#emmrich volkarin fic

[flightlessangelwings]

Beautifully Undone

Emmrich Volkarin x Rook (gender neutral)

Word count- 1.3k

Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, praise, romance, established relationship, porn without plot, no description of Rook so you can imagine whatever you want!

Notes- Dedicated to my darling @ollypopwrites who has been fueling thoughts of our beloved necromancer! It's so nice to send filth back and forth again! Please do check out her fics too cause they're hot and fantastic!! And I purposefully made this gender neutral so this can be enjoyed by everyone (I romanced Emmrich with a trans woman Rook) but you can picture whatever you wish! Enjoy!!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date. I also post on AO3 under the same name

~ 

“Darling, your beauty would make even the strongest of men weep,” Emmrich purred as he slipped his last ring off his finger and placed it beside Rook.

“Do I see tears in your eyes, Emmrich?” Rook smirked.

“Quite surely,” he replied as he reached for his gold band on his wrist.

“Wait,” Rook grabbed his hand, stopping him, “Leave those on.”

Emmrich’s eyes trailed up to meet Rook’s gaze. The sincere look he found there made his heart swell, “As you wish, darling,” his tone dropped, “You know I could never deny you anything you wanted, my dearest.”

Rook’s skin warmed as a soft sigh escaped, “Emmrich…”

He had Rook stripped naked and seated on his desk, legs spread open and his rings laid out on either side. Emmrich remained fully clothed, the only flash of skin was the top buttons undone at Rook's insistence, wanting to see more of him. The glimmer of gold framed Rook’s figure perfectly, and the necromancer had to take a step back and admire the sight on his desk.

“Beautiful, darling,” he muttered as he took in a sharp breath at the way Rook looked at him.

“Come here,” Rook reached for him.

A chuckle emitted from Emmrich’s throat as he complied, leaning forward into his love’s embrace and crashing their lips together. He swallowed the moan Rook let out as they tasted each other. A rush of heat of his own pulsed through his body, making his pants strain with the ever growing and ever insatiated need for Rook.

“Mmm,” Emmrich groaned into the kiss as his hands roamed all over Rook’s body. He studied every dip and curve, memorizing every inch of his love. He huffed with amusement as his tongue tangled with Rook’s and he found a particularly sensitive spot. “I could never get enough of you, my darling.”

Rook’s mind spun already just from his kiss. And Emmrich’s touch was almost intoxicating, “Neither can I, Emmrich,” Rook mumbled as he moved down to nibble on a sensitive spot of the neck. 

“Decadently sweet, my darling,” Emmrich murmured against Rook’s skin as he licked at the tight muscle on the base of the neck, making Rook mewl. 

Rook clung to Emmrich’s shoulders, tugging at his shirt and wrinkling the fine fabric. But Emmrich didn’t care, in fact he hardly noticed as his mind was consumed with his lover. It was only when Rook’s hand made its way to his hair and gave the greys a tug that he groaned.

“Emmrich…” Rook sighed as tender hands caressed up and down.

“I have you, darling,” he gave Rook one last kiss before he broke away to admire the sight before him once again. 

“And you always will,” Rook replied without a hint of doubt or hesitation.

The necromancer hummed as his eyes trailed down his beloved’s body. His hands followed his gaze, starting at Rook’s jaw. Cupping it gently to kiss Rook again, Emmrich ran his hands down to pinch at Rook’s nipples, and he delighted in the reaction that pulled. He gently massaged Rook’s chest for a moment before he adjusted his posture, holding onto his love by the hip with one arm while the other snaked in between the legs.

“Rook.”

“Please, Emmrich,” Rook all but begged, “You can’t stop now.”

His eyes darkened as he cupped between Rook’s legs, feeling the arousal that built up there. “Dearest,” he whispered as he carefully pushed a finger inside.

Rook’s mouth dropped open and eyes shut. All Rook could do was pant as Emmrich quickly added a second finger. The connection was a feeling unlike anything else Rook had ever felt before, and it caused a flutter within Rook’s chest.

“Maker,” Emmrich gasped as Rook’s warmth enveloped his fingers.

“Move, Emmrich… Please.”

He placed a tender kiss on the lips before he rested his forehead against Rook’s. He groaned, feeling his cock strain as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of his love. The sounds that came from Rook’s mouth were tantalizing, and it only spurred him on more. Encouraged with every moan and cry, Emmrich moved a little faster, savoring every little sound he heard.

But there was another sound that added more to the moment: his bracelets. The way they clanged and chimed with every thrust of his arm harmonized with Rook’s moans perfectly. And it was beautiful music to the necromancer’s ears. He grinned against his love as he realized this was what Rook intended all along... Clever. 

“Darling…”

Rook’s eyes blinked open and were met with Emmrich’s loving gaze. A deep sigh warmed their faces as Rook’s heart skipped a beat. But, just as Rook was about to say something witty in response, Emmrich’s fingers found just the right spot deep inside. “Oh!” Rook cried out, “Emm…”

“That’s it’ darling,” he purred as he pumped his fingers in and out, slowly and reply, feeling every soft spot inside of Rook, “Show me, love,” he murmured as his voice went hoarse from his own strain, “Show me how beautiful you are when you come undone.”

All Rook could do was cry out in ecstasy as the room spun. With every thrust of Emmrich’s long fingers, coming undone became closer and closer. Waves of pleasure crashed through Rook as tingles erupted all over. Heat rose between the two lovers as Emmrich murmured soft praises in Rook’s ear as he thrust his fingers as deep as he could reach. 

“Emmrich…” Rook moaned as a climax quickly built up inside.

“Come, darling. I’m here to catch you.”

His voice was that final push that sent Rook tumbling over the edge. Emmrich’s fingers hooked inside, stroking that sweet spot deep inside of Rook over and over again as screams of pleasure echoed in the room. Rook’s legs trembled on either side of his slender body. Leaning on him for support, Rook’s orgasm made the room feel like it was on fire and inside a tornado at the same time. It was overwhelming pleasure in the best way possible, and Rook knew it was something that could only have come from Emmrich. His expert touch mixed with his unwavering adoration was the perfect formula to make Rook come completely undone. And Rook would have it no other way.

