#emrook fanfic

[mercars-musings]

WIP Folder Ask Game

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. People can send an ask or comment about the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it! Aaaa tysm for the taggies @thedissonantverses <3 I actually got some of my WIPs names sorted out recently hehe:

DA WIP Folder:

Coming Home Breakdown: The Saga Emmrich FP Hissera Origins Hair Dye Babyyyyy Breaking In

No pressure taggies! : @sunny374940 @andthekitchensinkao3 @ofcrowsanddragons @taashyvashedan @sorrowsfallallaround @rookgallustroublesomehousehimbo

[nerdanel01]

rungs of gold (18+)

certain works of fan art have me thinking a little too hard about what piercings Emmrich may or may not have.

Emmrich x Gender Neutral Rook, lots of cock, genital piercings, jacob’s ladder piercing, smut implied at the end but not depicted

“That—that’s not—” 

Rook’s tongue felt thick in their mouth; clumsy. The sight in front of them had rendered them inarticulate, and more than a little stupid, with a sudden, dizzy rush of heat and need. 

The lines around Emmrich’s eyes deepened with amusement, and his mouth slanted fetchingly to the side. 

“Yes, dear?”

The last two functioning brain cells in Rook’s head cast the incredulous words upon their tongue:

“That’s not part of your grave dowry.”

Because a grave dowry—as Rook understood it—was gold that Nevarrans took with them when they died. Rook had seen some of the undead thralls in the Necropolis, bangles of gold stacked along their wrists and ankles, just like the bracelets Emmrich wore nearly to his elbows.

But, with a shock that had nearly stopped Rook’s heart (but left other parts of their body clenching, deliciously, in anticipation)—when Emmrich had undressed in front of them for the first time, unfastened his trousers and pulled himself free, he had revealed certain jewelry that Rook could not possibly imagine any skeleton wearing from beyond the grave. 

Rook had no idea how they would attach it. 

“A keen observation,” Emmrich replied, his widening grin tugging crookedly at his words. “When I pass on, I won’t be able to take these particular adornments with me; they are exclusively for the admiration and stimulation of the living.”

Emmrich’s hand dropped between his slender hips, long fingers grasping loosely around his swollen arousal, already red and weeping. The ladder of golden barbells that ran along the underside of his shaft winked seductively at Rook as Emmrich ran his fingers over them. Really, Rook shouldn’t be surprised. Whyever should Emmrich not be dripping in gold from head to toe? Look at him: gorgeous, precious—perfect, even without the embellishments of the studs in his ears and the rings on his fingers (and the piercings along his cock, which Rook probably couldn’t pull their eyes away from if they tried.) But Rook still wants to layer him in golden pendants and ruby brooches until he shines exactly like the treasure he is.

That—and Rook would also very much like to climb naked into Emmrich’s lap, to feel all that gold pressing up against them.

Emmrich’s hazel eyes sparkled as he watched Rook’s gaze trace the movements of his hand. 

“Darling Rook, if you like them so much, I will have the gold melted down into a bracelet, and ensure it is bequeathed to you after I am gone.” The laugh lines around the necromancer’s mouth deepened, though Emmrich did not make a sound beyond the shallow huffing of his breath, unsteady with lust. “A small token to help you remember me fondly.”

‘Fond’ was perhaps not the word Rook would use the memories such a token might recall to mind. But the idea of Emmrich’s genital piercings living a second life as a bracelet on their wrist humiliated them with a burning they admittedly did not totally despise. Swallowing, Rook drank in the sight before them and imagined what Emmrich would look like after he came—milky rivulets of his spend trickling between the gold barbells like beads of dripping pearls—

“Dear,” Emmrich began, then, his voice wavering, less sultry and far less sure of himself, “you seem a bit shocked—forgive me, I ought to have said something, not left it til the moment to reveal it to you. If it is too much…”

A dull whine from the back of Rook’s throat answered. “Not too much,” Rook managed to reassure him after finding their tongue, tearing their gaze away from Emmrich’s waist to meet his eyes. “Definitely good, I just…”

Rook’s eyes sunk back to Emmrich’s waist. Color heated their cheeks, and they asked: 

“Can I touch?”

In the periphery of their vision, Rook saw Emmrich jerk his head—a sharp, emphatic nod of his head, yes—and Rook took a step forward, closing the space between them. 

Hesitant—not for any lack of desire on their part, but out of a profound reluctance to hurt Emmrich—Rook groped gently along his shaft, tugging loose-fistedly along the hot swollen length of it, carefully not to pull too roughly on his piercings. But even that gentle touch left Emmrich stifling a satisfied groan in the back of his throat—and Rook matched that groan in kind, feeling the smooth, golden ball-ends of the piercings glide across their fingers, imagining what all that metal would feel like, dragging mercilessly inside of them. 

Croaked, weakly, “Wow.”

Just like that, the crooked grin was back on Emmrich’s face—though now he surveyed Rook through eyes heavy lidded with desire, his breath catching unevenly as Rook continued to stroke him. 

“I’m pleased you like it. I must admit, some partners have found it off-putting, in the past.”

Rook choked out a laugh. Honestly, it was taking all of Rook’s self control not to rip off their clothes and jump on it this instant, but they gathered that such a move would neither be wise nor entirely welcome. Still,

“That’s insane. It’s a huge turn on.” 

Emmrich answered this declaration with a gasp of delighted disbelief. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Rook affirmed with an emphatic nod of their head, swiping slow, firm and insistent at the weeping, red head of his shaft. Told him:

“Emmrich, you’re gorgeous.”

—and felt their stomach flip and clench in excitement at the way Emmrich’s cock jumped in their hand at the words, bloodflooded and thick. 

“How very fortunate I am that you think so.” Emmrich’s words came breathlessly, now; a faint blush was starting to spread across his cheeks. “Do you still want to…?”

Rook pulled on his cock, kissed his neck, kissed up to Emmrich’s ear. 

“Yes,” Rook swore, pressing the words and their hot breath against the barely-there evening stubble on Emmrich’s neck. They could feel their own cheeks burning at the thought of the dirty talk perched on their tongue, felt a little shudder of arousal run through them when their mouth shaped the words against Emmrich’s skin:

“Yes, you’d better—

“It’d be cruel of you to display yourself like this in front of me if you weren’t going to fill me up after.” Emmrich didn’t answer. And Rook shrank in on themselves, already ready to apologize for pushing things too far—Emmrich was such a gentleman, they should have realized he wouldn’t want to be spoken to like that—when they felt Emmrich’s long fingers on their chin, tilting their face up to his and pausing only to groan a low, “oh, darling…” between their lips before he was crushing their mouths together in a kiss so passionate it bordered on the obscene.

[themontess]

Writing and conceptualising my two streams of fanfiction really is like:

Rookanis - chronological, twenty+ well organised ideas from flirting to marriage, slow burn to spicy

Emmrook - idk, guess I'll start with him sucking them off on his desk, see what else I feel like

(Part 9 of Feather and Scale is coming out later, Part 1 of ??? sometime)

[bizzy424]

Emmrich Taking a nap in a well deserved comfy chair in his room 🥰

Little snippet I wrote to go along with this as well if you are interested. It's just a fluff piece that kind of prompted me drawing this💕:

Rook tapped on Emmrich's door with gentle fingers, "Emmrich, Darling?" She called out.

All she could hear through the thick ancient door was the soft crackle of the roaring hearth within. Maybe he's not in? she thought and timidly pushed open the door.

Her heart picked up in her chest as she laid eyes on the dapper Mourn Watcher slung leisurely across an elegant green leather sofa. His wine goblet had tipped over in his hand, spilling its contents down the side of the time worn seat. The book he was reading laid open and forgotten on his lap.

The serenity of the scene made Rook's chest swell with warmth as she gingerly slipped the book and goblet from his grasp and placed them atop his neatly organized desk. She snagged the woolen blanket he had tucked away behind some books and tossed it over him, careful not to jostle him too much.

Rook couldn't fight the tender smile that stretched across her lips as she took in the peaceful expression on his face, the love she felt for the man before her overwhelming her thoughts. She leaned forward, brushing the few stray strands of silver hair from his forehead and placed a delicate kiss to the crease between his brows that always formed when he slept.

"Hello Darling," Emmrich's voice was rough with sleep. Rook startled at the sound and met his eyes only to find that they glimmered with fondness as they looked up at her still blurred from sleep.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered.

Emmrich smiled softly and pulled her down into his arms; his lips pressed a chaste kiss to her temple and he tucked her into his embrace.

