Hello! I hope you’re having a good morning/noon/night
I wanted to ask if you also think about Emmrich finding out rook got something tattooed on them that makes them think of Emmrich. Like a skull with shroud’s kisses or a quote from his favorite book with lilacs around it, or something similar. Imagine if they tattooed their wedding vows.
Because I personally think he wouldn’t be normal about it, he’s gonna end up crying from the fact rook is so devoted to him that they got a reminder permanently etched into their skin and also indescribably horny over it
HI GEM!!!! If I wasn't thinking about it before, I am certainly thinking about it now 👁👁
Emmrich would be the opposite of normal, he'll be absolutely gobsmacked. His flabber is gasted. Whatever day he was having, it's immediately a 100x better already 🥰🥰🥰
Emmrich's hands over Rook's clothes, Rook practically vibrating from excitement, trying not to spoil the surprise. He's amused until he's not, until he's taking off their clothes and he sees it, clear as day.
He's an emotional man, always has been, easily moved to tears, but in this, his heart almost seizes. It could be anything — skull with shroud's kiss, lilacs, a quote, their wedding vows (the last one will be the fastest to get him to weeping, though) but he's reverently tracing it.
First with his fingers, over the ink and the lines. He doesn't say anything, his throat closed up. If he tried the only thing that would come out would be a breathless, wet sigh that would probably be a little concerning if not for the amount of affection in his eyes.
Then he's pressing his lips to it, like a benediction, a blessing — how could he have gotten so lucky with someone like Rook? With someone that wanted not only a life with him, but to have it etched into their skin forever?
Now Lee you know I must hear about emmrook lactation kink 🔫
Ask me about my WIPs!
OKAY we all know Emmrich has a breeding kink the size of a hundred moons. His sperm is jacked and ready to go, been ready since he was like 20 tbh. SO the next logical conclusion is Rook (I'm using my Thana here) getting knocked up with the next generation of little Volkarins <3
She's big and round, her tits get fucking huge and she's like 38 weeks along and she's leaking everywhere. Emmrich has to help his poor dear wife 😩 with his mouth. and his hands. Relieve some of that fullness, you know? Everyone is happy. Rook gets some help, Emmrich gets his belly full with a different kind of sweetness. He comes right there sucking her tits dry 😌😌😌
Heya, nonny 🥰 thank you for asking! This is a gift fic for one of my favorite people, my beloved @caughtnyact and her Kayla Mercar.
It's got blood drinking, bloodplay, and Emmrich having a crisis between Rook's thighs (when does he not?) as he's eating her out while she's on her period 😤
A short snippet for you! 🧛♂️
Blood and hunger.
That had been all Emmrich had known in his long, long life. A fierce insatiable craving, the pulsing of the artery as he sunk his teeth into flesh. The warmth cascading down his throat into a bottomless pit, relief temporary, solace fleeting.
Then her — honeyed hair and olivine eyes, an arrival like the dawn he had almost forgotten. For once, a comfort that stayed. Lips to her skin, little urge to tear into it, only to mouth at her pulse and taste her sweat as she hummed and gasped and groaned under him.
Emmrich could smell it, hear it — the rushing in her veins and the pumping of her heart, slowing breaths he did not need to match it. He hadn’t hid his nature from her and she bared her neck for him. Blue veins pulsing, his stomach growling. The back of his teeth itched, throat closing up as he looked away. The hunger never left — it lessened at the sight of her but now leapt at the chance.
He should push her away. He should beg her never to offer this again, body a slaughterhouse to be split open like pomegranates.
“Aren't you hungry?” Let me help you, let me do this for you, remained unspoken.
Her blood, his Rook. Her heart, his Kayla. The bright tang of life, all clever tongue and easy smiles. Emmrich hoarded it, hunger transforming into something far more intangible behind his ribs.
For the WIP ask game please can I have more Hezemmrook sugar 🥰
Ask me about my WIPs!