As tears started to form in the corners of Rook’s eyes, Emmrich knew it was time to back off. For now at least. He slowed his movements, coaxing just that last bit of climax from Rook’s body before he stilled his fingers inside. Every little moan and whimper went right to his core as he felt the sticky evidence of Rook’s release on his palm.

Rook was a mess, and had never looked more beautiful to Emmrich.

“Exquisite, my dearest,” he hummed in Rook’s ear before kissing it.

The only response Rook had was a breathy laugh. A gasp then escaped Rook’s throat as Emmrich slowly pulled his fingers out, his bracelets jingling slightly at the careful movement. Immediately, his arms wrapped around Rook and held on tightly. He placed a series of light kisses on the side of his love’s head, his lips lingering on the temple for just a moment longer.

“Emmrich…” Rook breathed before kissing the necromancer deeply.

“Darling,” he whispered between tender kisses.

Rook’s hands landed on Emmrich’s chest, gently trying to push him back. But, Rook found him unmoveable. Breaking away from the kiss, Rook questioned, “Emmrich?”

“Darling,” Emmrich smirked as he kissed Rook’s forehead, “You didn’t believe I was finished with you just yet, did you?” his voice dropped as he dropped to his knees before Rook, looking up with a fire in his eyes, “My love, we are just getting started.” 

[theres-a-tvjoe]

A little piece of an emmrook fic I’m working on - god help me, they have me in a choke hold right now. It’s gonna be all soft found fam and soft falling in love and all the hurt comfort and painfully self indulgent.

-

Emmrich enters the kitchen and pauses in the doorway, smiling at the sight before him.

“I see birthday preparations are underway,” he says. Behind him, Manfred clatters to a stop.

“Rook!” The skeleton hisses happily.

“For Rook, that’s right,” Harding laughs, hands on her hips as she looks up at the twinkling lights strung above the table with pride. “Neve has her distracted in Dock Town for another hour or two at least.”

“Excellent,” Emmrich claps his hands together. “How can I be of service? Manfred would be delighted to help wrap gifts - he’s fascinated by the wrapping paper.”

“I’d take help with the gifts,” Bellara chirps from the couch, presents strewn over the coffee table. “Manfred, you can be in charge of the ribbon - no one’s ever complained about too much ribbon.”

“How true, Bellara,” Emmrich laughs, watching as Manfred happily clatters over to the elf. “Perhaps I can assist with the food?”

“No one is allowed to help in the kitchen,” Taash says, coming down from the pantry laden with a box of food. “Or Lucanis will kill them.”

“That’s not what I said!” Lucanis shouts from behind the stove.

“Didn’t have to!” Taash shouts back.

Near the couch, Bellara carefully sets Manfred up with some ribbon to curl for the gifts.

“Why don’t I set the table and organize the flowers?” Emmrich suggests.

“Great idea,” Harding says, sighing with a smile. “Davrin should be in soon with the drinks - he had strict orders on what wine to pick up from Treviso.”

“You’ll thank me later!” Lucanis shouts again

[ladymdc]

To love was to care about someone else's life more than your own. It was knowing that without the other, you would never really exist as a whole again.

Still, Emmrich was not afraid to love Rook. He was afraid of what it would mean should she love him back. __________________

OR: Five moments Emmrich regretted, and one of many that he never would.

[housederiva]

Rook…Slick….Scruffy….Bangles…Hero…Smokey….Bones…. and Harding :)

[lavenderprose]

Man they really did put eyeliner on that old man. They said 'Here you go' and gift wrapped him with a full black waterline and deep soulful eyes and a cunty little mustache and bangles that go jingle jingle when he, uh, walks. They gave him dangly little chains. They gave him knee high boots. They gave him cake. Sylvia Feketekuty said, "I'm gonna give the lesbians everything they want," and then DID. You will live FOREVER Emmrich Volkarin. You are the metrosexual king of my dreams.

[ellie-writes-games]

Spite, Love, and Limes

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗ prev Part 10 of Burn After Reading banter series next ╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request? Part of an on-going series of fan-writings. See the full Masterlist here.

I know. I know. I know I know I know. The fandom REALLY likes the idea of Spite being...uh, active, in Rookanis. Here's the rub: the pure, delicious, indulgent fan-made stuff is out there and it is KILLER.

But that's kind of not my goal. The fun and the challenge of writing this kind of content, for me anyway, is playing within the limits of what the game gave us. Making it as close to some of the wonderful dynamics that are already there with the cast of Veilguard, and just playing. I'm also a game writer. Not for Bioware, no, but I do this kind of stuff for a living. I have mad respect for the folks who have shaped this world and the characters we all know and love. This is one of those weird personal lines where I don't want to step too far out of the canon with a set of characters that you can spend literally over a hundred hours with in a single playthrough. I think that gives us a pretty clear idea of what they were going for, whether or not it's your personal headcanon. Some wickedly talented folks poured a lot of time into fleshing out this found family and their delightful little interpersonal dynamics, and I want to try and honor that. I apologize to the Church of Spite and it's many devoted followers. I wish you all the spiciest of fics. Just know that's not where this is going. ✌😘

This is fanfiction written by me, @ellie-writes-games. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game. Peace, love, and mad props to the DA writers.

[timethehobo]

Dressing Emmrich up is just fun.

[ibahibut]

💀: Fewer wounds, more kisses from me.

🐦‍⬛: Contract's accepted, mi amor.

Music inspiration: A Little Death by The Neighbourhood

[bbluxart]

"Rook, a word?"

I love the commentary between party members when you romance emmrich. They're like "oh so you and Rook, huh?" And Emmrich always responds with, "oh you noticed?" When you KNOW these besotted fools are doing shit like this CONSTANTLY.