"Don't you mind that," his voice rumbled against her back as he spoke, "I will always treasure waking up to your smile my dear."

Rook's heart bloomed as the pair settled into the comfortable warmth of that cozy study until she, too, drifted off to sleep in the safety her lover's arms.

[shouldaspunastory]

Thank you @contreparry. For @dadrunkwriting

Tobias Rook x Emmrich Volkarin (SFW, Pre-relationship, pining), 521 words

-------------------------------------------------------------

It's ridiculous. Frivolous to be doing something so mundane as shopping when the whole world is threatening to come to an end. Particularly shopping for anything that won't immediately assist in avoiding that terrible outcome. That's what they'd told themselves while wandering through the night markets of Treviso, anyway. It was beautiful, sure, but unnecessary. Much as Tobias' eyes had lingered on it, the elf had stuck to the essentials, combing the market for any tradesmen or merchants that might have equipment, weapons, or materials to upgrade they and their companions existing gear.

It had come as a surprise then, the first time they visited their room in the Lighthouse after returning from the markets to find the windchime hanging in one of their windows, glass beads refracting the light, while a tiny golden charm striker and wooden tubes create a soft tinkling harmony on the breeze. It is every bit as lovely as they remember and imagined, and somehow makes their space feel more theirs.

Tobias smiles fondly, reaching out to slowly catch one of the golden striker and between their fingers, admiring the metalwork more closely. A soft tinkling, not made by their new decor comes from behind them and the elf's smile grows.

"I hoped you would like it," Emmrich offers with a small smile as Tobias turns to greet them. "I- I saw you admiring it in the market. You're so diligent about taking care of all of us, when you didn't get it for yourself, I knew I had to," the necromancer offers fondly.

There are a hundred things that Tobias wants to say. All of them, however, seem to stick in their throat as their blue-green eyes meet Emmrich's. He can't possibly know the reason why the chime had first caught their attention, that the gentle tinkle of metal and echoes of the wood striking against one another had reminded them of him and Manfred.

Emmrich is, of course, always welcome in their space, but the older man seems... hesitant to intrude upon their space or time, rather as if he thinks their patience for him and his presence might be finite. It's a positively ridiculous notion, one which the elf would very much like to disabuse him of, but they aren't certain how without showing their hand. A man as accomplished as Emmrich must surely be spoiled for choice when it comes to a partner of a more... romantic nature. Perhaps he has one already he left behind with the Mourn Watch. There's no reason to think that he might be interested in them.

That doesn't stop their foolish heart from hoping, though. Or from little things, silly things like the sound of a particular wind chime, reminding them of him and bringing a smile to their face.

"Thank you, Emmrich," Tobias smiles softly, dropping the striker and listening as it knocks gently against the tubes once more. "It's beautiful."

"You deserve beautiful things, my dear. Yes, we're saving the world, but it's also important to remember what we are saving it for," Emmrich says returning their gentle smile with one of his own.

[fangbanger3000]

WiP tag!

a thousand years ago i was tagged in some wip posts that i never got around to responding to, and i don't remember who tagged me, but nevertheless, i come to you with a new little side project i've been fiddling with while i work on wts. i'd like to see what @lizziemajestic, @underthedark0, and @forget-me-maybe are working on, if they're willing to share!! (or anyone else, really. i've been out of the loop for a while, show me your stuff!!!)

spoilers for early game DA:V

i present to you: solas x rook x emmrich, kind of, because tenuous connections are not always as tenuous as one might think. aka solas gets phantom-fucked by emmrich volkarin in the Fade.

He had indeed found Rook’s discussions with the professor Emmrich Volkarin most revelling as they discussed spirits and the Fade at a more advanced level than any of their companions. The professor was clearly a scholar of great renown and far greater experience, and Solas knew he would have enjoyed personally speaking with him.

But did he wish to know what the Mourn Watcher’s learned fingers could do once they breached the barrier of his smallclothes? Did he wish to know what his eloquent tongue tasted of? How it felt on his neck? How it explored parts between his legs that he had never personally possessed?

Perhaps. Had this been something he desired to explore, however, he would have done so on his own terms. These… were not his terms. They were not the professor’s, either, nor Rook’s. It was a most unpleasant and deplorable side effect of their connection.

He never did manage to master the art of blood magic. This was something he had regretted before, but solely because of how incredibly powerful it was when it was wielded by someone as competent as he. Or, well, as he could have been. Rook’s blood had struck the earth, and Solas had, just as he had when he created the veil, acted rashly in his panic. And for the first time in millennia, he felt the dooming quiver of inexperience.

The dank, swirling grey of sky above him momentarily flashed with lightning, and the unfelt wind in his prison gave the impression of needy sighs and gasps as the professor drove Rook to the precipice of pleasure. Solas ran a hand across his face and tried to ignore the slow-building ache of want forming in his own abdomen, but his constitution softened as the rest of him hardened.

Fenedhis.

His fingers restlessly picked at the leather straps keeping the gauntlet of his right hand in place. Perhaps… perhaps it would be easier for him to focus if he allowed himself some relief.

No. He could not. This was wrong. Unwilling voyeur or not, indulging in this way was immoral. He may not have chosen this situation on purpose, but he was the one who cast the spell. And the first thing Rook had said (yelled, to be more accurate) when she learned what had happened was get out of my head.

[andthekitchensinkao3]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag @elodiah

Today I have two batches of seven sentences, one for the DA: Veil Guard fic percolating in my caffeine soaked brain. The other for the Lokius horror fic.

In Stories Told and Forgotten (working title) we follow the protagonist of DA: Veil Guard through the events of the game. It may or may not be an outright fix-it fic. More of a what-if fic. What if the game had given me the same vibes of Enormous Stakes the way Inquisition did right off the bat? What if the game had kept some of the cultural tensions between humans, dwarves, elves and qunari? What if the major story decisions I made in Inquisition actually had an impact on Veil Guard? What if the story beats and the high stakes spilled over into your friendships and romances in any kind of way?

This makes it look like I don't enjoy the game. I do. But this fic is me bringing back some of the history of games past. And playing a bit with scenes that left me feeling a bit...meh.

Here is an excerpt from the prologue, which is Varric Tethras' POV, as he's tracking down our wayward Mourn Watcher, Rook:

---

Oldward sat in the middling region of Ferelden, smack dab between Redcliffe and Ostagar, and had all of one tavern doubling as an inn for the few and far-between transients that landed on its doorstep. It was there that Varric Tethras, surface-dweller and teller of stories, went looking for answers.

The inn itself was bog standard: a sturdy wood structure with fresh hay strewn across the dirt floor, the unmistakable waft of horseshit and vomit permeating the place. Varric approached the bar, eying the red-haired gruffian of a human make-believing his tankards clean. It was early in the afternoon, the sun hanging heavy in the sky. It lent the task at hand an appropriate touch of promise. Varric had come to the right place.

---

Aaand from the next chapter of The World’s Fair Hotel:

The thundering beat of Mobius' heart drowned out any other noises, as he and Victor crashed onto the next floor up from the basement. Ground floor, storage, a maze of inventory shelves and dark corners to hide in. Victor pulled him up, and they ran as well as they could with Mobius’ bandaged ankle inevitably slowing them down. O.B directed them over the TemPad in hushed whispers of pure urgency - this or that door, turn left or right, and this time around Victor made sure they didn’t take any wrong turns, because Holmes was in pursuit, and they couldn’t afford to give him any more of an upper hand.

And all the while, the only thought fixed in Mobius' head was how to find Loki. And how fast he could get to him.

---

Tagging everybody! And also, in no particular order, no pressure: @lokimobius @mirilyawrites @kcscribbler @distracteddream @blackbirdofasgard @mobiuscutemustache @mobiusisawholemood @mobiusismycomfortcharacter @impulsemuppet @devilbearingtrouble

[choccy-zefirka]

Your Emrook fanfics have been very cute but I am a little confused because in every story there is a different Rook. I really liked your pink Mourn Watcher girl but when I look for more stuff about her on your blog I keep finding other Rooks? It's a little confusing because usually people have one main character and ship on their blog

Yeah, sorry, I honestly really admire people who have one (1) OC that they consistently make content for, because I keep coming up with new ones (I even downloaded a mod that lets you have 99 Rooks on PC instead of 10). At one point, I actually attempted to tag all of my OCs but quickly gave up because the tag search was not returning all posts that I clearly remembered putting in there. I guess you will just have to bear with me, or send me asks if you are interested in a specific OC!

