#rook castle

[br0ps]

[psin314]

kicking my feet.. in the were wyvern crow spite au.. does he allways look that way or is it a spite influence thing.. how does it play out with the rest of the dellamortes and veilguard seeing that ?

still wip but i have something.

it was interesting to think how the quest (bloodbath) would work here. illario was caught off guard and didn't expect lucanis to turn into... this. so rook had to do something and quickly, because Illario didn't fight back well and his head was about to be chewed off. so rook stabbed the wyvern in the thigh and provoked it to attack him instead. he didn't run far - spite pinned him to a column and now wanted to bite his face off. rook tried to get through to spite and he almost succeeded, but illario came to his senses and stopped spite with his blood magic stuff. he said the same thing and left. fucker.

transformation scheme!! when spite is angry and wants to talk to rook, but lucanis has the strength to resist, he shifts into a humanoid crow-wyvern-like creature. they share the body and sometimes spite can do and say things, but basically everything is under lucanis' control. if luсanis has no strength to resist - a wyvern. if spite calms down, then feathers and everything else slowly disappears within half an hour or two. and when spite gets furious and lucanis can't resist it, he instantly turns into a full wyvern. the transformation is uhh unpleasant, with crunching bones and groans of pain, i won’t draw that. although... who knows. 🗿🗿🗿🗿🚬🚬 wyvern spite won't just turn back into lucanis. he either has to get bored (which is unlikely) and lucanis turns back into his usual self, or rook has to convince spite or bribe him with coffee beans - then it's quite possible.

i haven’t thought about other people’s reactions yet. but I don't think it will be positive. 💀💀💀✋ but rook genuinely wants to help lucanis and won't give up on him. cus he likesss himmmm

+more visible size as a bonus

[michaelnordeman]

Rook/råka. Borgholm Castle grounds on Öland, Sweden (October 2, 2024).

[charliemwrites]

Part 11!!

Sorry this took so long (and that it’s a bit short) I have trouble with scene switching sometimes, and it makes me cut up the story into pieces.

No Content Warnings For This Chapter

Somewhere between your pride and the numbing passage of time lies the way you really feel about the 141. It's undeniable that you're still deeply hurt by what transpired; a chronic ache like a mended bone, only noticeable in the cold, or when you sleep on it wrong. For them, it was easy to reach inside your chest to extract your heart, sternum soft and malleable. It was harder with SpecGru, the bone grew back harder, thicker. You had to crack your ribs open and scraped the chambers on bone shards, but at least they stopped the bleeding.

You don’t miss the 141, not really. It wasn’t just those final, brutal days spent lying alone in a hospital bed that filled those transfer papers. The culprit had been the time that isolation had afforded, to think more deeply, to analyze your position through a less-optimistic lense. Those last conversations had just been your signature on the line.

You don’t blame the gun for firing, you blame whoever pulled the trigger.

Bitterness seeps onto your tongue sometimes. Masochistically, you let it linger. It has no purpose but to raise your hackles and press on that knitted spot until it bruises. It’s your pride, that’s all, lamenting the blood you chose to spill in sacrifice only to have it wasted.

The present is a much sweeter wash for the taste of the past, sticking to your lips and curling your tongue. Honey-balm for resentment, syrup cutting through salt. You focus on the flavor as you stride into the briefing room.

Your captain is already there, a sly smirk for the flush to your faces as Nova follows you in. He’s speaking to Laswell, arms crossed but shoulders relaxed.

Nikto is leaned up against the wall, a shadow without anyone to cast it. He comes to you and Nova as you take seats, angled to face the only exit. He knee presses to yours as you settle in, eyes flicking around.

Nostalgia is a complicated tide rising and ebbing around your ankles. Memories of your time with the 141 in this very room, planning and strategizing, learning where to support your teammates and where they would support you. Jokes made with Soap and Gaz, loaded glances between you and Ghost, a reassuring nod or shoulder squeeze from Price.

That, you think, is where the ache is. Not in missing those moments; you have them with SpecGru now, and without that lingering sense that you don’t quite belong. But in those rose-tinted relationships you’ll never get back (and know you don’t really want again.)

It was never as good as it is with your team now; they were still the team you thought you belonged with. You’ve learned better since but that doesn’t appease the naive 141 operative that put everything into those four.

Your captain has taken the seat you used to have, and he belongs there, a buffer between his team and theirs. You press your thumb to one of the bruises he left on your thigh and settle in.

“Sunshine,” Keegan greets, brushing his knuckles over Nova’s cheek. “Sweets.”

You tilt your chin welcomingly as he nuzzles his nose against your temple, fabric of his mask itching along your jaw.

“Smell good,” he rumbles, low. Just for you and Nova.

“That’s what happens when you shower,” you answer, playing dismissive.

“You should try it sometime,” Nova adds, smirking.

“Only if you join me,” Keegan coos, drawing a spare chair up close. For as tough and distant as he is towards others, he’s long opened his ribs for you and the rest of SpecGru to crawl inside. You admire it now for as much as you distrusted it then.

“Too late,” you say, sharing a look with Nova, “already helped her wash up for the day.”

