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It is a tiny, noisy, smelly, helpless lump. It takes up all of Rook and Lucanis's time and attention. When Lucanis finally sleeps and Spite gets a turn in their body, the baby shrieks and wakes him up again. For reasons Spite can't understand, Lucanis wants to be around the baby all the time. Lucanis thinks about the baby all the time.
Rook says it will someday be a person. Spite has his doubts. Even when it becomes a slightly larger lump that can move around on its own, it crawls on its hands and knees. It doesn't use its feet. Even Curiosity can use its feet!
Then one night when Spite finally gets to use the body and he's doing flying loops around the ballroom chandelier, he feels something tug at him. It's not magic. It's not a smell or a sound or a shift in the air. He doesn't know what it is, but he thinks he should—or that he did once.
He follows the feeling and, to his surprise, ends up at the baby's room. When he creaks the door open to peek inside, he braces for shrieking, but the baby, though awake, doesn't even seem to notice him. Its dark eyes are fixed firmly on the bars of the strange cage it sleeps in. Its brow is furrowed with tiny lines, and its mouth pulls down in a pursed pout. It reaches out its tiny hands, grabs the bars, and rocks on its fat little knees.
It wants to do something. It's determined to do something.
Spite leans a little further into the room. Something about the scene has him captivated. He practically holds his breath as the baby lets out a grunt of effort and then slowly, painstakingly pulls itself to its feet. With a whoop, Spite dashes to the sleeping cage, wings spread wide, bathing the room in a bright purple glow.
"You used! Your feet!" he exclaims.
The baby's eyes go round, and Spite shrinks back. He remembers the one time he tried to show the baby his wings when it was a smaller lump. It had screamed and screamed, and Rook had asked him not to do it again. The baby's mouth opens, and Spite prepares to flee the body and let Lucanis handle the screaming.
But the baby doesn't scream. It laughs.
The shrieking Rook says is the baby's laugh isn't all that different from the screaming, but its mouth is stretched in a wide grin. It releases its grasp on the bars to clap its hands and immediately falls back onto its rump. With much less effort than the first time, it pulls itself up to stand again. It uses one hand to firmly grip a bar and reaches the other toward Spite's wings.
Spite flutters one wing closer, and the baby, still laughing, bends and straightens its knees, bouncing in delight.
"Pah!" it says, which is the noise it makes when it sees Lucanis. "Pah!"
"No," Spite says. "Not Pah. Spite." He points to the wings and then his glowing eyes. "Spite."
The baby stops its bouncing, and the focused expression of before returns. It tilts its head and fixes Spite with a serious gaze. Spite leans closer until they are almost nose to nose.
"Spite," he repeats.
"Sssssss...," the baby hisses.
Spite nods and doesn't lean back even when the baby's free hand tugs roughly at his hair. "Yes. Say it. Say Spite."
"Spah," the baby says. And then, after a particularly emphatic yank of Spite's hair, it triumphantly yells, "Spy!"
"Yes!" Spite crows. His wings shiver in excitement, and the baby bats at the one closest.
"Spy!" it shouts. "Spy!"
Spite grins at the giddy feeling bubbling in his chest, one only Lucanis has felt around the baby until now.
The baby knows him. The baby likes him.
They spend several minutes enjoying their new game. Spite laughs as he flicks his wings toward the baby and away, and the baby cheerfully cries his name as it tries to snatch the gleaming feathers. But the baby's voice gets softer, and its grin shrinks to a smaller smile and then fades entirely. Its round face scrunches up again, its focus engaged in some new thought.
Spite watches breathlessly, waiting to see what the baby will learn to do next. The baby's face turns pink and then a mottled red with effort. Rook told him the baby wouldn't have wings, but as Spite watches the tiny muscles tremble with strain and hears the baby grunt, a little part of him wonders if feathers and light will suddenly erupt from its back.
Then the smell hits.
