#Vorgoth my beloved

[nostalgiaclown]

hey so german vorgoth is on another level

[mossbirdreigns]

making friends and enemies across thedas

the adventures of vivi continue! today i did quite a lot! had a little friend date in dock town with neve, met davrin and had a little friend date with him and assan, went to the necropolis for the first time, and even fended off a dragon somehow!

(p.s. i chose minrathous cause vivi's a shadow dragon and lucanis actually broke my heart)

[silens-oro]

give me 3 of these lil black mist baddies

[enormousgrapefruit]

meeting VORGOTH for the first time

[wispwatched]

I'm out here scrambling and scratching at the corners of my skull tryina figure out how the hell Duncan could possibly exist in veilguard's time ouughh I miss that old man

[quinnigallagherjones]

as this year comes to a close i wanted to make a post to thank all my mutuals for being here for me !!!!! whether you have been here for years, or you are a recent mutual, i want to say thank you for being here and showing me kindness !!!!! i appreciate you all so much and i am sending you so much love and happiness for 2025 !!!!! with all that being said, i hope to see all of you on this silly little website next year !!!!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

special mention to these beloved mutuals:

@queenofthekings @darlingboydiaz @girldadbuckley @aaronstveit @shortnsweetgf @jinxviolets @benoitblanc @novampiresremain @joekeerys @billhaders @swkywalker @vorgoths @eddie-kaspjack @eohwyyn @leviiackrman @kinglegolas @hazardsoflove @waddinghamhannah @notebookmusical @miwtual @sriya-lenka @maygrantgf @hyacinth--girl @chronicowboy @danielsousa @vinnymauro @ncutii-gatwa @luthientinuvielss @malkinse @chronic-invisibility @doyelikehaggis @daisyjohnsn @lonelychicago @doctorkinney @fridayplacebo @abigaillazaar @sunsetcurveauto @whichcouldmeanothing @kahhorri @rii-chann

[aldisobey]

Nascent Blight

AO3 Link

This is the best starting point for Lich Emmrook fic I'm working on. Mostly inspired by the in game note found after Emmrich becomes a lich. Partially inspired by a 'make him worse' trope. Questions and angst surrounding the transition to Lich life with the beginning whispers of things better left alone.

Setting: A few days after the Lich ritual

Pairing: Rook Thorne x Emmrich Volkarin

Rating: T - I mean the note in game is macabre

Words: 1382

Rook wandered the upper floor of Emmrich’s study. The scratch of a pen sounded softly below. He took a moment to lean over the bannister and peer down, a soft smile teasing the edge of his lips at the sight of the necromancer.

“Nearly finished, dearest.” Emmrich’s tone carried the hint of an echo, his glowing skeletal gaze kept locked to the documents at hand.

Rook nodded in reply, skin prickling.

A mere glance and Emmrich felt it. Rook had been testing the theory in the days since the ritual. He was sure of it now, Emmrich could sense some change in the shift of awareness surrounding him. Was the light in the hollow skull for show? How did he…Rook shook his head, chewed at his cheek to chase off rumination.

“If you’re in need of distraction, we have some new letters.”

Rook blinked, was he reading minds now too? Brow furrowed at the thought he drummed the banister before taking leave and wandered to the desk near at hand. He smirked at the neat stack of papers, no need to ask where they might be, his beloved was precise in all things. A corner of that crooked smile remained until he picked up the first one.

Dear Professor Volkarin,

Your preserved heart, liver, lungs, and other diverse organs have been stored in this urn, as requested.

Vorgoth and I hope that it will serve as a treasured memento in your many years to come.

With warm regards,

Watcher Myrna, Keeper of the Seals

Rook’s face fell, throat burning as he attempted to keep the gathering saliva down. So that was? Gut twisting he shifted only his eyes to look at the urn that had escaped notice. He had seen so many like it. It wouldn’t be out of place here…but this was? He dropped the letter in a hurried lurch towards the window, hand flying to cover his mouth. Rook flailed, then grasped the banister white-knuckled. He pulled himself towards the window, steadied with a lean and breathed deep.

“Rook?!” Emmrich’s voice echoed with concern from below and was punctuated by the clatter of his chair.

The immediate need to retch overcome, Rook rode out the following ebbs of nausea by closing his eyes and sticking his head out into the Fade. Listened to the quick thump of Emmrich’s footsteps on the stairs as he focused on controlling his breathing.

“I’m fine.” eyes still closed, he heard the steps drawing closer, “You don’t need to trouble yourself, it’s almost passed.” The nausea had lessened, he sniffed, the air had a subtle shift, it tasted different somehow. It was pleasant, almost, peppermint? Rook opened his eyes and turned to see Emmrich not far behind him, a whisper of green dancing on the necromancer’s fingers.

“Thank you Emmrich, it was, I was, just surprised is all. It’s lovely. A fine. Memorial?”

“Darling.” Emmrich’s tone shook with grief Rook could feel burn into his chest, it overrode the sickness for a moment, and he sighed into a lean towards Emmrich’s waiting hands. Once in their grasp they set to massaging him, touching light and tracing on the neck, firm down the back and circling up.

“I’m sorry. That reaction wasn’t ideal.” Rook swallowed hard, eased into Emmrich’s attentions, and tried to ignore the sense of twisting regret in his stomach. “I didn’t expect the shock.”

“Please, my love,” Rook shivered as the skull’s echoing words went deep, “I should have considered how you might take such a keepsake given your discrepancies.” His hands gripped Rook’s shoulders a last time, then gently turned him around to look in his eyes.

“It was a foolish lack of thought.” Emmrich grumbled at himself, and then nodded his head towards the urn, “Truth be told. With everything else requiring our attention it had escaped mine at the moment.” He took a step apart and dipped his head, “Accept my apologies, I’ll have it stored elsewhere until…” Emmrich’s voice quaked, the sentence snapping into silence at the horror of uttering that future.

For the barest second Rook grimaced, heart pounding at that reality, but he forced out a smile and pursed air from his lips, “Don’t. Keep it where you like, it’s growing on me.” He touched Emmrich’s arm a moment, leaned closer, the shock of Emmrich's organs in a jar had passed. Looming horror remained, but that was something he could laugh with. Now his concern was for the despondent lich in front of him.

