lavenderprose
Take an umbrella, it's raining
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People say "I love you" all the time, my dear--when they say, "Take an umbrella, it's raining," or, "Hurry back!" or even, "Watch out, you'll break your neck." [Maggie|29|USA|She/her] On Ao3 at users/LavenderProse.
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lavenderprose · 1 hour ago
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I love how Emmrich's tarot card makes him look so cool and sinister. Badass necromancer with the green magic and the glowing eyes. Mad scientist vibes. Then you meet him and he's like. Hello can I interest you in some love and affection. I would like to talk to you about flowers for the next six hours. If you look at me very nicely I may turn into a bowl of jello and then you can eat me does that sound nice? Marry me.
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lavenderprose · 3 hours ago
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The other passengers on the five hour flight I'm taking tomorrow: Oh look at that young professional. She's doing important work on her laptop.
The important work on my laptop: [Plap Plap Plap Plap] get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant
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lavenderprose · 21 hours ago
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Emmrich is a morning person and Rook is only a morning person under duress, which becomes only a minor issue after the gods are finally dead because Rook's ideal wake up time is roughly noon, and Emmrich's up at the asscrack of dawn every day whether he works or not.
It's six thirty AM and Rook's face-down on the bed, titties out and hair splayed across three pillows, and Elgar'nan breathed this last breath less than a week ago. Emmrich gave the various factions of Thedas exactly three days to demand Rook's attention and, on the morning of the fourth day, grabbed Rook with one hand and Manfred with the other and asked the Caretaker if there was an Eluvian that might deposit one anywhere in the area of the Cumberland countryside.
Emmrich apparently maintains a small country house here, for 'Whatever occassion might arise' (demented) and it's modest but pretty. Manfred trampled straight into the rose garden when they got here and hasn't emerged since, but Emmrich claims that's normal for him. Rook personally believes that Manfred, even, is still processing their mutual ordeal, but she's content to let him do it with the caterpillars and the rose petals. Not like a skeleton can be pricked by a thorn.
The moment they arrived, Emmrich sought out the housekeeper and told her that her services would not be required for the coming week, and to stand by on the subject of next week as well.
"Go celebrate the world not ending, Helga!" he'd said, maybe a bit too loud and manic, as he closed what was surely much more than a week's salary into her hand. Knowing Emmrich, there was already a very robust system in place to assure that his housekeeper received her generous salary every week--this was merely some sort of consolation pay for the very difficult task of being given a week of vacation.
Helga was Elven, at least as old as Emmrich and blinked at him like a vaguely surprised cat. She swept her gaze over Rook as well before leaving. She'd been smirking, Rook thought, as the door closed behind her.
Thus, they've been alone in the house, and Rook has been sleeping, staring vaguely into the distance, sleeping, reading from Emmrich's extensive collection, looking at the ceiling while trying to forget the sight of Bellara's blighted eyes, sleeping, bouncing on Emmrich's dick like it's her job, and sleeping sleeping sleeping.
They've been here for two days, more or less 48 hours, and many of those hours were spent in his lap. Fucking him, yes, but also just clinging onto him like an extra limb because right now, she feels like she might disintegrate if he isn't touching her. He reads to her. Smiles and laughs through so many stories from his life. She thinks about Solas disappearing into the Fade, maybe never to be seen again. The last God of her people.
When she goes too quiet, sometimes he tells her a joke or puts a little chocolate in her mouth. Once, he ate her out while humming the Nevarran national anthem and she laughed as she came. Sometimes he joins her in melancholy and they lay together and cope. Sometimes she cries, mostly from exhaustion and relief and grief, and he kisses her face. Sometimes he cries. From exhaustion and relief and grief, probably. She tucks her head under his chin and rubs her small hand up and down his broad back, and then she swipes the snot and tears out of his mustache with her very own thumb because she loves him, she loves him.
This morning, she flutters her eyes open and enjoys the texture of the silk sheets against her bare body (Last night, and for lack of a better term, Emmrich fucked her to sleep--apparently, when the world isn't in active peril, he's very into the whole tantric thing. Hours of crazy hot, dragging sex that destroys braincells, but only the ones she's better off not having.) and she does that for about thirty seconds before she realizes it's just barely light outside, blue and cool. Then she starts wondering why the fuck she's awake right now.
The answer becomes apparent immediately: Emmrich is in the ensuite bath, running water and making the weirdest, loudest noises. She thinks at first that he's managed to gag himself with his own toothbrush, but then he sneezes, blows his nose with a honking noise like a malfunctioning horn, and clears his throat so thunderously that Rook thinks he must somehow be drowning.