So far, the characters I ship with Emmrich are:

Evaraas Mercar, nb Qunari Shadow Dragon warrior; main source of character conflict — not knowing what "role" they have and fearing that their existence is not truly valid without a role

Hjördis Laidir, female elf Lord of Fortune mage; main source of character conflict — wanting to prove that she is not a coward and acting reckless to run away from her own fears

Lenore Aldwir, demigirl elf Veil Jumper mage; main source of character conflict — healing from childhood trauma caused by domestic violence and being bullied for her appearance

Beata Ingellvar, female dwarf Mourn Watch warrior; main source of character conflict — dealing with people who assume she is vapid and unintelligent because she enjoys a candy pink femme aesthetic

Araña de Riva, female Qunari Crow rogue; main source of character conflict — hating her profession and not believing that she can be a good person

I am also sorry to say that I am currently cooking a new Shadow Dragon Rook for Emmrich to explore ideas that did not fit into Evaraas' backstory

I sincerely wish my focus on OC creation was not as meandering, but I am just glad I am inspired to do OC stuff at all, considering the overall state of the world

[nerdanel01]

No. 8 - Substitutionary Satisfaction (NSFW/18+)

…Over the years she had only caught the tiniest peeks at Emmrich’s private rooms through his doorway, but the luxurious burgundy color of his bedsheets had pressed itself irrevocably into her memory. And it would smell so keenly of Emmrich, there, just as it had in the tent—like bergamot and pepper and dusty old tomes. Her imagination transfigured the chiming of Rolf’s belt into the clink of Emmrich’s bangles, the bracelets that adorned his arms, the many jeweled rings on his long fingers. 

When he entered her, Agnes was not thinking of Rolf at all.

She was thinking of all the things that she wanted but could never have. Of Emmrich’s hands on her body. The same elegant, well-manicured fingertips that would point out the most fascinating passages to her in whatever book or scroll he was reading; the same tanned, long-fingered hands that caressed her drawings with such reverent wonder (to be looked at once by him the way he looks at her sketches!); the same hands that now dug deeply into the meat of her hips, drawing Agnes’ body back towards his as he sheathed himself totally inside of her.

Agnes’ hand flew to her mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure and sheer relief that flooded through her, the warmth spiraling out from her stomach and flushing out into her limbs. The euphoria of fullness, the wanting in absence, and then the exhilarating rush of fullness again as Emmrich drew her back against him. The wet sound of their copulating, soft living flesh smacking against flesh and skin and meat each time Emmrich’s hips met the curve of her ass. The light rake of his nails down her bare back, his little huffs of breath as he thrust behind her. Giddying, mind-numbing joy as his fingers carefully unpinned the crown of hair around her head, sending black waves tumbling down her shoulders and around her face, running his fingers through it appreciatively.

In no time Agnes was writhing beneath him, arching her back to meet each of Emmrich’s thrusts, leaning into them to drive his cock deeper inside of her. So rapturous so gratifying so good one almost forgot to breathe, but then when one did—! Rockets of pleasure shooting through her body, coiling tight, driving her relentlessly towards her finish. 

Imagining the look on Emmrich’s face. His beautiful eyes, his mouth open and slack with pleasure. The drag of her name in his throat, what it might sound like spoken hoarsely around his satisfaction: “Agnes.”

Climax took her, white lightning of pleasure reducing her body to a trembling, sparkling, magnificent mess—all the tension she had carried in the Necropolis utterly unspooling into a warmth that carried her out of herself into a space of pure bliss, stifling her answering cry—“Emmrich!”—against the back of her hand.  [read full fic]

---

I’m really proud of all the writing I did this year! So for the last ten days of 2024 I’m going to be reblogging my 10 favorite pieces that I wrote.

This chapter from for no mere mortal can resist makes the list because 1) its the first Emmrook smut I wrote (if that counts, as Emmrich is not technically in it) and 2) ROLF. He's such a cad in this one, but for a character I made up for Agnes to basically bang and disdain, he's snuck into a bunch of subsequent fics, grown a lot, and now I kind of adore him. Himbo sleeper hit of 2024.

also @erikonil drew an incredible portrait of Emmrich's protective face that still makes me kick my heels and giggle when I think of it ❤️

[mercars-musings]

Will You Fall In Love With Me Again?

Fandom: Dragon Age - The Veilguard

Pairing- Emmrich Volkarin x TransMan!Rook {OC in particular}

TW- depicted: anxiety, self doubt, briefly mentioned psychological torture, failed attempt at calming ones self down from anger, self doubt; genre: reunion, hurt/comfort, angst, angst with happy ending, fluff. ~MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE END OF VEILGUARD ~

Description-

After trying to claw his way out of the fade for the past 7 years, Rook is pulled back into Thedas only to be confronted by the fact that time passes differently outside of the Fade.

{Aka. Rook is mentally decemated by his time in the Fade which leads to him & Emmrich having a heart to heart about how much they love eachother.} Ps. The title of this fic comes curtosey of my hyperfixation on Epic the Musical & the fact I can't listen to "Will You Fall In Love with Me" from the Ithica saga without thinking of these two fuckers ;-;

Word count- 3.6k

Read on AO3: Here!

~ ♡ ~

An unfamiliar chill settles deep within Rook's bones, raising the proverbial hackles on the back of his neck.

Cool air was nothing new, Rook had experienced the unreasonable coldness of the fade for years at this point. Every waking moment he spent there was accompanied by the numbness of exposed skin and the crystallisation of stray tears on his cheeks. Both being an unfortunate aspect of the new reality he had found himself in.

The coolness he was experiencing now, however, was far from the norm. This coolness prickled at his skin, stabbing into his muscles as if reawakening the nerves that had long since desensitised. It was rejuvenating in a sense. Rook might have actually welcomed the feeling if his mind wasn't already preoccupied with well… whatever the hell that was.

Just ahead of Rook, the air had begun to ripple and fluctuate. The entire fabric of the fade had begun stretching & contorting in gorgeous hues of blue & silver; the low crackling noise that emanated from it intensified with each new fracture beginning to form at the edges. It tugged at the world around Az, threatening to claw something unknown into existence. The view would be hypnotising if it wasn't so nerve wracking to see in the usually impenetrable walls of the fade.

Nothing could snap Az out of his terrified awestruck stare, that was until a loud crash ricocheted through the fade & a strikingly familiar hand burst through the centre of the disruption, with a fervour that could only be described as desperate and frantic.

"Is that…" Rook breaths, his voice catching in his throat before he could finish his thought.

"I believe that's your queue kid." A husky voice chimed in from behind him.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Az eventually looked over at his friend. He watched as a sad smile tugged at the dwarf's lips & a knowing look glinted in his eyes.

There's no fucking way… after all this time… ?

"ROOK!" A voice that Az had almost begun to forget screamed through the fade tear, "DARLING! FOLLOW MY VOICE!"

"It's not very nice to keep your friends waiting," the shorter man continued, nodding towards the rupture in the fade. "Or do you want to spend another 7 years flirting with frostbite?"

Az knew it was a joke, but it still seemed to help him finally snap out of the surprisingly comfortable haze he'd spent the last… Gods know how long, stuck in.

There was no way in Hell that he would spend another second in here longer than he had to.

Without another word, Rook dropped to his knees, throwing his arms around the Dwarf & pulling him in for the tightest hug he could possibly manage in his fatigued state.

"I'll miss you Varric", he mumbled after a few moments, once tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes.

Varric chuckled lightly as he returned the hug, tightening his grip around the younger mans shoulders for the next few moments.

"I'll miss you too kid… now will you get the hell out there & stop whatever shit chuckles' is up to this time?"

Rook snorted at the comment, slowly letting go of Varric before rising to his knees & giving a faux salute. However, before he could finish his jest, the crackling of the tear suddenly turned into ragged sputtering.

"We can't hold it open much longer-" Emmrich's voice echoed through the tear, before he was cut off by a more aggressive yell from the Veilguard's resident scout.

"Rook where the hell are you!?"

With that, Az turned on his heels and began to run at full speed towards the tear. Only glancing back momentarily to see Varric's form slowly dissipate into the rest of the fade as Rook was dragged forward & back into his own world.

~

Rook stumbled forward, barely able to keep himself from falling face first into the cobbled stone beneath him. Though, only just, as he instead felt himself crash onto his knees. Az didn't mind though, the coarse rubble that had begun to cut its way into the calloused joints helped ground him. The searing pain contrasted the almost numb aches he felt back in the fade, letting him know that wherever he was now, he was at least somewhere that let him be more grounded in his body.

