#I am also into Emmrich! and Emmrook!!!

[vvitchering]

Desperately need some fandom friends….anyone wanna invade each other’s inboxes with Veilguard/Lucanis/Spite/Rookanis things?

[veilkeeper]

there's something interesting about emmrich's hangout being so... structured and composed. everyone else's hangout is under the guise of some sort of errand, yes, but they're very casual and free-form. whereas with emmrich, he's taking you on this tour of the memorial gardens in the necropolis. and it is a tour—when he shows you the undead tableaux, it feels like he's reading off a script with the way he describes it to rook, tour guide style. and later, when he opens up to rook, it is always him initiating with the distinct feeling of something being said on purpose, like he had prepared to discuss it.

the flirt at the end gives a romance-flavoured explanation: that he was specifically trying to impress rook, that this is an attempt to endear himself to them. and in a lot of ways, it does look like that: he takes rook to one of the most beautiful, peaceful places he knows, opens up to them about his past, and then he has tea set up at the end of it, like a good host. (he is also rather caught off guard when you flirt with him here, and it could be interpreted as him being embarrassed at being caught out, or trying to walk it back so he doesn't offend).

however.... i don't really think that was his intention? this is probably coloured by the fact that i feel like, comparatively, emmrich has had very few one on one interactions with rook to this point and he breezes by the only flirt before this, but i don't think he walked into the memorial gardens with any intention to charm or otherwise woo rook, here. i think his intention was to get them alone and get an honest read on how they felt about him. specifically, about his work as a necromancer.

if you've rotated different people through the party with him, and if you've paid attention to the conversations he's had with others in the lighthouse, it becomes abundantly clear basically immediately that everyone has opinions on necromancy, and they largely fall into the territory of distrusting, put off, or even outright disgusted by it. a lot of emmrich's early banter with several party members is him going about the pretty exhausting ordeal of defending his magic, the mourn watch, his fields of study, manfred's existence, etc. and because of the lack of one on one time with rook, i'd be surprised if he felt like he'd really had an opportunity to get a read on what his new colleague actually thinks about it all.

so i think he is trying to impress rook, just... not like that. i think he's trying to prove that the necropolis is beautiful, that it's laden in history and rituals that mean something. that the mourn watch is good (the sort of order that would take in an orphan, and give him purpose and structure), and that even necromancers can fear death. i think he's trying to prove that he's a person, under all the misconceptions about his work that seem to go around the lighthouse when he isn't looking.

and i think that's why he looks so taken aback and genuinely surprised when rook flirts with him at the end—because it really wasn't his intention, but he recovers fast enough to pivot with grace. i don't think he's uninterested, i just think he wasn't sure rook could be.

[ariesize]

emmrich x rook: 'til the grass around my gravestone is deceased

A/N: its 4.7k words of library sex and mushy gushy feelings. TW for blood and smoking again. also on ao3 (click to check tags).

Rook’s lounging on the floor of Neve’s office, the mouthpiece connected to one of the hoses of the hookah in the middle of the group is dangling from her fingers as the smoke slowly trickles out of her mouth. Lucanis, Neve, and Davrin are all present, everyone feeling light and buzzed from the smoke. 

Nights like these make Rook feel normal. She’s with her friends, listening to Lucanis tell a story about a contract gone spectacularly wrong and for a moment she can pretend this is totally normal - that they aren’t in the dread wolf’s hideout in the fade while, taking a reprieve from planning to kill two other gods in a fight to save the world. No, none of that is allowed in here tonight. Check your apocalyptic baggage at the door and sit on the floor and pretend like everything is fine.

“Illario wouldn’t even look at me for two weeks after we got back,” Lucanis is saying with his eyes bright and smile wide, coffee in hand and passing the hose to Davrin, who wipes tears from his eyes from laughing so hard. It’s nice to see these two getting along - tensions were high after Weisshaupt and Rook was nervous they would never be able to reconcile afterwards. But here they are, this strange little family falling into step with one another. 

“Were you ever able to figure out who took your pants?” Davrin asks, causing another round of laughter from the group. Lucanis shakes his head, crossing his legs in front of him and letting his head rest on Neve’s desk behind him from his spot on the floor. 

“Never, but that does not stop me from checking every Rivani merchant stall I see. I loved those pants,” Lucanis says with a wistful note. The air in the room is warm and thick with smoke and Rook could be content to stay there for hours more, laying on the floor and indulging in the evening - or what passes for evening in this place where the light never dims - but she knows if she doesn’t move now then she’s never moving again. Her body is still aching from a fight against the Antaam she encountered in Rivain earlier in the day and she can’t help but wince a little as she starts to stand up.

Rook’s movement is met with a chorus of disapproval from the group, Davrin going as far as to give her two thumbs down. She takes one last drag from the hookah and blames her aches and pains and says, “I don't think I can follow that story up, Lucanis,” nudging his leg gently with her foot. “It's well past time for me to go lay down on something that isn't a floor,” Rook says as she makes her way to the door. 

She looks back at the group and gives them a small wave, blows them a kiss goodnight. Davrin shoos her away, Lucanis says she's no fun as he takes another sip of coffee, and Neve gives her a wink that makes Rook falter for just one second. There’s no way she knows anything, right?

Rook leaves before anything else happens that might make her linger even longer and takes a deep breath when the door shuts behind her. The air is warm but not stifling, almost comforting in a way. She doesn't think of the lighthouse as home but it is safe and for that she is grateful. She stretches her arms out, reaches down to touch her toes, listening to her joints pop and oh that feels nice, she thinks, all loose, warm and buzzy from the hookah. 

As much as she loves spending time with her friends, this crew who is rapidly approaching the sector of her brain reserved for family, she is all too eager to head inside and seek out the person she's been spending most of her time with lately. If she wasn't so relaxed and fuzzy from the evening she'd be trying not to sprint inside, through the doors, and up the stairs and into Emmrich’s bed as quickly as she possibly could. 

And who can blame her for it? She's living out dreams she didn't even know she had. Her previous partners were fast, quick, nothing to write home about - barely even footnotes on her life's story. But Emmrich? He’ll get an entire volume. Rook never knew she could be treated this way. Emmrich spends time with her like he actually cares about knowing who she is. He asks questions, recalls little comments she doesn't even remember making in the first place. He’s brought romance to her life where previously there was none. Rook didn't think she was worth gestures big or small until now. 

It’s in the way he touches her like he can’t believe it’s him who gets to do such a thing. What a concept, that he’s the one whose bed she crawls into late at night, where she wakes up in the mornings. It's with his hands that he gets to unravel her and put her back together again, his sighs that meet her lips, his words and praise that rest against her skin. 

How funny it is to have found this man made of light and love in the dark and chilly halls of the Necropolis. She's almost indebted to Solas for without him and without this war she never would have found Emmrich. 

She's equally as besotted with him too. There is nothing Rook loves more than to just be in his presence. She may be the leader here but he commands attention so effortlessly that she feels like jelly when he looks at her across a room or across the battlefield. How did she get so lucky, to be the object of his affection?

She brings him back all sorts of items from her travels when he doesn't accompany her - I found this ink in Treviso and the dark green made me think of you. Look, this flower grew in the Hossberg Wetlands of all places and I rolled it in a map so it didn't get destroyed - and he accepts them all with glee. “My little crow,” he said once after receiving one of her many gifts, laughter wrinkling his eyes and his hands coming up to cup her face, “truly living up to her title.” 

Rook is pleasantly surprised to walk through the doors and see Emmrich sitting on the green couch, a book open in his lap and a stack of others placed on the table before him. He doesn’t seem to notice her walk in so she uses that to her advantage, pulling on a lifetime of crow training to creep around and peek over his shoulder. The book he's reading is, of course, in a language she couldn't even begin to place. She presses her lips together to keep her from smiling too big in case it turns into a laugh. Rook will never understand the allure books and knowledge holds over him, but she can appreciate it all the same for books and learning have made him into who he is now, her brilliant professor who studies her with that same meticulous care. 

He’s too observant, too practiced at noticing students sneak into class late, too in tune with his surroundings out of necessity borne from life in the Necropolis, because she doesn't manage to sneak up on him at all actually. She's lost her touch, or maybe she just wants him to find her in every room so that she can't hide from him. She's addicted to his gaze and his attention, every look between them feels like she's been drinking the sweetest, most delicious wine she's ever had. It's then that he finally acknowledges her - he doesn't turn to face her but rather says softly, “Do you intend to say anything or just lurk in the shadows, my dear?” 