Spite rears back with a snarl of disgust. He and Lucanis have perfected smooth handovers of their shared body, but this time Spite jerks away with such abruptness that Lucanis is left staggering. Spite doesn't apologize. He flees the room to escape the horrid stench and then decides to flee the entire family wing just to be safe.
hey i’m obsessed with lucanis (and spite) as well! I’m wondering if you would be interested in a mourn watcher elf rook x lucanis and have it be the week (or weeks i can’t remember) of rook being trapped in solas’ regret prison. i feel like spite would be pissed and confused as to why rook is missing! thank you and best wishes :)))
Lights Out
Pairing: GN!Rook x Lucanis (x Spite)
Summary: Rook is gone. Lucanis is grieving. Spite is restless.
A/N: I’m sorry this isn’t longer! I felt like dragging it out too much takes away from the visceral gut punch it is.
DATV Masterlist
Death was all Lucanis had ever known.
It clung to him like a shadow, a constant presence in his life as a Crow. It was his trade, his art, and his curse. The blood he spilled lined his pockets but left scars on his soul, marks he carried with him even when he tried to move beyond the life he once embraced. But death had always been something controlled. Until now.
Rook was gone. You were gone.
He stood in the doorway to your room, once petrified by the thought of how it reflected the Ossuary, now only drawn to what was left of your presence. His hands flexed at his sides, his chest feeling hollow.
The night was heavy with silence, the Lighthouse mourning the loss of its leader. Spite stirred uneasily in the recesses of his mind, his voice a low growl that rippled with confusion. “Where. Is. Rook?” The demon hissed, each word sharp as one of his daggers.
Lucanis didn’t respond immediately. He had no answer, and the truth stung worse than any wound.
Spite pressed on, his voice gaining a harsh edge. “Where. Is. Rook?!”
Lucanis could feel Spite’s frustration growing as he was ignored. Your absence was a gaping void, a wound that bled frustration and fear and loss. There was nothing he could do. The Fade was something so far out of his understanding, even with the demon possessing him. Still, he’d spent days searching, combing every lead, every thread of information he could grasp, only to find himself standing here, fists clenched in futile rage.
“Lucanis!” Spite snarled.
All he heard was you screaming his name as you were pulled into the Fade. He relived that moment every time he closed his eyes. What could he have done different? You had survived against impossible odds, and he had gotten his second shot at Ghilan’nain, somehow killing her. That high was quickly dashed as he watched your wide eyes, saw you reaching for him, screaming for him as you were dragged out of his reach.
“Where?” He demanded, pushing against the boundaries of Lucanis’s mind as though searching for you.
“I don’t know,” Lucanis’s voice was ragged as he huffed, taking a step further into your room and closing the door behind him. He ran a hand through his already-mussed hair. “They’re gone,” he repeated.
The faint scent of Nevarran spices drifted around the room, and the lingering smell of your oils. The things you had on a day to day basis haunted him. The Nevarran urns around the room and hastily scribbled notes on Elven architecture and the runes you’d found during the group’s travels.
Lucanis didn’t have the heart to go any further in the room, his back pressed firmly against the door. His chest was tight, and he was finding it almost impossible to breathe, but all he wanted was to drink in your scent as long as it lingered. It was all he had left of you.
He had fought his way through countless battles, defied impossible odds, endured the Ossuary, and survived Ghilan’nain’s wrath, but none of it mattered now. The one light in his life had been extinguished. Every breath hit him like a blow to the chest, the tangible reminder of your presence that made his breath hitch. Every object in this room screamed your name, echoing in the silence that now filled the space.
Lucanis pressed harder back against the door, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. He forced himself forward, gripping the edge of the chaise lounge as he sat down heavily. His head fell into his hands as the weight of his grief threatened to crush him. He had dared to hope. After years of blood and shadows, he had begun to believe he could have something more---someone more. And now, that hope lay in ruins.
Spite stirred uneasily in the recesses of his mind, his presence a simmering heat that was neither comforting nor intrusive. The demon was quiet at first, an uncharacteristic stillness that only deepened the ache in Lucanis’s chest.
The room seemed to shrink around him, the walls pressing closer as the grief threatened to suffocate him. He reached out, almost without thinking, and picked up one of the notes you had left on the desk. The parchment was worn, the ink smudged in places, but your handwriting was unmistakable. His thumb traced the curves of your letters, his hands trembling as he clutched the note like a lifeline.
