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And it turns out they both had Idontwannabeabother-itus

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Idk how much tumblr will let me get away with so here is a cropped version 🫣 a little intimate moment between Emm and Mills ♡♡

Bluesky link of the full image!

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youve died a thousand times before who caaares just climb out of this grave again & again &agaian & agaian & again & again & aga

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imagining your otp doing the forehead touch is literally the most important thing in the whole world. everybody take a second and stop scrolling and imagine your otp doing the forehead touch. okay. you can move on now.

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“ok lets do warm up sketch”

“oh..”

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Tavern

DA Kiss Week, Day 2!)))

Rook: People often mistake me and Elek for lovers. Have no idea why is that!

Also Rook every time celebrating with Threads in suspicious port tavern:

Neve: Right, me neither.

I adore Elek))) And it’s Tevinter Days timeline, so Rook’s hair is shorter)

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Dragon Age Kiss Week 2025 is officially over!

I hope you all had a blast! Thank you so much for adding your passion and creativity to this event, I am proud of you all and humbled by the sheer amount of participants and entries... and it's just our first year!

But don't leave just yet - there are about 500 entries queued up right now, and I will keep checking the tags until the end of the week to pick up stragglers, so there's a few days of your works to look forward to!

I'd like to give a shoutout to @himluv for their enthusiasm and for creating the AO3 collection for this event - you've made this week even more enjoyable for me, thank you so much!

As a side note - if you're creating a Dragon Age event (ie a zine, an appreciation week, etc) please feel free to reach out to me, I will be happy to signal boost your projects and spread the word. As a fandom, it is up to us to keep Dragon Age alive - I made this blog spurred by Sheryl Chee's words.

DA is ours now, so keep drawing, keep writing, keep engaging in creative projects about it, share people's works to keep the community alive and...

See you August 2026! ;) ♥

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commission for @amys2885—inquisitor Quail & Cass enjoying an evening by the fireplace 🧡

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hey gang how would we feel about emmrich in one of these bad boys

yknow since it's summer. no other reason.

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flesh to flower, your hand in mine

(Read on AO3)

For @dragonagekissweek 2025 Day 7 prompt — Celebration.

Connected to Day 6's prompt fill, but both are standalone :)

Gen. 1,016 words

Summary:

Wisps like stars dotted the ceiling of one of the private chapels in the Necropolis, dancing on an unseen wind, chittering with excitement— as if the spirits themselves were pleased by the occasion. Some flitted between the pews and the guests, the aisle awash with flowers. Bursts of color — lilacs and orchids, anemones and camellias, and, of course, blooms of Shroud's Kiss, and one buttoned to Emmrich's coat.

Today he married the love of his life.

—

Or, Emmrich and Rook's wedding day.

Work also below the cut, if you would prefer to read on Tumblr.

Wisps like stars dotted the ceiling of one of the private chapels in the Necropolis, dancing on an unseen wind, chittering with excitement— as if the spirits themselves were pleased by the occasion. Some flitted between the pews and the guests, the aisle awash with flowers. Bursts of color — lilacs and orchids, anemones and camellias, and, of course, blooms of Shroud's Kiss, and one buttoned to Emmrich's coat.

Today he married the love of his life.

Despite spending the night together in his suite, he and Rook had once more been separated in the morning — even Vorgoth had insisted on that, the anticipation sacred to all this ceremony. If Emmrich were to do this once, he should do it right. Who was he to argue with that?

So that was what they did, split into two once more until they could fall together again. This time, for the rest of their lives.

Beside him, Davrin smirked. “You’re looking nervous, Emmrich.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffed, before he sighing, cheeks faintly flushed from the embarrassment at being caught. “Alright. Perhaps just a smidge.”

“Thinking Rook's going to run off on you?”

“I doubt it.”

“Yeah, she wouldn't do that,” Davrin agreed. “But this is more than just about your big party, isn't it?”

Astute as always.

Emmrich sighed again, allowing himself to share the thoughts plaguing him. He started, “Do you think I'm good for her, Davrin? I worry at times. Lace, she had—” He had to swallow the ball in his throat before he could continue, the memory of their lost friend still a sharp ache. “—she had said that, perhaps, we had been going too fast, too much all at once.”

“Good for her?” Davrin raised an eyebrow. “Or good enough for her?”

Emmrich's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth at that, words suddenly so difficult to find. After a long moment, he answered in a quiet voice, “I don't know.”

“Well.” Davrin shifted on his feet, clasping Emmrich’s shoulder. The weight was a comfort. “If you ask me, the things you've been through together — that all of us have gone through — that sort of thing builds a bond stronger than most people can think of. You don't defeat the gods with just anyone.” Davrin squeezed his shoulder. “So if she chose you, you best believe she made the right call.”

Emmrich clasped his hand over Davrin's, appreciative of the sentiment. He was right, Emmrich's heart finally settling. Rook had not led any of them astray before. If nothing else, they could trust that.

“Professor!” Bellara bounded up to them, shaking with excitement, almost as much as the wisps above them. “Oh! She's here, she's here!’

“It's time already?” Emmrich face lit, and found himself smoothing the non-existent wrinkles from his coat. When he began twisting his cuff, fidgeting and fretting over the buttons for the third time, Davrin rolled his eyes, Bellara and he not quite dragging Emmrich to his place by the altar but nearly.

Quiet strains of music filled the chapel, a ghostly choir, and the crowd took their seats, hushed anticipation flooding the room. The panels of fabric hung from the entrance, obscuring what — and who — laid beyond it. But Emmrich caught a glimpse of a shadow and his heart leapt to his throat, knowing exactly who was on the other side.