[redwyvernan]

something something something the magic in the elvhenan’s haven section of the crossroads making the companions smell home. but not rook. rook “can’t place it.” neve smells dock town after it rains. harding smells her mom’s apple pie. but rook cannot recognize the smell of home.

after all is said and done, do you think rook smells the lighthouse there? do they smell lucanis’s complicated antivan cooking, or davrin’s woodcarvings, or the electrical burn from bellara’s magical projects? or the smell of dusty pages from emmrich’s books, or the flowers from harding’s garden, or the fried fish and ink from neve’s office, or the woodsmoke from taash? do you think the scent of varric’s old leather duster is in there somewhere? do you think rook finally recognizes home?

[askfordoodles]

My brain, choosing violence:

hey, don't think about how Emmrich watched Manfred die the same way his parents did, a large structure falling on them

and for a moment Emmrich regresses to the age he was when it happened, a scared helpless and lost little boy

That, right there, is little Emmrich, being brought right back to the worst moment of his life as a child, just look at that body language the devs chose for him in this moment.

Me, to my brain: hey can you maybe chill, Satan

(I know we don't know for certain if he actually witnessed the building collapse, but wouldn't it be fucked up if he did)

[emmg]

Here’s a little list for my fellow Emmrook degenerates who, like me, are forever screaming into the void for more, more, more fanfic. I got you.

For steamy, filthy, hot-as-sin sex: You go straight to @eavangeek. No detours. This person has me clenching my thighs and questioning my morals on a daily basis. Currently devouring Chalon’s Tea and literally fanning myself like some Victorian widow about to faint.

For angst with a side of creepy obsession: That’s @jainydoe. I’m pretty sure she’s seconds away from filing a restraining order against me because I will not—CANNOT—shut the fuck up about how much I love her writing. It’s deliciously dark, and I am unwell.

For hot, emotional porn (with so many feelings it physically hurts): You’re looking for @heylittleriotact. I stalk her AO3 like a goddamn feral raccoon digging through garbage, and every time I read her Emmrich, I swoon so hard I see stars.

You’re welcome. Happy reading, fellow Emmrook trash. Let’s rot together.

[reeseykins]

Thoughts on Emmrich while Rook is trapped in the Fade

Kind of obsessed with thinking about Emmrich's deteriorating mental state while Rook was trapped in the Fade.

The first few days he's ultra focused on finding a way to get Rook back. He's a Fade expert -- this sort of problem was made for him to solve. He tells himself he WILL find a solution, because that's why he's here, right? He keeps telling himself that over and over, willing himself to solve this impossible problem.

He stays awake for 48 hours straight. Bellara and Neve are with him at first, each pouring over an arcane text he's brought with him from Nevarra, searching for the very few-and-far-between references of anyone who has physically walked in the Fade. Sometime after the sun rises, he realizes he's alone. He doesn't remember when the others left, presumably to rest.

Lucanis brings coffee. He squeezes the elder mage's shoulder and assures him -- "We'll get her back." Emmrich doesn't look up from the page. He knows that if the Crow could see his eyes, he'd see all the fear and guilt he's trying so desperately to pretend isn't slowly consuming him from within.

By day three he's coming undone. He hasn't shaved, hasn't bathed, has barely moved from his seat amongst an ever-growing stack of books, each carefully flagged or left open wherever he's found even a hint of a clue that could bring her back to him. He dozes off, face down on an open tome. Bellara sneaks in and drapes a blanket over his shoulders, careful not to wake him.

He loses his focus on the seventh day. It's been a week - an entire week - since she's been gone. He'll never see her again. He spent their last night together arguing with her. He lays down on his bed and presses the palm of his hand to the mattress where Rook had once curled beside him. It's cold; there is no scrap of her warmth left.

By day ten he's manic. His mind still replays the argument over and over and over, but the memory is quieter now, interspersed with a hundred other, brighter moments. The curve of her lips as she smiled just for him, the fall of a lock of hair across her face that he gently pushed behind her ear, the sweet sound of her sudden inhalation of breath as they made love. These memories should be a comfort, but instead they torment him with the knowledge of what he's lost. He paces back and forth along the walkway at the top of the spiral staircase in his room, praying that a solution will materialize out of the haze clouding his mind. This cannot be the end.

Darkness takes hold. He's losing himself, losing the very essence of what makes him who he is. There are whispers at the edge of his consciousness, and he knows instinctually that he's become a target of some demon or another - desire, or perhaps despair. He'll rip open the Fade, he thinks to himself. To hell with the Dread Wolf, he'll bring down the Veil if only to get her back. He'll drown the world in demons, in blood, lay waste to everything. His chest heaves, he's frantic now, running his hands through his hair and panting. There is no air in the room, in his lungs. But then he feels a familiar presence behind him. Manfred is there with tea. The madness fades, he regains himself and musters the will to banish those evil fantasies from his mind.

What good would it do to get Rook back if he destroys himself, possibly everyone and everything, in the process? He washes up, shaves for the first time in days, changes his clothes, and goes to find the rest of the team. He cannot be alone anymore with his thoughts.

And then, she is back. She doesn't see how dangerously close he came to succumbing to despair. She doesn't see him unkempt or disheveled. But she knows. He wraps his arms around her in bed that night, hooks his foot over her ankle, drawing her in tight like a choking vine, and she knows.

[starlsen]

A Scar's Caress

Fem!Rook x Emmrich Volkarin ✶ Lots of fluff followed by smutty goodness ✶ NSFW ✶ 6.1k words

Read on AO3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It had been quite some time since the whole team had been able to gather at the dining table to enjoy a good meal together. Tonight, Lucanis had insisted that everyone make themselves available, because it had been far too long since any of them had taken a real break – especially Rook. She’d be the last one to admit she needed to take it slow, but was never one to turn down a plate of Lucanis’ signature paella, particularly when washed down with a glass of Antivan Red.

“That was amazing, Lucanis.” Harding sighed as she sat back in her chair, hands on her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

“I told you to save room for dessert,” Lucanis said indignantly, hands on his hips. “I baked a pie.”

“Oh,” Her cheeks flushed. “Right. I knew that.” Lucanis raised a brow and she smiled sheepishly. “I’m not that stuffed.”