YES, YOU CAN. I was totally not waiting for someone to ask about the sugar baby fic, no ma'am. Definitely not 😌 I've yapped about this fic before, and it's been chugging along. It is like 90% smut, no plot to be found, and hopefully that doesn't disappoint people 🤣
For the uninitiated: this is the Emmrich/Rook/Johanna sugar baby modern AU fic that I've been tinkering away at for last few weeks. My sole goal is to get Rook sandwiched between these two lmao. The plan is three sections of three POVs (Johanna, then Emmrich, then finally Rook). I just finished Johanna's part (subject to edits) and I've gotten started on Emmrich's!
Here, have a snippet! Two snippets because I just love you, Red 🥰
#1 Johanna (some context to that last line thing I shared a few days ago)
Without having to be told, Rook also lifted her top — a disgustingly lovely cashmere sweater, Johanna was sure Volkarin had a matching one somewhere — and threw it onto the desk as she toed off her shoes and socks. She stood naked in front of Johanna, the flush of her cheeks spreading quickly down her neck and across her chest like some blushing virgin — as if they had never done this before and the slick between the little hussy's thighs wasn't proof enough of how badly she wanted this.
Johanna wasn't blind — their pet was a pretty one, all plush thighs and generous chest, freckles and moles dotting her skin. Like stars, Volkarin sighed dreamily once, and it took everything in Johanna not to mock him then and there, their girl worn out between them as he made constellations on her skin. A sentimental fool. Johanna had looked away then, pulling on a robe and stepping onto the balcony for a smoke. But through the open door, she could still hear it — Volkarin's soft murmurs and Rook's answering sighs, halfway to the Fade as he cleaned her up and kissed every bruise Johanna made.
Something uncomfortable settled in Johanna's chest that night, weighty and unwieldy. She didn't care to give it a name — but she looked at Rook now and that feeling returned to the forefront unbidden, unacknowledged. She only scowled and pushed it away, placed it under heavy guard, the key thrown out. It laid next to every other insipid drivel Volkarin pushed onto her. Johanna certainly wasn’t heartless, but he and Rook had enough of heart on their sleeves for all of them. Where would they be if she were anything like that?
So instead, she bared her teeth and narrowed her eyes at the girl in front of her.
“Get on the bed.”
#2 Emmrich (just the very start of his POV, that's still definitely not done yet lmao)
Emmrich's phone buzzed once, just as he closed the front door. Dropping his car keys into the little wooden bowl with one hand, he fished his phone out with the other.
A text.
You're welcome.
J
He felt his eye twitch. Knowing Johanna, that could mean absolutely anything. He looked up, squinting his eyes across the living room, half cautious, half intrigued. It was quiet, nothing out of place — except for one thing.
“Darling?” he called out.
No answer.
Rook, as far as he knew, was home today, and he had expected her to bound up to him, loop her arms around his shoulders, and plant kisses on his face as she normally did.
Perhaps she'd gone out for a quick errand?
Instead of Rook, Manfred came to greet him, hissing affectionately and twining around Emmrich's legs, rubbing his neck onto the fabric of Emmrich's trousers.
“Hello, dear Manfred.” He scratched beneath Manfred's chin, soft bone-white fur beneath his fingers, the cat purring in response. “Have you happened to see Rook anywhere?” Manfred cocked his head and hissed, an odd little trait he had when Emmrich adopted him, as if he had never learnt how to meow. “No? Oh, well.”
too many good choices for the WIP ask meme 😭I want to know about ye old texting and domestic... but since I gotta choose one: say more about the omegaverse? 👀
Ask me about my WIPs!
Well, obviously, now I gotta talk about all three! 🤣
Emmrook ye olde sexting
I got like three different prompts about leaving notes for your lover to find, and I'm currently attempting to do the Summer Spice smut challenge, and there was a prompt there for dirty talk. Smooshing that together gets us: ye olde sexting via love notes 🤣
It starts off sweet. Short and simple like Rook leaving a small "Hope you have a good day at work!" note in Emmrich's bag. Or "I love you" notes hidden in his drawer. Then it continues to escalate until it's dirty notes at the least expected time that he has to hide them from his colleagues and students OR ELSE. He wears a blush the entire day after he finds them.
It's going to be epistolary style, so I'm going to be actually writing the notes so that's going to be fun.