Rook laughs and, since they’re completely alone in this space, drapes her arms around his shoulders from behind and buries her face where his shoulder meets his neck. His hand comes up to grasp one of hers and brings it to his mouth, gently kissing it before returning it to its previous spot. 

“Guess I’m a little out of practice,” Rook says, her words muffled by his shirt. She goes around and sits down next to him, promptly swinging her legs onto his lap and laying back so her head is placed upon the arm of the couch. His gloved hand comes to rest against her shins, the other has been claimed by Rook who is holding it with both of hers, idly fidgeting with his rings and bracelets. “Am I interrupting?” she asks, knowing full well he'd stop doing just about anything if she asked him to. 

“Nothing that can't wait until another time,” he says and is instantly met with a coy, lip-bitten smile from Rook. She looks from his eyes down to his hand where she’s sliding her favorite ring, the one with the emerald, up and down his finger. “Although, might I suggest we move this conversation upstairs?” he adds, knowing exactly what that look is a prelude to.

She can't even pretend to have had other motives for seeking him out to start with. Her thoughts are always revolving around him these days, and she can't help it if those thoughts quickly turn from innocent to, well, anything but. She’s flesh and blood and who can blame her if her thoughts turn to daydreams about his hands on her, his mouth whispering sweet nothings against her lips as his cock drives in and out of her. 

Rook really does consider his offer to go upstairs for about three seconds. She almost starts to get up because truth be told she’ll do anything he asks, too but then pauses, an idea forming and she knows he's not going to go along with this but she might as well try. Rook is anything but a quitter.

Theory: Emmrich loves books, loves being surrounded by them, and though he hasn't said it yet she thinks he just might love her too. Therefore, through the combination of these elements, maybe he would be so kind as to fuck her. Here. In the library. 

“I actually think I'm perfectly happy here,” Rook says, her voice dropping ever so slightly. Her lips start to pout as she drops his hand onto her thigh and moves hers up to the neckline of her shirt. “It is a little warm in here, however,” she says as she unfastens the first two buttons. She slowly brings her hands down over her chest, her eyes never leaving his. 

Emmrich may be a gentleman and a scholar, the perfect image of a polished and professional man, but he is a man at the end of the day. A man who has divulged, in great detail, exactly how her body makes him feel. She knows he loves her curves, her short frame and the way he towers over her. He’s touched every inch of her with hands and lips and could tell you about every scar and mark and dimple she has. Rook uses this to her advantage now, hoping the tiniest amount of skin revealed from those first two buttons are enough to make his mind wander to the rest of her body that he already knows so well. She sees his eyes following her neckline down, pausing at her cleavage as his eyes grow darker, his cheeks flush ever so slightly. 

It’s now or never, she thinks as she moves her legs off of him and onto the ground, pushing off of the couch to circle around it. She wants to make this seductive, his young lover in a library openly throwing herself at him, begging to be touched and fucked while the threat of being caught looms over them. She goes to wrap her arms around his shoulders as she had when she walked into the room earlier, but never gets the chance as he’s already a step ahead of her.

He looks completely unphased as he too gets up and starts putting books back on the shelves next to the couch. She's leaning over the back of the couch and she knows she's overdoing it but she wants to see him affected by her, and wants her little scheme to unfold right here in the library. Her head is resting on her folded arms on the couch, her back is arched and she's practically begging for him to come over, touch her, do anything he wants to her. 

Emmrich spares her a glance, and she sees a look - hungry but tame - ghost over his features. He takes his time putting the books back, letting his fingers run along the edges of the spines, the shelves, even flipping through a few of them before putting them back in their spots. It’s torture for Rook to watch and wait for him to acknowledge her. It’s as he slides the last book in place that he finally says, “Rook, I know what you’re trying to do and I must insist. This is not the place.” 

“But it's the library. Haven’t you ever thought about having sex in a library?” she asks. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but that particular adventure was crossed off my list many years ago,” Emmrich says, causing Rook’s mouth to fall open in surprise. She doesn’t know why she’s so surprised - he’s regaled her with sordid tales from his student days plenty of times before - but she can honestly say she wasn’t expecting him to say that. 

She recovers quickly though, her eyes firmly set on the prize in front of her. 

“Well, as lovely as that must have been, you’ve never fucked me in a library before and I’d like to see what the fuss is about,” she sighs, turning her head to face the opposite direction. She’s rapidly approaching begging territory, ready to get down on her knees and plead with him to take her right here where they stand. She knows he secretly enjoys this side of her, a little sassy and a little demanding, just so he can knock her down a notch; Emmrich argues that he is not into using his authority in a professorial manner over her in this type of context, saying he wishes to keep these two parts of his life entirely separated, but she has yet to see him follow through on that claim. 

She hears him move but doesn’t know where he is until he’s right behind her, hands gripping her hips hard and lips brushing against her ear. She inhales sharply at his breath on her skin, his thumbs rubbing back and forth across her hip bones. “Anyone could walk in. Taash is right upstairs. What if they hear?” he says quietly while Rook tries to shift under his hands and turn to face him. His grip is unrelenting, however, and she’s forced to stay still underneath him. 

“It’s thrilling,” is all she can manage before one of his hands, the ungloved one, comes up from her body to cover her mouth. He knows exactly what he’s doing, knows how weak his hands make her, how easily she’ll follow his instruction if he takes the lead. 

“If we do this then you are not to make a sound,” he says, teeth nipping at her ear and his hand catching the moan threatening to escape her mouth. “If you do, I will stop immediately. Do you understand?” Oh how quickly the tables have turned. In an instant she went from having to convince him this was a good idea to him taking the lead, ordering her to follow his rules which she is all too happy to comply with. 

Rook nods, silently mourning the loss of his hand on her mouth as it goes back to her hips. It’s suddenly very real; she truly can’t believe she got him to agree to this as fast as he did. He was absolutely already thinking about this, she thinks, suppressing a smirk from forming across her lips.

His hands quickly begin working where her pants are fastened and she wants to help but their positioning, plus the other hand on her hip, are keeping her firmly rooted in place. It doesn’t take much to get her hot and ready, something he’d been delighted to learn early on in their relationship. After his hand on her mouth, his lips against her ear, and the fact that he’s indulging her in this fantasy and she’s already delightfully wet when he tugs down her pants slightly and reaches his hand in between her legs. 

“My dear, I do believe you’ll be the death of me,” he whispers as he slips two fingers inside of her while his index finger rubs at her clit. She wants to let him hear how good he makes her feel, wants to let the whimper that’s building in her throat out but she can’t risk him stopping now. She asked for this, begged for it even, so she’s going to do exactly as she’s told. 

He’s supposed to be a good teacher, afterall. Might as well follow his careful instruction to the best of her abilities. 

Rook barely even gets to enjoy the feeling of his fingers inside of her, his warm hand with jewels and gold and ink smudges that she so desperately loves, before they’re gone. She hears him fumbling with the buckles and buttons of his own pants and she spreads her legs a little farther apart in anticipation while rising up on her tiptoes to account for their height difference. She braces her arms on the back of the couch, says a quick prayer to the Maker that the rest of her team is busy elsewhere and won’t ruin this for them. 

What she���s not expecting is his hand coming up in front of her face. His palm is facing upwards, his fingers still shining with her slick, as he leans over her again so his lips are next to her ear when he commands, deeply and softly, “Spit.” 

She has to bite down on her bottom lip so hard to keep her mouth from opening and obscene sounds from falling out. Her lip is bloody, her eyes are closed and her breathing is deep and hard and this is the first time he’s ever asked her to do this. It’s like he can see directly into her brain and knows all of her secrets and fantasies.

To her credit, Rook is a great listener. She gathers spit in her mouth, lets it slowly spill from her blood tinged lips and into his waiting palm. She is so careful not to make a single sound, and she is rewarded by a warm exhale of breath on her neck and a soft, “Very good, my love,” said into her hair. 

She doesn’t know why she’s the one who has to be quiet when she’s not the one covered in loud gold jewelry. The sounds of his bracelets clinging against one another as he quickly strokes himself make her mouth water even more, this bubble of silence momentarily burst by the metallic sounds of his hand moving up and down. 

Rook does such a good job staying silent when he finally enters her from behind. She so badly wants to say anything, make any noise at all, as he sets a punishingly quick pace. She’s breathing heavily as she adjusts to the feeling of him inside her, her exhales being the only noise she can hear aside from the sounds of skin on skin and all of his fucking jewelry. 