He reached out and grasped Emmrich’s shoulders, leaned down and crooked his head to catch the green flare still staring at the ground. Once he captured it with a soft stare he slowly lifted Emmrich’s gaze by standing up straight himself.

“There we go.” Rook grinned and squeezed where held.

Emmrich’s head still dipped, locked now on Rook’s face.

“Can you preserve blighted organs? I could get a matching jar, would it be different since I’m not a lich?” Rook mumbled, melting under the flickering green. Emmrich kept silent, subtle movements testament to his attentiveness and portraying worry. Rook let go and dusted where his hands had been. Withdrawing them to himself he scratched at his neck, “Or, I know you can’t blight the undead, stupid question, but can you undead the blighted?”

Emmrich’s jaw dropped a hair’s breadth, had he lungs to fill he’d have gasped, but silence hung between them as the mind raced for any possible answer. Rook carried on, words tumbling,

“I thought about it. If it’s possible I’d like that. The Nevarran options, that is. You don’t have to burn me alright? I do have questions.” He paused, wondering what to emphasis first, he wanted to let Emmrich know it’d be alright, he could grow fond of an urn, and he’d leave what he could in the hopes it might help mend his absence. Maybe a wisp would like his skull, barring blight restrictions. Before he could continue the thoughts out loud he was drawn into a tight embrace. The movements were familiar, the action comforting as he sank into Emmrich. He lay his cheek against the lich's sternum, but he couldn't fully relax, couldn't close his eyes now that they'd swept over the urn mere feet away. 

“Rook, dearest. Thank you.” Emmrich held Rook tight, attempted to ward away the approaching tremble.

The Warden heard not a word. The stillness beneath his cheek was new. The silence deafening. It was there. His eyes locked tight on the jar. Right there.

Emmrich lessened the pressure, leaned back to take in more of him, Rook moved his head in turn, looked long into the etheric flame meeting him. The lich crooked his head at the sight, the movement soft and concerned, then raised his thumb to wipe clear the edge of the Warden’s shining eye, “I’ll answer any of your questions.”

Emmrich could feel Rook shudder in his arms. The man was still smiling, oblivious to the panic plain on his face. Emmrich kept a firm hold and spoke slow, “First, I need you to…”

“Can non mages do this lich thing?” Rook interjected with a shaky grin, his voice hushed from the startlingly short breath. He ignored the welling in his eyes. Obviously he was joking, it was more of a dream than anything. But who better to entrust dreams to?

“Oh, my love.”

It was a rhetorical question at best. A joke in reality. Why did the agony in Emmrich’s response make that deep ache past his chest? Everything burned, lungs and throat tight. This wasn’t the time. All of this was fine. Steadying breaths. He was a Grey Warden after all. He lived content with dying since drinking from that cup.

But no matter the reasoning of his thoughts, he couldn’t stop the shaking of his hands. So that route was hopeless. He swallowed hard, then…maybe?

“You know, that Warden, Isseya,” Rook didn’t get the chance to finish any further thought. He was suddenly devoid of Emmrich’s touch, the lich had jolted, reacted as if burned and turned his entire body away while bellowing a firm.

“No.”

Rook flinched as if struck, he’d never heard such a harsh tone from Emmrich. But there was something underneath, something desperate. Pleading.

Don’t breathe the thought.

[felassan]

DA:TV spoilers/long post under cut. This post is a continuation of [this post], [this post] and [this post].

Another new Dalish clan name dropped, clan Nuvenis. :) Bellara says that she thinks Nuvenis are a clan that wander Ferelden. And another Sabrae clan reference! In the next dialogue line, Harding says of Sabrae,

"Oh, yeah! The Sabrae clan would show up occasionally to trade in my village." [in the Hinterlands]

Dumat's Toad maybe? 👁️ (see prev posts)

Cassandra Pentaghast, My Lady Paladin, My Everything, My Moon and Stars reference..🥺 I'm sorry to learn that her uncle Vestalus has died in the years since we last saw her. q.q

Lucanis discusses Zevran Arainai.

A carved rocking griffon undoubtedly made by Thom Rainier.

I liked that the information on how the Blight has been affecting and dealt with in Ferelden contained info on the Avvar and the Chasind as well as the Lowland Fereldans.

I wonder who leads the Marcher host. Acting Viscount Aveline? Prince Sebastian?

read in the meta sense, the "precious few" are our handful of beloved protagonists :')

The Formless One texts like Kai Leng

help, Antoine and Evka are so cute

These two missives are written by Vorgoth right? Vorgoth's subtitles has their words in capitals.

I was like oh! Elio Andante? for a moment til I remembered Veil Jumper Elio hh.

This is Bellara speaking when she's fixing the Lighthouse eluvian. unexpected Garrus Mass Effect.

No comment here other than this codex was rly funny :)

[heylittleriotact]

To Die as Lovers May - Chapter 2

A year after the defeat of the Elvhen gods and the salvation of Thedas, Emmrich and Amina are engaged and living happily in the Necropolis, serving the Watch and planning their upcoming wedding. All is well in their respective worlds until they stumble upon an ancient monster deep in the Necropolis, and Amina begins to feel unwell. Thus begins their adventure to find a cure for vampirism - all while juggling the new day-to-day reality of Amina's condition, and Emmrich's own struggle with the fact that his beloved has been unwittingly granted the immortality he has longed for his entire life - and she wants nothing more than to relinquish it.

Let's lean hard into gothic romance, shall we? We're talking dark, sexy, moody, and beautiful. These two were made for it.

“Are you quite certain you’re feeling all right, darling? You’ve barely touched your dinner.” 

Amina nudged a chunk of roasted sweet potato on her plate with her fork. “Hm? Oh, yes I’m fine, Emmrich. Just a little tired. I feel much better though now, thanks to you.” 

Emmrich wasted no time ordering Amina out of her armour and onto their bed when they returned to their apartment. As much as the idea of being told to strip down and get into bed by Emmrich was traditionally one that made her stomach flutter, in this case she rather sulkily obeyed, pouting the entire time she peeled off her armour and Emmrich fetched his kit of medical supplies. 

The gash on her head posed no trouble to him, nor did the large bruise that had begun darkening the left side of her face. The bite wound on her neck, however, turned out to be curiously resistant to healing. Emmrich had said he’d never seen a wound like it before, and was only able to heal it halfway before he needed to rest for a time. 