She rolls out of bed and wobbles into the bathroom, birthday suit and all, because clearly he's become sick in the night and it's now up to her to guide him back to bed and care for him. She's surprised, then, to find him looking hale and healthy in front of the sink. He's wearing nothing but silk pajama pants and down slippers. He's making an absurd clicking sound and swirling a finger inside his ear.
"Are you okay?" Rook demands, propped on the doorjamb.
Emmrich jumps a foot on the air, winces as he jabs his own eardrum, and says, "Ow! Darling, please don't sneak up on--"
"You are being so loud," she says, because the polite section of her brain hasn't woken up. "Are you choking? Are you sick?"
"No," Emmrich says slowly. "I just--oh, the door must have fallen open. The floor isn't terribly even here. I'm sorry, darling--sound does carry in this old house." He twirls a finger behind his ear and clinks again. "I fear I suffer seasonal allergies, dearest, and it's been a long while since I slept more than a night or two outside of the Necropolis or the Fade. There's quite a bit of...mucus..." He clears his throat.
"Gross," says Rook, and then, "It's dawn, Emmrich."
"Mm-hm." Emmrich is now leaning across the counter, two inches from the mirror and examining his mustache like a jewel appraiser.
"Why are you making heinous old man noises at dawn?"
His eyes veer towards her reflection in the mirror, and they make eye contact in the glass. Very neatly, and with a raised eyebrow, he says, "Heinous old man noises."
Rook starts making hawking, gutteral noises in the back of her throat. It's a pretty faithful imitation.
"Dearest," he yells over the sound. "I apologize for waking you--"
"I cannot believe," says Rook, "that I'm going to spend the rest of my life being woken up at dawn by the hacks and sneezes of a man who wears wing tip shoes."
She's halfway through a half-asleep snicker at the hilarity of her own statement when Emmrich fixes her with a surprised look in his wet eyes and she realizes she's never actually voiced the idea that has become an unspoken certainty in her mind: That he's the love of her life, and her life may not be as short as she was thinking it might be this time last week, and that she wants nothing more than to spend the rest of her ambiguously-numbered mornings waking up to him.
She also realizes the truth of the situation. The baths in the Lighthouse were communal, and one never knew which companion they might encounter during their morning routine. Emmrich is fastidious and spends a great deal of his energy in broadcasting the image of a man who is utterly put together in everything he does. Never a hair out of place or a thread loose. It's a privilege of the highest order to witness him this way. Sleep-mused hair, shadow on his jaw. The bleariness of sleep in his eyes and, yes, even the throat-clearing and nose blowing.
Emmrich clears his throat and whispers, "Forgive me. I've...lived alone. For a very long time."
Rook's eyes water as she croaks, "Not anymore. I don't...want you to."
A smile spreads his face. It is wobbly, boyish, and so so beautiful. The absurdity of the situation finally reaches her--she is very naked and he's only slightly more dressed and there is a perfectly warm, perfectly comfortable bed steps away.
"Come back to bed," Rook says. "Please?"
He does.
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lavenderprose · 2 days ago
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Today I'm rotating that Emmy acceptance speech Kieran Culkin made where he thanks his wife for not only being amazing and supportive but also giving him his children and then he tells her he wants more on national television. I don't know what I'm rotating it for but round and around it goes.
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lavenderprose · 3 days ago
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Insane that people are calling Neve's voice acting bad. She will say things like 'The shlorpledorp. Sneaky little creature. Tracked a nest of them running a stolen mitten smuggling ring once.' with a completely nonplussed tone. Unique woman in all of Thedas who is surprised by nothing but true love. Not everyone can pull that off.
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lavenderprose · 3 days ago
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As an Emmricancer I'm only aware of the Strife/Emmrich side romance tangentially but God bless the Veilguard writers for giving us TRUE old man yaoi. You are God's strongest soldiers.
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lavenderprose · 3 days ago
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I'm not surprised Emmrich would like puppet pantomime shows, but there is clearly a story here, and I want to hear it 🙈
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lavenderprose · 3 days ago
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lavenderprose · 4 days ago
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Okay, finally figured out how to use the PlayStation app! Here are some screenshots:
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I'm a big fan of this unhinged face she makes sometimes.
For those curious, her name is Sigrid and the last person who called her Sigrid actually still has nightmares about the look she gave them. She went by Sigi as a kid, but mostly just Ingellvar as an adult. Now, of course, she's Rook and thinks of herself as such.