Of course he isn't following his own rule, still close enough to her ear that he can say all sorts of filthy things between them. “Such a good girl, staying so quiet just like I asked,” he whispers, his breath hot against her ear and she might as well bite her lip off from how hard she's bearing down on it. The challenge of being quiet only enhances this for her, though. Knowing any sound she makes could get them caught is utterly thrilling. 

The hand that isn’t gripping her hip moves up under her shirt and cups her breast, fingers rolling and pinching her sensitive nipple until she’s seeing stars. She pushes her hips back against him and is pleased to hear the quietest moan from behind her. His hand on her hip grabs on even harder, definitely hard enough to bruise, and all of those aches and pains she was complaining about earlier today are no longer bothering her; her brain is unable to recognize sensations not being caused by her lover at this moment.

Rook was almost able to forget they were doing this out in the open until a crash from upstairs startles both of them. His hand quickly comes up from her breast to her mouth, covering it to ensure she stays as quiet as possible. They hear a muffled groan and a string of expletives from the direction of Taash’s room. Neither Rook or Emmrich make any movements, both of their hearts beating like crazy while they wait a moment longer to see if they’ll be caught or not. 

They wait one beat, two, until she slowly rocks her hips again, pushing back against him to drive his cock further inside of her. His hand is still over her mouth and she softly drags her tongue across his palm, tasting her spit and his skin and finally he picks the pace up behind her, pushing into her with more force than before. The friction is almost too much yet still not enough, her release is still out of reach but his hand over her mouth is definitely helping. 

Rook lets her mouth fall open as much as his hand will let her, lets her tongue dart out and across his palm once more before gently brushing against the bottom of his fingers, over his rings until she cannot reach any more skin. He removes his hand for just one moment, long enough to brush her hair off her neck so he can suck on the spot behind her ear, kiss his way up to the pointed tip before going back down to leave bites and bruises along her neck. 

As nice as this is, and as much as she’s enjoying herself, she needs more, needs something else to stop her brain from thinking too much and relax, let her pleasure build until it crashes. His hand on her mouth was definitely helping, and before she can think she’s reaching back for his hand and bringing it back to her lips. 

She doesn’t place his hand over her mouth this time, however. Instead she takes two fingers, his index and middle, and puts them right inside of her mouth. She hears his sharp intake of breath behind her, his rhythm faltering for just one second. It’s not often that she’s able to surprise him but she feels like she won this round of a nonexistent game. His speed quickens, he’s driving into her with such a force that she feels her knees going weak. The friction is so delightful, rougher than she expected he would ever be with her but that combined with his fingers on her tongue has her eyes rolling back, moans building in her throat that will never see the light of day. 

Rook gently starts to suck on his fingers, coaxing them deeper and deeper into her mouth until she’s got them as far back as they’ll go. Her throat is relaxed as her tongue swirls around his fingers, spit pooling around the edges of her lips. It’s filthy, it’s addictive, it’s too much at once and there it is, that familiar pressure in her belly. She’s filled with nothing but Emmrich, his cock and his hand, his body pressed into hers and he’s quietly telling her how perfect you are, how she wants everyone to see her like this, and it’s intoxicating. She’s drunk off of him, and oh how perfect it is. He slowly starts to remove his fingers from her throat and mouth, giving her one last moment to lick and suck them before removing them completely while telling her how amazing she is for taking him down that far.

His hand moves from her mouth and snakes further down until he’s between her legs, his fingers still covered in her spit start rubbing circles around her clit, and it's too much. She lets out the tiniest of sighs, pressing her lips securely together so no sound escapes as her orgasm rips through her. It’s not long until he follows her over the edge, just a few more thrusts and he’s holding her hips flush against him as he comes inside of her, biting back his own sighs of release and ecstasy. 

Conclusion: After rigorous testing, this theory can be confirmed as True. Professor Volkarin did indeed kindly enough fuck her in the library. Whether he was convinced through his love of libraries, books, or for her own self has yet to be discovered, however it can be suggested to be through the combined power of all three.

When Rook’s brain is functioning slightly again, her knees no longer wobbling and her arms no longer braced on the back of the couch for support, she can’t help but let a small laugh out. Her pants are still pulled down, Emmrich’s come is now slowly leaking out of her and down her leg. Her blonde curls are a mess and her lips are red and faintly smeared with blood from where she bit down too hard. Her neck has blooming bruises from his mouth and teeth that are already coming to the surface. She looks absolutely wrecked and she knows it, the perfect picture of debauchery. She can see it in the way he looks at her as she turns around to face him, and she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face or the hearty laugh that bursts out of her throat. 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she whispers, still afraid of being caught. She finally bends over and pulls her pants up before working on getting her hair back into place. Her bangs are matted to her forehead with sweat and she really can’t wait to take a bath shortly. 

“That makes two of us,” Emmrich replies as he finishes buttoning up his pants. He looks far better than she does, but her trained eye notices the sweat on his forehead and the blush on his cheeks, the way his shirt and vest are slightly more rumpled than usual. It’s not long before he can’t contain his own laughter, his gloved hand reaching over to cup her cheek and kiss her before they can keep laughing.

There’s no heat behind this kiss. It’s sweet, full of reverence and what she hopes is love. He doesn’t go far when he breaks away from her, only moving so he can gently press his forehead against hers. 

“You’ve turned me into a lovesick fool, my dear. I don’t think there’s anything you couldn’t convince me to do with you,” he mutters, pressing one last kiss to her lips before pulling back and stepping away from her. “However I think it’s time we went somewhere to get cleaned up, preferably somewhere private this time,” he adds, the corners of his lips coming up into a smile. 

“Lead the way,” is all Rook can say. She doesn’t think now is the best time to blurt out that she’s oh so deeply in love with him but it’s all she can feel, absolutely sated and perfectly in love. Maybe tomorrow, she thinks as she starts to follow him towards the stairs, that’s when I’ll say it. 

For now, though, she’ll go upstairs with him. She’ll let him clean her up and then defile her again and again until neither of them can stay awake any longer. And maybe, when she’s cracking her eyes open for the first time tomorrow he’ll still be in bed with her, awake but content to hold her as she drifts in and out of sleep in his arms. His hands can trace patterns into her skin, his gentle touch tethering her to consciousness. It will be warm and cozy, soft and lovely and perfect and should she be so lucky it's how she’d choose to wake up every day for the rest of her life. 

[quill-pen]

Soooo, you know that part where Rook and Emmrich argue before the final battle, and the game gives you those three options to pick from? And EACH ONE still results in a fight?

Which on do you see G’iney choosing, if she had to? Because I get three totally different vibes from each, and I’m curious which one she’d default to.

Ooh, this was a hard one because the argument is just so... nothing. Barest of bare bones. (No offense, Manfred.) And awkward. And I can only really imagine Guinevere and Emmrich getting much deeper into it than the game seems to let you, with much more passion, raised voices, feelings and worries shouted, etc, probably ultimately ending in some form of affectionate touch, whether or not they actually really come to an agreement at the end.

Ex. Guinevere stopped at the corner and turned to look back towards the dejected necromancer, leaning wearily against his desk. Her heart thrummed with a sudden ache that dampened the annoyance she felt at his stubbornness. What he had said to her was aggravating... but it didn't feel right to leave things like this. She didn't want him reading too much into it. And honestly, neither did she. Turning on her heel, the young mage came back to the man. She reached out to take one of his large, elegant hands in her dainty one and pulled it to wrap his arm around her waist. She moved into embrace him. Instinctively, Emmrich brought his other arm around to encircle her as well. Guinevere reached up to cup his jaw in a palm and draw him closer down to her height. Moving up on tiptoe, she touched her lips to his ever so tenderly. A quiet moan sighed from her lungs as he indulged the contact, nudging deeper into the kiss to embrace her lips with his own. Despite what lay before them, there was no hurry, no haste. All there was at that moment were two devoted lovers enveloped in a soft, sweet exchange. When they finally parted, they remained close, brows touching, noses brushing together as they gazed deeply into the other's eyes. "Emmrich," Guinevere breathed after a moment, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb, "I'm not giving up so easily. On anything." A spark of hope that seemed to have gone out of Emmrich's eyes during their argument glimmered to life again deep within his hazel depths as he picked up on her meaning. His hold on her tightened gently, pulling her still closer. "Then neither shall I," he murmured sincerely, "my darling Rook." And he angled his mouth against hers for another gentle kiss that she eagerly obliged.