After an eternity, the veil parted, his eyes meeting hers across distance, across time, across the vast sea that deigned to finally put them in each other's paths.

There she was and here was he. The rest of the world fell away.

Emmrich's life had so neatly been split in half — before he met Rook and after.

After his life had been so irrevocably changed by her presence alone. After he had found the love he so desperately craved, a miracle in the shape of a woman that returned his affections just as fiercely. After certain dreams had been finally dusted off the shelf, new life was breathed into them again. After.

The after was sweet.

It smelled like flowers, tasted like sparkling wine, and laughed like their friends, loud in the hall behind them — Davrin and Bellara leading the gathered crowd through a Dalish drinking game — as Emmrich stepped onto the balcony with his bride. His wife.

Wife. The word alone tasted sweet on his tongue, more powerful than anything he could have drank that night. He was dizzy with it, overwhelmed with such unfamiliar joy at the word. Lover, confidant, wife.

He could not help but sweep Rook into his arms, her giggles filling the night as he peppered kisses across her face. His lips brushed over her eyelids, one after the other, then down to her nose, a peck at the tip of it. Then to her cheeks, warm from alcohol and affection. His own cheeks mirrored it, hurting from the way he had not stopped smiling since the ceremony.

Rook tilted her head, trying to capture his lips with hers, and pouted when he evaded her, kissing instead the corner of her mouth then her chin.

“Unfair.” Rook pouted harder. “So cruel to your wife already!”

There was that word again, and Emmrich found that it was even sweeter from her lips. He laughed, utterly charmed, louder than he realized.

“Apologies, my love,” he finally said when he calmed, though the warmth in his chest never left.

“Will you make it up to me?” Her voice went low, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“I would do anything for you.” The declaration sprung from his mouth before he could stop it. But it was nothing but the truth, the depth of his affection unfathomable to anyone looking from the outside.

“Prove it.”

Cupping her cheeks, Emmrich pulled them together, lips connecting, swallowing the soft moan that escaped her. An ache grew low in his gut as she molded herself to his form, ribs interlocking, the muscle of their hearts touching until there was no telling where he ended and she began.

There would be no separating them now — not here and not in any life after.

(AO3 Version)

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On one hand I DO think that what Emmrich says to Rook before Touchstone Island is a bitch thing to say and I do think he wanted to hurt them in that moment. The man contains multitudes and yes he's kind but right at that very moment he was absolutely terrified out of his gourd and people who are feeling emotions to that extent don't think rationally. They also tend to, in my experience, self-sabotage pretty extravagantly. The number of people I've known who think they're about to be dumped and so preemptively dump their partner instead...astounding. I can only assume it's worse if you think you're about to watch your partner die. Emmrich wears all of his emotions on his sleeve, fear included. Maybe even especially, and this is the point that it's put in Rook's face. I think they're allowed to be alarmed and even mad, once the dust settles--sarcophagus fucks notwithstanding.

I mean, look. Rook definitely thought they were going to die. They might think about that whole love confession differently when they end up surviving. Not regret, per say, but they might recontextualize it. Hence, even despite the declarations and the tears and the 'darling's, there's a version of Emmrich and Rook that definitely part ways after endgame. I love the idea of Rook being like 'Nah man' when Emmrich freaks out in their face at the literal least opportune time and I also think that literally anybody would need to go do some soul-searching after an experience like leading the Veilguard.

On the other hand, I don't LIKE sad endings. Everyone needs to be happy OR ELSE. There are stories of love but those stories AREN'T OVER!

So yeah it's possible that Rook needs to leave and go find a mountain to be alone on top of for awhile post-game. And it's possible that they tell Emmrich they'll be in touch, or talk when they're back or, if Rook is particularly flakey, they might just disappear one day. And this is angsty and heart-wrenching and Emmrich probably goes back to the Necropolis and grows a beard about it. During this time Dorian probably visits his old professor and after they fuck a little Dorian recommends a therapist. It's all the rage in Tevinter.

This is all to say that Emmrich and Rook are maybe both a little more well-adjusted when they meet again, roughly eight to ten months post-endgame. Rook, kind of as a courtesy, agrees to meet him in a Nevarra City teahouse and it's not until they see him through the window, lean legs crossed and spindly fingers tracing words in a book as he waits, that they realize something.

They've missed him.

Something slots into place that they hadn't even realized was missing. The sight of Emmrich's widow's peak and beautifully arched nose and neat facial hair (Yeah, he kept the beard) soothes their very soul. Their arms ache with the urge to reach out to him, wrap him in their arms, feel the plane of his body against them one more time.

They're still in love with him, is the second realization. Even as they were about to wash their hands of it, seal the lock on the relationship with some mutual closure and perhaps an apology, they realize that they absolutely cannot. Some part of them, hiding until now, was still waiting for the rest of their life to start--and to start it with him.

They walk into the teashop and approach the table. They had a greeting in mind, something cool yet friendly, but when they reach the table all they can say is his name. Whimpered almost, like a plea.

"Emmrich."

And Emmrich, thank the fucking Maker, wears his big beautiful heart on his sleeve. It's obvious when he looks up and meets their eyes that he's just had the same realization. The same avalanche of emotion. That he comes to the exact same conclusion.

Then he smiles. "Hello, darling."

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fancy bone man for a date or something ❤ the stuff I'd wear as a lich. Subtlety is for the living.

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Soft Emmrook

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WIP pic of an Emmrich piece I'm (slowly) working on