#Emmrich x rook

[iedistis]

Those dim, early morning dreams

[sirchik]

[poreyneel]

find you a man who will do your makeup

[minthe-drawings]

little holiday sketch of these love birds <3 also, happy holidays darlings !

more doodles below:

[emmg]

TAPPING FUTURE ASS lol

As a person (a human being with feelings and at least one brain cell still functioning on logic) I genuinely can’t fathom staying in a relationship with someone who chooses lichdom. Like, okay, lichdom isn’t real in our world (obviously), but you get the idea.

Being with someone like that means accepting one of two things: either you’ll never be the most important thing in their life, or you’ll watch them twist themselves into something monstrous while they try (and probably fail, let’s be honest) to come to terms with the fact that, oh yeah, their partner is mortal and gonna kick the bucket one day. And if they’re anything like Emmrich, you know they’d just obsess over it until they drive both of you insane.

You cannot stay sane and stay in a relationship with someone like that. Or a lich. Or whatever. If Rook is even a little bit for real, they’ll eventually rip off the rose-tinted glasses, realize how toxic and unsustainable this crap is, and peace the fuck out. Sure, Emmrich will be devastated, but honestly, if you’re a lich, you don’t get to hold someone hostage in your undead misery. You can’t give them a family, a future, or even the hope of finding each other in the afterlife. The best you could give them (and I mean best-case scenario) is some creepy, obsessive attempt to find a way to keep them around as long as possible using magic, which, let’s be honest, is exactly the kind of shit Emmrich would pull. It’s selfish, it’s cruel, and it’s doomed to fail.

Wildly fucking unhealthy

Lucanis and Emmrich about immortality

[navrok]

We all can agree that it'll never be enough content of THAT story part so... Full comic is not finished yet, but I've put so much effort an time in this part. I need to share my mania with others.

[doctormur]

“Jealousy”

[aurus-3d]

“Did you pick these flowers just for me, dearest?”

[mosoderbergh]

Have some more NSFW Emmrich

I just couldn’t keep my hands off of Emmrich’s breeding kink. Honestly? What a thought. So here’s my own little twist.

The first time, Rook very much accidentally triggers him. They’re still in their honeymoon phase, still at the lighthouse. Everyone sits at the kitchen table. Manfred’S latest shenanigans are discussed. Rook, not for the first time, calls him their “skeleton son”.

“Do you have any children, Emmrich?”, asks Davrin. “Other than Manfred, of course.”

“Ah.” It’s said with a smile, but there’s a buried sadness there. “I’m afraid it wasn’t to be, no.”

“Not yet, anyway”, Davrin chuckles.

There’s a flash of concern on Emmrich’s face. His eyes meet Rook’s, who has already come to suspect this is a sensitive subject. They swoop in to save him.

“Oh, he knows he’s welcome to try and get me pregnant whenever he wants”, they say, their voice dripping with innuendo. They take potions regularly to make sure it doesn’t happen, which Emmrich knows. Their intention is to gross the others out so much the subject gets dropped.

Lucanis chokes on his coffee. Taash boos. Davrin tells them to get a room. The conversation moves on. But Rook catches Emmrich’s glance, his face blank, eyes dark. As soon as the topic is well and truly forgotten he leans in, whispers: “A word, dearest”, his voice tense in a way that gives Rook anxiety. They excuse themselves from the table and Rook earnestly worries that they’ve offended him. They barely make it through the door to Emmrich’s library before he has Rook pinned against the nearest wall. Rook knows Emmrich as an attentive lover, giving to a fault. More often than not, Rook has to do a bit of sweet-talking before Emmrich lets his own pleasure be the focus, and wringing little sighs from him has become one of Rook’s favourite games. Right now, Emmrich is whimpering into Rook’s mouth, groping them with a neediness that renders him clumsy. Rook is more than willing to help. They are undressed within moments, and Emmrich in on them again immediately, taking just enough time to position them both against the desk for support.