That said, you asked if she HAD to choose what the game offered. It would probably be the "I mean something to you!" option. That feels most like her out of the three. The first option kind of shoves Emmrich's insecurity in his face, and I don't ever see G'iney doing that, as she hates to have that done to her. And the last option feels just a bit too cheeky for her, especially considering the topics of love and someone being in love with her. But her kind of teasing him about being able to say he cares about her but not go all the way to say he loves her feels mostly in line with her. "You know, it'd take a lot less time to say "I love you" than "I care for you deeply" and mean the same thing, Mr. Always-chooses-his-words-carefully."

[sunny374940]

So apparently spending a month intensely hyperfixating on a emmrook and writing until three in the morning (to then get up at six) is - shockingly - not good for one's sleep schedule.

I found that out only yesterday when I kept falling asleep writing smut of all things 😄

So I guess I'm gonna have to slow down a bit, but I'm definitely not quitting.

A bit of the smut in question is under the cut. Emmrich and Rook are finally done with the ball and go to bed (to sleep, of course)

Emmrich retrieved his sash from where he'd draped it over the back of a chair (Rook just couldn’t understand how he could be so tidy about everything, as his own clothes were strewn all over the floor, left there in a hurry to get into bed with Emmrich) and tied Rook's wrists securely together. The other end of the sash was attached to the headboard, making him raise his arms above his head, and Rook was trapped.

Emmrich started kissing him and Rook was really getting into it, enjoying the slide of Emmrich's tongue against his lips, when Emmrich suddenly leaned back with a start.

“Wait here, darling, I just remembered something.”

Emmrich got off the bed and went to rummage around in his things, leaving Rook to wonder just what could be so important that he had to look for it now. He tried to turn his head to see what the hell Emmrich was doing, but his arm was in the way and his curiosity went unsatisfied for the moment.

“Aha! There it is.” Emmrich was finally coming back and Rook's eyes widened when he saw what he was holding.

“W-why did you pack a buttplug for a ball?“

"What if we needed it? It pays to be prepared."

[elvhenquyen]

saying their potential goodbyes right before the final fight

Emmrich’s “I’m so proud of you ” smile

[thequeenofthewinter]

Hohoho, it seems very likely I will be able to post the first chapter of my new fic this Friday.

...we're sending Iris to TA for Emmrich.

Everything should be fine, right? What could possibly happen?

[sky-scribbles]

Next up on Things I Liked About Veilguard: the faction leaders. We all know some of the factions and their NPCs did not get anything like the amount of content and character that others did (Strife and Irelin I'm so sorry, I still love you), but sometimes I take a step back and realise how wonderful the stuff we did get was.

I mean - Evka and Antoine. Everything about them is so heartfelt. I hadn't read the supplemental material, but they barely needed to interact before I understood why this sweet, smart guy and this tough, smart woman loved each other. They affirm each other constantly. They respect each other so deeply. They have written letters for the other to take to their Callings: a cipher only Antoine could read. Je t'aime. Je t'aimerai toujours.

I love how Myrna and Vorgoth are introduced, suddenly and unsettlingly there in the Lighthouse. I love Vorgoth speaking in all caps. I love the fact that nobody knows what they are. I love that they raised baby Ingellvar. I love how Myrna is calm and polished while every so often coming out with the absolute wildest shit. They're fun.

The Viper and Tarquin? Top tier. They might be my favourites, just because of how much they have going on. Each of them has a backstory, and you can see exactly how those backstories produced their personalities. Ashur has a secret identity you can piece together from notes and codexes (and it's the funniest identity possible). I love their argument over Ashur's paranoid investigation into Tarquin, because it shows that the world goes on when Rook is not in the room, and the NPCs have relationships that go through ups and downs.

I'm mildly insane over the level of devotion, with Tarquin's desperate letters to the Wardens if Ashur is blighted, begging for a cure Ashur won't take. Him standing over Ashur to defend him in the final mission, or else his devastating reaction if Ashur dies: 'It should have been me!' God, these NPCs are alive. (fun fact: I wrote most of this post, and then Sheryl Chee confirmed these two were written as being in love with each other and stupid about it. I'm so happy.)

Speaking of NPCs who love each other: Teia and Viago, my beloveds. Again, I was coming in without the supplemental material, and I was sold on them so fast. The way Viago tenderly cradles Teia from behind as they mourn Caterina. The way they're so involved in Lucanis's personal quests - they're his family, they're there for him, they love him. I love Teia's fierceness and her heart. I love their banter - so much mutual understanding, exasperation and affection mixed together. 'We know each other too well to be strangers.'

Isabela is as wonderful as she always is - I especially appreciate how her depiction in Veilguard makes it clear just how loving she is. But can we also talk about Rowan? (I don't know if she's technically considered a faction leader, but meh.) I love her poetic speech patterns; I love that she's a scholar who wrote a bunch of codex entires; I love her calm, soothing voice. I love getting to see a Rivani Seer at last. And I love how she'll suddenly turn around and say, still calm and soothing, 'Spirit of Determination: may your enemies die bitter and in pain.' Perfect, no notes.

Strife and Irelin, sadly, drew the shortest straw when it came to being fleshed out in-game. But what I do love about them is their relationships with your companions. I love the tiny detail of Irelin, Bellara's ex, helping her pack for the Lighthouse; I love how she writes to Bellara to beg her to take care of herself, because she still matters to her.

And while I am a profound Emmrook lover, I appreciate Emmrich/Strife so much too. I love their shared curiosity and sense of adventure; I love thinking that Emmrich might give Strife tenderness that his life has lacked, while Strife could help nudge Emmrich toward boldness. I love the idea of two older men who likely think love has passed them by suddenly going, oh. If the Veil Jumpers didn't get a deeper relationship with Rook, at least they got relationships with Rook's friends.

Dragon Age games always give us a fun roster of companions, but honestly? Veilguard got me invested in the non-companion NPCs more than any other game in the series. Yes, there should have been more - but what we got was so much fun.

tl;dr: Faction leaders, my beloveds.

[lavenderprose]