Posting this mostly so everyone knows what we're working with, as this is my default Emmrichmancer Rook. She's a five foot nothing absolutely wild fantasy-bleach blonde and I like her and think she's pretty :3
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lavenderprose · 4 days ago
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lavenderprose · 4 days ago
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I did have someone to come back to.
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lavenderprose · 5 days ago
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Here's an idea I'm rotating:
At some point Rook has to go somewhere on Important Hero Business (There's an I Saved The World Club meeting happening at Skyhold or something) and Emmrich has to go to the Necropolis on Professor Business and as they're packing Emmrich's just like, "Oh and don't forget to take Johanna."
Rook, eyes bugging out of her head: WHOSMT.
Emmrich explains that he doesn't want to leave her alone in the dark for however long they're both gone (Because he's very soft-hearted about his friend, even still) but it's SUCH A BAD IDEA to take her to the Necropolis. Any number of looney toons ass hijinks could ensue if the half-lich skull of a former necromancer gets near all that raw spirit energy.
So Rook takes Johanna to Skyhold and sets her on the dresser in the guest suite and they glare at each other for a good long while.
"I hate you," Rook tells her, matter of factly. "You tried to kill my boyfriend. Multiple times."
"If that coward Volkarin would take me to the Necropolis, I would try again," Johanna sneers.
Rook groans and massages her temples and ignores the fact that she feels both hungry and nauseous at the same time. "Shut up. Maker, just shut up. Why shouldn't I throw you off the side of the castle?"
"Because you can't throw hard enough," Johanna croons. "And your precious Emmrich would be so sad, because he's a sentimental old fool and--"
Rook doesn't throw Johanna, but she does throw a pillow AT Johanna, and she goes toppling off the dresser and into the floor.
"YOU STUPID HARPY," Johanna howls. "If you crack my skull, the vessel will be compromised and my consciousness will be set adrift!"
"Good!" Rook says. "You're a crazy old bitch and you should have died when we killed you!"
"That's rich, coming from a Necropolis reject! Poor little orphan never had a father, so she spreads her legs for the first milquetoast Necromancer who looks at her twice."
"You don't know anything about Emmrich and I," Rook seethes. The window out to the courtyard is looking very appealing indeed. Johanna might even enjoy the sensation of wind against her eye sockets as she went whirling to the ground.
"I know enough," Johanna snorts. "How that decrepit old ponce even managed to knock you up, I'll never understand."
"WHAT," Rook howls.
"Oh, as if you thought I wouldn't be able to tell! I'm a woman too; I may have never had children, but I know what it looks like, if only to better avoid it! Why are you on the floor. Why are you CRYING."
After a few moments of dawning horror, Johanna says, "Did you...truly not know?" When Rook just hides her face in her hands and continues sobbing, Johanna says, "Oh, you stupid girl," but it's...strangely gentle.
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lavenderprose · 5 days ago
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Listen I support women's wrongs but the Venatori are a Eugenicist cult and therefore I cannot give Johanna a full pass vis-a-vis joining up with them HOWEVER. By the time Johanna encountered them they were essentially Elgar'nan's minions, like full on little yellow men who say banana type shit, and it would not surprise me if she just did NOT absorb the whole Eugenics thing. Like yeah yeah the glory of Tevinter whatever that means. Help me move these chambers IDIOTS. I need the funding to build THIS [points] 125 foot tall skeleton. Okay yes mages are cool OBVIOUSLY I am one. Now help me build THIS 125 foot tall skeleton. Okay use blood magic if you have to. Get the blood wherever you normally get the blood. Whatever. Wait until Emmrich fucking Volkarin sees THIS 125 FOOT TALL--
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lavenderprose · 6 days ago
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everyone look at these funeral traffic cones
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lavenderprose · 6 days ago
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2024 has just been one long continuous Category Five Old Man Event for me
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lavenderprose · 6 days ago
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Top Ten Cullen Rutherford Blunders
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lavenderprose · 6 days ago
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Listen I don't even go here but I'm an OT3 purist in that if you have an OT3 it should be a TRUE triangle like yeah ok Rook has two hands blah blah but so does Emmrich. So does Lucanis. Do NOT be a coward. Those are Emmrich's beautiful failspouses. God look at them go. This works for anyone btw. Can you fucking IMAGINE. An Emmrich/Rook/Bellara OT3 especially has me giggling and kicking my feet. The chaos would be untenable. There would have to be a chart for whose turn it was to be Most Extra that day. Again I DO NOT go here. But I attended the open house and thought it was neat.
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