Emmrook domestic
This is a gift for one of my closest fandom friends <3. I'll be using her Rook here. It's also one of the ones I'm integrating with the Summer Spice smut challenge. The plan is sweet and hot — a slow morning, cooking breakfast that turns hot and heavy. Over the table, standing doggy, robes/pajamas still on, just pushed aside 😌
Emmrook omegaverse
ohoho, this one has been in my WIP folder for SO LONG. There's not much about it besides what's on the tin: it's Emmrook omegaverse smut. I don't have like a big in-universe reason for it. I just wanted Emmrich to knot Rook with his dick until they're both crying 🤣
Have a snippet under the cut 😏
“Darling,” he managed to choke out, “You're in heat.”
The words knocked the air out of her. Heat?
She hadn't been in heat since she was a teenager, not since she first presented and started taking her suppressants. The suppressants that were in her pack—
Her eyes widened. No, no, no, no, no — a terrifying realization hit her. She had not taken her suppressants in weeks. She had run out of them, was planning to buy some but never got around to it between each new disaster after the other.
Oh, she was going to be sick.
“Rook, darling, breathe for me.” Emmrich's voice rang through her room, and his scent was in her head, curling around her like ribbons. “I'll help you. But I need you to stay here, can you do that, darling?”
She whimpered head in her arms on the back of her green couch.
“I know it hurts, darling, but only for a little bit. I just need to run to the Necropolis to get something for you and you'll be right as rain.” He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself but seemed to immediately regret it, breathing in a full nose of her scent. He stepped away, back practically against her door, his fingers twitching at his side.
He was leaving her, and her face scrunched, her scent turning sour as tears pricked her eyes. Why was he abandoning her now? “Emmrich…”
“I'll try to be swift, and I'll let the others know not to disturb you.” He turned around fingers gripping the doorknob as he took shallow breaths. “Everything will be alright, my love.”
***
Everything was not alright. Rook burned from inside out, the pounding in her cunt turning worse and worse.
She tried to be good, she really did — stayed in her room, staring at the fishes as the fever rolled through her, and sweat dampened the couch. But it quickly turned unbearable, mind foggy and muscles aching, misery lacing through her skin. She didn't want to be here — she didn't want to be alone. In the most primal part of her psyche, she knew how to make this better, but Emmrich had deemed it necessary to abandon her.
Emmrich. Her mind latched onto him.
Rook knew exactly what she needed. She wasn't entirely sure how she managed to get her clothes back on — wrong and hot and painful — or how she stumbled into his laboratory without alerting half the Fade.
But she did. She climbed the stairs, pulling at the laces of her shirt again and the band of her pants, taking them off and leaving them behind as she was wrapped in his scent. It felt good against her feverish skin, and she nearly started rubbing herself all over his books and his desk. She doubted he would appreciate that, and she was striving to be a good, good girl.
Finally, she found it, through the haze and brain fog, the little mechanism that unlocked the bookcase hiding his bedroom — and she let herself in.
For the Wip ask
Please talk about the Emmrich 5+1 crying, inquiring minds need to know :)
Ask me about my WIPs!
Answering with @the-font-bandit's ask <3
Emmrich crying a lot is basically fanon-thats-pretty-much-canon to me 🤣so this is an extension of that (and also I wanted to try out the 5+1 fic style). The five times Emmrich Volkarin cries and the one time Rook (my Thana) does.
It's an exploration of the different times Emmrich cries throughout their relationship (lots smut, because well. I like smut. But also lots of non-smut thrown in). It's one of the really early stage WIPs so I mostly just have a list of scenarios that I need to trim down to the 6 I think would make most sense.
Under the cut for length lmao
First time they kiss and he jacks off that same night to just the thought of her lips, all weepy and guilty
The first time he comes inside her, cock buried to the hilt and his face buried in her neck and he lets out the wettest exhale. He tries to pretend it's the sweat not the tears making her neck wet
Related: when they properly try for a baby? rook stops taking those contraceptive tea or whatever and shows him. Pops a boner right there and they get to it. Crying from gratefulness
When they finally defeat the evanuris, solavellan has walked off into the fade, and Rook just crashes on her knees from relief that it's over.