Amina knew he was trying to appear studiously unperturbed by the mysterious nature of the injury in an attempt to save her from worrying, but she knew Emmrich - knew that furrowed gaze and the way his mouth quirked to the right when he was completely tangled up in something. He’d insisted on checking on it no fewer than three times as they prepared dinner together, lifting the square of dressing he’d placed over it to keep the open wound clean and surveying it for any signs of improvement - or deterioration. 

He posited that it was possible the teeth or saliva of creature they’d fought in the catacombs possessed venomous qualities designed to inhibit the healing process, and once again asked Amina if he could please just take her to the infirmary and have a matron look her over to put his mind at ease. 

The rest under the cut or on ao3

‘I’m not hauling my sore bones all the way to the infirmary to be told to strip down, wait in a cramped room for an hour in my smalls, and then told that I’m having a slight reaction but I’ll be fine with a good night’s sleep and plenty of fluids,’ she’d argued. ’If it gets worse overnight, I’ll stop in and see someone on our way back from our chat with Myrna and Vorgoth tomorrow.’

She didn’t like saying no to him, especially after the nearly disastrous outcome of their venture to the lower levels, but she wanted to take the evening to lick her wounds in private before facing the surely embarrassing quantity of questions Myrna would have, and the inevitably astute suggestion from Vorgoth that their close call could have been avoided had proper protocol been followed in the first place. You know… like she wasn’t Amina Ingellvar, the Watcher that was temporarily exiled from the order that other time for refusing to follow the strictly enforced procedures of the Mourn Watch.

He agreed - grudgingly - but only on the condition that Amina alert him if she felt anything out of the norm. 

She swirled her glass of wine and took a sip of the garnet vintage, wrinkling her nose as it washed over her tongue, a biting, vinegary taste lingering and then morphing into something eggy and sulfurous after she swallowed. “I think this wine is corked, does it taste off to you?” 

Emmrich frowned at his own glass and took a sip, let the wine play over his tongue, swallowed, and said, “It tastes fine to me, dear.” 

“Really? Perhaps I’m just not in the mood for wine after today.” She slid the glass away from herself, unable to get the bitter scent of it out of her nose: it smelled as bad as it tasted - how was Emmrich enjoying this?

They finished dinner in lethargic silence - it wasn’t tense or awkward: sometimes they just didn’t have anything to talk about and no call to fill the emptiness with forced conversation. It spoke to the ease of their partnership: the ability to just exist in the same space together without feeling compelled to fill the space for the sake of filling it. 

She excused herself from the table to draw a bath. “I’ll clear away the dishes later, love. I just need a hot soak to ward off the chill of being so deep today.” 

It was widely accepted that the Necropolis had a tendency to steal the warmth from your very bones the further you plunged into its incalculable levels - nothing about the cold that dogged her since they returned home was particularly out of place, but she longed for the comforting heat of water scented with relaxing oils, and the soothing caress of steam curling around her face as she inhaled the warm humid air that would thaw her from the inside out. She’d cleaned the gore from her face and hair earlier, but the horror of what they’d encountered still clung to her, hanging around her head like a miasma. 

“Would you care for company, dear?” It wasn’t that he wasn’t genuinely interested in joining her, she knew that - but he was almost certainly asking in this case because he wanted to keep his eyes on her.

“No, no - just make yourself comfortable, love. I’m sure Manfred would like to tell you all about his day. Why don’t you go check in on him?” He was currently in his room, studying, but Amina knew their skeletal ward was chomping at the bit to tell Emmrich everything he’d learned that day - he had been so worried about Amina that he hadn’t had his regular end-of-day chat with Manfred, and she would hate for the lad to feel neglected.

Her fingers tightened on the back of her chair when her vision went hazy and she felt strangely disconnected from herself. 

“Darling?” Emmrich’s voice was distant, as though he was speaking to her through a wall.

“I’m fine.” Her vision cleared and feeling returned to her, but she felt colder still than she had moments earlier: she could feel her skin prickling with goose flesh. “Just stood up too quickly.” She smiled at Emmrich in an attempt to reassure him. “Please stop fretting, love. It’s been a long day for both of us: you need to relax too.” 

His mouth opened, closed, opened again. “Yes, dear, but—“

“‘Yes dear’ — that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” She rounded the small ebony dining table and took his face in her hands, standing on her toes and brushing her lips against the tip of his nose before kissing him properly - deeply. “Leave the dishes - I’ll see to them after, and then perhaps if you’re still up for it and aren’t too upset with me, we can turn our minds to my earlier suggestion…” Her hand drifted from his smooth cheek and skimmed down between them coming to rest between his legs to underscore her implication. 

He made a soft, muffled sound and his fingers wrapped around her wrist as his other hand squeezed a handful of her rear. He stooped slightly, bringing his lips close to her ear so she could clearly hear him when he whispered, “We shall have to see about that, won’t we? You have been rather naughty today…”

Amina let out a small squeak at the innuendo laced through his tone; the heat of his breath as it danced over her chilled ear; and the awareness of him beginning to harden under her hand. 

“Dammit Emmrich,” she breathed, massaging him through his pants, eyes locked on his, noting the sly, clever smile playing around his lips. 

“Go have your bath, dearest, and we’ll discuss your proposition afterwards.” He pulled her hand away from his crotch and maneuvered her around so she was facing the hallway. “Off you go,” he bid her with a firm swat to her backside. 

“I won’t be long,” she promised, looking over her shoulder at him as she exited the dining room. She reappeared around the doorframe a moment after walking through it. “I love you, Emmrich.”

Oh and how she meant it. He looked so perfectly wonderful standing there by the dining table, his eyes soft and affectionate, his cock half-hard, bulging through his trousers as he scooped up his wine glass and drained it, his Adam’s Apple bobbing.

“I love you too, dear. Take as long as you need - I’m not going anywhere.” 

She shivered in the bathwater, turning the image of the horror they had fought in the tomb over in her mind.

She’d never seen anything like it - never fought anything like it. It wasn’t darkspawn, it wasn’t a maligned spirit given physical form; nor was it a possessed corpse. 

It had no aura.