She whacks you in the knee, startling a laugh out of you. Keegan scoffs, throwing an arm across the back of your chair.

“Nothin’ says we can’t take another,” he drawls, “if I get you dirty enough.”

Beside you, Nikto snorts. Keegan shoots him a teasing look, arching his eyebrows invitingly. The captain is watching, as always, pride and affection smoldering in coal-dark eyes.

And you’re right where you’re meant to be. With them, always with them.

At the front of the room, Laswell politely clears her throat. All eyes turn to her - though you only just notice that the 141 has filed in, perched on the other end of the briefing table, a collective storm cloud.

Laswell kicks off the meeting with a recap of the ongoing mission - basics that all of you read in the docket before shipping out. It’s a big operation, delicate due to hostages. The 141 needed manpower with comparable skills; enter SpecGru.

“One of our best specialists has patched in to explain the parameters in greater detail.”

The big screen at the front of the room lights up. A familiar puff of curly blond hair and green eyes blink into view.

“Gooooood mornin’! Or is it evening? Either way, I hope it’s good.”

Your captain lets out a long breath, trying (and mostly failing) to hide his amusement.

“This is Duke,” Laswell says for the 141’s benefit. “She’s one of our best technicians. I put her on this assignment when I reached out to SoecGru.”

“And you should be glad she did!” Duke chimes in. Her tongue flashes blue as she speaks, and it’s not just the light of the computers surrounding her. Her love of raspberry candies is practically a calling card. “They’re actually pretty decent at keeping communications to a minimum, but porn bots always get ‘em.”

The captain sighs, running a hand down his face. Nova pats his arm sympathetically. Poor guy.

“Anyway! I have their plans for the hostages all drawn up - check this out.”

One loud click of her mouse and the screen flicks to a map with colored circles and wiggly lines. Locations and routes, with little time stamps above each.

“They plan on taking the hostages in waves. If one transport goes down going in or out, they can cut their losses. Lucky for us, they’re super dumb, so I’ve found a 12 minute window where all their teams are out in the open.”

Another image, the transport routes now sporting little icons of angry faces with their tongues sticking out. They're all at various distances along their colored paths, but none of them have made it to whatever the destination is.

“If they’re hit all at once, no group will have time to warn the others,” Duke explains. “Hostages safe, bad guys caught, we all go home and pet our dogs.”

She babbles through the rest of the plan in that controlled chaos way she has, concise and insightful around a casual tone more fitting a high school presentation. The building where the hostages will be taken, every route, down to the vehicles and guns the terrorists will have.

Eventually, she runs out of pertinent information, there are no questions because she’s covered just about everything short of the humidity. Her face pops up on screen again, eyes always a bit glassy from staring at screens too long without blinking. “Lastly, don’t get shot, or I’m telling ma.”

Your captain huffs, that grin finally cracking across his solemn face.

“Do that ‘n I’ll tell her you drop f-bombs like it’s your job,” he replies.

Her mouth drops open in outrage. “It is my job!”

“Yeah? How about that stipend, huh? How much’a that ‘s going to your candy habit?”

Duke’s face flushes, but she’s got that wide smile beamed up to eleven. “Your girlfriend likes me better,” she sing-songs.

He snorts. “Which one?”

“Both,” you and Nova answer at the same time.

Her eyes narrow smugly before she signs off with a little finger wave and a “toodaloo!”

“Your sister, I take it?” Price drawls in the characteristic silence of Duke’s absence.

Your captain shoots him a sideways look. “What, you can’t see the resemblance?” he replies, dry as desert.

You cough into your arm to hide your giggles but Nova isn’t nearly as polite.

As you’re filing out with the rest of the team, you’re surprised that there aren’t calls from your former team. No overtures to justify themselves or half-assed apologies that still somehow make it sound like everything was your fault. You’re almost tempted to check over your shoulder, but you won’t give them the satisfaction of seeming interested. You just don’t trust the sudden silence, even if the captain alluded that there’s some sort of ceasefire in place. You’ve never known the 141 to bend knee to anyone but their own.

A glance at your captain and he’s noticed it too, satisfaction flicking across his face before he catches your eye. He jerks his head. You follow him back to his room, leaning your shoulder in the doorway as he loosens his belt.

“Talked to Price,” he begins.

You arch your brows. “And?”

He blows out a sigh, hands on his hips. “And he wants to talk to you. Him and the rest of the team.”

You groan. “About what?”

He shrugs. “Hell if I know, it wasn’t exactly circle time, doll.”

You roll your eyes. Those useless, cryptic…

“Hey.”

You blink, face going hot when you see the stern look on your captain’s face. Whoops.

“Sorry, sir,” you say. “That wasn’t meant to be at you, I’m just so fucking… ugh.”

“Look, I got ‘em off your back during working hours, but anytime after is outta my hands.”

You puff up, annoyed all over again with the whole situation. It couldn’t be enough for them to ostracize you back then, or try to distract you on-duty now, derailing drills. No, they want your free time too.

“I’m not gonna tell you how to handle this, alright? But maybe getting some of this shit off your chest will do you some good. Let ‘em blow smoke, say whatever you gotta say, and put all this to rest.”