Rook’s mouth turned up with amusement as she cleared away the last of the plates and grabbed another bottle of wine, setting about topping up everyone’s drinks. Conversation had flowed easily throughout dinner as she and her companions exchanged stories, cracked jokes and enjoyed just… being. She felt lighter than she had in a while, finally able to set everything aside and pretend for just a couple of hours that nothing outside of these walls existed. That the weight of the world didn’t rest on the shoulders of everyone in this room.

“Thank you, darling.” Emmrich said as she poured more wine into his goblet, offering her a dazzling smile as she did so. She returned the gesture, affectionately brushing her knuckle under his chin before turning her attention to Taash and Davrin who, by all accounts, were now engaging in a heated debate about scars.

“That's nothing,” Taash snorted. “It's kinda precious, actually.”

“Precious?” Davrin repeated incredulously. “You think a scar I got from taking down a hurlock is precious?” Taash shrugged.

“Sure. Why not?” Davrin baulked at dragon hunter, before turning to Rook for support as she topped up his wine.

“Are you hearing this?”

Rook snorted. “Yes.” Davrin waited, brows raised.

“And?” He pressed when Rook didn't elaborate, and she pressed her lips together in an effort to suppress her amusement, shrugging casually.

“I'm with Taash on this one.” Taash smirked, folding their arms across their chest, and sat back in their seat.

“Told ya.” They said, and Davrin sighed heavily.

“Why are we talking about Davrin’s adorable scar, anyway?” Rook asked, setting the bottle down and returning to her seat beside Emmrich. The Grey Warden rolled his eyes.

“It’s the story that counts.” Taash said, turning back to Davrin. “Yes, it’s very cool that you took down a hurlock with a bunch of cracked ribs, or whatever. But the scar itself is…” They paused.

“Kind of pretty?” Rook offered, much to Davrin’s chagrin, and Taash snorted.

“Alright,” He said flatly, turning pointedly towards Rook. “I think it's time we ask our fearless leader.” Her friends snickered at the nickname they'd started throwing around within the last couple of weeks, to which Rook rolled her eyes as she brought her goblet to her lips. “I bet you’ve got some adorable stories of your own.” She arched her brow as she sipped her wine, and considered him for a moment.

“I think we should hear from Emmrich next,” She said, offering the man at her side a sweet smile, to which he chuckled and sat back in his chair.

“Oh, I don’t know,” He clasped his hands together in that way that made Rook’s heart soar. “I’m quite sure my scars don’t come with stories to rival the excitement of any of yours.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, Professor.” Bellara said earnestly, her eyes shining. “All the things you’ve done in your career? I bet you have some amazing stories to share.”

“Well,” He mused. “There was an unfortunate mishap when I was a much younger, considerably less experienced necromancer.” He sighed, a note of nostalgia in his eyes. “You see, as members of the Mourn Watch, it is commonplace to raise skeletons in order to carry out work within the Grand Necropolis. And, being hungry for ambition and driven by my determination to prove my worth,” He balled his fists in front of himself to emphasise his words. “I attempted to raise a skeleton before I was ready.” Rook’s brows rose in surprise, though her lips curled into a smile.

“So what happened?” She asked, and he turned his gaze to her, smiling bashfully.

“Its coordination was frightfully misaligned.” He said, and Rook’s eyes widened as Emmrich placed a finger on his left pectoral, dragging a diagonal line across to his sternum. “Thankfully, I was able to get out of the way,” He paused and chuckled. “Well, mostly.”

“That’s a great story!” Bellara exclaimed. “I told you!”

“That’s so messed up.” Taash grumbled.

“Not bad.” Neve said, and Emmrich held his hands up.

“That’s it from me, I’m afraid.” Rook watched as he sat back in his chair and lifted his goblet to his lips, taking a sip of wine. His eyes met her own and her heart fluttered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“That was pretty good,” Davrin said, pulling Rook’s attention away from Emmrich. “So I’m willing to bet, as a fellow necromancer, you have something good, too.” She shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back in her chair.

“I don’t know, almost getting axed by a skeleton sounds pretty hard to beat.” Emmrich tutted from her side and she flashed him a grin.

“Come on, Rook.” Lucanis said from across the table.

“Alright, alright,” She said, all eyes on her, and sighed. It wasn’t that she didn’t want them to know about her scars, necessarily; she supposed, more than anything, her hesitancy came from never having actually told another living soul about them. She’d never told anyone how she got them. Never let anyone see them.

“You don’t have to share, if you don’t want to.” Harding said, and Rook blinked, looking over to find her friend smiling, and tried not to think about the scar on her forehead – or how and why she got it, all those months ago.

“It’s okay,” Rook said and cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. “Much like my esteemed colleague here,” She gestured to Emmrich. “I also attempted magic far above my station when I was way too young and way too hot-headed to realise how stupid it was.” Emmrich scoffed, and their friends laughed. “No offence.” She added, touching his arm, to which he rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

“Alright.” Taash paused. “So… a spell went wrong, or what?”

“Something like that.”

“Where is it?” Davrin asked. “The scar, I mean.”

“Right here,” Rook said, pointing to her sternum. “All the way down to around… here.” She gestured down to below her knee. The table fell quiet, then, and she could feel Emmrich’s eyes burning into her. Taash let out a low whistle.

“Mierda,” Lucanis said quietly, and Rook shifted in her seat.

“Damn,” Davrin laughed, turning to Taash. “Now I see why you think mine are adorable.” Rook grinned as the others joined in his mirth.

“I stand by what I said.” Taash drawled, and laughter filled the dining table once more. “Who’s next?”

She was thankful for the diversion away from herself and knocked back the rest of her wine, all too aware of the man at her side, that his eyes were still fixed on her. She set down her cup and turned her attention to him to find him watching her thoughtfully, his brow slightly furrowed.

“What?” She asked, and he lowered his voice.

“I had no idea.” He said, glancing down at her body before bringing his gaze back to her own. “Darling, what happened?” She smiled, leaning in until her lips brushed the shell of his ear.