It doesn’t take long before they are soaking wet, mainly because this new side of Emmrich turns them on so much they think they might just black out. Usually, Emmrich tends to lavish them with praise, and the way his voice falters in between declarations of affection when he’s losing control is the hottest thing Rook has ever heard - until tonight. Because right now, Emmrich, who usually doesn’t shut up right until the very end, is unmistakably too horny to form words. He enters them with a cry that is equal parts need and relief, as if every second leading up to their union had him in agony. Rook wraps themselves around him, cooing into his ear that yes, Maker, he feels good, this is so right, they want him so much. The one word that makes it over Emmrich’s lips is Rook’s name, uttered over and over, a moan, a whisper, a plea. Emmrich doesn’t last long, and he comes with a groan from so deep within his soul it seems entirely removed from his speaking voice.

Rook wraps their arms tight around Emmrich as he catches his breath against their neck. They can sense his mind kicking back into gear, ever overthinking.

“That”, they whisper into his ear before he can even begin to feel self-conscious about what just happened, “was amazing.”

Emmrich huffs a laugh that is muffled by Rook’s skin. He sounds incredulous. They untangle from each other, just enough for Emmrich to rest his forehead against Rook’s. His smile is somewhat sheepish, but his eyes glow with adoration.

“I truly wish I could explain”, he says.

“Oh, I think I got the gist of it”, Rook says with a grin.

The way he spoils Rook after feels almost like an apology. Rook wishes he left them with enough breath to say there’s nothing to be sorry for. Then again: They’ll have time enough to talk later.

[piswglenths]

Emmrook doodles :333

[grandmother-goblin]

No One Will Notice

Chapter 1

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: It had been nearly an entire day since Emmrich's wonderful date with Rook in the Memorial Gardens, but he couldn't help but worry that he had left a less-than-favorable impression. Especially given the disastrously awkward end to the evening.

Relationships: Emmrich x Female!Rook

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: Kitchen make-outs, romance, fluff, age-gap, relationship discussion about aforementioned age-gap, gratuitous overthinking.

The small, antique clock atop the fireplace in Emmrich’s room ticked away another minute, and it felt like it was taunting him. Reminding him that he had made next to no progress in reviewing a colleague’s latest book based on studies of lesser known and rare spirits. A fascinating topic, and one that he had been looking forward to reading, but he couldn’t focus.

He hadn’t been able to focus on anything. Not on the book in his lap, or his lessons with Manfred. His mind even wandered off whilst in the middle of corpse-whispering. His date with Isera in the Memorial Gardens last night had consumed his every thought.

It played over and over again in his mind like a carousel of ephemeral memories. Most of which were quite pleasant — Isera’s red painted lips as she smiled at him from across the table, the huskiness of her voice and the lightness of her laughter, the way her fingers played with his as she wordlessly asked to hold his hand, her soft moan when he captured her mouth with his…

The phantom of her touch lingered on his lips like a schoolboy who had their very first kiss. He swore he could still smell her perfume when he closed his eyes — a delicate mix of sandalwood and jasmine that he had inhaled when he lavished her slender throat with his lips. His face warmed when he thought of how she had breathlessly whispered his name, and what she might have sounded like had they gone further.

But that moment just outside of her bedroom cut through his heated memories like a shard of ice.

In retrospect, he could have handled things much better, but he had simply panicked. Emmrich rubbed his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, exhaling deeply as he tried to ward off the chill of discomfiture, knowing he had let his nerves get the best of him. All because of a persistent, nagging thought — one that he had incorrectly presumed he had already come to terms with — decided to rear its head the moment Isera’s eyes invitingly flickered toward the bedroom door.

Self-consciousness, shame, and fear doused his lust and desire in an instant.

Twenty-seven years.

Isera was twenty-seven years younger than him. Her bright eyes, deep-green like winter conifers and framed with long lashes, had no signs of crow's feet, and there wasn’t a single strand of grey in her dark brown hair.

