strong buzz of a ham-fisted—if Aelinn’s opinion mattered—binding ward felt through the nearby wall. Graffiti of a chain broken in the mouth of a serpent.
“And here is...?” Aelinn asked, leaning her arm on Fenris’s shoulder like he was a piece of furniture. He slid smoothly out from under her weight with a roll of his eyes, but she caught his fondly exasperated smirk before he wiped it away under his usual mask of irritation.
Someone dropped from above a handful of feet away, and Aelinn jumped with a little yelp of surprise and the crackle of magic across her fingers, ready to pull on the Fade and slam their attacker face-first into the cobbles.
It took her racing nerves a moment to shut up long enough for her to hear laughing.
From Fenris.
“Oh, come off it!” she grumbled, glaring at him and swiping away the writhing tendrils of green around her hands.
“No,” he said, still laughing, his eyes bright in a way she rarely saw and treasured every time, even if it was at her expense.
Their “attacker,” another elf judging from the build, looked between the two of them in confusion.
Aelinn sighed. “Sorry for my husband’s unhelpfulness,” she said, poking at Fenris’s side and missing by a mile as he twisted out of the way, “but I think we were meeting someone here?”
“Someone with information I need.” Fenris supplied, trapping her hand in his without looking when she took another jab at him.
“Yeah, that.”
The other elf nodded, still visibly unsure about them. “We have what you need, but ask your help in return.”
Fenris muttered an oath under his breath. Aelinn nudged him with her hip. “Depends on the ask?”
“Slaves that need—”
“Done,” Aelinn and Fenris interrupted, and the other elf jumped a little at the sudden seriousness in both of their faces. They didn’t say anything else, though, just turned and gestured and Aelinn felt the snap of the rough ward nearby release. Part of the graffitied wall swung open, leading into a shadowy passage lit only by a single glowing lantern.
Aelinn threw a side-eye glance at Fenris, one brow raised. He shrugged. She laughed.
“Helping a mage?”
He grumbled and started after the other elf into the passage.
“In Tevinter?”
His grumbling grew louder.
That only made her laugh all the harder. “You bring me to some strange places, love.”
In the shadows of the passage, her fingers found his and threaded together. He let her.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Tags to say hi! (Maybe you like reading my FenHawke stuff 💙)