“Come to my room later and I’ll tell you,” She purred. “Maybe I’ll even show you.” She sat back in her chair and his brows shot up, eyes slightly wide, before clearing his throat and reaching for his wine once more. She flashed him a wicked grin and he chuckled, relaxing somewhat and shaking his head.

The truth was that while she’d dodged having to explain the details of the incident to her companions, she’d realised relatively quickly after meeting him that Emmrich was likely to be the only person she could share it with. He understood her in a way that nobody else could, and often seemed to know her better than she knew herself. And now, many months later, he was so much more than just a fellow necromancer, companion or friend. What they shared was… simply put, utterly magical, and they’d formed a bond that she knew could survive anything.

Not only that, but it had become increasingly difficult to ignore the way he made her feel, to ignore the all consuming desire that overwhelmed her senses whenever he was near – which was, incidentally, almost every single day. The alluring, dazzling and devastatingly charming gentleman had assured her they’d take things slow, to allow their relationship to progress organically; the only problem was that she wanted to take things further. Much, much further, and was confident that Emmrich was just as ready as she was.

There had been a handful of occasions in recent weeks in which she’d almost gone through with it, but as soon as it came to taking off her clothes, she’d freeze. She’d spent so much of her life hiding her scars that it felt alien to do otherwise. It had been almost a week since the last time she’d allowed herself to get carried away in the heat of the moment, driven by lust to throw caution to the wind; she’d been in his quarters and had become painfully aroused just listening to him read a passage from a book. She’d climbed into his lap, her kisses bruising and feverish, and he’d held her close and kissed her back with equal fervour, his broad hands roaming her body. Yes, Emmrich was definitely just as ready as she was.

And her scars were the only thing holding her back.

She’d remained wholly distracted for the rest of the evening, unable to think about anything other than getting Emmrich behind closed doors. And so, by the time they’d all decided to call it a night, she was all too happy to loop her arm through his and lead him away from the dining hall. She listened as he gushed over Lucanis’ skills in the kitchen, his appreciation for a delightful meal, and how exhilarating it was to share a story from his youth. As they reached the threshold of Emmrich’s quarters, he paused and turned to face her, a softness in his eyes as he took her hands in his own.

“Rook,” He said gently, and she hummed. “You know there is absolutely no pressure for our relationship to move forward, don’t you?” He ran his thumbs across her knuckles. “None whatsoever.” Gods, her heart ached with the affection she felt for him. She offered him a small smile and stepped into him, leaning up on the tips of her toes to press her lips to his. The kiss lingered for a few moments before she sank onto the balls of her feet and took a few steps backwards, towards her own quarters, letting go of his hands as she did so.

“Are you coming?” Is all she said, and after a moment, the corner of his lips turned up as he gestured for her to lead the way and followed in her stead. She tried to shake her nerves as she led him to her room, reminding herself how badly she wants, needs, this. She headed for the small meditation table before the expansive fish tank that filled the far wall, watching the candle flames flicker as Emmrich closed the doors behind them.

She listened to the steady, even stride of his approaching footsteps, and hovered a hand over the candles, the heat from the flames licking her fingertips. He was at her side, then, and she took another moment to admire the way the candles shone a fiery glow over her palm, the fish tank casting an icy blue hue across the back of her hand.

“I've never shared myself with anyone, not entirely.” She said into the peaceful calm of her room. “I've never known anyone that made me want to, y'know?” She pulled her hand away from the flames, turning to face where Emmrich stood, shoulders squared and hands clasped in front of himself, and nodded.

He was absolutely beautiful. The light of the fish tank cast his side in glorious aqua blue, his eyes appearing more green than hazel, contrasting with the warm shadows on his other side, candles all around them; and while dazzling was usually her go-to word to describe Emmrich, right now, it felt as though there were no words that would do him justice. His beauty, his kindness, his everything.

“But then I met you.” She said, and his eyes were so kind and earnest and caused an ache deep in her heart. “And those nights in the memorial gardens, you shared so much of yourself with me. Made me realise we were more alike than I ever realised.” His eyes dropped to the floor for just a moment, almost bashfully, the smallest smile tugging on his lips when he brought his gaze back to her own.

“You introduced me to your parents,” She continued. “You have no idea what that meant to me, Emmrich.” His eyes softened, chest rising as he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly through his nose. “You make me want to share everything with you.” He closed the space between them.

“If you are ready,” He said, tucking her long, lavender hair behind her pointed ears. “Then it would be an honour, my darling.” He brushed his knuckles along her jaw, and her throat tightened, her heart beating a little faster again. She leaned into his touch, lifting a hand to his chest, to the scar she now knew lay underneath. She glanced down at herself, then raised her chin to meet his gaze once more.

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?” She hoped the playful tone in her words would take the edge off the nerves pooling in her gut, and Emmrich let out a breathy chuckle. He said nothing, at first; just smiled down at her, his eyes warm and safe and kind, always so kind. She raised her eyebrows just slightly, and then his lips were on her forehead in a gentle kiss.

“Very well.” He took a short step back from her as he unclipped the gold chain across his waistcoat, and Rook watched his fingers intently as they worked their way down, one button after the other. Watched as they pulled the waistcoat over his shoulders and set it down neatly on the chaise lounge. Watched as they unfastened his belt, the sound of leather sliding along soft calluses as it unwound from his hips. Watched as they slipped into luxurious red, unravelling the silken sash around his midriff. His usual gold cuff and leather glove were absent from his ensemble today, and she marvelled at how beautiful his hands really were; soft and warm and purposeful, bedecked in the finest jewellery.

She could watch those hands at work for an eternity.

As he unclasped the dainty skull pinning his collar together, she tugged at the bottom of his shirt, untucking it from his trousers, and his lips turned up slightly. Heat rose in her cheeks as he began unfastening the buttons of his shirt, slowly exposing his neck, clavicle, and sternum. She worked from the bottom until their fingers met, knuckles brushing, and she inhaled deeply through her nose as he slipped the shirt over his shoulders, revealing his broad chest, the gold bangles on his forearm chiming as he removed his shirt completely and dropped it on top of his other clothes.

