#shadows falling

Rules: post 5 random facts about your OC. It can be fun or tragic, spicy or not, short or long, with or without explanation, fascinating or mundane, your choice.

Thank you for the tag @chaosherald <3 (and sorry it took so long, I'm always behind on everything :D)

Rook Volkarin

Here we go, in no particular order:

Rook has an identical twin sister. Her name is Willow, she's trans, and got all the ability to plan ahead, which is why Rook is like *that* (a reckless impulsive disaster).

He has a sweet tooth (like half the Rooks out there) and he would absolutely enjoy Turvi's (courtesy of @davrinsleftpectoral <3 I adore the boy) rainbow churros. Emmrich has a hard time getting Rook to eat normal food, because the boy inherited my horrible eating habits.

Rook hates wearing shoes, because it's easier to climb stuff without them. Emmrich tried to make him wear them to a ball once and he lasted about half an hour before hiding them under a table.

He has lightning pattern scarring on his right side that branches onto his torso and right thigh (I really liked the look of that one in the character creator, so it stuck), that's a souvenir from an artifact explosion. Rook is a Veil Jumper, but not too good at tinkering (didn't stop him from trying).

He doesn't much like jewelry, because it gets in the way, but there are two pieces he will alway wear: his wedding ring, a simple gold band with four pieces of amethyst (Rook managed to scratch it up within a week; Emmrich says it adds charm), and a fine golden chain bracelet, which Emmrich gave him on their honeymoon. The latter is enchanted to glow if Rook enters the Fade, because he was a little traumatized by the whole Fade prison thing.

You know what? I'm adding Tal too :D

Taliesin Lavellan

(I had to make him in Veilguard too, because Inquisition's character creator is evil)

Tal has the worst resting bitch face ever. It comes out the most when he's staring at someone he's into, because he stops thinking at that point. Bull realizes pretty soon that the death glares are looks of appreciation and behaves accordingly, but Dorian spends a bit of time wondering whether Tal secretly hates him.

His favorite color is yellow, like sunlight through trees at dawn.

He's very glad to be rid of his left arm by the end of Trespasser, because it's a source of constant pain at that point. And the mechanical one Dagna makes for him is more fun anyway.

He lies about how he's feeling a lot of the time, because admitting his feelings would mean having to confront them, and he's not about to do that.

He used to prank his older sister a lot when he was a kid and he channels that energy into pranking Solas during Inquisition times. Sera is an eager accomplice.

Tags and more oc's under the cut, because this got me thinking about the ones from my original works and I had to write it down.

Thanks for the tag @vishantikaffar <3

Okay so I'm maybe cheating a little? Cause I only have one canon Rook, but I also have a few characters I made in Veilguard simply because I needed to visualize them and they live elsewhere. So. Here's the poll and lore under the cut so you can make an informed decision about which one of my gremlins you wish to date. (Am I taking this thing as an excuse to yap about them? Maaaaybe...)

Rules: make a post with all of the WIPs you are bringing into the new year with you! and tell us a bit about them 🥰

Thank you for bringing this to my attention @thedissonantverses <3 This is a fun one (and will probably get long. Augh :D). I'm glad I finally managed to put my wips in a bit of an order.

Okay so Ellipsus tells me I have 67 works. Ow. But it's counting separate chapters, so let's see...

11 emmrook things, including the blasted honeymoon fic.

4 original works.

1 long forgotten jayvik domestic fluff thingy.

1 inquisition fanfic.

and 14 works of assorted smut, most of which will likely never see the light of day.

So that's just 31 wips. Yay :D I won't be getting into all of them, cause then we'd be here all day and then some, but I will absolutely yap about my current faves. You've been warned.

I'm only late by one day this time :D an improvement to be sure. Got tagged by the lovely @thedissonantverses <3

Am I jumping between ten things at once again? Of course I am, so here's a selection of my latest bullshit.

An as yet unnamed fic, in which Emmrich prepares for Rook's funeral. This happens during Rook's stint in the Fade prison and answers the question of why there was a comfy coffin ready to go after Rook came back.