He was old enough to be her father, yet he had been treating her as he would someone around his own age the entire night. Like they were two grown adults on a lovely date, which they were, but…

What would other people think when they saw him and Isera together? Would they think he was some lecherous old man, manipulating a young woman who didn’t know any better into bed? Would they judge Isera for being attracted to him and accuse her of unsavory motivations?

People would talk, regardless of either his or Isera’s feelings or intentions toward one another. Moving too quickly would only feed the worst of the people who would see their relationship in bad faith.

More than his own reputation, he worried for hers. What if she hadn’t thought things through? What if she ended up regretting spending the night with him? Emmrich would never have been able to forgive himself.

So, instead of accepting the invitation that he had secretly been hoping for the entire night, he had taken a step back.

He needed to be cautious. He needed to take things slower than he would have liked. For both of their sakes.

A teasing specter of belated regret haunted him, replaying the moment he had pulled away from her. The moment the desire in Isera’s eyes was replaced with hurt and confusion. How her throat bobbed as she swallowed down his rejection. How she gave him a hollow smile when he blamed the late hour and the wine and the need to be responsible. Reasons that had nothing to do with her, or his feelings towards her.

He should have just been honest with her.

He should have at least tried to correct himself before he said goodnight. But the damage had already been done and he feared any immediate attempt to rectify the situation would seem disingenuous. So instead, he had pressed a kiss to her forehead, a feeble attempt at reassurance. Considering how small her voice sounded when she bid him goodnight, it didn’t do much good.

Emmrich closed the book in his lap and stared at the dwindling flames in the fireplace, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned against the arm of his chair. After hours of teasing touches and stolen kisses… oh, he couldn’t begin to imagine what Isera might think of him.

The best he could hope for was that Isera saw the whole interaction as nothing more than the faux pas that it was, and she was willing to forgive him for leading her on for the entire evening. Had he been in her shoes, he would probably be wracking his brain trying to figure out where things had gone wrong.

A log in the fireplace crackled, and Emmrich’s eyes followed a single bright orange ember as it blackened, burning out in the soot. If he didn’t talk to Isera soon, he feared his relationship with her might do the same.

They hadn’t spoken since they had parted ways last night. Emmrich hadn’t seen her at breakfast, or while he was assisting Bellara with one of her projects in the courtyard, or when he had spent an hour reading in the main library where he had secretly hoped he would catch her. Perhaps on her way into or out of her room, or the courtyard, or even the eluvian. Most days, he would have run into her at least once or twice, but not today.

Well, enough was enough. Emmrich stood from his chair and returned his colleague’s book to the bookshelf, knowing he was in no state to give it a proper review while Isera occupied his every thought. He needed to talk to her. The only reason he hadn’t done so sooner was that part of him had been hoping that Isera would have sought him out as she usually did, giving him some reassurance that everything was still okay between them.

But she hadn’t. And if she was upset with him, he needed to do whatever he could to try to ameliorate the situation.

That was, of course, if she still wanted him.

Emmrich turned to a small, ornate mirror he kept perched on a bookshelf and quickly checked over his reflection. “You’re being ridiculous,” he muttered to himself as he straightened his collar pin. “You just made a bit of a fool of yourself, that’s all. There is nothing to worry about. Isera will be perfectly understanding.”

Talking to himself helped soothe his anxiety, if only a little bit. Sometimes it was easier to put his problems into perspective by saying them aloud. What happened outside the bedroom was just a tiny hiccup in their relationship — a learning experience.

According to the clock above the fireplace, it was close to supper time. Provided that the cooking rotation hadn’t changed without him knowing, he knew he would find Isera in the kitchen making something delicious. Perhaps he could see if she required any assistance and, if they were alone, he could talk to her before the team all sat down to eat.

Ideally, he and Isera could have a productive conversation and everything would be good between them before their companions could suspect something was amiss.

He and Isera had yet to discuss how to broach the topic of their relationship with the rest of the team. It was so new, and it hadn’t seemed necessary. But he would hate for the others to find out in less than ideal circumstances. He would never hear the end of it.