Emmrich had always cut a very fine figure; his tailored clothes made no secret of his slender frame, but Rook hadn’t expected his shoulders, his chest, to be quite so broad. She followed the lines of his frame as it dipped in at his waist, his soft and slightly toned abdomen, and finally observed the scar running from his left pectoral to his sternum.

She brought her hands to his chest, tracing the line of the scar with her fingertips, and goosebumps flooded his skin under her featherlight touch. She hesitated for just a moment when he tensed, before he visibly relaxed and let out a breath. She could feel the heat crawling from her cheeks to the tips of her pointed ears as she touched him, her pulse racing, while he remained wholly still, hands once again clasped in his usual composure.

He was beautiful.

“Emmrich,” His name was barely above a whisper, and she finally looked up to meet his gaze, finding him watching her, a vulnerability in his eyes and something akin to uncertainty. She returned her attention to his chest and leaned in to press a soft, chaste kiss to his scar.

“I know that I am not exactly,” He paused, and she looked up at him. “Well, you know.” She tilted her head to the side and he huffed, his cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink as he averted his gaze. “I'm no Davrin or Lucanis, let's say.”

Her brows came together, then, and she reached for him, taking his cheek in her hand and gently bringing his gaze back to her own.

“Emmrich,” She said, taking one of his hands and lifting it to her chest. “Do you feel that?” He glanced down to where she was firmly holding his palm over her racing heart, his lips parting ever so slightly, and hazel met violet once more. She smiled.

“That's what you do to me.” She said, and he chuckled bashfully. Her smile widened to a toothy grin, and added, “Among other things.” Emmrich laughed heartily, then, the pink in his cheeks turning a little darker, and she giggled, feeling the familiar ache begin to stir between her legs.

“You are beautiful.” She said as their mirth eased, and his throat bobbed as she took his other hand to her chest, guiding his fingers to the buttons on her shirt. “I want you to see me, too.” She tugged the bottom of her shirt from where it had been tucked lazily into the waistband of her pants, before letting her arms return to her side.

“Are you sure, darling?” He asked, and she nodded, taking a breath to steady her racing heart. He held her gaze for a moment longer before leaning down to brush his lips over her temple, and began unfastening the buttons. She closed her eyes and leaned into his kiss, the flush in her cheeks deepening, and gazed up into gorgeous hazel when he pulled back.

Though her racing heart wasn't because of her desires for the man before her alone, or the anticipation of what she knew was going to happen tonight – no, her heart was racing because she was finally letting someone in. Because she finally felt safe enough, finally had the desire to be truly intimate with someone, finally wanted to show someone the reminder of just how close she had come to dying; a fact that had utterly terrified her and shamed her as a member of the Mourn Watch.

But after Emmrich had confided in her about his own fears, she’d realised she’d found a true companion in him. And now, bearing themselves to one another, she knew she’d found her twin flame, her soul’s calling, and at long last was ready. Truly ready.

His fingers had reached the bottom of her shirt and he paused. She nodded, and he slowly pushed her shirt over her shoulders and she let it fall to the floor, and his eyes dropped to her naked torso. Her heart was pounding by now, and Emmrich's lips parted, his eyes darting across the expanse of her scars. Her breaths came a little shorter, a little faster, and she inhaled deeply through her nose and let it out slowly, willing her heart to slow down, willing for him to say something.

He lifted his hands, and she held her breath as he gently brushed her hair back over her shoulders, letting the long, lavender locks cascade down her back, and stepped back slightly.

“It was lightning magic,” She said, and Emmrich glanced at her before returning his gaze to her abdomen. “I mean-” She snorted nervously and gestured to them. “Obviously.” He reached for her, trailing his fingers over the lines branching across her body, disappearing underneath her pants.

The magic had entered her body just below her hip, the lightning forking up and down as it surged and left scorched skin in its wake. Jagged lines spread up and around her ribs, across her abdomen to her sternum and breasts; it branched down her thigh, coiling itself around her leg to her shin. The scars remained a deep, dusky pink, though they had healed many years ago.

“Rook,” He said quietly, his brow pinched together. She took a breath.

“They run almost the entire length of my body,” She said, and with trembling fingers, reached for the button on her pants. He placed his hands over her own, halting her, and swallowed hard when he knelt before her; he unfastened the button, pulled down the zip, and carefully tugged them down her thighs. She held onto his shoulders as she lifted one leg at a time so he could remove her pants completely, leaving her clad only in her undergarments.

He remained on his knees, his eyes roaming her body as he asked, “What happened?”

“The magic was beyond my abilities at the time,” She said. “I was tired of being told I wasn’t ready, that I couldn’t do it. I was so sure they were wrong, that I could prove them wrong, so…” She sighed. “I performed the spell in my quarters and I couldn’t contain it. I struck myself by accident.” She paused as her voice wavered. “And, uh,” She cleared her throat, blinking away the tears in her eyes. “It almost killed me.”

Emmrich's eyes shot up, then, and she could feel his gaze burning into her as she focused on the candles across the room, willing herself to calm, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I was terrified.” She admitted. “And I couldn’t tell anyone because what good is a necromancer whose greatest fear is dying?” Emmrich sighed, and she looked down at him, his brows drawn and such sadness in his eyes. She brushed her knuckles along his cheek. “But then… I met you.”

“Darling,” He said gently, so agonisingly gently, as he leaned into her touch. “I had no idea.”

“Of course you didn't,” She said. “Nobody does. I've never…” She trailed off, and he tilted his head to the side.

“You've never told anyone?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No,” She said, and his frown deepened slightly, before lowering his gaze once more to her scars. Then, he leaned in, and she inhaled sharply when he pressed a kiss to her abdomen.

“They are beautiful, Rook.” He said firmly, and placed another kiss on her hip. “You are beautiful.”

Her cheeks were blazing now, and she chuckled, threading her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, I don't know about that.” She said, and he looked up at her, his expression entirely too serious, and rose to his feet once more. She almost shrank back from the intensity of his gaze, and he took her face in his hands, cradling her jaw, his touch so tender she could have cried.