You deflate, giving him a weary scowl that does nothing to deter him from closing the distance. (Not that you wanted it to.)

“Isn’t that telling me what to do?” you mumble, letting your forehead thunk against his broad chest.

“Nah, if I was tellin’ you what to do, you’d be doin’ it,” he chuckles. “If you don’t want nothin’ to do with ‘em, you can spend every night in here for all I care. Up to you.”

You’re only putting up resistance because you know he’s right, it’s just not what you want. It’s easier and simpler to be pissed off and short-tempered with the 141. Safer, in a way.

But there’s no getting any safer, in any sense of the word. Worst thing any of them can say is something you already know, or something that isn’t true. You’ve got your own team for support regardless.

“I hate when you’re right,” you grump.

He smooths a hand through your hair. “If that were true, you’d hate me all the time.”

You nip him in retaliation; he tugs a lock of hair for the trouble.

This is home, you think. Your captain. Nova, Nikto, Keegan. Doesn’t matter where in the world you are, they’re your present and your future. Knowing that, the pain and uncertainty of the past are just ghosts. It’s time to put them to rest like one.

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Masterlist

[incorrectquotesfromthelighthouse]

Evka: That's a bad idea, Rook. Grey Warden!Rook: It's a terrible idea, but I have faith in myself.

[rook-knavery]

I watched Howl’s Moving Castle and it’s got me wanting an Emmrook fic.

Emmrich and Rook meeting, and Emmrich already knowing who they are because — unbeknownst to Rook — there is an event that sends Rook back in time to meet a younger Emmrich?

Emmrich being head over heels in love with Rook before Rook even actually knows he exists.

Seeing Rook come into the Necropolis with Bellara the first time and he has to act as if it’s their first time meeting when in all reality he has been waiting years for them to come back into his life.

And just as Rook is starting to think that maybe this Necromancer isn’t so bad, they get sent back in time due to misc. magic shenanigans and meet young Emmrich and— and all of the love and the pining and the yearning okay.

[wardensantoineandevka]

I will admit I'm a little salty that people, in an effort to prove that there is no good dialogue in Veilguard at all, keep comparing mission exposition to the high point narrative set pieces of prior games. I agree that some of the writing related to plot mechanics and mission exposition in Veilguard is a little too utilitarian, but that doesn't mean none of the dialogue is good or that prior games didn't also sometimes have this issue here and there.

I also generally dislike when people put the bar for good writing — and all writing too, not even just dialogue writing, ALL writing — at mic-drop sentences that still sound good completely divorced from context, because that really just reduces "good writing" down to like fake-deep philosophizing or witty quips exclusively. sometimes, a really good bit of dialogue sounds like a completely normal sentence out of context.

[rookinthecrownest]

This but Rookanis do we see the vision

[mrs-gauche]

I hope the Lighthouse is full of weird looking magical things/artifacts/tools, that are just so old that simply no one knows what they were even made for, a bit like Howl's Moving Castle? Like, imagine there's a running gag or something where Rook and the rest come across a thing and everyone's like "Oh, better not touch that, we don't know what it does" and then they make a really big deal of how no one's allowed to ever touch. that. thing.

And then later on Rook has another Fade Call with Solas and they have this very serious conversation, when Rook just casually interjects "Oh yeah btw, what is that thing?" and Solas just sighs and waves it off in passing, super annoyed "Ugh, that's just an ancient elven bottle opener. Are you even listening to what I'm saying—"

[mrsrookhunt]

So you're telling me Rook has 5 siblings. And that there's 6 pieces in Chess? But that we don't have their names?

Bestie. I think we do.

[syds-silly-art-corner]

ROOK guys i lvoe him <3 rook in howls outfit because he so would and a poorly cropped canvas because i never know what im doing :3

[yj-98]

⸺ KINGMAKER ♜

[feaches]

Then one day his heart was stolen by a demon He never returned to complete his apprenticeship And from that day forward He has been using his magic for entirely selfish reasons That boy is extremely dangerous His powers are far too great for someone without a heart

[chibigingi]

Studio Ghibli x Dragon Age Veilguard "Emmrich's Moving Castle"

Date of completion: 4/8/2025 Deviantart Link: https://www.deviantart.com/chibigingi/art/1180798273

No timelapse because YouTube is poopy and I refuse to change the music because how can you post Howl's Moving Castle without using Merry-Go-Round of Life or Promise of the World? Lame.

Anyways, this is just me jumping onto Studio Ghibli redraws that was going on Twitter for a bit. Couldn't pass up the chance to redraw one of my favorite scenes from my favorite Ghibli film with my favorite Dragon Age couple… (Rook is usually fearless, but something about a dwarf being lifted into the air and so far away from the safety of the ground has her a little shooketh).

[diana-bluewolf]

For King & Country!

[loustica-lucia]

DATV x Ghibli — Alba de Riva dressed as Howl Pendragon ✨

I knew this outfit would fit them but aaaaa I had way too much fun actually bringing that idea to life!🥹

Drama King energy with stars and suns aesthetics and a red/green/black/white/golden palette hehehe ♪