Emmrich had always taken solace in funerary rites. Death and loss were immutable facts of existence, but going through the motions, letting the grief out with the lighting of the candles and ringing of the bells had the ability to soothe a shattered heart. Though expecting to perform the rites for the one he loved – oh, what a coward he'd been not to admit it when he could – was proving to be the hardest thing he'd ever done. Rook had been gone for three hundred and eighty seven hours at this point and each new hour was stabbing its needle-pointed claws right into the bleeding muscle of Emmrich's heart. There hadn't been time to apologize, to take back his foolish words borne out of his own wretched fears, and in the last proper conversation they'd had, Emmrich accused Rook of being naive. Too young. Too reckless, impulsive, unable to discern what was best for him, as if Emmrich knew better. As if Emmrich wasn't a craven fool who only wanted to save himself from heartbreak. And he hadn't succeeded anyway, because his heart lay battered somewhere among the remains of his ribcage.

From a later chapter of that inquisitor/iron bull/dorian fic The bed is big enough for three, isn't it?. Tal becomes the Inquisitor. The scene always struck me as a bit funny in game, cause springing that on a person seems like a Lot. Couple that with an elf rightfully worrying that the shems are going to find out the evil orb is elven and of course Tal comes to a very wild conclusion.

Cassandra kept talking as they walked and they got to the top of the staircase where Leliana was standing with a big-ass sword. A public execution wasn't something he'd been expecting, but they'd probably found out about the orb. Tal froze. Fighting his way out of this would be tough even with his Creators forsaken anchor thing, but there was nothing to do but try. “...an Inquisitor,” Cassandra finished whatever speech she'd been making and Tal planted his feet to blast them all into the Fade or something, but this didn't really fit the about-to-execute-you situation. “What?” he asked, shaking his head to clear it. “I said that the Inquisition needs a leader,” Cassandra said. “And you have proven that you have what it takes to be one.” Tal stared at her. “This is an ambush,” he growled and she smiled a little, eyes flicking behind him. He followed them and there was a silent crowd by the gate, watching with too much interest. He turned back to Cassandra with a glare. “Would you have come, had you known?” she smirked. “I'm gonna set you on fire,” he whispered. “Of that I am certain,” she nodded, still smirking. “But now you have your people to address.” “My people?” “They believe in you. In what you have done. And they trust you to lead them.”

I'm *this* close to finishing Shadows Falling, but of course the ending is fighting me. There's drama again.

“Ciaran?” Rhys tried. His voice was too weak, but Ciaran must have heard him from this close. But there was no answer, only shallow gasps for air, and Rhys cursed his entire bloodline for producing only one healer, who was nowhere near. The rubble around them shook and Rhys moved his hand towards Ciaran’s inch by agonizing inch. He promised not to abandon him and if holding him till the end was all he could do, then he would do it. He linked their fingers, squeezing gently. Even that little movement seemed to be taking a lot of energy and his head was spinning rather violently. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered and his fingers grew cold and too heavy to move.

And yet another unnamed fic under the cut, cause there's smut happening.

Was tagged by the lovely @notyourmamasdeerbat for this. Thank you, dear <3

Word of the week is still in progress and Rook is once again being tormented by courtly fashion.

“I’m not wearing that,” Rook said firmly, crossing his arms. “It's the height of Tevinter fashion!” Emmrich exclaimed in vain. “Yeah, that's exactly why.” Rook's nose was wrinkled in the way that Emmrich so adored. Just maybe not right now.

And here's five sentences from the new thing. It's the second pov character this time.

“Princess, you alive?” Her eyes shot open and she tried to scramble away from the voice. The elf was too close and was undoubtedly coming to kill her, now that he had her defenceless. “I'm not killing you,” he said, sitting back on his heels. "I wouldn't have bothered dragging you here if I was going to do that.”

The last line from the next chapter of shadows. My merry band of idiots is getting ready for a ball.

“I thought you should match, since you’re attending as husbands.”

And yet anotger last line from the second chapter of that emmrook pining sickfic.

“Man, you've got it so bad,” Davrin laughed. “Want me to give you some pointers?”

Thank you @notyourmamasdeerbat for the tag <3

I'm actually writing something for word of the week this time. Rook is being forced to attend a ball again, but this time his daughter is ten and about to come and cause mayhem with him.

“Yeah, Uncle Dorian can stuff it,” Ellie added and Emmrich wondered just what manner of silliness their daughter would get up to at the celebratory ball. He suspected that Dorian told them to bring her for exactly this reason.