“I see you.” He said, and she swallowed hard as her throat tightened, tears threatening to fill her glistening eyes. “You are the most beautiful young woman I have ever laid my eyes upon,” He spoke so gently, so earnestly, and she sighed as she leaned into his touch.

“And,” He added, leaning in to brush his lips over hers. “There are none in this world more fortunate than I.”

She had never truly grasped what it could mean to be swept off her feet, but when his mouth met hers in a kiss so dizzying that it stole her breath and left her knees unsteady beneath her, she wondered if this was what it felt like. Her eyes slipped shut as she melted into him, chest-to-chest, their hearts beating wildly as one, hands cradling each other’s faces as though they couldn’t be close enough.

Lips fused in a slow, tender kiss, they moved back towards the chaise lounge. Rook reached blindly for the frame as Emmrich set a knee on the seat, sliding a hand down to her waist and around the small of her back as she found purchase at last and laid back, his body warm as he settled between her legs and leaned over her.

He trailed his lips along her jaw and down the length of her neck, his kisses gentle and unhurried and Gods, she was breathless as he reached her collarbone. The warmth of his breath left her skin tingling as his lips caressed her breast, then her sternum, and her heart all but soared out of her chest upon realising that he was slowly, and very deliberately, tracing the branches of her scars.

She couldn’t look away. Her chest rose and fell, watching as he took his time, eyes roaming across her skin, as though he was taking such care of where to place his lips next, worshipping her body with his mouth. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, sighing softly through parted lips as he kissed her stomach, then paused as he glanced down at her undergarments. His gaze met her own in silent question, his eyes softening when her answer came in the form of a single nod, and sat back on his knees as she lifted her hips to allow him to remove her underwear.

She blushed furiously when the corner of his mouth tugged into a deeply alluring smile, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her stomach, then her hip, before shifting further back on the seat and nuzzling the inside of her thigh with his nose, his lips barely brushing her skin, his eyes fixed on her own. By the Gods, the darkness in his lustful gaze sent a thrill running straight through her. He tucked his shoulders under her thighs, running his hands along her hips, and she gasped when he dipped between her legs and ran the flat of his tongue over her slit.

It was as though every nerve ending in her body was centred entirely within her sex, a feeling she could have only ever dreamed of; Emmrich worked his lips and tongue like a man starved, leaving her thighs trembling, chest tightening, toes curling. Every cell in her body was on fire, arousal pulsing through her, and she was breathless as she tipped her head back, her senses overwhelmed because his tongue, Gods, his tongue; warm and wet, gliding through her soaking folds, over and over, yes, yes-

“Emmrich,” She moaned, arching her back, and he slid a jewelled hand from her hip to her abdomen, his palm flat against her skin. She wasn’t going to last, not like this, the familiar feeling already beginning to swell deep within her core. She clutched his hand tightly, writhing against him, and cried out when he planted his mouth over her clit and began gently sucking, expertly rolling his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He groaned into her sex, the sound vibrating through her as he gripped her fingers that were closed over his own. She ached for release, was ready to beg for it, when the pressure building between her legs erupted with a final sweep of his tongue and she gasped sharply, her mouth falling open, her entire body tensing and trembling as her orgasm sent lightning surging from her core.

He slowed his tongue to gentle rolls as she rode out her high, his eyes fixed on her writhing body, marvelling at the way she moved and how utterly breathtaking she truly was - especially like this. Her moans gave way to breathy whimpers as her grip on his hand slackened, and with a satisfied chuckle, he turned to press his lips to the inside of her thigh and shifted to lean his forearms either side of her hips. He watched her chest rise and fall as she caught her breath and, admittedly feeling a touch smug, couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his mouth at the sight of her flushed cheeks.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asked. It was all she could do to nod, because she was infinitely better than alright; she’d never been made to feel the way he made her feel, had never experienced pleasure quite like that before, and certainly never dreamed Emmrich could do that with his mouth. She hummed when she felt his lips on her hip, trailing kisses along the forked branches of her scars across her abdomen and breasts.

“Amazing,” She sighed, and he huffed a laugh before his lips found her neck once more as he settled between her legs. Feeling his hardness pressing against her, she let out a breath and guided his face back to hers, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss. She moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue, running her hands down his chest and already feeling so dizzy with the way he was kissing her, his lips moving so easily, so expertly, with her own. Her fingers found the waistband of his trousers, and she pulled back from the kiss just slightly as she tugged at them.

“Take these off.” She whispered against his lips, and he nuzzled her nose with his own before nodding, brushing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth and making quick work of kicking off his boots and removing the last of his clothing. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach as their eyes met and he leaned over her once more, hooking an arm underneath her shoulder to slide his fingers along her neck, threading them in her hair, gripping her thigh around his waist with the other.

She cradled his jaw in her hands and stroked her thumbs across his cheeks, her heart racing and his eyes searched her own, seeking permission. She answered with a buck of her hips and he laughed breathlessly, the sound curling around her heart and spreading warmth through her chest. He turned into her hand to press a kiss to her palm, returning his gaze to hers for a moment before leaning his forehead against hers as he slowly pushed himself into her slick heat. She gasped, body tensing, her brows coming together as heat flooded to her cheeks because Gods, he felt amazing inside her.

His breath was hot on her lips as he waited, stroking her thigh with his thumb, hardly able to believe he was tangled up with her; Rook, the most courageous and dangerously breathtaking woman he’d ever known – and she wanted him. He pressed a sweet kiss to the tip of her nose, then her lips, and she relaxed, offering him a smile that could shatter the world as she nodded for him to keep going. Affection blossomed in his chest at the gesture, and he closed the space between them to press his lips to hers as he pulled his hips back and sank into her again, a low moan rumbling in the back of his throat.

And that sound drove her wild. She whimpered, parting her lips to kiss him again, and when his tongue swept in to caress her own, she moaned and wound her arms around his neck. He began rolling his hips into hers, his movements masterful, as though he'd spent an eternity making love to her. It felt so right. Their bodies fit together and moved perfectly, as one - and finally, for the first time in her life, Rook felt whole. Complete.