“You were my freedom,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. Tears blurred his vision, spilling over to streak down his face. “The only thing that made all of this worth it.”
Spite’s presence shifted, his usual arrogance subdued by something almost… mournful. “Rook…” the demon murmured, his voice a low growl that trembled at the edges.
Lucanis’s grip on the note tightened, his teeth clenched as guilt and rage swirled within him. “I failed them,” he hissed,his voice trembling with self-loathing. “I should have done more. I should have saved them.”
Spite didn’t argue. Lucanis wasn’t sure he was listening at all. The demon was restless, his silence heavy, a shared grief that settled over them both. “Rook.” Spite said again, pushing against Lucanis’s skull. He wouldn’t settle. He couldn’t. Spite wouldn’t stop moving, stop searching, looking through Lucanis, looking through the room, searching for his Rook.
“Spite…” Lucanis said wearily. “Spite, they’re gone,” he repeated, his voice cracking.
“Rook!” Spite pounded against Lucanis’s mind, screaming as though it would do anything to bring you back.
“Spite, enough!” Lucanis yelled finally, hands tangling in his hair. “Rook is gone! Gone! The one good thing---” His voice broke, and he couldn’t finish. The anguish in his chest was too much, a wound that refused to heal.
Lucanis pressed the note against his chest, his shoulders shaking as he fought to contain the sobs threatening to escape. For a long moment, he simply sat there, the silence of the room broken only by his ragged breaths. The scent of you lingered, faint but persistent, wrapping around him like a ghostly embrace.
Spite shifted again, his presence like a smoldering ember in the back of Lucanis’s mind. “Lucanis…” the demon growled quietly.
Lucanis’s hands stilled, his breath catching. “I know…” he whispered. “I know.”
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Hello! Today I’m very excited to finally share this final project in my editorial design specialization: a children’s storybook album, inspired by the dialogue in The Wake written by Mary Kirby, where Illario talks about the time he went with Lucanis to hunt wyverns as children.
I must mention that I took the liberty of introducing my own headcanon about their ages, with Illario being the oldest, because Lucanis strikes me as having a very clear "younger brother" behavior.
For this project, I’ve poured blood, sweat, and tears into it. I ended up doing absolutely everything myself when my classmate, who was supposed to help me with the layout for her part of the team project, just decided not to, but I feel content enough with the result to share it. Originally in Spanish, I translated and edited it into English so more people can enjoy it!
There’s a lot I’d like to say, I’ll be posting some sketches, the development process, the designs, and my usual notes [here], and I can answer any questions you might have about the project in the editorial area (or anything else about the project really), but for this post in particular, I just want to give you full, free access to this illustrated book and thank you because this has been on my mind and occupying my time for the last six months.
First, thank you to everyone in this amazing fandom who has supported my creative projects, whether by leaving kudos on AO3, liking my posts here on Tumblr, leaving comments, sending messages, or any form of support! You motivate me to create every day, make me feel welcome, and it’s so nice to be here.
Thanks to @woundedsoul12 for being the first person to welcome me to the fandom, read my works, and be vocal with me about it! In the beginning, I was so afraid of writing again, of making mistakes in some way, and I was very shy about showing what I was doing, but thanks to you, I’ve been able to gain confidence. Without your support, I don’t think I would have decided to keep creating for this fandom. You’ve allowed people to get to know me and have been incredibly kind about me and my work. I owe you so many thanks, I hope you never change, you’re an amazing person!
Thanks to @theheartmold for getting me interested in Illario as a character. Without your posts sharing your interest in the character, your analysis, and your overall enthusiasm, I honestly wouldn’t have been interested in reading Tevinter Nights or The Wake. After two playthroughs in the game, you made me decide to sit down and see that Illario had MUCH more to offer than his tragic portrayal in Veilguard. Maybe I don’t interact much with you, but I definitely wanted to let you know that without your posts, this illustrated story and in general, my content about Illario Dellamorte wouldn’t exist. You introduced me to my new favorite character, thank you so much!