Everything had an aura, right down to the little snails - no bigger than an apple seed - that lived on the sides of the rocks of the little stream that ran behind Reda’s house. 

That thing though… it was surrounded by blatant, vacuous nothing. Sheer entropy. As though what aura it might have had was gobbled up by its existence alone.

And Emmrich was just as baffled by it as she was. He knew things about the Necropolis, history and secrets he had literally filled books with. How could it be that he hadn’t even heard so much as a whisper of the existence of such a creature in all his years of communing with the dead? 

Her stomach grumbled insistently under the water, and a pang of hunger followed: she hadn’t finished her dinner. Sweet peppers stuffed with beans and rice was her favourite comfort meal, and Emmrich’s spiced, roasted sweet potato was a household staple, but she couldn’t bring herself to clear her plate tonight, and the few bites she’d had weren’t sitting well in her belly. Too tired, she supposed, for such a rich meal. She'd pay for it in the morning when she woke, shaky and sluggish… especially after the amount of energy she’d expended today. 

Perhaps she’d snack on some veggies and nuts before bed to tide herself over till morning, but first…

She bent her knees and slid her back further down into the black marble bathtub, submerging herself deeper into the heat of the nearly scalding water as she tried to ward the annoyingly persistent chill from her marrow - it wasn’t usually so difficult to warm up after a day in the lower levels. Perhaps she was fighting off the beginnings of a bout of sickness - that was the last thing she needed: Emmrich having kittens over achy muscles and a runny nose. 

It wasn’t that she resented him for his concern for her wellbeing - she loved it, actually: he had a way of making her feel seen and valued that no one else ever had - but at times she suspected that he used his seemingly boundless compassion for others as a bulwark to shield himself from facing the realities of his own fears and insecurities. An effective solution, really: one couldn’t be expected to confront their own problems when they were endlessly occupied with altruistically shouldering the burdens of others who were also struggling…

Despite this suspicion, he was well within his rights to be cross with her after the events of the day, likely because he knew just as well as she that had she possessed the ability to do so, she would have disabled those wards on her own the day before and encountered that thing by herself, and the odds of her surviving alone wouldn’t have been nearly as good as her surviving with Emmrich.

She drew a deep breath and clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. Steam wafted over the surface of the lavender scented water, but she still felt so bloody cold…

If she was getting sick she was going to be furious - she didn’t have time right now to be laid up in bed for days. She had work to do, a wedding to plan… a fiancé to make love to. They were going on that trip to Orlais, and they had hired a dancing instructor because Amina wanted to learn how to waltz properly for their first dance, and she had a dress fitting next week, and - and, and, and…

She cursed softly and dragged her wet hands through her damp hair, startling herself with how warm they felt against her forehead and her scalp after being submerged for as long as they had. She pressed her palms to her cheeks and frowned at the curious sensation of her body parts being so intensely different in temperature. 

She heaved a sigh, acknowledging the growing tightness in her chest, and the feeling of her heart beginning to race, pumping aggressively to circulate blood through her circulatory system and fight off whatever illness was coursing through her veins. 

“I’m definitely getting sick,” she murmured to nobody, disappointment weighing down each word. “Just my luck.” She toed the brass faucet and hot water began flowing from the tap again as she slipped further into the water, leaving only her face above the surface now as water rushed into the tub and her straight black hair drifted whimsically around her head making her look like a nymph from a fairytale, wild and free. 

Her stomach made another protestation that she could feel but not hear over the sound of the water, and she closed her eyes, giving herself to the peace of her surroundings and quiet, empty thoughts. 

He’d never lived with a partner before Amina, but they had combined their lives with nearly effortless ease following the defeat of Elgar’nan and their return to the Necropolis. 

They meshed well into one another’s space and routines, encountering very little friction in the initial weeks of acclimating to their new arrangement. 

Because of this, Emmrich didn’t feel pressed to check in on Amina during her bath: he picked up early on that the time she spent in the bath was not solely to maintain good personal hygiene, but it was akin to a ritual - sacrosanct and deliberate - where she recalibrated her balance and grounded herself, washing away the filth and grime that clung to her soul after she opened herself to the brutal and jarring emotions that she drew upon to channel her powers as a Reaper. 

Also, she liked to smell nice.

It was her space - her time. For him to impose himself upon it would be unkind. 

So he caught up with Manfred for the better part of an hour as Amina had suggested, sitting on a stool beside him in his bedroom and listening patiently as Manfred read back his notes on Transversal Atmospheric Anomalies, unable to keep the beaming pride from his face as his - their - ward recited what he had written himself today with only occasional assistance from Emmrich in matters of pronunciation. He had come so far in such a short time: it was remarkable that just over a year earlier he had begun to speak, and now he could carry on proper - albeit brief - conversations. Every day he learned more, became a bit more… surprised Emmrich more than he thought possible. 

“Where’s Rook?” He looked from his untidily scrawled notes - penmanship was an ongoing study - to Emmrich, his ever-grinning visage curious and benign.

“She’s having a bath. Now, I see you’ve written ‘unbalanse’ here when you clearly intended to write ‘imbalance’ - so let’s try and spell it out together shall we—?”

But Manfred was no longer paying attention to his notes: he was looking over Emmrich’s shoulder, into the hallway. 

“Puddle!” He exclaimed giddily, pointing a gloved finger. “Inside-rain!” 

“Dear me, Manfred - you didn’t make it rain in the house again, did you?” Emmrich twisted in his seat to look at where Manfred was pointing, fully prepared to lecture the neophyte mage once more on the discretion one must use when utilizing elemental magicks indoors, but the words died in his throat at the sight of the slowly spreading pool of water seeping from under the closed door of the bathroom, advancing over the dark wooden floor. “Stay here, Manfred,” he instructed, hoping he sounded calm, but knowing the icy terror flooding through him had robbed him of any of the authority he could normally call upon with such ease. 

He darted from his seat, the stool toppling behind him, crossing Manfred’s room in two long strides, his bare feet splashing through the warm water that continued to seep from under the door. 

The door was unlocked - Amina knew she had no need to lock it to guarantee her privacy - and he flung it open, slipping over the threshold with the urgency of his momentum. 

“Darling—?”

He was met with the sight of the black marble bathtub built into the wall opposite him, overflowing, water still cascading from the brass faucet.