She broke the kiss to look into his eyes, her brow pinched and mouth open as she gasped with every delectable roll of his hips into hers. He'd never looked more beautiful than he did in that moment; pieces of his usually pristine hair hung over his forehead, his eyes dark with lust, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. A fire ignited within her, unfathomably powerful and burning exceptionally bright; she'd never felt this feeling before, but greeted it like a long lost piece of herself as she welcomed it - and Emmrich - into her heart.

“I love you,” She whispered, and something changed in his eyes, a recognition, an understanding, and he smiled; wide and bright and absolutely breathtaking.

He chuckled breathlessly and nuzzled her nose with his own as he said, “And I love you, my darling.”

She returned his smile, a joyous giggle escaping her lips, and gasped sharply when he thrust his hips into hers, harder now, and her eyes slipped shut as she tipped her head back and moaned. Emmrich buried his face in the crook of her neck, his moans low and deep, and she was sure it was the most beautiful and holy sound she'd ever heard. She wound her arms around his waist and up his back, her fingers digging into the skin below his shoulder blades, clinging desperately as a familiar feeling began coiling around her core, twisting and tightening and building and building, an intense pressure mounting, her entire body tensing and trembling.

“Emmrich,” She whimpered, and he removed his hand from where it had been buried in her hair to clutch the arm of the chaise lounge, gripping her thigh tightly with the other, practically growling into her neck as he drove his hips into her, harder, faster. She tightened around him, her mouth falling open and arched her back, the air forced from her lungs as her orgasm slammed into her with the staggering force of a hurricane. She gasped sharply into his shoulder, crying out and making a sound she was sure she'd never made before, and with that, Emmrich moaned loudly, his movements stuttering, thrusting hard and haphazardly as he came.

The pleasure was utterly blinding, her heart thundering and chest heaving, leaving her on the verge of feeling delirious. She pulled back to nudge his temple with her nose, words failing her, and he slowly lifted his face from her neck, eyes dazed and half-lidded. He glanced at her mouth before leaning down to kiss her, their breaths heavy as their lips parted and came together again, slowly and tenderly, as his hips slowed altogether.

She brought a hand from his back to cradle his cheek, and he pulled back just enough to find her gaze as she brushed her thumb over his top lip and smiled. He quickly returned the gesture, and she couldn’t help the giggle that followed, feeling utterly giddy for arguably the first time in her life. He chuckled, capturing her lips in a single, lingering kiss before pulling his hips back and all but collapsing on her chest.

She brushed his hair back as he closed his eyes, absentmindedly trailing his fingers up and down the length of her arm with a contented hum. She wasn’t sure how long they laid like that, tangled up in each other until their breaths became slow and even, their hearts beating as one; but after a short while, she looked down at him and smiled as she continued to smooth back his hair.

“The dishevelled look rather suits you, y'know.” She said after a few moments, and he snorted.

“Never.” He said with a sigh. “A gentleman is anything but.” Rook grinned.

“I had no idea gentlemen could fuck like that.” She quipped, and Emmrich barked a laugh, shifting to look up at her as he leaned his forearms either side of her hips.

“Darling, I can do much more than that.” He said, his voice dangerously low. She bit her lip, her smile bright and wicked.

“Oh?” He hummed. “Tell me more.” She said, and his tongue darted over his bottom lip before he raised a brow.

“I'd rather show you, my dear.” She laughed, patting his shoulder and closed her eyes, lying her head back.

“Give me a few minutes and I'll be good to go.” Her smile remained as he chuckled, and she felt his lips as he pressed a kiss to the scars between her breasts.

“I may need slightly longer to recover.” He mused. “But I will gladly do this again,” He kissed further down her abdomen. “And again,” Another kiss. “And again.” She hummed happily.

“Sounds good to me.”

[lavenderprose]

I think after the events of DA:TV there's probably an Exalted Council and Rook shows up with all of their companions in tow and I think a bunch of people are trying really hard to like. Not BLAME Rook for the Sixth Blight but also not NOT blame them? And I think it's emotionally draining and awful and I think Rook comes back to their rooms at the Winter Palace or Cumberland or wherever the fuck the Council takes place and cries and starts trying to self-isolate and just in general enters into a Shame Spiral a'la the Fade Prison. And I think the Veilguard shows up to the third or fourth day of session without Rook and Taash has smoke coming out of their nostrils and Lucanis is just barely hiding the fact that he has more knives than usual on his person and Davrin has his You Have Disappointed Father face on in full force and the room is twenty degrees colder than it should be literally just because Neve is there. I think Emmrich talks because he's the only person who can find it within himself not to absolutely holler--Bellara's already sympathy crying--and Emmrich basically lectures a room full of some of the most important people on the continent about duty and what's just and how cyclical this whole The World Gets Saved While You Lot Sit There thing has been--because Emmrich was a young man when the Fifth Blight happened, and the power grabs and finger pointing have NOT stopped since Archdemon Urthemiel bit the dust, and where has it gotten us? This goes on for over an hour.

Finally, hoarse and exhausted, Emmrich drops the mic with a very polite, very clipped version of, "If you continue to punch down at my spouse, who just SAVED THE WORLD, I'll be on you and you won't even see me coming" and then leaves with the rest of the Veilguard.

It takes the Council awhile to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Anyway yeah I think the Veilguard loves Rook.

[ellie-writes-games]

Spite Has Questions

Spite's a curious spirit and he's gonna make it EVERYONE'S problem. Emmrich tries to help in the most HIM WAY possible. I don't know how to tell you this, Lucanis, but you're going to need to give Spite "the talk." 🤣

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗ prev Part 9 of Burn After Reading banter series next ╚══════════════════════════════════════════╝Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request? Part of an on-going series of fan-writings. See the full Masterlist here.

Considering Lucanis' self-reported inexperience and Spite's general chaos-baby energy, it's a wonder Emmrich hasn't sat both these boys down for a talk. yet.

This is fanfiction written by me, @ellie-writes-games. These are NOT actual screenshots from the game. Peace, love, and mad props to the DA writers.