Worry trickled into his stomach again at the thought of what their companions might think; an old man like himself in a relationship with a young woman like Isera…

Emmrich pushed those thoughts aside before they could catch a foothold in his mind. The others could think whatever they wanted to think. Isera was the only person he needed to be worried about. Everyone else’s opinion was secondary.

Isera was a grown woman, perfectly capable of making her own decisions about whose company she wished to keep. And she had shown that time and time again that she wanted him with her soft smiles, silken kisses and sweet words.

And it was high time he assured her that he still wanted her too.

—

Isera laid another thin sheet of pasta over her carefully measured dollops of a mushroom and ricotta mixture. She had made this recipe dozens of times, yet she had still made a few more mistakes while constructing the ravioli than she cared to admit. Nothing unsalvageable, but it did end up taking more time than she had expected.

Normally she would have picked something easier to make for the team than homemade pasta, but after her date with Emmrich ended somewhat awkwardly, she found herself craving some comfort food.

Her face heated as she remembered the mild panic on Emmrich’s face when he pulled away from her. It was as if he had suddenly realized he had forgotten something important — something that needed to be addressed immediately. But instead of telling her what that something was, he gave her a flimsy excuse about the late hour and walked away like he had other places to be.

It didn’t feel right. Not because he had turned her down, but it was more about the manner in which he did so. If he wasn’t comfortable with going further, she was perfectly fine with that. It simply seemed odd to her that they had been tiptoeing toward the bedroom the entire night only for him to turn tail once they got to the door.

Had she completely misread the situation? Her stomach fluttered at the memory of his hands on her hips, and the subtle roughness of his facial hair against her skin as his lips dragged down her neck to her collarbone.

Isera shook her head. Something happened. Something must have happened. She just didn’t know what. What was worse, she wasn’t even sure how to ask him about it. What could she say? Hey, I know you said you wanted to stop last night because it was late but I think that’s bullshit and you should tell me what was really going on?

There was a reason why none of her previous relationships had lasted very long, and it was mostly her own fault. Being direct and honest worked great for her professionally, but in interpersonal relationships or matters that required a more delicate touch, not so much. It was something she was working on.

Waiting for a pot of water to come to a boil, Isera leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip from her glass of white wine. If Emmrich simply wasn’t ready to spend the night together, she wished he would have said as much. At least then she could stop fretting over whether or not she had done something wrong.

Whatever happened last night, more than anything, she hoped Emmrich was okay. She hoped she hadn’t made him uncomfortable, or made him feel pressured — that was the last thing she wanted. She hoped that the awkwardness was just new relationship jitters and nothing more.

She took another slow sip of wine—

“Isera, darling?”

The wine caught in the back of her throat. Turning away from the counter, she managed to swallow it down before breaking into a pathetic, barely stifled, coughing fit.

Yep, that was exactly the first thing she wanted him to see after last night. If he hadn’t been attracted to her before, he certainly would be now.

“Hi, Emmrich,” she croaked, her cheeks burning from nearly choking on her wine and her dignity.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear,” he said with a warm chuckle as he approached. “Can I get you anything? Perhaps some water?”

Isera shook her head. Given her luck, she’d probably choke on the water too. “I’m good,” she said, catching her breath. “Let’s just pretend you didn’t see that.”

“You’ve nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said, smiling at her in a way that oddly made her feel a little better. At least, it made her feel like he wasn’t completely disgusted by her. “These sorts of things happen. I’ve certainly had my fair share of such moments.”

“You should tell me one of them. Just to make us even.”

“Oh, give it time,” he replied. “I’m certain things will even out in that department soon enough.”

A smile tugged on the corner of her lip at the implication; if he thought he would be around long enough to embarrass himself, perhaps she hadn’t turned him off from her after all.

“Dinner should be ready in the next half hour.” Isera turned her attention back to the pot of now boiling water. “I just have to finish up the sauce and cook the pasta.”

Emmrich’s hand brushed over the small of her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to provide some assistance,” he asked, his tone light and friendly, like there wasn’t a hint of anything wrong between them. “Though it seems like you’ve done most of the hard work. The pasta looks absolutely perfect, by the way.”