"Rook…?" He heard the familiar voice from earlier, though this time it featured a hint of uncertainty.

Still somewhat dazed, Rook looked up towards the noise, only to be met with a face he'd never in his wildest dreams thought he'd get to see again. Wordlessly, Az stared up at the older man, his eyes widening into saucers as his chest swelled with something he hadn't felt for quite some time.

Hope.

However, the hope was soon joined by a wave of confusion as the man's eyes fully adjusted to the light.

Everyone looked… exactly as Rook remembered them.

Not similar, not very close, exactly the same. Like, no more than a month had passed since… but it had been years. Rook knew it had been years, he's felt the ache of every single day passing him by as he stayed trapped in the Fade, helpless to save his friends… his world…

After a few moments, Az realised everyone was still staring at him in wait.

He'd forgotten to answer Emmrich, of course he had. No more than a few moments out of the Fade and Az was already acting like a fool again.

Rook opened his mouth to try and offer some form of an answer. Though, no matter how hard he tried nothing seemed to be coming out, it's as if all the screaming he'd done in the fade had torn his vocal chords to shreds, and now outside of the Fade his body was finally able to reflect that.

Unfortunately, the pain in his throat was only the beginning. Soon Rook felt his limbs begin to weigh heavily and his joints start to grate. His stomach ached & his head began to swim as if his body was finally being crushed by the weight of the exhaustion that had made itself at home in his bones for so long.

Before anyone knew what was happening, Rook collapsed forward onto an astonished Emmrich once again. Unable to stay conscious for much longer, Az mustered up the strength to utter one final, disbelieving phrase.

"You came for me…"

~

Upon opening his eyes, Rook tiredly looked around him, taking in the dark grey landscape that expanded far beyond his view. The cold air nipped at his skin once again as a familiar numbness began to seep back into his bones.

Az bowed forward, as the realisation dawned on him, his body shook as his frame curled in on itself and tears stung the corners of his eyes anew.

He hadn't escaped.

He'd just fallen for another one of the prisons cruel tricks.

How could he be so foolish as to think that he'd actually make it out of here? Never mind back into the arms of the man he ached so deeply for.

Frustration bubbled beneath the surface as Az trembled in place, the rage that he had managed to subdue during his first few years in the Fade was now starting to claw its way back up into his mind yet again.

In an attempt to stave it off, Rook shakily raised a hand to his chest, pressing lightly into the middle of it as he tried to remember the breathing exercises that Emmrich had taught him all those years ago.

In for 3… hold for 3… out for 3… & Repeat.

The years he had spent in the Fade hadn't been kind; during each & every moment he had been plagued with his doubts, his fears & his regrets. With each step he took he was reminded of every failure in his life & with each breath he was reminded of the good that he would never get to experience again.

So of fucking course this was just another trick.

In for 3… hold for 3… out for 3… Repeat.

Why not right?

Nothing in this Gods forsaken place would ever let him go.

In for 3… hold… out for 3…

It was a prison built for Gods, and Rook was no God.

Of course he wouldn't be able to escape.

In for 3… hold…

The odds were stacked against him, as always.

It wasn't fair.

None of this was fair.

In for 3…

All he had ever tried to do was help others: help Tevinter do better, help Varric find Solas, help his friends battle their own demons, help the world save itself from the worst of the worst.

And what was his reward?

Torture.

And with that thought, the rage had officially gnawed its way into his throat and he had to let it out before it consumed him once and for all.

~

An ear splitting, heart wrenching scream ripped its way through Rook as he lurched upright. The scream wracked its way through his body, racketing through his already tender vocal chords and into the dim light of the room he found himself in.

Az might've started to panic that the darkness that surrounded him was just more of the fade, if there wasn't a sudden dip in the bedding to the left of him. The new & independent movement caused Rook's head to snap in it's direction, only for him to be greeted by a silhouette that he hadn't seen in years.

Due to his stint in the darker parts of the Fade, Az's eyes were able to adjust to the dimness of the room quite quickly & after a few moments his breath painfully caught in his throat.

It was Emmrich.

"Darling, are you alright?" His Amatus' cooed.

Rook barely heard the question though, between the pounding of his heart & the blood rushing through his ears it was a wonder how he could hear anything honestly. So, instead of answering, he simply stared incredulously at the man before him, trying to process his words.

Was he alright?

After a few moments, Rook shook his head slightly, trying to push past the adrenaline pumping through every limb of his body.

"What happened? W-where's Elgar'nan?" Az managed to choke out, his throat still seemingly sensitive from whatever damage it had sustained in the fade.

Emmrich raised his hand slowly, cautiously hovering it over Az's as he waited for some form of confirmation from the Qunari. Instead of saying anything, Rook simply raised his own hand to meet Emmrich's & in return the older man immediately interwove his fingers with Rook's.

"Dearest, it's okay. Nothing has happened yet." Emmrich answered in a hushed tone, seemingly trying to keep his voice quiet enough to not startle his lover any further.

"W-what do you mean nothing's happened yet?" Az sputtered.

Nothing means, he's still out there. But if he's still out there how are they still in Emmrich's room in the lighthouse? Wouldn't he have levelled half of existence by now?

"We're still looking for him Az," Emmrich began, placing his free hand on Rook's cheek. "Which means we're safe."

"We're safe," Az muttered back, half in response to his lover & half in an attempt to convince himself.

It didn't make any sense, did the team and Elgar'nan enter a stalemate after they'd taken Ghilan'nain off of the board?

If they had, surely the stalemate couldn't still be happening, it had been years… but Emmrich wouldn't lie… not to Rook and definitely not about something this serious.

Although everything in his body screamed at Rook that there had to be a mistake, that none of it made sense… Rook was weaker than he'd like to admit. The idea that things hadn't completely gone to shit in the last few years was too tempting… and the idea that Emmrich was lying to him was too much to bear right now.

So, any argument he tried to form simply died on his tongue, and after a few minutes of trying to protest, Az's better judgement became easily overridden by his desire to lean further into Emmrich's touch.

The necromancer's gentle touch was a feeling Rook had almost begun to forget, though feeling it again seemed to thrust the memories back to the forefront. Warm, soft hands… eyes full of genuine adoration… the scent of Lavender & freshly turned dirt. The latter meant he must have visited the Necropolis recently, good to know that it was still around.

Taking a few seconds to reacquaint himself with his lover's features, Az's eyes traced along every crease that had been earned over years of life; every freckle whether it had been there the day Emmrich was born or whether it simply appeared one random Tuesday; and every well, everything that had made itself at home on his Kadan's face.

Enamoured wasn't a strong enough word…

Seemingly amused by how enraptured Rook had become, Emmrich brushed his thumb against Az's cheek, tightening his other hands grip in Rook's own hand.

"I've missed you so much Darling."

A gentle blush began to spread along Rook's cheeks as he tried to tear his eyes away from Emmrich sheepishly, though he'll admit he had done a pretty shit job at it since his eyes didn't even really budge.

It had always been so hard to look away from that man.

Sadly, all this wonderful bliss still couldn't fully silence Rook's cascading thoughts, especially not…

"Please… tell me this is real." Az blurted out, practically begging for the reassurance as he tightened his grip around Emmrich's hand. Tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes again, threatening to break the dam that kept them at bay.

In response, Emmrich simply leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against the corner of Rook's eye, seeming to stop one of the tears in its tracks.

Az blinked momentarily, tears slowly starting to roll down his other cheek before wordlessly, falling into the necromancer. Sobs started to rack their way through his body yet again, though this time, for a very different reason.

He was home…

His joints ached as his body trembled against Emmrich's, though the pain could be a problem for future Rook, for now all Rook cared about was finally being able to hold his lover again.

Emmrich wrapped his arms around the larger gentleman, moving the hand he was using to hold Rook's cheek and placing it on his back. Slowly he rubbed circles on the Qunari's back in a motion that he knew Az had always found comforting.

"I never… I can't believe I'm here" Rook managed to choke out after a few moments.

"Nor I, dearest." Emmrich whispered, smiling slightly as Rook raised his head and their eyes met once more. "I was worried I'd never get to see that charming smile of yours again."

This earned another blush from Az as he felt his stomach flip slightly in the way that only a heartfelt compliment from Emmrich could make it.

"How… how long?" Az finally thought to ask, once his shyness subsided.

"Two weeks…" Emmrich sighed, shifting his gaze to their still interlocked digits momentarily before returning his gaze back to the man before him.

"Two-?" Az choked out, jolting backwards slightly as his wide eyes met Emmrich's sad ones.