The day Rook proposes to him. She takes him to the memorial gardens, they're talking about flowers, and he turns around to pick a flower for her. When he turns back, she's on her knees, with a pretty ring in her hand, asking him to marry her. He's weeping before he could choke out the yes
The wedding??? or wedding shopping??
He comes home one day and rook's just. on the couch. reading or something. and it finally really dawns on him that she's with him and at home and theyre both happy, and he has everything he could want. She notices he's home and turns around to smile at him and he's tearing up right at the front door
Drunk emmrich stumbling home after some idk department party or something
Drunk Rook stumbling into his room at the lighthouse, had too much wine at dinner and climbing all over him and is just so happy that they're together. He's choking back tears at how sincere she is even when she starts drooling on his shirt because she's passed out
Baby birth? or baby shower?
Baby's first word :) or first laugh? or first smile? or first steps? literally anything related to baby nellie
that's all I scenarios I apparently wrote down in my notes lol but knowing me, there'll be more before I start working on this properly. And as you can see I still haven't even started on what would make my Rook cry without Emmrich also crying. But we'll see!
Happy birthday Lee!! <3 Hope you had/ have an awesome day!
I think Emmrich sleeps with about 17 pillows, but has at least 10 more decorative pillows to put on his bed that are not made to be slept on.
I don't know why, he just seems like a decorative pillows guy.
Thank youuuu 💖💖💖💖💖 I had a lovely day!!!!
And y e a h!!!! This is the guy who brings a canopy, shaving kit, 138483927 books, and who knows what else into the woods with Harding, he's definitely someone who isnt afraid to indulge in a few comforts for sure!!!! I bet his home in the Necropolis is immaculately decorated, throw pillows and all!!! Headcanon 10000% accepted
For the WIP asks, please tell me about Fit for Rook? 👀
Ask me about my WIPs!
oh man, this was my WIP for Rook Appreciation Week but that has uh, come and gone and it's still a WIP lmao
The idea was that we see Rook give gifts to each of the companions. This time, our companions reciprocate! Hence the name — "Fit for Rook" to match the in-game quest names for the gifts lmao
I only have like... 3 of the 7 companions written (Harding, Lucanis, and Bellara, though I don't think I fully finished Bel's or Harding's section) lmao. So here, have uh, all of that lmao. Approximately 1k words for these three. Might as well put it out there. I'm a little self-conscious of this one but oh well
Harding
It started with a plant — small variegated leaves of green, purple, and silver. Soft to the touch when Rook trailed her fingers down the vine, tiny boat-like flowers nestled between.
Stem to leaf to flower. It reminded her of home.
Emerald fire against the familiar shadowed halls of the Necropolis. The purple robes of teachers and classmates in every corner. The glint of the grave dowry she had to leave behind. Did Myrna and Vorgoth still have it, she wondered.
“What’s this about, Harding?” Rook swallowed the wave of homesickness that threatened to spill.
“I thought your room could use some brightening up! Can’t have you staring at fish all day, Rook.” Harding’s hand was on her hip as she laughed, easy and bright, before she turned her attention to the plant on the table. “It doesn’t need much attention, don’t worry. Just remember to water it every couple of days.”
“Ah. I’m sure the fish won’t mind sharing.” The quip was out of her mouth before thinking and Harding snorted at that.
“If the leaves start turning yellow, that means you’re over-watering,” the dwarf continued, “And if it’s getting a little spindly, you could take it out to the balcony for a bit. Give it some sunlight.”
Rook hummed in reply, fingers still stroking the leaves. She spent a bit of time in the Memorial Gardens as part of her Mourn Watcher duties. Those rose bushes weren’t caring for themselves, after all. But that was always a shared responsibility with the other junior Watchers.
This little thing, though? It was all hers — a scary prospect, on top of the whole saving the world thing.
“Softer than it looks, huh? Just like someone I know.” Harding knocked her shoulder with Rook’s before she hopped off the couch. “You can always let me know if you need some help.”
***
Lucanis
The Demon of Vyrantium was not what Rook expected.
A dark and broody master assassin? Yeah, sure, that checked out. Grocery shopping, though? That was always going to be a bit odd, she thought.
Their haul was underneath the table — bags of onions, carrots, garlic, and whatever else Lucanis thought they needed leaning against her legs as they waited for their drinks at Cafe Pietra. A tradition after every grocery run now.