He might have shouted her name when he realized he couldn’t see her in the bath, and he slipped on the slick stone floor, falling to one knee when he surged forward. 

No, no, no…

Clothes drenched, he clamoured gracelessly over the floor and closed the distance between himself and the tub, gripping the sharp stone edge and hauling himself up, a wail of absolute horror tearing  from him at the sight that met his eyes: Amina laying on the floor of the tub, her creamy skin standing in morbid contrast against the backdrop of black, her dark hair almost indiscernible as it drifted placidly around her still face, her wide gaping eyes, and slightly open mouth: a peaceful mockery of the sheer panic that had overtaken him.

“No!” Emmrich choked, voice breaking in that single syllable, arms plunging into the water. “No-no-no-no… no, please… no, Amina—“ Her skin under his fingers was the same temperature as the tepid water that surrounded her, and he hauled her from the tub, yanking her sodden, lifeless weight over the side and onto the floor. 

A mortified sob fell from his lips as water sloshed over the edge of the tub, washing over them both; landing in her open mouth and splattering over her limp form as her uncannily empty green eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. 

Having seen enough death to know better, he still jammed his index and middle finger against her carotid artery, then the radial, brachial, femoral, popliteal - even the dorsalis pedis and posterior tibial. 

Utter, damning stillness met his fingertips in every location that should bear a pulse. 

Refusing to accept this confirmation of her death, he let her waterlogged ankle slip from his grip - it fell to the floor with a wet thud - and lifted his hands, parting the Veil and drawing on the Fade, channeling decades of skill and mastery into what he knew was a potent spell that could drag a person back from the threshold of death if too much time had not elapsed since their demise - a maximum of a few minutes at most. 

He speared the magic through her, directly into her chest where her heart lay, not bothering with typical conventions of propriety or gentle bedside manner: he needed this to work and he needed it to work now. 

Her bare chest arced upwards at the impact of the brilliant green light, and as wisps of necrotic shadow dispersed and faded, Emmrich’s anguished scream reverberated around the smooth walls of the bathroom when it became clear that the magic had failed and his beloved remained still and empty, the glorious temple of her body macabre in its unnatural, unholy silence. 

His fingers curled around her upper arms and he shook her, sobbing her name, beseeching her uselessly for a response that would never come. 

“Please darling, please…” He found the base of her skull and tilted her chin to the ceiling, stabilizing his other hand on her forehead and pinching her nose shut before inhaling deeply and clamping his mouth over hers, sending his breath into her water-logged lungs in a frantic attempt to impart vital oxygen to her. He repeated this a few more times before clasping his hands over the middle of her chest and leaning over her, bracing his elbows and compressing abruptly, again and again and again, his hands slipping over her wet skin, hot tears dripping down his nose and splashing onto her naked abdomen as he attempted to mechanically will life back into her body if magic wouldn’t do it. 

Water burbled out of her mouth, accompanied by chunks of her paltry meal that evening. It dribbled down her chin and clung to her skin, and he tilted her head to the side as he continued compressing her chest with enough force that he heard cartilage pop under his thrusts - felt ribs crack. 

“Don’t leave me,” he pleaded, hardly able to see her through the tears obscuring his vision.

He was distantly aware of Manfred standing behind him, peering over his shoulder politely, drawn by the unexpected cacophony.

He breathed into her again, uncaring of the rush of water and sick that purged past her lips against his.  

He screamed her name, pleading for her to return, not with his magic, but his very soul. He could not - would not - attempt his Corpse Whispering on her, because that would require accepting that she was gone.

He pumped her chest until he physically couldn’t anymore, and collapsed in a heap on top of her, cradling her against him, twining his fingers through her heavy, wet hair and stroking her cold, lifeless cheek. 

“I need you, Amina…” he wept against her cool skin, uncaring of the water that continued to pool around them, flooding outwards into the apartment. He rocked on his knees, removed from himself, fully and completely at the mercy of grief and horror. 

“I love you.” He squeezed her tightly against him and more water poured from her mouth that lolled open grotesquely. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chanted brokenly, as if the words might undo what had been done. 

Even despite the rushing water and the steady trickle of it cascading over the edge of the tub, there was a particular brand of silence that was dominating this space, weighing on it - crushing it in its immense gravity as Emmrich cried over the corpse of his beloved.

What would he do? Who would he alert first to this tragedy? Could anything else be done? Surely the sacrifices she made to save the world from the gods merited special consideration. Someone could… they should—

He yelped when cold fingers gripped his wet shirt and Amina’s body spasmed, going rigid for a moment, her eyes blinking once, twice, as the perceiving spark of cognizance returned to them and her jaw worked soundlessly, struggling to speak through the deluge of water that spewed forth from her lungs. 

His heart leapt in his chest: she was alive - by some incredible miracle she was alive despite her lack of a pulse, the water she’d inhaled, and the not insignificant amount of time she had been at the bottom of the bathtub.

Remarkable.

He helped her lean forward so she could continue retching up stream after stream of water, holding her dark hair from her face even though he knew there was little point in it - the fact he was able to mentally function at all was a miracle too.

When she was done, Amina shuddered intensely and collapsed back into his arms, voice weak as she croaked out his name through ravaged vocal cords. 

“W-what happened?” She rasped, pressing her cold body against him, seeming to almost subconsciously seek his heat as she wrapped herself around him, uncaring of her nakedness. “I m-must have drifted off… and I woke up to you c-crying, and— wh-why is the floor all w-wet?” 

Her teeth chattered together violently between words, and he could feel her shivering against him - partly from adrenaline, surely, but he could feel her through the wet material of his clothing, and he had never felt anyone so cold - no one living, at least. 

He leaned back on one hand and tilted her chin up from where she had buried her face in his chest to get a better look at her, knowing at once that even though she was conscious again, something was not right: her lips were bloodless and blue, the biggest giveaway that her circulatory system was not adequately managing her internal temperature. Her skin, exceptionally pale to begin with, seemed to have lost any colour that it had, leaving it with a semi-translucent, milky, opalescent appearance. 

“Emmrich?” 

And her eyes… those lively celedon orbs, now made different - an anemic, sickly green almost as void of pigment as her skin - haunting by their very existence and the fact that they had replaced the eyes he had come to know so intimately.