The pair sat in silence as Rook's brain tried to work it's way through the answer he'd been presented with. The utterly ridiculous, observably incorrect answer…

Two weeks…

Two weeks?

But… how?

Rook knew it had been longer than that, he had lived it for fucks sake.

And then, a skin crawling thought, wriggled its way into Az's mind.

Breaking from Emmrich's embrace, Rook swung around and frantically opened the bedside cabinets. He flailed his hand around in each cabinet until he found the old hand mirror that he knew the professor kept nearby for emergencies.

Emmrich snapped his fingers which brought the lamp on the bedside table to life, seemingly knowing exactly what Rook was trying to do.

As the Qunari's face came into view in the mirror, a gasp caught in his throat.

He looked like absolute shit, which was to be expected after how long he'd been in the Fade alone. Though, what really alarmed him was the obvious signs of ageing that had now made themselves known on his features: his pink hair was now mostly greyed; deep wrinkles that were once only noticeable when Rook had slept particularly awfully were ever present; his face was paler; new cuts were making their way into scars; & his makeup had long since faded.

He looked early thirties now while Emmrich still looked…

"Emm…" Rook mumbled, realisation setting in that his lover {give or take a few extra bags under his eyes} looked the exact same as he had the day that Rook…

And with that, the dam broke once more.

"Gods, these fucking tears!" Az growled through gritted teeth, using his free hand to aggressively brush them away. "You'd think I'd be too fucking dehydrated to cry after…"

The words get stuck in his throat as all the pain & fear that surrounded him in the Fade returned two fold, crashing down on him as tried to wrap his head around the shifting of his world yet again.

"… after 7 years." Az finally muttered in disbelief.

Emmrich's eyes widened at the length of time Rook had seemingly been left alone in the fade to suffer while he - the so called "Fade Expert" - had floundered to find an entrance into the prison.

Now, Emmrich was no fool, clearly his beloved had aged somewhat, meaning longer than Two weeks had definitely passed by for him but… 7 years? That's almost the entire length of time it took for Emmrich to earn his professorship!

"My dear…" Emmrich was the one to choke on his words this time, "I am so sorry I wasn't able to find you sooner… to save you from…" Pausing, Emmrich seemed to weigh his options before he finally settled on the question he needed an answer to the most. "What happened?"

Az wanted to joke: say something that would make Emmrich smile again, something that would cut through the heavy feeling settling in his own chest and making him feel like he would all but suffocate under all of the days revelations. But… after seeing the genuine concern etched into his partners features, Rook decided that he would try to be brave & answer genuinely for a change.

"Nothing… good." He sighed, "the things I saw… the grief I felt… I don't know- how to… explain it." Rook admitted, turning his gaze down as his hand found its way back to Emmrich's and the men interlocked their fingers once more.

Emmrich's energy shifted after Rook's admission, changing to be more comfort oriented rather than fear centred. He couldn't change how long it had taken them to rescue Az but he could certainly be there for the man for as long as the spirits allowed.

"Take all the time you need my Darling Boy," Emmrich cooed, taking Rook's chin in his free hand & gently raising it so the younger gentleman was eye to eye with him again. "However long you need… I'll be here for you."

A short breath left Az as their eyes met, the Qunari seemingly freezing in place momentarily.

"Are you sure?"

Emmrich raised an eyebrow slightly, confusion now painting his features. "Of course Az, why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm not the same person," Rook croaked, "The pain, the fear, the rage it… it helped me survive in there but now that I'm out- I'm not sure… I don't think I know how to- to deal with it all. And I don't expect…"

Az trailed off, unable to continue speaking his train of thought aloud in fear that he would let slip the fear that had been squirming at the back of his mind since he'd realised he really had escaped the Fade.

"Az… talk to me. Please" Emmrich pleaded, concern lacing every word once again.

He was really bad at pretending not to be concerned, pretending not to be freaked out… well pretending anything really. He was an awful liar, it was something Az found so incredibly adorable about his Amatus. It used to brighten his day but… not right now.

Right now, Az was scared.

"What if… what if you hate the new me?" Rook asked, his voice barely a whisper at this point.

Emmrich's eyes softened as his partners words sunk in.

Of course Rook's self doubt would return stronger now than ever before, especially after all the torment he'd just been through.

"I do think it's far too late for that possibility to rear its ugly head, Dearest." The necromancer answered, slowly moving his hand from Rook's chin to brush a piece of greying hair behind the Qunari's ear.

A light blush formed across Az's cheeks once again, causing a smile to dance across Emmrich's lips as he continued. "I've fallen much too hard… I fear I shall fall in love with every single version of you My Dear."

A moment passed as Emmrich's answer settled over the two gentlemen, and although Rook knew it would be a long time before he could truly believe it, it seemed like this was all the confirmation he needed for right now.

Before he could really register what his body was doing, Az found his free hand had made its way to Emmrich's waist coat, grabbing a hold of it and pulling the necromancer closer as their lips crashed into each other. Az ignored the shooting pain in his joints in favour of relishing in the love of the man he had spent the last 7 years dreaming of.

Responding just as emphatically, Emmrich lurched forward though, slightly to the side of Rook, placing himself further into the bed. He deepened the kiss as he pulled Rook into him, opting to be the one to take the brunt of the weight, as they fell deeper into each other.

Both men's chests swelled with a warm feeling that they both had missed dearly in their time apart.

Love.

[nerdanel01]

No. 10 - Tipsy

Still holding his hand, grinning playfully, she bent her knees and bowed her head in mannered, practiced curtsy. Emmrich matched her smile and bowed his head in kind, before wrapping his free arm around her waist—and then, they were off, Agnes keeping time with her humming, Emmrich wheeling them around in the grass to match the pace she set: one, two, three; one, two, three; taking extra precautions to make sure he did not trample her bare toes beneath his dress shoes. 

…Strange, wasn’t it? Emmrich had done all of this for her, for Agnes. And yet somehow through his vicarious experience of her joy, through the dizzy, fizzy freedom of the champagne swimming in his blood, he found himself feeling so present, so whole, so much fuller than he had in a very long time. 

The melody of the song shifted—driving, mounting, a crescendo towards its conclusion. Emmrich lifted their hands once more, spun Agnes once, twice, three times in a row, her skirt rising with her momentum to twirl like a black wave around her knees as she laughed again in delight. Then Emmrich drew her back to him, and—hands tight about her waist to secure her (they were both, after all, a little tipsy)��dipped her body low over his bent knee. 

Cricketsong and river-breeze. Time had not stopped, but it felt like it had: like Emmrich’s heart had stopped beating, like he could not draw a breath. In a flash their dance had transformed from a fancy into… he did not know what. All he knew was that he could not pull his eyes away from the silver moonlight caught in her hair, the nervous smile on her face… the cold, then warm, then cold again shock of the world-tilting look of breathless anticipation, of hope in her eyes. 

The intrusive, wholly inappropriate urge to draw her warm, slender body against his and kiss her deeply. [read full fic]

-----------------

I've been in a little bit of a creative rut lately, but I really want to end the year on a positive note—I'm really proud of all the writing I did this year! So for the last ten days of 2024 I'm going to be reblogging my 10 favorite pieces that I wrote.

This chapter from for no mere mortal can resist is one of my favorites. I'm pretty sure it's the first time I wrote Emmrich's POV, and I loved the way shifting to his perspective at that point in the fic really shifted the dynamics of the story. It's also the first time I sent them to the opera. <3 And also, of course, I love Emmrich's little "oh, shit" moment here, which sort of kicks off the final action and climax of the fic.

[nerdanel01]

No. 7 - the marriage proposal from Love Is A Stranger

Several things—bizarre, inexplicable, and world-shattering things—all happened at once then, in a stupendous and stupefying sequence.

Firstly: that Emmrich let go of Eric— willingly, without fight. Agnes had somewhat suspected she’d never be able to part them without physically prising Eric out of his father’s arms ever again. He unwound their child from his waist, and placed him, delicately, onto his stomach, back on the heavy blanket they had set out upon the floor.

Secondly: that—in fully the weirdest, most off-putting display of necromancy Agnes had ever seen Emmrich commit (and he had done some weird shit)—with a gesture and a bit of wordless magic, he had summoned a macabre joinwork of skeletal hands waving on skeletal forearms, ensconcing Eric with enough room for him to roam on hands and knees, but without the possibility of him wandering far and hurting himself, or getting filthy, or putting something in his mouth he oughtn’t. Effective, perhaps—but also, nightmare-inducing. Eric—who was too young to recognize bone matter when he saw it, and lacked even the cognitive wherewithal to know what a bone was —found the entire trick delightful, and was giggling gleefully from his osseous confines.