The last line I wrote for Shadows Falling is from a chapter that's further along. Drama again.

“You won't make it unless I stop your ribs from poking new holes in your lungs, you idiot. Holly's got him,” Tristan said, fending off his hand quite easily.

The new thing is kinda all over the place, but it's gay again.

Aidan started running his fingers through his hair, loosening the braids in the same way he had seen Cyrus do every evening, and was rewarded with a soft sigh.

I'm... a bit late. Oh well. Was tagged by the lovely @notyourmamasdeerbat and @themontess <3

So, let's have a look at my latest bullshit.

Five sentences of Rook messing with an artifact. It's gonna be fine.

“Darling, is that wise? I think –” All Rook could see was blinding light.  “Ah, a teleportation spell,” Emmrich said at the same time Rook grumbled a “fuck”. They were… somewhere?

My murder gays are having a nice time for a bit.

Aidan held on and ran towards the edge, feet falling heavily next to Cyrus's silent ones, and they leapt up, flying above the world. Just the two of them. He watched Cyrus in their flight and he was the sun itself, hanging in the bright blue sky for an eternal moment, rays of blonde hair flying wild and beautiful. His laughter sounded like freedom and he couldn't help but laugh in response. They let go of each other at the top of their arc, plunging into the clear water below. The cold punched all the air out of him and he clawed his way to the surface, gasping and sputtering, and Cyrus was already there, swimming towards him to catch his face and drag him close for a kiss that nearly drowned him. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, because they were here and alive and he wanted this for more than a little while.

And Ciaran and Rhys are attending a ball. This is also going to be fine. Nothing bad will happen.

Ciaran caught Rhys by the waist and led him through the steps. Dancing really was not that difficult, no matter how much Rhys whined about it at times. And it was quite enjoyable, even if his toes suffered a touch. There was one slight issue, though, besides his toes being murdered. Rhys was… he was too handsome like this, too close and watching him with too much love again and it wasn't helping Ciaran find out if there were any Shadows in their vicinity, because he couldn't tear his eyes away from him. “Could you stop?” Ciaran whispered to him, because this really wasn't helping. Rhys, of course, looked confused. “Stop what?” he whispered back. “I am doing my best where not treading on your toes is concerned.” “It's quite hard to focus when you're staring at me like a besotted fool,” Ciaran explained and tried not to let his attention stray to the fact that he was probably staring like a besotted fool himself. And Rhys had the gall to chuckle softly and grin that idiotic handsome grin of his. “But it helps us be inconspicuous at least. We look just like any other couple enjoying the night.” “Marvelous,” Ciaran sighed and got kissed for it.  In front of the entire ballroom.

Was tagged by the lovely @notyourmamasdeerbat <3 thank you, you always have such great stuff to show.

So I'm working on uhh... like five things at once, but no one is surprised by that anymore. Here's some bits.

I have an emmrook thing in the works (the cursed honeymoon fic that's taking me sooo long to finish for some unknowable reason). The boys are about to visit an absolutely not haunted ruin.

“I have heard of an elven ruin up in the hills,” Emmrich said, eyes shining and hands fluttering. “How about we go investigate it?” Rook narrowed his eyes at him. “Is it haunted?” Emmrich gave him a slow blink that was undoubtedly meant to reassure him, but Rook knew what happened after reassurances like that. Ghost bullshit. Even though Emmrich insisted that ghosts didn’t exist. “I’ve asked around town and it is perfectly safe.” Rook sighed. He was going to do it anyway, because he couldn’t bear to disappoint that hopeful expression. “Yeah, right. I’m taking the daggers.” Emmrich clapped his hands. “Splendid!” he said and there it was, that spark in his eyes Rook would do anything for. They packed up snacks for the day and the walk to the ruin was even nice. They were walking through the woods, there were no pastures with mean druffallo in their way and even the bugs were leaving Rook alone today. And the trees there were very good for climbing, so Rook went up one and followed in Emmrich’s tracks by jumping from one tree to another.  “The path is not to your liking, I take it?” Emmrich chuckled. “It’s boring,” he called down before jumping between two trees Emmrich was just walking past. Emmrich laughed in answer. Emmrich was walking sedately onwards and Rook had to descend to walk next to him, because the distances between trees were getting too big. “How are you not out of breath?” Rook asked, breathing a little too heavily. Emmrich smirked at him. “Possibly because I have not deemed it necessary to climb every tree we came across, my dear.” “Smart, aren’t you?” “I do pride myself on the fact,” Emmrich nodded, still smirking and Rook slapped his ass lightly to make him squawk. “But you didn’t see that coming anyway,” Rook smirked too. “That was a touch juvenile, don’t you think?” Emmrich sighed and caught him by the hand, linking their fingers.  Rook nodded. “Yeah. Someone needs to balance out your dignifiedness.” “That was not a word.” “You got me anyway. You’re smart like that,” Rook grinned and Emmrich huffed what sounded a little like a laugh and dragged him closer by the hand, catching his chin to make him look up.