“Emmrich,” she repeated, panic edging into her hoarse voice when he continued to stare down at her, unable to speak because he was desperately trying to comprehend what was going on. “Why were you crying?” It wasn’t a question: it was a demand.

His hand drifted from the smooth, cold surface of her cheek, over her jaw, and past her throat, coming to rest just to the right of her windpipe, index and middle finger pressed flat against the place where her pulse should be.

Should be.

With a gasp he drew his hand away, letting it fall to his side as confirmed fact and direct contradiction collided, refuting and simultaneously verifying the evidence before him. 

Amina was still staring at him expectantly, pleading silently for an answer with those strange eyes of hers. 

Emmrich’s voice shook when he finally tried to say what he never in his wildest dreams imagined he’d be saying. He took her icy hands in his, squeezing them gently in some foolish hope that the simple action would soften the reality of his next words.

“I was crying because…” He faltered, tried again. “Because you are dead, darling.”

[lucaanis]

which patron saint are you? (oc version) tag game

big thankies to @katsigian & @deadrlngers for tagging me in this quiz game <3 ty beloved mutualsl!!

im gonna do this for my two freaks (gn) that are voted Most Likely to be forced into sainthood in my mind. lol

➥ LLEYTH DE RIVA — they/them (dragon age)

〚 patron saint of silence 〛— “you are the patron saint of empty spaces, cavernous rooms, moments that last for days. for some people, the emptiness is horrible, something that they need to fill: you, its patron, try to search within it for peace. there is nothing there. there is never anything there. even the emptiness is not a presence of its own. the only thing there is you.”

oooogghfgvhfhhhjf fuck. oh god. ow. every bone in my body has been broken w/ a lead pipe. what the fuck. i need to be splatted against the wall. especially considering. well. the horrors im trying not to think about because they make me too sad LMAO. fitting for the person who fears more than anything being alone and subsequently pushes everyone away like a self-fulfilling prophecy 🫠 u are soooo addicted to the eroticism of ur own martyrdom it makes me SICK!!!!!!!!

➥ ALEXEI STRAUSS — she/they (mass effect)

〚 patron saint of relics 〛— “patron saint of remembering. patron saint of holding something close. patron saint of holding on for too long. for a saint, a relic is often a part of the body, kept for some physical memento of their holiness. they are all in your hands, now: does it feel like remembrance? does it feel sanctified? are the dust and blood as precious as they're supposed to be?”

YEOWCH! ← guy who just got smashed in the head with a hammer cartoon style. makes sense when u remember that she is a ghost haunting their own narrative. something inhabiting a body that is preserved by the memories of others, seeing only what they remember and not what has been lost. the demi-human performance art recreation of the ship of theseus!! girl with the soul of an empty monument!!! hooray!!! /claps like an animal crossing villager

i think most people have been tagged already but tagging some cool ppl with cool ocs + YOU 🫵 if you want to do this <3 no obligation to interact or participate!!

@first-blight @quendiviner @vorgoth @opaleyedprince @rosenfey

@strixhaven @arborstone @taamlok @favoriteliar @veshialles

@togepies @nocticulas @hiddenbeks @evtoine

[hydrangeapartridge]

Opinion and thoughts on Emmrich’s questline’s last choice (with spoilers of course) :

How that choice stressed me the second the Liche thing was introduced… until when truly faced with it, it didn’t XD. I regret worrying so much but that’s in my nature (PTSD from Solas Romance and other stuff...). The second Manfred came into the picture, I was sold for one of the endings. I couldn’t imagine continuing the story without our beloved skeleton child.

With that said, I still played the two choices and the little wrapping quest after the choice. In the end, to me the whole choice felt like choosing between heart and mind. Here’s why:

- Emmrich becoming a Liche (the path of reason/logic)

In this ending Emmrich follows his dream/project. Just before you make the choice he is still very eager to become a Liche and barely talks about Manfred. I felt that’s what he really wanted and had worked hard for (contrary to other companion quests where other companions seemed less comitted to one choice over the other).

It is a more « selfish » (it’s a too strong word but I haven’t got a better one) ending and feels colder too. Emmrich follows his academic goals.

Rook and Emmrich’s interaction before the ritual made me a bit sad, like a farewell. The worry for Emmrich’s life and the unknown felt real. And when Vorgoth stepped out with the bloodied dagger, I felt a pang in my heart. The cutscene was very well done, every mortalitasi stepping out and suspense as Emmrich steps out last : he succeeded but changed forever.

Emmrich won’t have to face death because he succeeds in becoming immortal (he somewhat faces it because he could have died during the ritual but you see my point). When romanced, even if you can say it changes nothing to Rook’s feelings, that is obviously a big thing. It felt a bit too big for me for a romance that just starting blooming.

- Emmrich saving Manfred (the path of sentimentality)

To save Manfred, Emmrich will have to abandon becoming a Liche. He’s sacrificing something for Manfred, just like Manfred did for him. It’s warm and cute, and Manfred comes back with new magic powers. Plus you see the spirits of the first quest again which was a nice detail.

The first thing Manfred says when he realizes he’s got magic is « Magic, like you », showing he really admires Emmrich. That line killed me honestly, so heartwarming! The hug and the following scene with Rook are adorable, absolutely wonderful, and when in a romance with Emmrich it gives the family vibe that I personally enjoy very much. Father figure/teacher Emmrich does something to me… (I promise I don’t have daddy issues, I’m just getting older XD)

Emmrich will teach Manfred, pass on his knowledge to him, and somehow he’s giving his life to him since he turned down immortality for him.

Maybe it is selfish of me but I prefer this ending because Rook gets both Manfred and the same Emmrich as before. It feels happier. As Emmrich said when asked about his regrets: “I wouldn’t have it any other way”. This moment, with that sweet expression he made while watching Manfred discover the world again brought tears to my eyes. My heart was moved by this ending. It is by far my favourite.

Final thoughts:

I’m reminded of Baldur’s Gate 3 where the endings I preferred were those where the companions didn’t go through with their initial goals. It feels more like character growth that way maybe.

I’ll have to see if the other romances are as impacted by the final decisions of companion quests but I’m not sure. I didn’t feel like the other choices were that big (except Taash and Harding maybe) but maybe I’m wrong, I’ll see when I watch the other romances.