Thirdly: that Emmrich was stalking towards her with a look of starved determination, like a wolf in winter on the doorstep of death.

Fourthly—and the last thing she noticed, before her world inverted and shook her about like a piggy bank from which it was trying to extract, not so much coins, but the hope of coins, coins imagined, stuck somewhere in ceramic recesses; and the violence of that shaking was such that Agnes was not entirely sure it had really happened—she swore she heard him muttering indignantly under his breath, something that sounded suspiciously like,“what I must do…”

Then he snaked an arm around her waist, tilted her chin up to his face, and kissed her full on the mouth.

She had been prepared for this morning, for this confrontation—this negotiation of Eric’s future—to go any number of ways, but this had decidedly not been one of them. She went utterly limp with shock—like a corpse freshly dead, before rigor had begun to set—and would have fallen to the ground completely, had it not been for Emmrich’s grip around her, holding her fast against him. 

He kissed her softly, gently, and her heart pounded madly against her ribs like a rabbit trying to escape a trap; it made no sense. He had said he wanted nothing to change between them. He had said….

He pulled his mouth away from hers to breath into the space between them, to brush the words against her lips, much too kindly, much too patiently:

“Was that so loveless to you?”

Loveless? Love? Was this love? Her heart afire like it was going to fail, a panicked sweat breaking out across her brow, her stomach performing world-class circus acrobatics. Oh, heavens—would she even know love if she saw it, now? It had been a stranger to her from the death of her mother, through the long and lonely years until the birth of her son. And the love she felt for Eric never made her feel so feeble and frightened, as she did now, like a cornered animal.

“Emmrich….”

Both low warning and plea.

“Nessa, forgive me,” he said—hearing him call her by that old endearment felt as warm and comfortable as sinking into a hot, just-drawn bath—and his long-fingered warm hand came to cup her face, and she thought, ‘what for? It is I who absconded with your firstborn.’ But his next words sent icy chills down what little spine she had left. 

“All this time, I did not see. I have been an utter fool. I had no idea.”

He spoke with such sober, sagacious understanding, and Agnes was terrified: terrified of what he had seen in the blank spaces between her words, in all the things she had not said. Her heart felt as though it was about to arrest. He kept his forehead kissed to hers, and his thumb stroked away the sudden tears spilling down her cheek as he spoke:

“Already you are the mother of my son. Be my beloved; be my wife; and be assured there will be nothing loveless about it. Lay down beside me each evening in this waking life, and let those who outlive us lay your bones beside mine in death, or else suffer my wrath at being parted from you. Agnes Gallatus, my brave and brilliant companion, marry me, and grant me the privilege of loving you for the rest of our mortal and eternal days.”

…Agnes had accused him of insincerity, but now, Emmrich smacked of sincerity. He was the very picture of sincerity. The sincerity and warmth and affection in his brown-flecked green eyes was, quite frankly, both astonishing and a little embarrassing for Agnes to behold, and it rendered her utterly mute.

He had measured the black hole of her heart by its perimeter alone, though she had never made mention of it. He had seen in that pit everything she had never said, so transparent, so see-through, so paper thin was she to him after all these years. He had seen it, plucked it free, and he had spoken it aloud—voiced her heart’s most sacred, impossible desire, as though doing so did not threaten to rend her to shreds—and all but promised her that she could have it. 

After all these years, he had unmade her in an instant, ripped away all the walled protection she had built around her heart to keep her sane, to keep her safe.

And then—with infinite grace, for which Agnes might have kissed him herself if she could have managed to make her mouth obey her thoughts—Emmrich gave it all back to her. He gave her a choice.

“Or don’t,” he said, simply, and stepped away from her, leaving her heady and jelly-legged and propped against the kitchen table behind her. “Tell me no. You owe me nothing, and I will not resent you if you prefer a… different path. I want you, but only willing; and if you do not want me, I will not abandon you to the whims of my father. I will support you in finding a way for this to work for both of us—most of all, for Eric.” 

Agnes felt the world re-solidify beneath her feet, only for the whole if it to go wobbly and uncertain again when Emmrich concluded with his final coup: 

“But do not deceive yourself nor dishonor me ever again, Agnes, by implying either directly or indirectly that I would have married you merely out of convenience. Out of obligation, or duty.” His mouth—his mouth which he had very recently and most unexpectedly pressed against her mouth, her mouth which still burned with the memory of his upon it—twitched beneath his dark mustache into a wistful smile. 

“You are—have always been—much more to me than that.”

…was this love? This roaring of her own blood in her ears, this incoherency? This breathlessness as she fisted her hand in his shirt and drew him near to her again, whispered his name—

“Emmrich…”

—as he whispered breathlessly back, “yes…?”

Agnes kissed him softly—tentatively—almost suspiciously, with her eyes still open; the faintest, most virginal brush of her lips against his. His eyes fluttered closed when her mouth met his; before he could blink them open again she pressed a bolder kiss to his lips; then another.

And he did not run. He did not stop her. He did not change his mind. He did not bargain or plead or try to negotiate with her. When she withdrew, Emmrich only looked at her with infinite patience—looked at her mouth with gentlemanly restraint, with thinly veiled hunger. 

Agnes parted her legs; Emmrich sidled his lean body between them. And she kissed him, then, properly: open-mouthed, eyes closed.

And he kissed her in a way he had never kissed her before—none of the guilt, nor the shame, nor the restraint that had dogged and chained him when they had first collided so many months ago—full-bodied, groaning obscenely into her mouth. Agnes (who had not been touched with desire since that night, and—since Eric’s birth, and the utter mangle it had made of her body—had rarely since even touched herself) felt herself go wet at the sound alone. Her hands gripped his hips, pulled him nearer, and Agnes cried aloud, piteously, nearly undone at the irrefutable evidence of his enthusiasm pressing hot and urgent against her thigh. It did not seem prudent, to be rutting with Emmrich on her kitchen table with their infant son mere feet away... but each incredulous, half-gasped moan of pleasure that Emmrich poured hotly into her ears went straight to her gut; sent tingles down her spine; sent her back arching off the table—it would not take her long, she would not last—

The table shuddered beneath them.

The hot pot of half-burned porridge began to roll off its trivet.

Emmrich was faster than Agnes. With a half-muttered curse, he grabbed the pot, bare-handed—swearing again as his skin made contact with the hot iron, setting the precariously wobbling pot upright before it came away an ugly, raw, red. When he met her eyes again, he did so with an embarrassed laugh, a blush sweetly coloring the high points of his cheeks.

Agnes took his hand between hers, pressed a kiss to his fingertips as her magic washed over him—simple, elementary healing magic, the kind Emmrich had taught her how to master—soothing the burned skin, then repairing it entirely. Long past the point when his hand was renewed, she kept brushing her fingers over his palms, her eyes locked on his.

“When I return to the Necropolis today,” he told her, deep-voiced and throaty but smiling all the while, “do I have your permission to share the good news with Johanna?”

“What good news?” she teased him, pressing a coy kiss to the tip of his nose before ducking out of his arms, sweeping Eric out of the morbid playpen Emmrich had erected to contain him. “And put that ghastly display away, now, will you?”

With a gesture, the bone crumbled to cremains. Lovely. Agnes would have to beat the blanket out in the sun, to launder it heavily before she let Eric anywhere near it again. Before she could berate Emmrich for this, he slipped his arms around her waist, tucked his chin over her shoulder, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and told her the good news:

“That you are to be my wife.”

Agnes quirked her lips in a bashful smile, glad for the way his head was tucked against her shoulder, for it hid somewhat the girlish look she was wearing from gaze. 

“I don’t recall agreeing to your offer.”

“Are you refusing, then?”

“...No.” 

Agnes turned in his arms, Eric nestled safe and warm between them. And her cheeks were really aflame now. And she could not help it; and she did not care.

“Andraste preserve me, I don’t know how I’ll ever have the heart to refuse you anything now, Emmrich Volkarin,” she told him, in a tone that might have been chiding, if it were not so saturated with fondness. “You have won. I will love you; I will be your wife; I will gladly be wholly and utterly yours.” [read full chapter] --- I’m really proud of all the writing I did this year! So for the last ten days of 2024 I’m going to be reblogging my 10 favorite pieces that I wrote.

