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Los Angeles, 1946. Acclaimed Hollywood actor Emmrich Volkarin has faced decades worth of hardships and scandals. He finds unexpected love when paired with Rook Ingellvar, a rising star, in his next feature film. Time will only tell how this budding romance will play out in Tinsletown…
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There was a hidden chemistry between the pair that unlocked the instant the cameras rolled, as they exchanged lines so naturally they might as well have been doing it together from the outset. It was no wonder Varric was a staunch supporter. Rook matched his fervour, easily slotting herself into character, giving him something to work with, to play with. And their rapport didn’t vanish into the ether when Iron Bull yelled cut—the air was still charged, his hair standing tall while they dallied around each other, stealing glances that spoke of their brief moment shared in secrecy.
Series
- Part 14 of A Necromancer's Melancholia
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So Much for Courtship by aloofness for Miss_Creative
Fandoms: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game)
21 Dec 2025
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Emmrich and Rook get stuck in a horrible storm, and must find a way to keep themselves warm to avoid catching hypothermia.
Series
- Part 16 of A Necromancer's Melancholia
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Set a few thousand years after the Sixth and final blight, Emmrich Volkarin adopts his niece, Rhiannon Ingellvar, after her parents perish in an automobile accident.
Or a look into Emmrich Volkarin’s life in Modern Thedas, as a Lich, after being stuck with Johanna Hezenkoss for a thousand+ years.
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The skeleton sang, absorbed in its work, Volkarin's voice ringing from its hollowed chest. Rhiannon should’ve left, skittered back to her room as fast and as quietly as she had arrived, but she pushed forward. She was drawn to it, to the voice, to the poetic lyrics in an old tongue.
“H-hello?” Rhiannon called out, and the skeleton turned, eye sockets blazing.
A flash of green blinded Rhiannon and she moved away, nearly falling over backwards. She rubbed her eyes, the light clinging to her periphery. When it faded, and the room returned to normal, it was Volkarin who stood where the skeleton had been, fingers clasping the same paintbrush.
“Rhiannon…” Volkarin’s face was long, eyes soft, the smile he forced on his lips crooked. He discarded the brush and rushed towards her, but when he got within arms reach, he hesitated.
Series
- Part 15 of A Necromancer's Melancholia
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After one too many shots of tequila, Emmrich confesses his love for Rook and then, whilst she drags him all the way home, proceeds to cry about it.
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Their dance was uncoordinated as they raised their glasses for another toast. Emmrich was cautious with his movements, not allowing a single drop to spill. Rook, however, held her glass crookedly. She appeared uninterested when some of the tequila dripped down her fingers, promptly licking it off her skin.
“Cheers,” they said in unison, and took the first shot.
“Oh...” It was the only word that left his lips, his taste buds alight as he perceived a range of different flavours. The tequila was smooth, but still burned his tongue. There was a smokiness to it, an undertaste, sitting on the roof of his mouth. A bit of spice, perhaps oak, and something sweet, like honey. He hadn’t expected that at all. By the colour of the tequila, he assumed it would’ve been equivalent to drinking motor oil, puncturing holes in his intestines. “That’s quite nice, Rook.”
Series
- Part 13 of A Necromancer's Melancholia
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Set in modern Thedas, Rook is an actress and Emmrich a renowned film composer. Although they live in the same posh apartment complex in downtown Nevarra City, they’ve never spoken. After a frightening earthquake, they both get trapped in a lift for 16+ hours—forming a strong bond that soon develops into something more than friendship.
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The playfulness vanished from Rook, replaced with something dire, frenzied. Her focus swayed between Emmrich's face and their hands, her thumb running along the back of his fingers. His world froze, petrified she would hear his heart hammering against his ribs—each violent thrum giving away his true inclinations—or feel his fingers perspiring, as he held her hand like it was a delicate flower petal.
Rook removed her hold, and Emmrich nearly gasped, regretting the absence of her touch, but thankful, oh, so thankful, not to be subjected to that torture any longer. He steepled his fingers, breathing in steadily through his nose and out again through pursed lips, to keep himself from dissolving into the ether.
Series
- Part 12 of A Necromancer's Melancholia
Recent series
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Summary
A collection of one-shots dedicated to Emmrich Volkarin.
- Words:
- 152,674
- Works:
- 16
- Bookmarks:
- 14
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Summary
Behold! All the Raphael one-shots I've written so far! They're mostly based on delicious prompts I've received on Tumblr, and of course, my growing obsession for that damned Devil. Full list also on Tumblr!
- Words:
- 47,764
- Works:
- 22
- Bookmarks:
- 10
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A collection of short stories about Raphael and the various mortals who have impacted him someway or another throughout his existence.
- Words:
- 14,460
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 1
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It seems that Baldurs Gate 3 still has me in a chokehold. I've been forced to branch out from Raphael and start writing Minthara fics. Damn you, Larian Studios! 😭 Full list also on Tumblr!
- Words:
- 4,221
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 1