The compliment combined with his causal touch made her stomach do a funny little flip. “Thank you,” she said, sounding more composed than she felt. “If you want to cook the ravioli for me, that would be very helpful. We’ll have to cook them in a few batches.”

Emmrich pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head. “Consider it done, my dear,” he said and went to the sink. He pushed up his sleeves and his bracelets far enough that he could wash his hands without getting anything else wet, and Isera couldn’t help the smile tugging on her lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. It wasn’t uncommon for Mourn Watchers, especially senior ones, to wear their grave goods as part of their daily attire, but Isera couldn’t remember the last time she had been so entranced by someone’s jewelry.

Or, perhaps, her fascination only had to do with the man wearing it.

Last night, she had asked him about his rings as she played with his hands. One had once belonged to his father, another had a protective enchantment, yet another was one that he wore simply because he enjoyed it. She remembered the feel of them against her skin when laced his fingers with her own, when he cupped her face and brought his mouth to hers, when he slipped his hands beneath her shirt….

Focus. If she messed up dinner because she was too busy thinking about Emmrich, she was never going to let herself live that down.

Isera turned her attention to the cutting board and kitchen knife she had set out earlier and began to work on preparing garlic for the sauce. Behind her, she could hear Emmrich starting on his own task.

Although everything seemed like it had gone back to normal between them, Isera’s found herself unable to relax as the silence stretched between them. Normally, bouts of silence between her and Emmrich were perfectly comfortable, but not now.

“I had a lot of fun last night,” Isera said, knowing she would drive herself mad if she didn’t at least try to talk to him about what had been plaguing her mind all day. She just had to be careful about it. Nothing too direct. She didn’t want to accidentally accuse him of something that only existed in her head.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, sounding genuine. “Although, speaking of last night, there is something I want to talk to you about. Regarding when we parted for the evening.”

Anticipatory dread dropped down in her stomach, and she set her chopping aside before her nerves caused her to make a mistake. “I’ve been wanting to talk about that too. I feel like I might have misread the situation, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Isera, you didn’t misread anything.” His voice was so soft and warm that it immediately eased some of her anxiety. “You were perfect, my dear. I’m the one who ought to apologize for making you doubt yourself for even a moment.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him with a slight frown. “It was hard not to think so,” she said. “You left so suddenly. I felt like I had done something wrong and you were just making an excuse to leave.”

Emmrich sighed. “I suppose I was, but it was just…” His lips drew into a thin line as he stared at the pot as if he hoped it would finish his sentence for him. “Until that moment— If we were closer in age, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But with the years between us, I worried that taking that step too soon might negatively impact your perception of me.”

“But you knew that going into this.”

“I know,” he agreed, his voice soft and twinged with unmistakable shame. “I suppose it didn’t truly sink in until then.”

Isera leaned back against the counter and picked up her glass of wine, needing something to do with her hands as her stomach tied itself in knots.

There wasn’t anything she could do if he truly found himself uncomfortable with the years between them. While she would be incredibly frustrated that he hadn’t spoken up sooner, maybe even a little angry, she would accept it. She’d have to. At least he would have nipped their romantic relationship in the bud rather than waiting for it to bloom.

Isera took a sip of her wine and turned her gaze downward, mentally counting the tiles on the floor as the seconds stretched on. “So what does that mean? Do you… want to stop?”

A wooden spoon clattered against the counter. “No!” he said and crossed the kitchen in a few long strides. “No, no, no. Not at all.”

Carefully, he took the glass of wine from her and set it on the counter behind her. Then he gathered her hands in his, giving them reassuring squeeze as he looked at her imploringly. “It means I spent the entire day wishing I had simply asked you if you thought we were moving too quickly instead of making the decision for both of us.” His thumb brushed over hers soothingly and he sighed. “I let my nerves get the better of me. And for that, I’m sorry. It had nothing to do with you. I need you to know that.”

Slowly, the tension in her muscles eased as she absorbed his words. A relieved breath of laughter passed her lips. “I was worried that I had scared you off.”