This is excerpted from my accidental pregnancy/Dad!Emmrich fic. I'm proud of Love Is A Stranger in general—I basically wrote it on a whim because two people enabled me—but this is probably one of my favorite passages in the whole fic, where all the miscommunications are finally getting resolved and Emmrich finally gets to be full devastatingly passionate and charming.

[mercars-musings]

~ WIP Wednesday ~

aaaa tysm for the tag @andthekitchensinkao3 !!!

Here's a segment of my rendition of Az leaving the fade!

It's part of a longer piece I'm writing on his return & his realization of the fact although he was stuck in there for 7 years {fade time} the team only experiencing his disappearance as 2 weeks!

-> MASSIVE END GAME SPOILERS AHEAD FOR VEILGUARD <-

Cool air nips at the exposed skin peaking through the tears in Az's robes, the chill setting deeper into his bones as he stares forward in a strange mixture of numbness and astonishment.

The air rippled before him, the entire fabric of the fade seeming to contort right in front of his eyes in gorgeous hues of blue and silver. Slowly, fracture after fracture appeared around the edges, nipping at the world that Rook had grown unwillingly accustomed to, until a familiar hand frantically burst through the middle.

"Is that…" Rook begins, breath catching in his throat as his eyes grow wide.

"I believe that's your queue kid." A husky voice uttered from somewhere behind Rook.

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Rook eventually looks over at his friend. He watched as a sad smile spread its way across the Dwarfs face, a knowing look glinting in his eyes as it does. Unluckily for Rook, just looking at his friends face again was enough to send tears stinging at the edges of Az's eyes.

There's no fucking way… after all this time… this was finally happening?

"ROOK!" A familiar voice screamed from the fade tear, accompanied by a loud crackling noise that was emanating from the rift. "DARLING! FOLLOW MY VOICE!"

"It's not very nice to keep your friends waiting," the shorter man continued, nodding towards the rupture in the fade. "Or do you want to spend another 7 years wallowing in here?"

With that, Rook seemed to fully snap out of the haze he'd been trapped in, eyes widening as the prospect settled in. There was no way in Hell that he would spend another second in here.

Glancing between the tear and his friend Az let out a groan of frustration. There was so much more he wanted to say, so many more questions he had but it seemed like he really had run out of time here. So instead, As opted to drop to his knees & threw his arms around the Dwarf, pulling him in for the tightest hug he could possibly manage in his fatigue ridden state.

"I'll Miss you Varric", he mumbled, tears starting to roll down his cheeks & onto his friend's jacket. "And… thank you… for everything."

Varric chuckled lightly as he returned the hug in kind, tightening his grip around the younger mans shoulders for a few moments as they simply stayed there. Silence emanated through the room, the only noise being the crackling of the fade tear and the low hum of the fade.

"I'll miss you too kid… now Andraste's Knickers will you get out there & stop whatever shit chuckles' is up to this time?"

Rook snorted at the comment, slowly letting go of Varric before rising to his knees & giving a faux salute.

"Yes sir-" but before he could finish his jest, the crackling of the tear suddenly turned into ragged sputtering.

"We can't hold it open much longer-" Emmrich's voice echoed through the tear, before he was cut off by a more aggressive yell from the Veilguard's resident scout.

"Rook where the hell are you!?"

With that, Az turned on his heel and wordlessly sprinted towards the tear. Only glancing back momentarily to see Varric's form slowly dissipate into the rest of the fade, before he was lunged forward back into his own world.

~

No Pressure Tags for If Youse are interested in posting part of your WIPS! : @thedissonantverses @sunny374940 @hyperions-light @ofcrowsanddragons & literally ANYONE else whose got a WIP rn! :3 <3

[mercars-musings]

Seven Sentence Sunday Jan 12 / 13?

Ok so, idk if this is cheating since it's from a posted piece but like I LITERALLY posted it 10 mins ago!!! I only meant to clean it up to grab a few sentences for this and well... anyway

Thankies so much @andthekitchensinkao3 for the tag!!! <3

This is from that Rook finally gets out of the Fade Prison after 7 years piece that I've been working on!!!

Ps. { You can find the full piece on my blog OR AO3: Here! }

~ MAJOR VEILGUARD END GAME SPOILERS ~

---

Rook opened his mouth to try and offer some form of an answer. Though, no matter how hard he tried nothing seemed to be coming out, it's as if all the screaming he'd done in the fade had torn his vocal chords to shreds, and now outside of the Fade his body was finally able to reflect that.

Unfortunately, the pain in his throat was only the beginning. Soon Rook felt his limbs begin to weigh heavily and his joints start to grate. His stomach ached & his head began to swim as if his body was finally being crushed by the weight of the exhaustion that had made itself at home in his bones for so long.

Before anyone knew what was happening, Rook collapsed forward onto an astonished Emmrich once again. Unable to stay conscious for much longer, Az mustered up the strength to utter one final, disbelieving phrase.

"You came for me…"

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Tagging under the cut so I don't block the dash too much :P

No pressure tags! : @thedissonantverses , @sunny374940 , @taashyvashedan , @ofcrowsanddragons , @postcardsfromheapside , and anyone else who sees this that wants in!!! <3

[themontess]

Seven Sentence Wednesday

Tagged by @redheadsramblings - love hearing about Rowan! And semi-dedicated to I think it was @heylittleriotact who gave us the image of "all legs Emmrich" going arse over tit:

Emmrich stood with Marilys still on his lap, their legs wrapping around his waist in a way they would have to replicate sometime. He nuzzled against their ear, enjoying the metallic tickle of their pierced dowry against his cheek. “My dear, I do not think this old back can carry you all the way-” “-to the bedroom? Let me lead, then.” Dropping lightly to their feet, the rogue’s touch, they pulled Emmrich forward by the waistcoat chains. An image came to him unbidden, how he might manage to carry them in a bridal style- though that was wrong. A spousal style? Another yank on his vestments, this time one finger crooked through the placket, set him stumbling over his feet like a halla on ice - for just a second before they steadied him.

(Think it might technically be 8 sentences, but lost my way with my own punctuation)

[mercars-musings]

Astaarit {Az} Mercar & Friends: Bonding.

Aka: A list of all my Rook's favourite things about the lighthouse gang & the ways they've all bonded both separately & in groups! {Listed in recruitment order.}

Also tagging anyone who wants to do this - feel free to reblog to add / copy & paste this into your own post to add info on your Rook's relationships! :3

{ A mention would be appreciated though if you do the latter 👉👈 }

Ao3 Link

{MASSIVE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT}

Harding:

Feelings: Az thinks that Harding is one of the coolest people he's ever met & is absolutely in awe of how she's able to take her new abilities in stride {better stride than he would anyway}. He also is extremely inspired by her absolute resolve to help her fellow dwarves recover from the horrors inflicted on them by the Evanuris. Bonding Activity: They spend a lot of time talking about Cheese & Hardings stories of the Inquisition. They also talk about coping with their respective deep seated anger about things, though Harding only really talks about her rage over the Evanuris due to not wanting to upset Rook who as far as she thinks is very clearly not coping with Varric's loss. {If only she knew.} Post Tearstone Island: They start to talk about Varric, ALOT. Not constantly, they still talk about things they used to but their anger conversations quickly turn to also include grief conversations about Varric. They share stories about him, Harding talks about how he was in the Inquisition days, and they make a yearly visit to The Hanged Man with the Inquisitor, Hawke, Isabella and the rest of the Kirkwall Crew. The pair also frequently send letters to eachother with life updates, gossiping about people in their lives, and updates on any enemies they encounter that they think are important to let the other know about.

Neve:

Feelings: Work bestie that slowly turns into real bestie.

He was nervous around her at first, but warmed up to her & calmed down when he realised she didn't judge him for the Nessus job or think him incompetent for it. Thinks she's the best of the Shadow Dragons, wishes he had her intelligence / investigative skills very frequently too. Bonding Activity: Talking about all sorts of things: previous Shadow Dragon jobs, current Shadow Dragon jobs, gossip about their fellow Shadows, they bond a lot as the 2 people from the team that grew up in not only Minrathous but also POOR Minrathous AND as Laetans {Mages born to Non Mage Families.} Post Tearstone Island: They meet weekly for Hals fish and trade stories about their current jobs. He also frequently helps Neve and Rana on some of their cases whenever he has free time and the two of them swap intel with him frequently. They also have double dates {Neve & Lucanis / Az & Emmrich} every few months just to chat shit and sample the First Talons fancy wine selection - though Lucanis doesn't mind since he gets to see his friends & Neves also happy.

Bellara:

Feelings: His little sister in trashy romance, awful smut & in trying to figure out how to talk to cute people.

