#short qunaris

[therookandthecrow]

I'm going to exploit the height sliders in Veilguard to it's fullest extents: tall elves and short Qunaris, here I come.

[emmavakarian-theirin]

ah yes i do love these bad ideas

[artxssa]

I´m in Dragon Age hell again, help-

[cherchezlafatfemme]

In my daydreams, this is where you lean over me and slap the wall

[jenn0wow]

Absolutely obsessed that I created the situation where 5’3 Lucanis tried to corner against a wall and rizz up a 6’4 Rook like that’s so hilarious love that

[qunari-bunny]

pov: you (Qunari rook) took your pocket-sized boyfriend out for some enrichment💜

[theunsinkablesappho]

Okay but let's talk about this

Where exactly did Taash fucking come from? Like, genetically.

The Qun chooses reproductive partners in order to, ideally, create offspring suited to specific tasks. So Shathann would have almost certainly been paired off to another scholar. Meaning Taash's "father" was built like Emmrich.

Shathann (and the Qun) are expecting a nice lil nerd baby... and instead she gets a 7' tall fire-breathing thembo with a temper.

What in the recessive genetics is going on here?

[assblastergaster]

it’s actually crazy now that i’m thinking about it. with absolutely no side quests the story of veilguard is like 20 hrs long at most. that is SO SHORT. insane insane insane. we should all be on our knees thankful that they got any amount of good character writing in there at all. we really got dragon age 2 2

[city-of-heavenly-heartbreaks]

He likes to be tall.

Peep Harding in the background wondering if this is how Antivan Crows flirt 👀

[vangbelsing]

The Sweetest Cure

I regret to inform you that I have, in fact, been at it again. Just a teeny little something for more Lucanis and a qunari healer mage Rook. It has my brain in a chokehold 😭

Pairing: Lucanis X Qunari!Rook

Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, (Nonbinary) Rook

Content: Slight NSFW, not explicit but very suggestive, angst, hurt and comfort, mention of slight disfigurement, Rook is a former saarebas

His fingers traced the thin scars that seemed to lead like pathways across their body. From the base near their under arm, he dragged the very tips of his dexterous digits to follow along the trail left there, which lead down to the very edge of their hip. He felt the shiver that ripped through their body; heard the small hitch of their breath as his hands met each curve and bump along their ribs and hips.

He could not suppress the small quirk of his lips in response to this, leaning forward to plant a kiss on their bared shoulder, drinking in the scent of their skin. He noted the hint of soft floral notes in their fragrance.

His name fell from their lips in a heady sigh, the sound teetering on the edge of desperation. For him. He chuckled at that, planting another peck to their shoulder before moving his hands back upwards to rest on their ribs just under their humble breasts.

How many bodies had he held in his hands? How many times did he apply his knowledge of the body to bring about anothers end? To bring pain - or the threat of it - in order to coax information from another? He could hurt, maim and kill in so many fashions. Truly, it was for him like stacking papers was for others: just another thing you do. And he could do it well. None were so versed in mapping out the body and the most efficient ways to end them.

But not here. Here, his hands felt less practiced. Not unknown, but unfamiliar. Here, when he felt the soft pump of blood in their veins beneath that pale, nearly ivory skin, his thoughts weren't drawn to ceasing its flow, but how to quicken it. When he would move a hand to feel the thrum of their heart against its cage, he found himself thinking not how to stop it, merely that he wanted to feel it there, pumping madly in response to his every movement and caress.

He was out of his element here, touching softly, letting his hands linger there on parts left so sweetly for his gaze only. Perhaps another who knew more of living than of killing could do this better? Yet, even as he questioned, he could feel so potently the way their skin burned under his touch, hear the sound of their heart and breathing racing each time he pressed against a particularly sensitive place. It was not his specialty, true, but he wanted more. He needed to drink in this sensation, and they would let him do so gladly.

They turned then to face him, his eyes level with their chest before he tilted his head to catch their gaze. There was frenzy in that stare, their lids hooded and dark orbs glossy and wet. But there was more than lust. Somewhere, not so far beneath the surface, was a tenderness so unfamiliar to him. And how it was not hidden from him, the way they invited him to see that depth of them freely and openly, mystified him. The feeling of his lips left separate from theirs was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

His eyes moved slightly down to their mouth - to where he most wanted to feel - only to stop suddenly, the threat of displeasure tugging at the corners of his lips. Not displeasure at them, no, but at what he recognized there. It filled his chest with a glacial shard of discomfort each time he thought of it.

Their mouth was littered with scars; the ghosts of holes and stitches, marks where they been sealed shut for years beyond what he cared to count. Their punishment for being born a mage. How much suffering were they forced to endure for the crime of simply being how they were? Yet, such abject cruelty had left them no less caring. No less gentle. When one could have come away from such a life bitter or hateful, they had chosen to do what had been the sole purpose for their misfortune: to simply be as they were.

To mend pain. To heal. To act as a balm to bodies and hearts that had been left ailing. To use the magic that had been spoken of like a curse the whole of their life to do just what they had been told was anathema to its very existence: to do good. Perhaps, he thought, that this was the essence of their nature? Not the magic or their suffering from those who had cursed it, but the gentleness. The good.

As if to call him back from his mind, he felt their fingers rest at the edge of his jaw, tilting his head back up to meet their gaze. They smiled sweetly before placing a kiss at his brow, the feeling of their lips against him delicate and careful, as if they had been afraid of shattering the most fragile of porcelain. Perhaps they felt as he did when they looked at him? Had he not been through too much? His life had never been so idyllic, after all.

Lacing their fingers together, he watched their hands intertwine with pure reverence. If, out in the world there was a ceaseless haze of misery and injustice, then for now, he would stay in here. For now, they could find safety in each other. He could try to show them the deeper parts of his being; to give them a minute, an hour, a day to feel that salve of skin warming skin. To be blanketed in utter gratitude for the mere act of offering your person so freely, like feeling your kindness could touch more than just a heart.

As if he, too, could heal. If only just for an evening.

[asexuallucanisdellamorte]

judging by the way lucanis stands in the first romance scene it looks like it was designed with a taller rook in mind you've gotta be taller than him to ride that ride

[thecsquirrel]

Happy Black History Month from all my Rooks!

Bonus with my Warden bros!

Obligatory shot with Neve:

[labyrinthofthestar]

da*2. is a game

[pierkyn]

ma'am...

[the-ebonarm]

puts him in my pocket

[vvitchering]

There were a ton of things that could have been better in Veilguard but somewhere in my list of “small details that would have pushed it to the next level” is having a Rook with a larger build be able to lift/carry their LI. Veilguard doesn’t have a ton of romance content but I think being able to scoop a companion up off the ground after they take a hit in battle or during/after some of the intense cutscenes would have been Nice.