Shadows Falling, chapter 18, wherein the boys are attempting to learn to dance so they can show their faces at a ball. It's tough going.

“Would you like to try again?” Ciaran asked when they were finally allowed to retreat upstairs.  Rhys sighed. “I will admit that I would not, but it would probably be for the best.” Ciaran watched him for a moment, a crease forming between his brows. “I wasn’t expecting this to be so difficult for you. Is it the leg?” “Not so much the leg as… everything, I’d say. You may have noticed that I am not the most graceful person you have ever met.” “I don’t know. There seems to be plenty grace to you when you are not red in the face trying to count dance steps. And you are intelligent enough when you apply yourself, so I believe that we can make this work. You only really need to learn to dance with me, after all.” “Am I now? What if I am offered a dance by some dashing noble?” “Then you shall politely decline and dance with your pretend husband,” Ciaran stated firmly, coming closer and leading one of Rhys’s hands towards his waist. At least he seemed to know which hand went where, because Rhys was apparently utterly hopeless even at such a simple thing. “Not keen on sharing, I take it?” he asked lightly. “Not at all,” Ciaran  nodded and caught his free hand in his. A thrill went up Rhys’s spine and it didn’t seem to be caused only by the touch. “Try not to tread on my toes too often, will you?” he added with a rather cheeky grin and Rhys bent to kiss it away. Ciaran didn’t protest and pressed himself closer and Rhys almost hoped that dancing could be postponed in favor of more pleasurable activities, but for that he would have needed a less hard-headed partner. “I shall endeavor to keep your toes as safe as possible,” Rhys said when Ciaran grasped his chin to push him not so gently away. His cheeks were dark and Rhys kissed one before Ciaran caught his bearings and pushed him away again. “I know what you are trying to do and let me assure you –” he sighed softly as Rhys caught the hand impeding him and kissed the side of his throat “- that it will not work,” he finished rather breathlessly. “Are you sure?” Rhys tried. “I think it’s working rather well.” He tried to get a hand under his shirt and that unfortunately woke Ciaran from the daze he’d fallen into after about the fifth kiss. “I am absolutely sure, you fiend,” Ciaran snapped and tucked his shirt firmly into his trousers. “You are not getting anything until you have proven that you won’t embarrass me by tripping over your own feet.” He caught Rhys’s hands and wrangled them into position.

And Birds in Flight, chapter 6. Cyrus is on a rescue mission. It's going... let's just say it's going.

There was an arrow in his side, tearing at him with every breath he took. This wouldn't stop him, it wouldn't and he heaved himself up for a second arrow to stick in the back of his thigh. He fell again, but he was close, he could reach them, if only he wasn't being held back by too many hands. And someone was laughing. He knew that laugh and he wanted to squeeze it right out of the bastard traitor's throat. He thrashed against the fuckers holding him, he needed to kill that piece of shit right the fuck now! “I knew you'd come for them,” Al laughed. As if he didn't know what he was going to do to him, as if he shouldn't be pissing himself in fear right now, because once he got his hands on him –  Spark whistled and Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut, turning away to hide his face from the blinding light that was about to follow the sound. He was let go, because the thugs were all covering their eyes. Now.  Now he could kill them all. He pulled the arrow out of his leg with a grunt and stabbed it through the neck of the one next to him. She fell and he took her sword, slashing across the next one's throat Pain pulsing through his right side, stabbing, burning, he didn't give a shit, because he was alive when he killed and everything else could wait. Another was staggering towards him, sword drawn and weaving through the air as its owner was trying to blink her sight back. He struck her down. No mercy for the defenceless, not after they tried to take what was his.