Emmrook Short: Rooftop Interlude

~~~

ALRIGHT well this scene doesn't fit the narrative of the fic the way I thought it would. Currently gnashing my teeth and trying to fit it in elsewhere. I'll just throw it up here in case it ends up being left on the cutting room floor. Have at it.

Emmrook | Explicit | Semi-Public shenanigans ahead

They are in Treviso, the coffee is strong and the stars are beautiful. Rook watches with an open, laughing mouth as Emmrich hangs from a zipwire and, embarrassingly, screams with both exhilaration and horror as he flies above the glass-calm surface of a dark canal.

When his feet touch on the ground, his knees immediately buckle, though they don’t hit the pavement. Rook jumps forward and angles her shoulder against his chest. His arms go reflexively around her and she laughs and laughs as his nose crashes into the top of her head. She smells of honeysuckle and sweat.

“Whoa,” she says, stumbling only a little under his greater height and weight. She pulls back just far enough to meet his eyes, grinning as she says, “Hey, you did it! It gets easier every time.”

“Oh!” he says, panting, voice gone just slightly hoarse from the hollering. “That was…oh my, that was—quite something, I’ve never—” He straightens up, laughs, swipes a hand through his hair. Rook doesn’t move away, and he’s distantly aware that she probably should—the area they’re standing in isn’t necessarily public, frequented as it is almost exclusively by Crows using the vast rooftop system to move about the city clandestinely. That said, it isn’t necessarily private either. One could easily misinterpret the sight of them standing here, panting and wrapped around each other.

Still, Rook doesn’t move. Her hands find their way up his back, curled over the angle of his shoulder blades, and Emmrich can almost feel every movement of her fingers, every creak of her joints even through the thick fabric of his greatcoat.

“Lucanis went ahead,” she says, and flicks her fringe away from her face with a small, neat movement of her head. Emmrich watches as her mouth opens, her eyelashes flutter, and her tongue wets the length of her top lip. “He was—um, worried Viago would get upset if we left him waiting too long. Also, Spite was getting antsy.”

“Ah,” Emmrich breathes. “Well, forgive me the time I delayed us. I consider myself quite athletic, mind you, but overcoming one’s dread at the idea of zipping through the air—that’s quite something else!” He barks out another laugh, because it’s the only thing he can think to do.

“You did great,” Rook says again, and shifts against him in such a way that her hip collides with the front of his trousers. It’s purely accidental, and wouldn’t affect him in the slightest under normal circumstances—he’s more than capable of controlling himself, even with the feelings she inspires in him. There is, however, a great deal of adrenalin still coursing through him, and when her body presses to his—and one of her hands finds his chest.

“I am so sorry,” he gasps, taking a full step back. He’s embarrassed, flaming with it, and unfortunately it does nothing to ease his problem. There’s a wire crossed there—he’s never taken the time to examine it.

A moue of surprise curls onto her face. “That’s—alright. No, really, it’s fine—” She makes a grab for his hand as he takes another step back, and the grip she tugs on him with is shockingly strong. When he brings himself to look closely at her face, pushing past the mortification, he finds a sheen over her eyes and a high, pink blush blooming across her cheeks. She sucks her lip into her mouth. “Um. Here—”

She pulls him away from the ledge by which they are still, bizarrely, standing. There is a very narrow crevasse between the rooftops of two buildings, less than two full feet in width, and it’s into this crevasse that she leads him. They keep going until the moonlight almost doesn’t hit them anymore, illuminating only the silky top of her tonic-lightened hair and the metal notions on her gear.

Once sufficiently deep for her liking, she turns and pushes him into a wall. He’s panting, exhilarated and just a little alarmed, and she whispers, “Emmrich. Tell me, um. Tell me to stop, and I will.” Then her small hand reaches down his front, finds the outline of his erection, and tenderly caresses the throbbing head of his cock.

“Oh,” Emmrich whimpers, head clonking back against the brick wall. All ideals of propriety he’s ever been taught demand that he tells her to stop—that he politely rebuff her advance, initiate an encounter properly, privately, or else give himself over to the silent longing that is his lot in life. He knows he should, and yet cannot bring himself to; he is weak, weak for her, and she is beautiful, warm and offering herself to him like a wrapped gift. The weight of her hand, her sweet breath against his neck—he can only welcome them.

“Sh, sh,” she whispers. “You feel good. Is that—do you like—”

“Yes,” he gasps. “Yes, that’s—” He sighs, squeezes his eyes shut. “Please, Rook—please.”

Rook gasps against the crook of his neck, wet and hot, then she’s gone. His head spins as he processes her absence, and then her hands find him again—from below, and he looks down. Amber pools, so deep he could sink into them and never surface, examine him from hip-level. Her fingers are frantic, fumbling at the buckles and ties between the air and his flesh.

Emmrich Volkarin, who is far enough into his second half-century of life that he should know better, and still young enough that the world often manages to surprise him, stutters out a single word of protest—Rook, simply her name—and then can’t bring himself to finish the thought.

“I want to,” she says instantly, clearly aware of his train of thought. “Maker, I want you in my mouth. Let me suck your cock.”

“Okay,” he squeaks. “Okay—yes—that—Rook, darling, that button is a clip—"

He is stunned, overcome and so deeply aroused that he thinks his head might just pop clean off. Rook, who seems to know this, fixes him with a look of utter desire and he knows that whatever is driving her to do this, it isn’t something he needs to save her from. He joins her fumbling and, together, they free him from his clothes. The sight of his purpled, wet cockhead next to her comely face is utterly obscene, and it almost undoes him before he has the privilege of sinking into the heat of her mouth.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells her, as she taps his cock on her chin.

“So are you,” says Rook, speaking directly to and possibly about his penis, but he can’t really hold it against her. He’s been known to appreciate the presence of a hard cock in his face, as well. The thought startles a chuckle out of him as she inches closer, settling into the task she’s chosen.

She shifts from her squat to kneel on his boots, keeping her knees out of the alley refuse, and his toes flex against the sweet, heavy burden of her weight as she takes him. Her tongue is clever, slick, twirling underneath the glans. Her eyes stay open and somehow, against all odds, his do too. Her lips are red, a perfect pucker around the veined shaft of his cock. Emmrich has always enjoyed congress in all its forms, giving and receiving, but the act of oral pleasure has always filled him with a particular mixture of shame and desire. Something about the baseness of it, the inherent submission of kneeling before someone and servicing them.

Rook doesn’t seem to do it as an act of submission, or even particularly an act of service. She gives fellatio selfishly, if that’s even a thing. Genuinely appears to enjoy it nearly as much as him; groaning around him, pressing forward until her nose is buried in the still-dark hair at the root of his cock, and fluttering her eyelids as if he can bring her to her own ecstasy simply by fucking her mouth. It would be a lie to say he hasn’t thought about this—Maker, he has, and he’ll be judged for that someday. He’s also thought about his hands on her breasts, the curve of her ass in his lap, and the way she might taste. They aren’t thoughts he’s ashamed of, necessarily, because he would never breathe a word of them to her unsolicited. He’s red-blooded, she is beautiful, and it has felt for at least some short time now that they were hurtling towards this inevitably. Nevertheless, it’s shocking that it would happen now.

He considers himself a sexual being, deeply enjoys the act of it as both a source of intimacy and relief, and seeks it out when he desires it. It has, however, been a long time since he had the time or inclination to do so. She brings him to the brink quickly, and he can hardly breathe to signal to her his impending release.

“Rook,” he gasps, a hand clutching onto the nearest part of her—which, unfortunately, is her hair. He grips a handful of it far harder than he intends to. She groans encouragingly, hands spidering up to grasp at the backs of his thighs, and he bites savagely into his gloved hand as he spills onto her tongue.

She leans over and spits, which is one of the grosser things he’s ever found erotic, and then asks, “Do you have a handkerchief?” Her voice is quiet, now with the subtlest rasp. He immediately pulls out his handkerchief and offers it in trembling fingers.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, wiping her mouth. She tucks him back into his trousers, reverse-engineering the complicated arrangement of his buckles with only a little guidance, and then briefly rests her forehead against his stomach. His toes are beginning to go numb under her weight—a minor and extremely bearable pittance.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asks, curling a finger under her chin.

“Mm-hm.” Rook tilts her head up, eyes still closed, and presses a lingering kiss to his thumb. It reminds him that they have yet to so much as kiss, despite the taste of him now lingering in her mouth. “I’m so turned on I don’t think I’ll be able to walk straight. Give me a second.”

“Ah,” Emmrich murmurs. She giggles. “If you desire some assistance in that regard, I would gladly offer it.”

“No time,” she sighs. “We were supposed to be at the Diamond ten minutes ago. Spite will know what we’ve been doing, and I’m sure he’ll tell Lucanis.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure,” Emmrich says, resting his head back against the wall. The stars are just visible between the eaves of the two roofs almost meeting each other overhead. They seem almost audible in their brightness. “Spite is more likely to smell the alley than the sex. We’ll tell him you fell in a gutter.”