And again, thanks to EVERYONE who has ever interacted with my work and with me as a person! Who has liked my art, fanfics, whatever! I hope you can now enjoy having this book that I give you with so much, so much happiness and love!
For AWR Chapter 13 of The Lights Out Job: "Current"
He tensed as the magic seared through the damaged tissue. Instead of the cooling, exploratory trickle that it had been for mapping the path of the wound, it filled the channel all at once. It rushed through the riverbed under his skin, the path that I had set for it, with a roaring violence.
"Maker," Lucanis gasped, eyes closed, his injured hand closing on mine and tugging me closer to his chest.
From A Working Relationship (The Lights Out Job), an undercover Rookanis fic where prestigious contract in Minrathous was designed as a death trap for a young Rook, who's forced to accept the intervention of a stranger of much higher rank.
I'm not super happy with the colours, but for the time I spent on it, I think I did well! Here's to more drawing (and figuring out some consistency in drawing specific characters) in 2026.
Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), fingering, praise, romance, established relationship, porn without plot, no description of Rook so you can imagine whatever you want!
Notes- Dedicated to my darling @ollypopwrites who has been fueling thoughts of our beloved necromancer! It's so nice to send filth back and forth again! Please do check out her fics too cause they're hot and fantastic!! And I purposefully made this gender neutral so this can be enjoyed by everyone (I romanced Emmrich with a trans woman Rook) but you can picture whatever you wish! Enjoy!!
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date. I also post on AO3 under the same name
~
“Darling, your beauty would make even the strongest of men weep,” Emmrich purred as he slipped his last ring off his finger and placed it beside Rook.
“Do I see tears in your eyes, Emmrich?” Rook smirked.
“Quite surely,” he replied as he reached for his gold band on his wrist.
“Wait,” Rook grabbed his hand, stopping him, “Leave those on.”
Emmrich’s eyes trailed up to meet Rook’s gaze. The sincere look he found there made his heart swell, “As you wish, darling,” his tone dropped, “You know I could never deny you anything you wanted, my dearest.”
Rook’s skin warmed as a soft sigh escaped, “Emmrich…”
He had Rook stripped naked and seated on his desk, legs spread open and his rings laid out on either side. Emmrich remained fully clothed, the only flash of skin was the top buttons undone at Rook's insistence, wanting to see more of him. The glimmer of gold framed Rook’s figure perfectly, and the necromancer had to take a step back and admire the sight on his desk.
“Beautiful, darling,” he muttered as he took in a sharp breath at the way Rook looked at him.
“Come here,” Rook reached for him.
A chuckle emitted from Emmrich’s throat as he complied, leaning forward into his love’s embrace and crashing their lips together. He swallowed the moan Rook let out as they tasted each other. A rush of heat of his own pulsed through his body, making his pants strain with the ever growing and ever insatiated need for Rook.
“Mmm,” Emmrich groaned into the kiss as his hands roamed all over Rook’s body. He studied every dip and curve, memorizing every inch of his love. He huffed with amusement as his tongue tangled with Rook’s and he found a particularly sensitive spot. “I could never get enough of you, my darling.”
Rook’s mind spun already just from his kiss. And Emmrich’s touch was almost intoxicating, “Neither can I, Emmrich,” Rook mumbled as he moved down to nibble on a sensitive spot of the neck.
“Decadently sweet, my darling,” Emmrich murmured against Rook’s skin as he licked at the tight muscle on the base of the neck, making Rook mewl.
Rook clung to Emmrich’s shoulders, tugging at his shirt and wrinkling the fine fabric. But Emmrich didn’t care, in fact he hardly noticed as his mind was consumed with his lover. It was only when Rook’s hand made its way to his hair and gave the greys a tug that he groaned.
“Emmrich…” Rook sighed as tender hands caressed up and down.
“I have you, darling,” he gave Rook one last kiss before he broke away to admire the sight before him once again.
“And you always will,” Rook replied without a hint of doubt or hesitation.
The necromancer hummed as his eyes trailed down his beloved’s body. His hands followed his gaze, starting at Rook’s jaw. Cupping it gently to kiss Rook again, Emmrich ran his hands down to pinch at Rook’s nipples, and he delighted in the reaction that pulled. He gently massaged Rook’s chest for a moment before he adjusted his posture, holding onto his love by the hip with one arm while the other snaked in between the legs.