I’ll do another post soon about my overall opinion on the companions and their quests.

I absolutely do not regret choosing Emmrich’s romance, it made me feel lots of different feelings, and that proves it had me invested! It was very good. I hope there will be a few more scenes with him (especially a sexy one XD) because I can’t get enough of this lovely man!

(Link to my opinion on his last quest if you want more of my rambling)

[piipaw]

ASK GAME FOR MY ROOK’S MOST BELOVED PSEUDO SIBLING

Let’s hear 13, 22, 26, 41, 48, and +1 (if you want anyhow!)

HELLOOOOOO YESSSS THANK YOU FOR ASKING 🌟

Did Rook bring any trinkets/sentimental items to The Lighthouse?

I think a lot of their belongings are still back at the Grand Necropolis with Vorgoth and Myrna. I'm not sure that their room would be left untouched, like a child going off to college, but more that everything is boxed up and stored with them on the idea that this /isn't/ permanent.

That said I think they'd have like. A blanket Vorgoth got them when they were younger, a fancy hair brush Myrna had gifted them as a birthday trinket, and a handful of books. They had to pack light when joining Varric so otherwise it's just that and some clothes.

Most embarrassing memory as a teenager:

Grier, between 14 and 16, was late to class one day and while in their daze of getting to point a to point b too fast, had the misfortune of passing as one of the heavy metal doors was opening and it nailed them hard in the face. They never got a look at who it was that had passed through, but they kept marching on even though they started to feel a little sweaty and fatigued.

They get to class and their eyebrow is split, blood going down their face. They didn't even notice until a drop hits their desk. At this point they touch their cheek and start nervous laughing when they see the blood, their teacher goes to comment on their tardiness and sees their injury and instead goes to get help, all while their peers are staring.

There's a fuzzy period of memory, but Grier remembers waking up NOT in the class room anymore and all patched up, Myrna thanking someone for helping before bringing them a change of clothes and assisting with washing the blood out of their bangs.

Rook is in charge of the grocery list. What’s on it?

Rye bread, jam, three different cheeses, cinnamon, eggs, water, celery, carrots, grapes, pomegranate juice, cream cheese.

Sorry to everyone but Grier cannot cook they are eating ingredients basically raw. Growing up in the necropolis where everything is provided, I picture Grier not having a need or access to cook solo-- but otherwise having a more bland flavor pallet.

Grier biting into a stick of cream cheese directly. Makes toast for dinner with jam or melted cheese. Snacks on fruits and veggies, unless they can convince someone to scramble an egg for them.

Lucanis probably made them an omelette once and Grier cried I'm sure.

What’s on their nightstand?

Not much! Hairbrush, hand mirror, some medication and ointments. Maybe a scented lotion if they've splurged on themselves. Perhaps a book they were working through.

A color, flower, animal, and weather to describe Rook:

Color: their fav color is deep purple, but to describe them? It depends on how you view color theory. Blue is loyalty, compassion, though I personally relate blue with mold ☠️

Flower: Bleeding hearts. Not just for the physical aesthetic, but since two of their meanings are of being compassion and overly emotionally reactive I think it fits.

Animal: I'm not 100% set on this but I've been joking that Grier would be a barn owl. The face is cute and sharp, but the symbolism that owls are have high intuition and are sensitive to things around them feels right.

Weather: overcast. Maybe a light rain. Grier dislikes sunny days, so a gray sky with a gentle drizzle or misting feels right.

What does Rook smell like?

Lavender. Mint. Smoke. Salty undercurrent of tears or the earthiness of grave dirt stuck in their boots.

[feeshies]

myrna/vorgoth shadow tentacle smut fic my beloved

[solitaireships]

✍️🙈💞 + 🤪 for minala plsss :)))

✍️: Overall, how does the fandom trait you? Are you a beloved character, or hated? Are you popular, or a minor side character? Anything in between?

So since Minala’s my Rook, she’s the protagonist. I think especially since people largely like Rook, she would be pretty well likes, but idk if you’ve seen it, but some people have also been insisting Rook is actually the worst ever and the real villain instead of that bald man so. It’d really depend lmao

I do think at the very least if she were made a companion instead of the PC, people would like her for her goth autistic vibes tho! She’d probably be slotted into the “brain empty goofy” thing everyone likes to slot Rooks in general into which is 100% inaccurate for her but it is what it is

🤪: What is your trait that fanon would exaggerate?

I do fear her being autistic, wasian, and anxious may get her slotted into the delicate flower uwu baby thing despite her being a grown ass woman lol

💞: Aside from with your f/o, who else would you commonly be shipped with? Why?

I think Davrin mainly just bcs they’re best friends lol. My joking bonus answer would also be Anders bcs that’s my husband, but outside of that, idk. Maybe Myrna and/or Vorgoth bcs of the Mourn Watch associations?

🙈: Why would your ship be thought of as cute/fluffy? Why would your ship be considered problematic?

For the most part, I think people would like it! Especially with the Minala and Bellara relationship, I think that people would really like it bcs of the degree of connection and similarity they have with each other, that’s then balanced out with some opposites attract kind of stuff (ex Minala being raised by humans and Bellara being Dalish, Minala being quiet while Bellara is more outgoing and energetic)

I also know people just from telling me on here would like Emmrich x Minala bcs goth x goth- they’re lowkey Gomez and Morticia Addams coded when it comes to romance. Them coparenting Manfred would be so sweet, and especially since Emmrich’s been wanting to be in love for so long and hasn’t really found that one true love. I think it’s very sweet

Then Minala and Neve. I know I don’t talk about them a ton, and that’s bcs they get together post canon so it’s hard to talk about without spoilers. If you can guess by the fact that Minala romanced Bellara in the game itself, you can probably figure out a major thing that happens with Neve that then effects the relationship. So there’s a bit of angst there but I think that makes them getting together all the sweeter bcs it means they still have this very strong mutual trust. Minala makes it easier for Neve to see the bright side of things, and I think they bring out other sides of each other