“Oh, I’ve been in the gutter alright,” Rook mutters against his hip, and they share another giggle.

The meeting with the Talons is awkward. Their delayed arrival had, indeed, aggravated Viago de Riva—though Emmrich has it on good authority that this is by no means an impossible feat. Lucanis, too, fixes them with a vaguely disgruntled look. Emmrich returns it, not missing the flash of purple on the edges of Lucanis’ pupils, and can only hope that a steady, reproachful look is enough to dissuade Spite from inserting himself into the conversation. Despite his assurances to Rook, Emmrich doesn’t yet know enough about Spite to be absolutely assured that Lucanis’ demon counterpart won’t smell Rook’s breath and immediately take it upon himself to announce his knowledge of their liaison.

This, thankfully, never comes to be. Teia is predominantly amused by their obvious dishevelment, and Viago is still grateful enough to Rook for Treviso’s rescue that he lets any observations of his own pass largely unmentioned. Lucanis only says one thing as they pass through the Eluvian.

“…on your own time next time, okay?” Emmrich hears, as Rook and Lucanis emerge through the mirror behind him. He also hears Rook’s huffed laugh.

“Sure.”

Spite, emerging at last through Lucanis’ throat: “Rook. Your breath. Smells like co—”

“Ah,” Emmrich snaps, prim, because Spite responds well to firm guidelines. Misguided spirits are, after all, something of Emmrich’s specialty.

“Ugh!” Spite snaps, before fading back into obscurity behind Lucanis’ eyes.

“Well,” sighs Lucanis, rubbing his neck. “This has been…fun. I’m going home.”

Rook lets him stomp ahead through the strange brush of the Crossroads, giggling under her breath, and Emmrich ignores the stark sting of mortification on the back of his neck. When the tails of Lucanis’ cape are swaying a satisfactory ways in the distance, Emmrich slants his gaze towards her and mutters, “I think you’re amused by this, my dear.”

“They were going to find out anyway,” she sighs, and shakes a hand through her hair, falling badly now out of its pins. It’s been most of an entire day since she put them in. She pockets them as they come loose until, after a moment, her hair falls over her shoulders in a sleek, pin-straight waterfall. The shadows of her black roots are only just beginning to surface at her scalp. “We’re all living on top of each other. It’s like the Novice Watcher’s dorms all over again.”

“It was a rather, um, effective way to ensure our relationship becomes common knowledge,” Emmrich murmurs, hands twisting together as they meander after Lucanis’ rapidly retreating form. “There are Crows in Vyrantium who I’m sure will know by the end of the week. And with Spite knowing, it’s only a matter of time before—”

“I’m giving it ‘til Thursday,” Rook says, it currently being Tuesday.

“Mmm. That’s generous.”

“Emmrich.” She stops, hands buried in the pockets of her Watcher’s apron, and waits for him to wheel to face her. She’s frowning and seems to be actively engaged in the act of making herself smaller, like she’s bracing for a blow. “We don’t have to…if that was too much, just let me know. I’m not made of glass. I’ve been rejected before.”

“That,” he says, stern, “is far from what is happening here.” The idea of rejecting her after the gift of her attentions in the alley, as unwise as they may have been, makes him see red. Someone, somewhere, must have made her feel so utterly worthless at some point. Someone left her to think that her body could be taken for granted and her sexuality scorned. He should hope that individual never crosses his path on a dark night.

It’s only the intensity of his voice that seems to keep her from pursuing that line of thought. She shifts nervously, a sort of girlish uncertainty about her, and she says, “This is kind of how I am. Impulsive. I don’t always make great decisions. You should know that before this goes any further.

“Rook,” sighs Emmrich, and he closes in to grip her hands. “Do you honestly think that my sexual experiences are limited to dark bedrooms? Quite the opposite. It’s rather flattering to me that you witnessed my floundering and still desired me at all afterwards, let alone right that very moment.”

“Well.” Rook, posture loosening at last, slides her arms around his neck. “It was very sexy floundering.”

“Point being,” Emmrich murmurs, lips against the tip of her ear, “I greatly enjoyed the experience. I’ll admit to being somewhat…embarrassed, but that isn’t necessarily an undesirable consequence for something of this nature. Not for…a man such as myself.”

He waits for the meaning of his words to reach her, and that delicious shame drifts down his back when her eyes widen. “Oh. Oh.”

He clears his throat. “Yes. So, darling, you did nothing wrong…aside from make us tardy for the meeting with the Talons. I do so abhor tardiness.”

“Right. So, next time, work time into the schedule for the rooftop blowjob.”

“Congress under the stars can be so romantic,” Emmrich sighs elaborately, and he knows her confidence is done faltering when she laughs.

He wants to touch her, to feel the promised arousal between her thighs. He thinks about it on a loop as they walk back to the Lighthouse, but she begs off when they arrive.

“I’ll fall asleep on you,” she threatens.

“Not a distasteful thought,” he murmurs, hands low on her hips. He imagines easing her to sleep with swipes of his tongue—a gentle orgasm leading to a deep, dreamless slumber.

He feels her shiver. “I want to. I wish…but I have so much on my mind. Viago is concerned about Antaam movements, Davrin and I need to go speak to Antoine and Evka as soon as possible. I need to think. I need…” She sighs, rolls her eyes. “I think I need to talk to Solas.”

Of course. He’s allowed himself to forget, however briefly, that the Dread Wolf still quite literally occupies her mind. Her slumber is never truly her own, never private. He wishes now, as he often has, that they had met in the Necropolis, before the world took it upon itself to attempt to end for the third time in as many decades. Or else that he could insulated her from the burdens of her station, at least long enough for more than a furtive rooftop fuck.

When they part at the bottom of the stairs to her room, it’s almost unbearable to watch her go.

“Rook,” he says, before she opens the door. She turns to look over her shoulder, and he says, “If you need me—”

“I do,” she says, and disappears.

[heylittleriotact]

📚What I'm Reading These Days📚

A to Zenith by @allofthebarks (Solas x Female Lavellan): For my fellow Solavellan hell-dwellers, my bestie has refused to let the end of Solas and Lavellan's story get in the way of her delivering sweet, sexy angst and pining over a decade later. HELL YEAH. She's going to fuck us up emotionally 26 times, and I am ✨here✨ for it. Our friendship was built on a foundation of jointly authoring unhinged InuYasha fanfic when we were 14, she was my maid of honour, and our FFXIV characters are married, so I can very personally vouch for the quality of her work.

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal by @brain-rot-central (Ascended Astarion x Female Durge): Set post BG3. I've been absolutely entranced by this beautiful Dead Dove all year. It's so breathtakingly fucked up and disturbing. The chilling, deeply seated tension that the writer is capable of cobbling together in your gut with each chapter is nothing short of impressive. This isn't in-your-face, no punches pulled sort of depravity: it's slow burning nightmare fuel tempered with absolutely gorgeous angst, evocative characterization, and the never-ending feeling that something absolutely fucking terrible is about to happen.

Herbarium by @emmg (Emmrich Volkarin x Female Rook): COME AND GET IT EMMROOK FANS - I literally can't even with this. Somehow @emmg manages to capture the Gentleman Necromancer in all of his dorky, yapping glory, making me laugh my absolute ass off and then like... three lines later dives into the fucked up inner workings of his brain and all of it's trauma soaked angst and self-loathing and self-denial in a way that actually boggles my mind. Like it's sooooo fucking good. Rook is a fucking turbo-babe and I love her. The smut is absolutely top notch, and if you're not reading this, you're missing out, so do yourself a favour and make it happen.

Indelible Imprints by @preciouslittlebhaalbae (Astarion x Female Tav): Isekai fics are usually a tough sell for me, but @preciouslittlebhaalbae pulls it off so well with her OC, Erin, and I'm so glad I finally got a chance to get caught up on Chapter 14 recently. This is a really lovely, wholesome Astarion-centric romance with softness, pining, sweetness, spiciness and hilarity in equal measure. We're not afraid to get dark either, which really does it for me. Definitely check this out - it's amazingly written, and seeing Erin's dynamic develop with all of the Tadfools is so thoughtfully and pragmatically done. Writer also has impeccable music taste. 11/10, no notes.

[thepalehorsevictoria]

Here’s the thing I have really come to love about the EmmRook Skeleton Krewe (literally no one else calls us that, I am that weird auntie).

Emmrich fucks and makes love however we’d be down for. This is established, and celebrated. We’re all glad he’s getting it on with our Rooks. And the more the merrier because of course we want the absolute best for him. Let him fall in love, and cum, all the time, every time.

And that’s so much more chill than, like, pulling a Judge Claude Frollo on Esmeralda like it can get sometimes on the internet (and sometimes also real people).

But nah. We’re all here to sexualize that old man and we don’t mind sharing. And all of y’all’s Rooks are hot, too.

[the-bear-and-his-sunbird]

happy first thedasweekend! how about: "if you need to, darling, lean your weight on me." from the unreal unearth prompt list for emmrook?

Thank you so much for your prompt @jazzmckay for the @thedasweekend event!

I am still figuring out how to write Emmrich (although I lack the vocabulary), so this is a nice exercise. Also please note that English is not my first language and that mistakes might occur.

"If you need to, darling, lean your weight on my." is from the Song I,Carrion (Icarion). If you want to give it a listen (maybe even while you read) here is the song:

