Not Going To Lie I Actually Laughed Out Loud To This One - Tumblr Posts

Galemancers are ready to welcome you into the Unhinged XD Emmrich's VA should ask Tim Downie (Gale's VA) how to cope with it.

No Solas romance in my videogame history, but the wild ride with Anders romance... Magnificent.

I don't think Bioware fully comprehends the absolute chaos it’s about to release by handing us, the unapologetic mage-bangers, Emmrich "well done, my dear" Volkarin after the emotional war crime that was the Solas romance.

It’s like they’re handing us an emotionally healthy daddy figure wrapped in a big ol’ “yes, praise me harder” bow and just expecting us to behave.

AO3? Oh, it’s about to be a bloodbath. A flood of unholy praise kink is going to rain down like mana from horny heaven. The poor voice actor? He’s got no idea what’s coming. Fans, barely coherent, will be sobbing in his DMs, pleading for him to record lines like, "darling, sweet thing, apple of my throbbing loins,” because suddenly that’s the only thing keeping them going.

And you just know the fics are gonna go there. We’re talking steamy, full-blown, knee-weakening sex scenes so detailed you’ll practically hear the slapping sounds through your screen. Every silver hair, every wrinkled brow is going to get worshipped like it’s the goddamn Holy Grail. Emmrich? He’s not just a mentor now, no—he’s the silver-fox sex wizard of everyone’s dirtiest, most depraved dreams.

Bioware, you’ve dragged us through the emotional meat grinder with Solas, and now you’re tossing us this emotionally sane and well-adapted snack with decades of good coping mechanisms? Oh, baby, the sex scenes are gonna be biblical. I’m talking hands-on-bookshelves, robes ripped off, candles flickering like we’re summoning a demon but, surprise, it’s just Emmrich praising your efforts in bed like you’re acing your dissertation. It's gonna be 'well done, my dear' while you’re doing ungodly things to that silver fox, and he’s stroking your hair like you just unlocked a new achievement.

Me? Oh, honey, I’ll be on the front lines like a horny general leading the charge into the unholy lands. November 1st? I’m not just showing up, I’m rolling in with a pre-written, fully locked-and-loaded stash of smut so scandalous, my Orthodox ancestors will not only crucify me—they’ll disown me in the afterlife. I’m gonna make them turn in their graves so hard, we’ll solve the energy crisis.

And let’s not get it twisted—I’m going to worship this thin, emotionally available mage like he’s the last goddamn spellcaster left in Thedas. I’m talking tongue tracing every single one of his ribs like I’m mapping out the delicate lines of a cathedral—except it’s not sacred, it’s blasphemous as fuck. Forget holy water; it’s gonna be sweat, and I’ll be so deep into my thirst, my own character, Rook, will be doing things that’d make even the most depraved demon of desire blush. Every sliver of his body, every wrinkle, every bone—especially the bones—is getting the Rook Treatment™.

Bioware? You better brace yourself because I’m about to publish smut so audacious, so flagrantly wanton, even the Deep Roads will seem vanilla.

We’ve suffered. And now poor Emmrich’s going to be buried alive under the weight of all that… pent-up thirst. Welcome to the show, sweet necromancer.