“Rook.”
“Please, Emmrich,” Rook all but begged, “You can’t stop now.”
His eyes darkened as he cupped between Rook’s legs, feeling the arousal that built up there. “Dearest,” he whispered as he carefully pushed a finger inside.
Rook’s mouth dropped open and eyes shut. All Rook could do was pant as Emmrich quickly added a second finger. The connection was a feeling unlike anything else Rook had ever felt before, and it caused a flutter within Rook’s chest.
“Maker,” Emmrich gasped as Rook’s warmth enveloped his fingers.
“Move, Emmrich… Please.”
He placed a tender kiss on the lips before he rested his forehead against Rook’s. He groaned, feeling his cock strain as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of his love. The sounds that came from Rook’s mouth were tantalizing, and it only spurred him on more. Encouraged with every moan and cry, Emmrich moved a little faster, savoring every little sound he heard.
But there was another sound that added more to the moment: his bracelets. The way they clanged and chimed with every thrust of his arm harmonized with Rook’s moans perfectly. And it was beautiful music to the necromancer’s ears. He grinned against his love as he realized this was what Rook intended all along... Clever.
“Darling…”
Rook’s eyes blinked open and were met with Emmrich’s loving gaze. A deep sigh warmed their faces as Rook’s heart skipped a beat. But, just as Rook was about to say something witty in response, Emmrich’s fingers found just the right spot deep inside. “Oh!” Rook cried out, “Emm…”
“That’s it’ darling,” he purred as he pumped his fingers in and out, slowly and reply, feeling every soft spot inside of Rook, “Show me, love,” he murmured as his voice went hoarse from his own strain, “Show me how beautiful you are when you come undone.”
All Rook could do was cry out in ecstasy as the room spun. With every thrust of Emmrich’s long fingers, coming undone became closer and closer. Waves of pleasure crashed through Rook as tingles erupted all over. Heat rose between the two lovers as Emmrich murmured soft praises in Rook’s ear as he thrust his fingers as deep as he could reach.
“Emmrich…” Rook moaned as a climax quickly built up inside.
“Come, darling. I’m here to catch you.”
His voice was that final push that sent Rook tumbling over the edge. Emmrich’s fingers hooked inside, stroking that sweet spot deep inside of Rook over and over again as screams of pleasure echoed in the room. Rook’s legs trembled on either side of his slender body. Leaning on him for support, Rook’s orgasm made the room feel like it was on fire and inside a tornado at the same time. It was overwhelming pleasure in the best way possible, and Rook knew it was something that could only have come from Emmrich. His expert touch mixed with his unwavering adoration was the perfect formula to make Rook come completely undone. And Rook would have it no other way.
As tears started to form in the corners of Rook’s eyes, Emmrich knew it was time to back off. For now at least. He slowed his movements, coaxing just that last bit of climax from Rook’s body before he stilled his fingers inside. Every little moan and whimper went right to his core as he felt the sticky evidence of Rook’s release on his palm.
Rook was a mess, and had never looked more beautiful to Emmrich.
“Exquisite, my dearest,” he hummed in Rook’s ear before kissing it.
The only response Rook had was a breathy laugh. A gasp then escaped Rook’s throat as Emmrich slowly pulled his fingers out, his bracelets jingling slightly at the careful movement. Immediately, his arms wrapped around Rook and held on tightly. He placed a series of light kisses on the side of his love’s head, his lips lingering on the temple for just a moment longer.
“Emmrich…” Rook breathed before kissing the necromancer deeply.
“Darling,” he whispered between tender kisses.
Rook’s hands landed on Emmrich’s chest, gently trying to push him back. But, Rook found him unmoveable. Breaking away from the kiss, Rook questioned, “Emmrich?”
“Darling,” Emmrich smirked as he kissed Rook’s forehead, “You didn’t believe I was finished with you just yet, did you?” his voice dropped as he dropped to his knees before Rook, looking up with a fire in his eyes, “My love, we are just getting started.”