Siobhan makes him feel weightless. For his whole life, Emmrich has wished for someone to hold, to share dreams in hushed whispers in the wondrous silence of the night. An enduring affection, he called it.

Now this someone is here. Lifting his heavy heart as effortless as a feather with just one graceful curl of her lips.

No matter how lost and anxious he feels, regarding his fear of death, his pursuit of Lichdom, how much he misses his parents, as soon as she is with him he feels lighter. If only for a moment.

Her unyielding nature inspires him to rise beyond his zone of comfort. How could he fall, as long she is there to hold him up?

But soon he notices the toll it takes on her. Her shoulders bending like she is Atlas herself, slowly crumbling under the weight of it all.

Since he joined them in the Lighthouse, he has known Siobhan to refuse sleeping in her room, instead she tries to find some hidden spot to rest. Nowadays it even seems like most nights sleep seems to elude her altogether. It bends her even more, the exhaustion flowing from her body like a river from the highest Mountain pass.

As they have grown closer over time, she has often joined him in his downtime, reading in his room. Now that they are a couple Siobhan has joined even more often.

Tonight is a night like this. But this time they sat on his bed, rather than in front of the fire, Siobhans head on his chest as Emmrich reads, arms wrapped firmly around her.

Maybe this is an unknown way of metamorphosis. A cocoon for her to fall sleep in, until she is ready to be reborn with wings. To feel as weightless as he does in her presence. If only for a moment.

„Let yourself rest, my dear. Leave your sorrows for the night,“ he murmurs against her head. „If you need to, darling, lean your weight on me.“

With a sigh, he feels her relax in his arms. Soon her body rests on him, heavy as can be. Emmrich carries it.

He hopes that there will be a day where she will not carry the weight of the world anymore. When there will be merrier days and the only thing she will carry is the Grave Gold on her skin and his hand in hers.

And if everything should fall, he hopes,selfishly without being able to reason himself out of it, that she will be there with him and that somehow he will be able to bring her comfort in the wreckage of the world.

[choccy-zefirka]

Fic Author Self-Rec!!

Thank you @volkoss for tagging me! :D

The rule was to hype up five of your fics, and I am happy to oblige! LOOK AT IT

Mister Monster — Skyrim, Gen, Rated Teen and Up (mostly for some self-destructive thoughts among minors brought about by child abuse and general shitty living conditions), 1500 words

An old-ish Skyrim fic that I polished and reuploaded, describing how my vampire character uses his powers to rescue kids and thus becomes an urban legend: a monster that you have to summon/invite in if you want help. Can be read if you have minimal knowledge of Skyrim, if you don't mind the occasional name drops for fantasy races. I really like its narration style, a sort of campfire story passed on by the older kids; and for a gen fic, it did pretty well too!

Doomscrolling — Mass Effect, Shakarian (pre-relationship), Rated Teen and Up, 3,380 words

Basically, Garrus is sitting around on Omega all sad because he thinks Shepard is dead, and thinks back to some bonding moments they had.

This was my first time trying to write something for the trilogy, let alone for such a popular character/ship: I'd previously written a couple of Andromeda drabbles, as I played that game before MELE, but did not even attempt to step into ME fandom spaces, because of the game's reception. Plus, I kept hearing from friends who were in the trilogy fandom that Garrus/Shakarian fans had a reputation for being obnoxious bullies, and when I took a shine to Garrus, I immediately felt a surge of immense guilt. Those were the feelings I had to battle through while writing this story; I did, however, persevere, and am proud of the result! It also helped me discover friendly, welcoming communities of Garrus fans, full of amazing people whom I'm proud to share a blorbo with! And lastly, I peppered in a bunch of pop culture references that may seem corny but made me smile.

Passing of the Years — Dragon Age: Inquisition, Inquisitor Lavellan/Gereon Alexius (not the main focus), Rated Teen and Up, 2,090 words

A character study of Elgara Lavellan, a city elf mage who was taken from her loving community to the Circle and, after growing up there, had to be made Tranquil because she freed the demon that had been trapped in the Fade to test apprentices at Harrowings. It explores her perception of the world as she lost her emotions and then regained them thanks to the Mark, and challenges her fear that she might be too old to explore her sexuality (she was a virgin at the time of her failed Harrowing, and still remained one 20 years later). I like the repeated motifs I use in narration: the colors of a sunset, the sight and sound of cute fat little birds on a branch, the taste of berry porridge. The simple everyday things that Elgara reacts to differently depending on where she is in life. My friends, who read the fic out loud as it had been chosen for our Discord server's fic reading calls, were also deeply moved by my writing, which means a lot to me.

Hjördis Laidir's Guide to Being Fearless — Dragon Age: the Veilguard, Emmrook (at the very end if you squint), Rated Teen and Up, 925 words

Another character study, describing the thought process of Hjördis, a young Lord of Fortune who projects a daring pirate persona in order to mask the fact that she's terrified of a lot of things. She tries to act impulsive before her anxious brain catches up to her, which eventually leads to her flirting with Emmrich in order to silence her fear of necromancy (given that she was a street urchin adopted in Kirkwall by Hawkemeribela, and her only other point of reference for necromancers is Quentin). This one is maybe not of a particular interest to my fellow fans, as with both BG3 and Veilguard, I have noticed a shift to blank-slate protagonists or reader inserts (which are very tricky to write for me, and I applaud anyone who does!). But I personally like being in Hjördis' head, she's such a mess masquerading as a storybook adventurer. The Flynn Ryder to Emmrich's Rapunzel, if you will.

A Trifle — Dragon Age: Inquisition, Gen, Rated General Audiences, 1,376 words

A little scene where Alexius, now assigned by the Inquisitor to work for Fiona, befriends a bunch of mage kids and begrudgingly slips back into his half-forgotten teacher persona. Also there's a cute cat.

I usually write about Alexius' redemption arc in the context of his Enemies to Lovers romance with the a specific Inquisitor, so it was fun to create a general hc/scenario that might fit anywhere, including in my friends' worldstates (should they share my Alexius woobification vision). It's a bit adjacent to blank slate protagonist fics, so a fun challenge for my OC-pilled brain :D

Thanks to everyone who reads this post (and gentle forehead kissies if you decide to follow the links).

I tag @druckkugelschreiber , @whiskynorocks , @bearlytolerant , @sky-scribbles and @lazyadmiral

[sunny374940]

Fic masterpost

Hello, I'm sunny and I write. I started out writing emmrook (am NOT finished though) and now there is even an original story taking shape).

This here is a list of all my stories so far, for anyone who wants to read them. I love chatting with people who leave comments <3.

My ao3 is Sunny_Under_Mountain

The latest emmrook story is up here, the rest (and boy, is there a lot) under the cut.

Alone with you (chapter 2/?) - Emmrich and Rook leave for their honeymoon and have a nice time. There are flowers and sex, and swimming lessons and wildlife encounters and who knows what else future holds

Damn Sky Whales (ch.3/?) - my very first original story (there is romance, much pining and adventure).

Summary as follows: Fern is a half-elven researcher, who is trying to figure out why dragons are disappearing. He gets assigned a bodyguard, whom he doesn't at all need, doesn't want him, surely. Until he does find himself wanting him. A lot. Gareth, for his part, is a former mercenary turned bodyguard, who is just trying to make a living in a world where elves call the shots. He is a professional and is very definitely not going to fall for his client.

A Unicorn's Children - set in the Damn Sky Whales world, the chronicles of Pointy the Unicorn

Multi-chapter works (links go to first chapter):

Alone with you (chapter 2/?) - Emmrich and Rook leave for their honeymoon and have a nice time. There are flowers and sex, and swimming lessons and wildlife encounters and who knows what else future holds

May I have this dance (chapters 2/2) - Emmrich and Rook attend a ball and Rook hates it. Until he doesn't. cw: short mention of sexual harrasment, lots of consensual gay sex in the second chapter

I will be waiting with open arms (chapters 3/3) - Emmrich dies at the age of ninety seven and Rook, who is seventy two now, receives one last letter from his love and then they get reunited in the afterlife (bring your tissues to read this one)

Did you hit your head? (chapters 2/2) - a fun little story about Rook and Emmrich pining and Davrin and Assan being the best wingmen

Love and (almost) loss (series):

Our love is not to be hidden - Rook gets badly injured and Emmrich has to deal with his feelings for him

I fall apart without you - Emmrich has a nightmare about losing Rook, hurt/comfort

I will stay with you through all of this - hurt/comfort, little bit of gore at the start. Emmrich almost dies in the process of saving Rook, who is quite upset about this.

Happiness is a noise you make (series):

The sound of your happiness warms my heart - fluff. Emmrich finds out Rook can purr.

Let me hear your joy again - fluff. Rook receives a gift from Emmrich

The family we've found (series): stories about Emmrich and Rook raising their daughter Elanora

Orphans and foundlings - a little story about Rook and Emmrich getting a baby. Fluff, tiny bit of angst

You are safe with me - babywearing Emmrich. Just pure self-indulgent fluff

I missed you, little brother - Rook has a twin sister, Willow, and here she meets the little family for the first time.

Sleepless nights - Emmrich and Rook comfort a crying baby