“Impossible, dearest.” The warm metal of his jewelry against her skin was like a balm to her frayed nerves as he adjusted his hold on her hand. As if she were some sort of lady rather than a warrior, he brought her fingers to his lips. Without breaking his gaze, he pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”

Warmth pooled in the pit of her stomach as her heartbeat quickened, her worries evaporating into the ether. “Are you sure?” she asked, the question genuine despite the playfulness of her tone. “You might have to convince me.”

“Absolutely,” he said and took a step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to see him. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip as he cradled her face in his palms. “But I could certainly try to convince you anyway.”

“I think you should.”

“As do I,” Emmrich whispered, his mouth brushing against hers as he spoke.

His long, elegant, fingers slid to the nape of her neck, threading through her dark hair, before he covered her mouth with his. Isera inhaled deeply as she looped her arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of him — the faint smell of his aftershave, like citrus and tea leaves, and the clean scent of his soap. His presence, his touch, enveloped her completely. It was all too easy to forget where they were.

Soft but commanding, he nudged her mouth open with a confident stroke of his tongue. She let him walk her back until he nearly had her bent over the countertop, her body pressed between the hard surface and the firm contours of his body. Despite friendly jokes claiming otherwise from Davrin and Taash, Emmrich was remarkably fit. As if to prove it, he slid his arms around her and lifted her easily onto the edge of the counter.

Her hands cupped his face as he continued to kiss her like there was nothing in the world he would rather be doing. Heat pooled deep within her as he tilted her head, exploring her mouth with satiny strokes of his tongue. She couldn’t help but smile at the delicate tickle of his mustache against her skin as his mouth caught hers again and again and again.

“Emmrich,” she breathed, lifting her mouth from his. “As much as I hate to ruin the mood… the pasta…”

His eyes widened with a brief, minor, flash of alarm. “Oh, dear.” He pressed another brief, heated kiss to her lips before scurrying across the kitchen to rescue the first batch of ravioli. “It appears they survived our momentary inattentiveness.”

Isera laughed and slid off of the counter. “I should have picked something that doesn’t cook so quickly.”

“Not sure if that would have helped,” he replied as he started on the next batch. “You could keep me occupied for hours, my dear.”

Crimson colored her cheeks, ignited by the heat in his words the spark of desire in his gaze. She swallowed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Emmrich stirred the pot. “So will I.”

---

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

[preciouslittlewatcher]

Emmrich and Rook getting a little emotional during sex after they escaped from the fade prison. Rook is back, they're here, they're alive. Weeks of grief and possible dissociation gets broken down and there they are, kissing and holding each other like they can't bear to let go ever again.

[emmg]

So you’re telling me these all-powerful Lich Lords of the Necropolis can figure out how to live forever but can’t stop their bodies from rotting?

Yeah, okay, sure, whatever the fuck you say

Just a bullshit excuse to turn Emmrich into a badass-looking skeleton for the aesthetics

Couldn’t let the poor bastard keep his moustache or his dick

Now he’s stuck finger-blasting Rook with crusty-ass mummy fingers or some weird Fade magic nonsense for the rest of eternity. No head. Ever. Just a lifetime of awkward necromantic hand stuff. What a fucking deal

[poreyneel]

Would you stay with me a little longer?

[justcallmefox89]

Listen, I bought Veilguard specifically because I saw promo art of Lucanis and thought, “hot damn, that’s a man I need to romance”. So tell me why the very minute the geriatric necromancer shows up on my computer screen, my Rook’s knees FUCKING BUCKLE. I am so down bad for Bone Peepaw I don’t know how I’m meant to romance any other character after this. 😭

[displacer-beasts]

I'm just imagining the companions being like "Ooooooh going out with Rook again? Have fun!" and then immediately runs to gossip with the others about Emmrook.

This is before locking in the romance too (this dialogue happens when you meet Emmrich at the gardens for the romance scene), which makes me think some companions absolutely noticed all the pining that took place before the romance actually started.