However there is the elephant in the room and why I always get a little scared even on here talking about the polyam part of Gothic Sunshine, which is the age gap between Emmrich, Minala, and Bellara. All of them are fully grown adults- Bellara is 32 and Minala is 34- but Emmrich being 56 (unconfirmed but my specific hc based on the range we got) would be what would make people hesitate around it. And I know most people don’t tend to care about Rook x Emmrich, but I think that Bellara in the relationship specifically would be what would make people say it could be problematic. Especially with Bellara calling Emmrich professor at first (which she does bcs she first started talking to him over letters about academic things and she wants to be respectful), I think people would get weird about that

And that leads me into another related thing bcs again. Bellara is a grown, 32 year old woman. She is an expert in her field. She fixed an eluvian in minutes when people have studied how to do that their whole lifetime. Yet both the fandom and to some degree the game tends to infantilize her. You have no idea how much it annoys me that they just kind of treat her like a fan for Neve and Emmrich when she’s an equal to them, and yes I do think this treatment of her is bcs she’s an Asian woman with ADHD. Her relationship with both of them does shift in the game, and Emmrich calls out the imposter syndrome she has that’s part of why she acts that way, but then the game immediately goes to characterizing her in her dynamic with Neve as being sisterly bcs god forbid an Asian woman be treated like an adult and viable romantic interest. Rant over but yeah I do think that would also make people try to say the ship since it includes all three mages is problematic

[wyvernscales]

Rather than make a post for each of my DATV thoughts, I’ve just put them all here. Spoilers for all of act 1:

Not Varric fulfilling the Duncan role this game

Why only Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain tho? Why aren’t they all out

Strife!!! He doesn’t like me :(

FREAK DARKSPAWN ARE BACK BAYBEEE

Would smash the nadas dirthalen

Well D’Meta’s crossing was gross.

Why is there a human mayor of a town in Arlathan and why does he care about Ghilannain?

A Morrigan intro that doesn’t have her saying “well, well”????????

VALTA!HARDING

Bbg I’m so confused by the crossroads I don’t like these mapsssss

TEIAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!

Faceless horde of identical qunari occupying a city? How original.

Caterina’s kind of a gilf ngl

Underwater level uwu

Spite’s kinda…

No! Another gilf down :(

oh? Is the oracle the same thing that valta heard???

Yeah, yeah, dangerous relics or whatever. I’ve got kitties to pet and pottery to eviscerate

LuCANIS! All this talk of coffee kisses in front of your cousin??

Why is the Butcher called the Butcher if he’s the leader of the Antaam?

Why would the qamekmaster call them human traitors if all non-qunari are bas?

You can’t seriously make me believe the Crows are a moral group fighting for justice

Governor Ivenci only referred to with gender neutral pronouns. Another nb win

And Why would the Venatori be knowingly working with elven gods??

MAEVARIS MAEVARIS MAEVARIS

I don’t care how long I have to go running around killing darkspawn to get the chest in the creepy blight tree, I’m GETTING the chest

Worth it.

Idk, I’ve always imagined the Anderfels as snowy not… cactusy

Antoine is perhaps the most French man to exist ever. Not even Orlesian, French.

Hold on, I’ve gotta explode this cactus with my body

Gloom Howler’s kinda hot

Jesus FUCK this blighted dragon

Noticing a suspicious lack of anyone responding to Varric’s existence….

MYRNAAAAAA

TAAAAASH

When Harding talks about the inquisition all I can think about is the inconsistencies? Like, why would she remember Cole if he left or remained a spirit?

EEMMRICHHHHHH

I’ve only known this wisp for one second and if anything bad happens to it I will kill everyone and then myself

Em has canon father energy

LEMME AT THESE fucking CHESTS IN THE NECROTORIUM

MANFREDDSD

Ykw. Vorgoth can get it too

BELOVED Taash feeds the birdies

Karash has non binary swag

Wait wait. If Taash’s mom left the Qun bc she didn’t want her child to be in the Antaam, which would make them functionally a man then why is she ok with Taash being a warrior anyway? Seems odd to do this kinda plot with a group we’ve already established transness with

You can’t seriously think I’m gonna save the capital of the slave empire.

Davrin is dadcore

FORMLESS ONE!!!!!!!!!!!

A BELOVED wisp has gifted me a SPOON!

Astrolabe Restored

Well. Goodnight shadow dragons I guess.

candle hops are such cuties

My inquisitior would not behave like this.

So Aveline’s the Viscount and she’s allied with Sebastian, a guy who tried to annex Kirkwall in my worldstate

I kinda wanna play “Inquisitor saves Southern Thedas 2 Electric Boogaloo” if I’m being honest

I already collected all the wolfs regrets before meeting Inky. So. Yeah. That was a lot.

SO FLEMETH IS DEAD FRFR?????

How come the other gods are crazy looking and Mythal is just a normal elf

Oh this echo in the well thing is gonna be cool

Truly don’t know how much of these blight sound effects I can take tbh

ARE WE GOIN TO KAL SHAROK BAYBEE???

The Kal-Sharok armor kinda reminds me of the Sha-Brytol

The Valdasine Thaig is the primeval Thaig in 2 btw

VALTAAAAA

Ugh. I’ve always hated the ‘the old gods are related to the evanuris’ thing (tho I guess it’s not a theory). But we all thought Elgar’nan was Dumat tho right?

And if you can kill the Gods with the lyrium dagger, why didn’t he just do that? Like, we’ve already established that killing them with the dagger just fragments them.

I get that the fate of weisshaupt and all the wardens is important or whatever, but I’ve got chests to open beybee

Yeah bc it’s super easy to just off an Archdemon. what do you mean davrin’s killing it….

Well now killing an archdemon while it’s all tied down’s a bit unfair

Oh.

God that archdemon fight sucked.

[quinnigallagherjones]

tagged by @luthientinuvielss (thank youuu 🥺🤍)

last song: chihiro by billie eilish

last movie: the suicide squad (my beloved <3)

last show: currently watching a small light (it's so so good, everyone should go watch it)

last book: currently reading dracula by bram stoker !!!!

last thing googled/looked up: angela giarratana (i was making sure i spelt her name correctly hahaha)

looking forward to: seeing dan and phil live and going to the uk to visit my girlfriend 🥺

tagging: @queenofthekings @aaronstveit @darlingboydiaz @shortnsweetgf @notebookmusical @vorgoths @eddie-kaspjack @eohwyyn (no pressure as always 🤍)