Rook eyed the bag of onions. “How do we always seem to be running out of onions?”
“Onions are a fundamental ingredient in almost every kind of dish. They add depth and flavor. And they’re healthy for you.” Lucanis looked at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She blinked at him. “Right.” She leaned her arms on the table. “I… don’t cook much.”
“I can see that. Bellara was quick to take you off the cooking roster, I hear.”
It wasn’t that she was uninterested in cooking — she had leafed through a few cookbooks of the famous chefs of Vanneska the Fourth and the Fifth. There just weren’t a lot of opportunities for it between classes, research, and Watcher duties. Rook, however, was well-acquainted with the dormitory cafeteria.
“Probably for the best.” Undead cooks didn’t care much for taste and junior Watchers didn’t get much of a say on the menu. “We’re all better off with me on dishwashing duty.”
Their drinks arrived — coffee for Lucanis (surprise, surprise) and hot chocolate for her. A sweet treat at the end of the world. She sighed happily into her cup at the first taste, Lucanis eyeing her intently.
“Would you like to learn?” He sipped at his coffee. “Cooking, I mean.”
Rook blinked at him, waiting to see if he was joking. The silence stretched as he took another sip. She cleared her throat and laughed almost nervously. “Me? I… maybe? I don’t know.”
It was on her mind all the way back to the Lighthouse. Her? Learning to cook? Now? She was caught up in the idea that she almost didn’t notice the little book on her dresser until it fell off when she was rummaging through her clothes.
She picked it up, curiosity getting the better of her as she thumbed through it. It was a small cookbook for beginners. Smartly annotated by varying hands, its pages soft and its spine showing signs of being well-loved.
A short note was tucked between the pages for spaghetti alla carbonara and gnocchi with pesto.
This was mine when I was a boy. Come find me before dinner. I will teach you.
***
Bellara
Giggles spilled through Rook’s room.
“She felt it all over. Her attraction to the hero, a powerful tingle, nearly exquisite,” Rook recited dramatically, before bursting into another fit of giggles, Bellara following suit. “Oh, Bel, I love it. I knew you were cooking up something good when I caught you last time. You could almost say I felt it all over, like—”
“Rook!” Bellara squealed, snatching the notebook from Rook’s hands, face flushed from the compliment. Rook only grinned.
Bellara looked down at the notebook on her lap and then back at Rook. “Do you really think it's good? I feel like I got a little sloppy with the part where the hero goes—”
“It’s perfect, Bel,” Rook interrupted her. “I’d love to read more. If you want me to.”
“Thank you.” Bellara let out a breathless laugh. “Actually…” She bit her lip and scooted closer to Rook on the couch, then lowered her voice as if to share a secret. “I, uh, based the hero off… you.”
“Me?”
“You're just so cool,” she said in a rush, “We have all these stories of heroic wardens conquering the Blight and dashing champions protecting their city, and I thought, yeah, Rook's just as great as the Champion of Kirkwall, she should get her own story too. The Hero who fought two gods and, against all odds, saved the day with the help of her friends.”
“And don’t forget this knife we found,” Rook joked, but she felt her heart squeeze hard in her chest.
Bellara laughed. “So, yeah, that's what I did. Well, am trying to do. I'm kinda writing as we go along.” Her fingers tightened around the notebook, almost nervous. “Am I being weird? Please don't say it's weird.”
Before she could think, Rook wrapped her arms around Bellara's shoulders, embracing her friend tightly. “Bel, that is the nicest thing anyone has said to me. Ever.”
Rook didn't set out to be a hero, she didn't imagine herself in the shoes of the Hero of Ferelden or the Champion or the Inquisitor. When the War of the Banners started, she did what she thought was right: stop the fighting before it got worse and ruined the people she imagined to be her family. In return, she was exiled.
Well, exile was a strong word. She wasn't technically, formally exiled — but it certainly felt like it. Peers and professors alike, people she looked up to, scorning her for her actions, her idiocy, and blaming her for the consequences of the nobility being put off. Even the most sympathetic of the Watch who quietly agreed with her had gently suggested she travel until heads cooled off.