Being a father - Emmrich worries about fatherhood, fluff and angst

When I see your light shine, I know I'm home - fluff. Emmrich and Rook get married, the whole gang is here and it's so very sappy

I will teach you all I know - fluff. Emmrich learns that his daughter Elanora is a mage

Your happiness is all I need - fluff, humor. Emmrich’s daughter is not a morning person, Emmrich has to deal

Have you learned your lesson, darlings? - fluff. Emmrich enjoys the snow with his family. There is a snowball fight.

Love is enough (series): here we follow Rook and Emmrich during the events of Fade Prison and afterwards. There's a lot of hurt and also a lot of comfort.

Nothing will keep you from me - saving Rook from the Fade prison

Don't leave me, please - what Rook was going through in the Fade prison (a lot)

May I kiss you? - Rook is not doing well in the aftermath of Fade Prison and Emmrich wants so badly to help him, but he keeps getting pushed away (angst with happy ending)

I have my moments, darling - Emmrich gets revenge at Solas for hurting Rook in the Fade Prison. It's glorious.

The smut (not a series):

Tell me I'm yours - Rook has a praise kink

Let me take care of you - a little bondage, some feelings. Rook is angry and tries to pick a fight with Emmrich

There is nothing I want more than you - Rook wants Emmrich's attention and he gets it

Is that a new shirt? - Rook wears a crop top and Emmrich is very much into it

Patience, darling - Emmrich makes Rook wait for what he wants.

Why don't we try something new? - Rook wants to try topping Emmrich for the first time and it goes quite well

I would like to make you blush, if I may - Rook is a bit inexperienced and flustered at just about everything. A blowjob happens

Let me show you how beautiful you are - Emmrich is insecure about his looks and Rook shows him how much he adores him.

The hurt/comfort (also not a series):

Don't do that again - Emmrich gets sick, Rook gets worried

You are worth any danger, love - Emmrich gets caught in a building collapse and almost dies, Rook comes to his aid.

Feeling better, darling? - Emmrich helps Rook through a migraine

I will rip the world apart for you - cw: gore, torture. Rook gets captured by the Venatori and Emmrich comes to the rescue

Assorted fluff:

Adventures in baking - Rook wants to impress Emmrich by baking him cookies, but things don't go according to plan

I am yours - Rook gives Emmrich flowers.

Love is stored in the hat - domestic fluff about first snow and gifts

[nadas-dirthalen]

Okay so I just wanna gush a bit here.

I think the only problem I had with Veilguard was that I couldn't get enough of it. Like I would love to see more, more missions, more story. I would have loved to see various things that were either hinted at or just straight up not even addressed. (Mind you I've only played the games and listened to Vows and Vengeance on Spotify, so maybe it's mentioned in some other media that I haven't gotten to yet.)

Something I would love to have seen was the companions side of things after Tearstone Island, like how did all your companions react to the events that took place there? How did they make a perfect replica of Solas' dagger? Where did they go to pull Rook out? What kind of inner turmoil was each of them dealing with in Rook's absence? Especially for whoever you romanced leading up to that point if they're still there and not dead or MIA. For example: Emmrich, before Tearstone Island you have that argument with him that ends with both sides angry. And when he tries to approach Rook to apologize Rook responds with "we'll talk about it when we get home, I promise." A promise that is almost immediately broken once Rook gets trapped in the Fade. How does Emmrich react to that and the events leading up yo yhat I wonder? Gah! Just so many questions just for that scenario alone.

One of the many things I absolutely loved was the option to make your character transgender. I thought it was absolutely wonderful, I felt like I was finally able to see myself represented in a game without having to make up my own head cannon about my gender identity. It was so validating to me. I loved Krem in DAI because his story is similar to my own irl. So when Bioware made that an option I had to pause for a bit because I was crying so much from sheer joy and happiness. And then I cried all over again during a lot of the special dialog options if you made your character trans/nonbinary. Especially when I was romancing Emmrich. When he said "I believe there's nothing so attractive as someone who's found himself" I not only fell more in love with this character but I was both happy and sad about it. Happy that there was such a beautifully written line of dialog for it, but also sad that I fear that I don't think I'll ever be able to find someone who would be willing to love me for who I am now that I've become a man. We live in a world these days where folks are so hung up on what's in your pants than what's in your heart. And I felt that with not just Emmrich, but a lot of the characters in this game.

These are just a few of the things that make me keep playing this game over and over (at the time of writing this I'm on playthrough number 7 because I have no life lol). It's even motivated me to create. I've made some little magnets of the different faction logos, but I've also been writing my first fanfic! It's about my EmmRook pairing and some of the silliness that I loved about romancing him. If you ever get around to reading it it's called The Reunion. I'm still in the process of writing more chapters but there's 4 up already.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61358677/chapters/156834322

Anyway thanks for letting me ramble on and gush for a bit. 🥰💚

Oooo, thank you for sharing so much of your joy!!!

Something I would love to have seen was the companions side of things after Tearstone Island, like how did all your companions react to the events that took place there? How did they make a perfect replica of Solas' dagger? Where did they go to pull Rook out? What kind of inner turmoil was each of them dealing with in Rook's absence?

I'm working on it. :) The problem with writing codices is you've got to write so MANY, to account for all the differences between choices Rook could've made! But I am working on bringing that moment to life in codices. One day.

For now... that's the beauty of fanfiction, to me!

One of the many things I absolutely loved was the option to make your character transgender.

SAAAAAAME. Even though I did not make a trans Rook (I write nonbinary protagonists in my original fiction, and frankly I am exhausted with the singular 'they' in the English language—I love that it exists, but I am TIRED of writing around it so that it's not confused with plural they/them!), I appreciate IMMENSELY that trans and nonbinary identities are a big part of the world of Thedas now, and in terminology that does not let bigots diminish/dismiss their usage.

I am so, so happy that you, me, and many others now feel so seen in the world of Thedas. <3 A tremendous thank-you to everyone at BioWare responsible for seeing that development through.

It's even motivated me to create. I've made some little magnets of the different faction logos, but I've also been writing my first fanfic!

Between my DMs and asks, you are the fifth person to say this to just me today, and that is AMAZING!!! I am so, so happy that Dragon Age, and specifically Veilguard, is reigniting the spark in so many creative hearts. Truly, that brings me so much more joy than I expected even when I invited you guys to send me asks in the first place. <3

And I've taken a peek at your fanfic and left kudos! I don't have time to read tonight, but have bookmarked for later. <3

[veilkeeper]

would love love LOVE to hear more about the emmrook 5+1!!

@lilac-lich also wanted to know about this, the people are BANGING ON MY FRONT DOOR!!!

the emmrook 5+1 is a silly little idea where it's basically, "5 times emmrich pulled back and 1 time he didn't." basically, i wanted to explore emmrich and corentin's relationship from the lens of all the times corentin is fully bought in but emmrich is still hesitant for various reasons (eventually culminating in, of course, lich porn, because i am only human).

snippet (EXTREMELY hard to pick just one moment because i have 3 full scenes written for this shshs):

"You look busy." Rook seems uncharacteristically deflated as he says it, big brown eyes focused on Emmrich's desk, taking in the numerous open books scattered about. "Unfortunately so, dearest," Emmrich replies, heart breaking slightly at the way Rook pouts. "I'm penning a rather urgent letter in response to a colleague's query." Despite his answer, Rook pads across the room anyways, stepping behind Emmrich's chair and placing both hands on his shoulders. A slightly callused finger traces along the top of his collar and sends a shiver down his spine, before Rook leans forward, sliding his hands down along Emmrich's chest. "How urgent?" Rook asks, his lips ghosting over Emmrich's ear. "Quite," Emmrich breathes. He places his pen down gingerly, careful not to let any ink splatter, before he leans back, reaching up to brush the backs of his fingers along Rook's cheek apologetically. "Perhaps you could come back later? Surely one of the others would be glad for your company until I'm finished." The dissatisfied huff he gets in response is supremely uncharacteristic, made more shocking by the sharp turn from how solicitous Rook had been just a moment before. "Fine." He pulls away quickly, the sudden lack of contact leaving Emmrich comparatively cold, and starts for the door. "Corentin," he sighs, getting to his feet quickly so he can catch Rook by the wrist. A gentle hold, more of a request than a demand, but it's enough to make Rook turn back to him, half-pouting and half-scowling as he looks up at Emmrich. "Darling, tell me what's wrong." "You're busy." He replies, unhelpfully. Emmrich lifts a brow expectantly, and after a short moment of silence, Rook cracks, swaying forward to drop his forehead into Emmrich's collarbone. "Bellara's talking to the archive spirit, and his voice is super annoying. But everyone else is already asleep, and it's so quiet here because it's the Fade." It clicks, and Emmrich can't help but wrap his arms around his lover and hug him close. "Oh, my dear, do you need help falling asleep?"