He really appreciates that their brains seem to work in a lot of the same ways, and really appreciates that they can oscillate between talking a bunch and then just sitting in a comfortable Autistic silence while Bell writes / tinkers & he reads / daydreams. Bonding Activity: They frequently meet up to brainstorm ideas for Bellaras stories, Rook is also Bell's First In Line Beta reader.

They often talk about the trashy romances they're reading, the awful smut they've been obsessed with AND when he finally takes the plunge, Az FREQUENTLY gushes to Bellara about Emmrich. Post Tearstone Island: Bellara makes monthly visits to the Necropolis to meet up with both Rook & Emmrich. In the day: she and Rook will hang out and talk about whatever their most recent literary hyperfixations are! And once Emmrich is done with work the three of them will go get something nice to eat & Rook will nod along and listen to Bell & Emmrich talk about all the intricacies of magic / whatever they're currently both researching. Bellara also sends Az drafts of her work for him to Beta Read. Rook also 1000% helps Bell ask Irelin out again now that she is in a better place emotionally and actually has time for a relationship again. It's very cute, sometimes Bellara and Irelin even join in on the Neve & Lucanis / Rook & Emmrich double dates to make it a triple date on the rare occasion they're all actually free.

Lucanis:

Feelings: Low key jealous of Lucanis' masterful cooking / baking skills. He also thinks Lucanis' abilities to hide more knives on his body than Rook can count is an amazing talent. Does wish Lucanis would actually get some rest sometimes though. He still feels fucking awful about Treviso and whenever he thinks about it, he yet again wracks his mind for a way he could have saved both Minrathous & Treviso. Bonding Activity: Lucanis gives Az cooking / baking lessons every other week {before Treviso fell, and then later once the wound healed between the two men a little}. Rook returns the favour by gifting Lucanis every book on Wyverns that he comes across. They also frequently talk about knives {the best ones they've used / heard of, good concealing methods, etc.} as the only 2 people in the team that use smaller daggers in their fighting styles. {Az is an Orb & Dagger Mage} Post Tearstone Island: They don't get to hang out that much anymore though when they do they often still discuss knives & cooking / baking. Rook is always asking about new recipes Lucanis knows & they'll even occasionally set up a day every few months where Rook will visit the Dellamorte Estate and Lucanis will teach him a new recipe while Rook drops off a new Wyvern book or some item or other to do with Wyverns.

Davrin:

Feelings: Rook see's him as the strongest person in the Veilguard. His bravery inspires Az and his quick thinking when it comes to dealing with the Darkspawn and the blight leave Rook wishing he had half the battle smarts Davrin had. Bonding Activity: Rook would spend hours asking Davrin questions about Darkspawn & the Blight. Originally: he wanted to know what they were up against, but over time he also found a strange interest in the topic in general.

They would also often talk about Griffons and Az would read anything he could find about Griffons {raising, rearing, training, history, etc} outloud to Davrin while Davrin was doing his whittling / carving.

After deciding to hand the Griffons over to Arlathan, they would talk about how excited they both were for not just the Griffons future but also to see what Davrin would do next. Post Tearstone Island: Rook was devastated about Davrin's death, he was so happy to see that his friend had gotten a second chance at life after Weisshaupt and he knew Davrin was so excited to forge a new path for himself and the Griffons.

Rook took some of the pieces that Davrin carved while they talked about Griffons, as a memento of the time they'd spent together. He frequently looks at them, and once a year on the anniversary of Tearstone Island, he will whittle another piece to add to the collection as if keeping Davrins legacy going in some small way.

He feels like he let Davrin down, making him sacrifice himself to make up for Az's failure to keep the team safe. In his darkest moments, Rook wishes he could trade places with his old friend so Davrin could get the future he deserved.

Taash:

Feelings: Little sibling!!! One of his closest friends in the Veilguard - Sees way too much of himself in Taash and it both endears him to them and makes him want to rip his hair out sometimes. Appreciates having another trans person & another Vashoth around, and is really grateful that he could help them figure that stuff out. Thinks they're cool as fuck & does appreciate it when Taash makes the effort to get along with Emmrich more. Bonding Activity: Talking about their family issues & how both their families died before they were able to make things right with them. Also talking about random crap {"What Ifs" particularly seem to be their favourite game together because they both say the wildest shit.} Taash really gets along with Rooks "Purple" side {which is basically his entire side tbh}. Post Tearstone Island: They still talk about their family stuff though it doesn't come up as often over time as they both heal more with each vent & just time in general.

Will have a monthly meet up where they will either go to the Hall of Valour to beat the shit out of some opponents for a bit OR will go do a monster workout at Taash' place. Either way it helps them both get their rage out in a healthier way {since Rook came out of the Fade Prison with A LOT more anger in him}.

They also make sure to go feed the birds on the monthly visit & Taash will tell Rook how things are going with trying to help integrate the Antaam into regular life. They also use this time to yap about their current hyperfixations honestly.

{Naturally, Taash helps Rook get a hold of a Dragons Tooth to propose to Emmrich with when the time comes!!!}

Emmrich:

Feelings: Loves that man more than he's loved anyone else. Truly sees him as his rock, his one and only, his Kadan / Amatus.

He loves the little family they've made together {Him, Emmrich & Manfred}. Really likes living down in the Necropolis, the travel between there and work can be a bit frustrating sometimes but luckily they still have access to the lighthouse eluvians so that definitely cuts down on travel.

He does wish that Emmrich would take some more time off work but that is rich coming from Az tbh. Bonding Activity: When they're not being insufferably gay, they'll trade stories of their respective adventures {Emmrich's dives into the deeper Necropolis & Rooks Shadow Dragon missions / shenanigans.}

They also frequently cuddle and read together, or one of them will read out loud as the other rests their head on the reader's leg. Post Tearstone Island: Many a dinner date, many a family outing in the Necropolis Gardens.

Emmrich will also sometimes pick Rook up from the Shadow Dragons sanctum when he finishes work early and Rook will do the same in return. Rooks favourite though, is still when they cuddle together and read. On special occasions Manfred also joins, sitting on the bed with them once he learns how to read.

In Groups:

Davrin, Lucanis. Az & Assan: Sitting in the dining room and trading stories of fights & missions gone surprisingly well or gloriously awry! With Assan begging for some snacks & pestering them all, knowing that if he can act cute at just the right moment 1 of them will be drunk enough to crumble & sneak him something.

Neve, Harding & Rook: Biweekly gossip sessions about people from the factions they visited or are / were helping that week.

All of them love to be nosy, & the messier the drama is the better it is. They'd never share this info outside of their little gossip circle though.

Taash, Davrin & Rook: Weekly workout sessions between the 3. These sessions also contain a lot of combat talk and conversations where they plan their next big fights out.

Sometimes, they'll even boast about fights they've been in to one another for funsies.

Bellara, Taash & Rook: The three of them really understand one another on how their brains work & honestly sometimes it helps to just randomly bundle into Bellara's room every week or so to just vent about how hard it was to get some tasks done or understand others.

They also often share neurodivergency tips & will usually end the conversation with one of them info dumping on the other 2 about whatever they're currently interested in. {For Taash, this has never failed to be Dragons lmao} Emmrich, Bellara Neve & Rook: All being mages they often like to discuss spells / how their magic manifests / weird magic stuff they've encountered lately / etc.

And although they'd never admit it, this usually does devolve into them chatting just shit about something or other.

Extra Secret Sad Addition:

Varric:

Feelings: Always thought Varric was the funniest person around. Really respected his opinions on things & always went to Varric for advice even before they got to the lighthouse.

Saw Varric as a somewhat father figure {albeit a shorter one than he would have expected}. Bonding Activity: Before the lighthouse, they would often talk about their respective adventures. Rook would also occasionally manage to persuade Varric to let him read an extremely revised draft of his yet to be published pieces. Post Tearstone Island: Rook was devastated, pissed & felt grief like he'd never felt. He had to mourn 2 parents before this but this... this was mourning a truly exceptional friend and father figure that he hadn't even known had been dead for the last several years {For context: I hc that Az experienced years of time in his Fade Prison even though it was only a few weeks in the real world}.

As stated in Harding's section: he & her make a yearly visit to The Hanged Man with the Inquisitor, Hawke, Isabella and the rest of the Kirkwall Crew to talk about and remember their friend.

He & Emmrich were also able to pull some strings and erect a grave in the Necropolis for Varric {not with his body, he got put to rest in the way he wanted to before this point obvs. But this is more symbolic and gives Az a way to visit often.}